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Ebony in Ivory

Category: Anal Sex
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Sun, sand, and silence. The beach was gloriously empty.

Susan had been coming to this stretch of the Côte d’Ivoire for years. It was her retreat from the whirl of business life. The pavillon was humble by modern standards — only a few rooms, with aging fitments — but its rustic charm somehow enhanced rather than reduced its appeal. It was a family-run affair: well, it had been. The concierge had mentioned a change of ownership when she’d arrived yesterday afternoon.

But so far there was no evidence of any change. Her room last night with the faded, not-quite-peeling paint and its simple decor were comfortingly familiar.

After breakfast she’d strolled the short walk to the beach and collapsed with a sigh of satisfaction into one of the well-worn transats. The playful breeze teased her sarong and she surrendered it willingly to bask bikini-clad in the morning summer sun. It wasn’t early, yet she was the only person on this magnificent curve of coastline.

She must have dozed. Susan opened her eyes to realise the sun was substantially higher and the paperback she’d been reading had attempted its own escape to the sand. As she was contemplating whether it was worth the effort to retrieve it, she glanced at the surf and was surprised to see a figure emerging from the waves.

A second look quickly became an unashamed — and much longer — third. Like a North African Neptune rising from the deep, water streamed from his magnificent torso as he emerged from the waves to stride through the wash of the incoming tide. Black hair dripping sparkling droplets, rivulets cascading down muscled contours, skin gleaming dark bronze in the sunlight … Susan couldn’t look away. Book forgotten, she allowed her eyes behind dark lenses to drink in the sight. If ‘a picture is worth a thousand words’, she thought, then this particular story was rather salacious.

A warm smile, with white teeth flashing. Humour in grey eyes, acknowledging her attention. Lithe figure reclining cat-like on the warm sand. Companionably close, but not with such proximity as to be thought assuming. Considerate, she thought. Needlessly considerate, she amended, and couldn’t decide whether to be flattered or mildly insulted.

“Bonjour mademoiselle; or do you prefer ‘good morning’?”

“Et bonjour à vous. Je parle le français, but I do prefer English.”

“I too prefer English”, he said with a laugh.

Although she wasn’t sure that he didn’t actually mean something else.

Susan was suddenly conscious that her body was betraying her thoughts. The wetness between her legs had nothing to do with the heat of the day. Her nipples had hardened and were advertising themselves prominently against the constraining bikini top. He had evidently noticed, but with another light gust of the sea breeze, she offered the ‘slight nip’ in the wind as a half-hearted explanation.

Again the warm laugh.

“I sympathise with the wind’s desire to, comment avez-vous dire, ‘nip’?”

And there was no mistaking the meaning this time behind the softly accented words.

“Ah, what the hell”, she thought. Relaxation done, time for fun!

She turned towards him and then over, deftly unlacing her top so as to give him a quick glimpse of her breasts before she lay on her stomach.

“Would you mind …” she said, gesturing to her back and then nodding towards her tote nestled up against the leg of the lounge.

She heard his soft, sudden intake of breath and with a quick glance was surprised — and then rather pleased — to see his face turned not towards her and the bulge of breast pressed against the wooden slats of the transat, but towards her rear.

If Susan was guilty of one conceit, it was that she was really proud of her ass. She kept herself in shape as much to help manage stress as for the enjoyment of exercise. And it was so worth it, she thought, every time she turned in a mirror to admire the fit of her clothes over her hips and ass. She knew her figure was slightly boyish, her breast size only average at best. But she did have exquisite curves and proportions in the place that the one remaining piece of her swimming attire still adorned. And set off to perfect advantage, she smirked to herself.

“It would be my pleasure”, he said with so much sincerity and admiration that her own spontaneous laugh erupted before being whisked away by the ocean breeze.

He rummaged in her bag and found the bottle of tanning lotion. A sudden scent of coconut, followed by drops of oil down the track of her spine, then firm hands still slightly cool from the surf with a slow sweep across her shoulders.

“Oh, je m’excuse …” as he paused and reached for the towel to wipe his hands of a few offending grains of sand before continuing his attention to her back.

It was so much more than a casual rub with lotion. In fact, his massage technique was better than Susan could remember experiencing in most salons. She shuddered with pleasure and he chuckled softly. She sighed as he stroked her arms; softer downward, firmer back. And she moaned quietly as his hands brushed her cheeks as he worked her legs. She felt herself getting wetter and knew it would show against her bikini. In case of doubt she parted her legs slightly to allow him a clear view.

Hands found her ass again, but this time with purpose.

“May I?” he offered perfunctorily.

Yet his fingers were deftly undoing the strings at her hips even as she responded.

“By all means.”

Completely naked now, Susan revelled in the sensations of the warm sun, the smell of the oil and ocean and the wonderful feel of his hands: now on her back, her legs and again her ass.

He parted her cheeks slightly as he massaged her and it was enough to elicit the soft ‘kiss’ as the lips of her pussy parted. This time, the responding intake of his breath was far more ragged as gazed at her glistening sex. While one hand continued the rhythmic stroking of her body, he softly caressed her clit. She arched up slightly as his fingers quickened. Susan moaned again and he paused before plunging three digits into her sopping wet pussy, echoing internally the glorious massage technique that he had previously demonstrated on her body. At fever pitch she gasped, “please… oh, please!”

