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Although I was married I was alone, even with all my comforts, and as the black man reached his big, coarse hand over to cup my breast, I knew I was unable to pass this opportunity up; my body wanted it too badly. I felt my pussy tingle at the prospect of what dangled before me. The warm summer wind sent a shiver through me as it whipped across my erect nipples. I looked at the beautiful, strong men to each side of me, fucking me in my mind and now, about to fuck me in reality too- at least if I had anything to say about it.

He squeezed my breast, sandwiching my nipple between two fingers, and wrapped his other arm behind my back. He whispered how beautiful I was, and how soft and supple my body was; I didn’t even know his name. The other one crawled up to me and brazenly reached a hand between my legs, inserting a finger inside. My pussy flooded with more juices and I spread my legs, opening myself to his touch, and suspending all decision-making in surrender to my desire.

The hunk stood up and removed his shorts, exposing a gorgeous ebony cock. Maybe half-erect and quite generous in size, it pointed toward me like a divining rod. I instinctively reached for it and he took a step closer before dropping to his knees. It had been so long since I felt a cock. I’d forgotten how much I loved the silky smooth skin of the shaft, and the spongy sensation that gave way to a delicious stiffness the more excited he got. I wrapped my hand around it gently, feeling the contours of the head and then the veins, stroking it up to the base then back down to the head, feeling it jump a little each time my fingertips grazed the sweet spot on the underside. He was so much bigger than my husband.

The other man's hands pinched my clit and rolled my labia between his fingers, sending a shiver radiating through my body. His mouth took my left breast and swirled his tongue across my nipple.

“You suck this,” the hunk said, gruffly.

Without hesitation, I leaned over and took him into my mouth, wrapping my lips around his swollen head and slathering all sides of it with his tongue. He let out a low, throaty groan and planted a hand on the back of my head, guiding me further down on his shaft. Remembering old techniques, I relaxed my throat, realizing that he had every intention of making me deep throat him. The faint tang of seawater mixed with the familiar saltiness of male skin, making me ever thirstier as I slurped on his thick, erect shaft.