Beaches and Cream by Kojo Black Page A

flora, heavy with fruit, we had ended up parallel to each other, but two rows apart. I was glad the vines separated us, for I was clearly too late for any form of casual reunion.
    Anton and Tia stood motionless between the vines. Then, as I peered through the leaves, Tia pulled her sundress over her head. She wore no undergarments whatsoever—as if she’d come prepared for just this moment.
    â€œTia…we can’t…” Anton protested. But his voice was strained with longing. His hands pleadingly open, and the compact bulge at his front clearly swollen from the enchantment of Tia’s kisses and her newly naked body.
    â€œBut….Mand…” he continued feebly. It was funny to hear my name on his lips, with Tia naked and provocative before him.
    â€œDon’t worry,” she whispered, walking toward him slowly. “We can stop when we hear her coming.”
    Though I’m not sure even Tia believed that. Her hungry eyes never left his—like the hypnosis of a vampire. This sort of power seemed to run in the family, and I knew from personal experience that it was utterly irresistible. Anton didn’t protest when her busy hands casually flipped open the buckle of his belt and lowered his trousers from his waist. His sturdy cock bounded into the air, and he stepped free of his pants and soft shoes in two steps. Tia lifted the hem of his shirt, and he followed her lead, pulling the garment off over his head so that he was as naked as she. She sighed happily and threw her arms around his sturdy torso. I loved that feeling—the feeling of two yearning bellies pressed together, mine soft, his hard; with the round, hot meat of his swollen penis sandwiched between us. I envied her. My tummy flipped and my pussy spasmed when I thought about how long it had been since I’d had a man.
    She kissed him again, deeply, and then stepped back. His beautiful cock jutted out proudly from his equally beautiful body. My own breath caught in my throat as I watched it, shamelessly quivering in the wind. Tia knelt before him, almost as though in prayer. Her wide eyes surveyed his as she opened her mouth wider still, and took his gorgeous, grateful penis into her mouth. Their eyes closed in unison—his in gratitude, hers in gratification, both in absolute rapture.
    Her pace was sensually deliberate. As though she wanted to savour every pass her lips made over the sensitive organ. Revel in the thick, warm flesh as it met her tongue, her throat, and all the soft, private places inside her mouth. Slowly, she worked her mouth deeper down the shaft, his member growing slick with her saliva.
    I watched in wrapped perversion. There was no other way to say it. I’d never seen anything so rude and real, and yet so deeply private, as this spectacle before my eyes. My own mouth watered as I empathetically savoured the glorious piece in Tia’s mouth. I could practically taste the salty pre-cum that she had been teasing from him ever since they’d entered the cellar. I looked down for a moment to find one of my hands wrapped tight around the neck of the champagne bottle, as though willing it to turn into a plump, pulsing, vigorous penis for my very own.
    Tia snaked a hand up his thigh and began to caress the retreating pouch of his testicles as she continued her indolent feast.
    Anton half groaned and half laughed, already on the brink of release, and unable to withstand another foray of pleasure.
    Tia let out a low, throaty laugh that was the exact homophone of her mother’s. They would never know how similar in lust they were. For me, hearing Veronica’s dirty laugh gurgling forth from her daughter’s cock-relishing throat—I am almost ashamed to say—brought a torrent of honey to my over-indulgent cunt. I longed to touch myself. To masturbate right there in the fields. But masturbation seemed an insipid remedy for the cravings I felt at that moment. Furthermore, I might