Instead he slowed, and then withdrew his fingers. Hands — one wet with her fluids — again caressed her back and shoulders. She felt him change position and then his face nestled between her cheeks and his tongue delicately traced the outline of her lips and then her anus. Susan was no stranger to anal sex, but had not had many partners who shared her fascination. She had enjoyed several experiences but mostly with a sense of frustration that the pleasure experienced — while gratifying — had not reached the heights she’d anticipated. She welcomed this present change of direction though!

His tongue darted around her anal opening and then forced its way partly inside her. She quivered and her anus contracted. She felt a finger slide gently into her hole and consciously controlled the desire to tense in response to the friction.

“I’m not sure that tanning oil …” he said.

“My bag … after-sun … aloe … gel”, gasped Susan.

While that one finger delicately rotated within her ass, she felt him reach around and fumble for the cream amongst the assortment of stuff in her bag. He gently withdrew his finger. And then the sudden firing of her nerve endings as the tube was pressed against her anus and a jet of cool gel erupted into her ass, spilling around her cheeks and dripping down into her pussy and onto the slats of the lounge.

“Oohhh”, she moaned, “please fuck me!”

Susan spread her legs, dropping her feet off and over the side onto the sand and lifted her hips, inviting him to take her. She heard him struggling one-handed to remove his board shorts, while one, and then two fingers continued the exploration of her ass.

“Je vais grosse, peut-être massif”, he grunted.

Awash with pleasure, Susan struggled with the translation: ‘Really gross?’

What?! No, wait.

‘Really large.’

Oh shit…

But her need was desperate now.

“Yes, fucking fuck me with your huge fucking cock!!” she screamed.

Susan ground her hips as now three fingers probed her ass. As they withdrew, his hands worked her cheeks, spreading her now gaping hole wide. One hand lifted and then smacked back in a stinging slap. And again. And then with her cheeks again forced wide, she felt the pressure of the head of his erection forced against her hole. She forced herself to relax as he eased his cock into her ass. She felt as though at any moment she was going to tear, the intensity of the pain warring with the pleasure raging through her body. She felt her anus constrict slightly as it eased over his tip. Panting, he stopped, reaching below to flick over her clit and then massage around her entry.

“And that’s just his head”, Susan thought.

“Oh shit … oh shit …”

Which changed to “oh yes … yes!!” as his magic fingers brought towards climax and then over into an eruption of orgasm like she’d never before experienced. Her legs buckled, yet she was still impaled on his shaft — she felt completely helpless.

As her cascading shudders of ecstasy subsided he withdrew slightly, but not completely, before pressing into her again. In the wake of her raging orgasm she’d relaxed and he was able to slide further into her. She could feel the progress of his enormous member and through the mist of the cocktail of pleasure and pain she had an odd thought that this really was deserving tribute to such a magnificent ass. She knew that eventually he was fully in when his balls swung gently to kiss her pussy. As she adjusted to his size — he hadn’t been kidding, he was fucking enormous! — Susan felt desire surge again within her.

“Now fuck me this time like you mean it!” she roared.

And he obliged, withdrawing his cock almost completely before reaming it roughly back into her anal canal. She screamed. Her back arched as her hips bucked back against him, daring him to do it again. A strong hand forced her head down against the back rest of the lounge as he ploughed into her repeatedly and with increasing savagery. His fingers plunged back into the depths of her sopping cunt and she felt the unstoppable tide of a second orgasm surge upward throughout her entire body. Primal pleasure balanced on a knife edge against agony. She screamed hoarsely as she came, awash with ripping waves of pleasure and her juices jetting from her to cover his balls, her legs, the chair and drip onto the thirsty sands of the Ivory Coast.

She wondered later whether she’d blacked out briefly, because she couldn’t remember him removing his cock from her ass. He was on his knees beside her masturbating furiously as she turned to view for the first time the monster that had given her greater ecstasy than she’d even thought possible, let alone probable.

“Let me help.”

She cupped her hands around his swaying sac and felt the weight of his balls.

“I can’t believe I took all that”, she thought, “It must be 8 or 9 inches!”

Holy crap!

She stroked and fondled him and then, for good measure, returned a bit of the savagery with which he’d taken her by squeezing and twisting his balls. His eyes widened at the same time as she saw him go almost rigid then spasm as his hot, creamy-white come jetted from him to splatter across her cheeks and back. Wow! Dripping with both their fluids, Susan twisted to take his ebony cock in her mouth, gently licking and sucking the last drops from him. She tasted the flavours of her own ass and, strangely, didn’t care. His was a cock worthy of her magnificent ass and she fucking loved it.

Susan dozed again and awoke to shadows lengthening behind her as the sun dipped into the west, setting the join of sea and sky ablaze with fire. “A bit like my ass …” she thought, now conscious of the pleasurable punishment it had earlier received. She’d been tenderly and carefully wrapped in his towel and, as she stood — a little unsteadily — she noted that he had obviously also wiped her down and reapplied some lotion. Her ass was certainly burning a bit, but the rest of her wasn’t, for which she was grateful indeed.


Being a small establishment, the concierge also doubled as the maitre’d at dinner. As Susan perused the menu, he murmured that the fare this evening was ‘avec nos compliments’ and that the manager had also specifically asked him to check whether the linen service had been satisfactory?

Hell yeah. But maybe she should check if it would be as good tomorrow as well…

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