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. The tall, ripped, mean-looking Jamaican doesn't give a fuck about her boyfriend back in the States.

Discussion in 'Cuckold Stories' started by princessfucked, Nov 2, 2016.

. The tall, ripped, mean-looking Jamaican doesn't give a fuck about her boyfriend back in the States. 5 5 1votes
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  1. princessfucked

    princessfucked Member Member

    I can feel it, I can taste it, the lapping of the Caribbean surf that spurts up from the sea onto our boat and splashes our clothes and skin. We're within sight of land now. The sunny shores of Jamaica. I snap a picture of the golden sand and send it to my boyfriend. With a kiss on the end, of course!

    I turn back to my friends, all girls, all white, all blonde and brunette pretty little 19 and 20 year olds in tight tops and bikinis ready for our summer holiday. The trip was organised by our college. We'll be going over there to help with relief work but everyone really knows you just do a tiny amount of work then drink cocktails on the beach and party in the jungle.

    "Hey Allie. Did you bring condoms?" Jess says, addressing me.
    "Err..." I say. What does she mean? She knows I have a boyfriend.
    "It's ok, you can borrow mine."
    "Or just go bareback like me!" Sarah says. The girls burst into laughter.
    "I'll be ok, thanks." I say.
    "Oh yea? You just wait!"

    I'm still confused. Even if I didn't have a boyfriend, this is a girls only trip, there's not a single boy on this boat. Doesn't matter. Anyway, looks like the boat is docking.

    As we step off we're greeted by a small group of extremely large, intimidating looking men. Black skin, dreadlocks, gold teeth and silver rings, they look Jamaican alright. One in particular stands out, taller than the rest with open shoulders and lazy arms, the clear alpha male of the group. He stares at me, I look at the floor, avoiding his gaze. He says something to the group that is met with laughter before approaching me.

    "Hey girl, name's Charles, we gonna make sure you treated right."
    "Ok." I say, eyes still firmly on the ground. These guys must be part of the program.
    "Pretty little American thing like you needs to smile more."
    "Ok." I glance up at him, his cocky smile and diamond earring staring back. He rubs me lightly on the shoulder. Ugh! His touch is repulsive! He then places his hand on my lower back and guides me to the van, whispering in my ear.

    I sit on the backseat, unable to look the driver or any of my friends in the eye. I didn't feel comfortable back there, those guys scared me. I take my phone out my pocket, six messages from James, my boyfriend. Three of them just say 'ILY'. Aww, he's so nice. I spend the ride messaging him. Thank God I've got signal.


    Our first day working on site is easy. No heavy lifting, no manual labour, no getting my hands dirty. Not much of anything really. I spend more time on Instagram than doing work! And people really seem to love the whole charity vibe. My last selfie, wearing safety helmet and googles with trowel in hand, got over 100 likes!

    The evening is much more interesting. all the Jamaican guys have brought loads of vodka, beer, gin, you name it. And they say we can drink as much as we want and we don't have to pay anything! I can't believe they're so generous. It feels kinda naughty to be drinking underage. A good naughty. I like it.

    "I'm serious, I would fuck all these guys." Jess says. It's just me, her and Sarah, so we can be a little more open.
    "I know, part of me wants to do it just because of how much my dad hates blacks." Sarah adds. "Well not hates, but, you know what I mean."
    "Yea, my boyfriend comes from a really conservative family. I know it's bad but, it'd be such a thrill to cheat one him with one of these guys. He'd be so pissed off!" Jess says, laughing.
    "It's so tempting, right? Like one of them just started touching my ass and stuff today like out of nowhere! It felt so good!" Sarah says. "What about you, Allie?"
    "Ermm..." I say. "I love my boyfriend. Also, I find these guys a bit creepy. Like they're so touchy and I-"

    The music stops and everyone turns to one of the locals who is speaking through a microphone. I breathe out, happy to be avoiding the topic. The guy on the mike starts talking about a drinking game or something. He needs a volunteer. I'm not much of a big drinker usually but I'm feeling kinda tipsy and I don't like where this conversation is going. I put my hand up.

    "Alright, we got someone, get up here girl." I'm told. I don't know the man's name. I do as he says. "Right, who wants to do a shot of tequila from this girl's belly button?"
    "Wait!" I say, inaudible because of the hootering and hollering from all the guys around me. "I'm not sure about this."

    Without any warning or even seeing who it is, I'm lifted off the ground in one smooth motion and with my body in this guy's arms and parallel to the floor. The guy who has the microphone shouts something into it, I don't know what, and then another guy who I don't even notice has poured a shot into my belly. Then in a flash, I see a flurry of dreadlocks and feel a disgusting but exciting feeling. Another shot, another mouth. And another, and another. I gasp each time.

    Then Charles appears. He is slower than the others, making sure to look me in the eye and smile. The shot gets poured, it's cold so my stomach flinches away from Charles's face. He slowly bows down and laps the alcohol up with his tongue. He then moves his lip an inch further down, and kisses. Then another inch down, another kiss. Another inch, another kiss. Then he lightly kisses my pussy over the jeans I'm wearing and I'm let go.

    The moment I'm placed back onto my feet I sprint off towards my tent, crying, utterly conflicted as to whether I was terribly violated or given one of the most exciting experiences of my life.


    I see Charles frequently throughout my time helping out on the island. On some occasions, in large groups of people, he'll be perfectly polite, if still more than a little flirtatious. When we're alone however, he's unapologetically handsy. A pinch of my ass, a kiss on the neck, sometime even grabbing my hand and making me feel his abs, which are amazing, by the way.

    I act like I'm annoyed, every time. I tell him to stop, every time. Secretly I love it, though. And he knows it. It makes me so mad!

    On the second to last night, he stops me on the path from where all the main tents are to the beach and suggests we go for a walk. I've had a few drinks and he's so tall and intimidating, I feel unable to say no. We stop on the beach where he motions for me to lay down on the sand. I do as he says.

    Without a word, he starts stroking my neck, rubbing my breasts and massaging my stomach. Moving down, further and further. Then he moves his hand over my pussy. Rubbing his massive, strong hands over my clitoris, pushing and pushing, lightly then harder, then harder still. Fuck! FUCK! I come so hard I have to bend over and face away from him. When the spasms stop, I run away shaking the sand off my clothes, full of shame, guilt and ecstasy.


    I can't sleep. The tent I'm staying in is stuffy, humid, small and messy. I'd love for that to be the reason why but it's not. It's Charles. Each time he touches me, it's like an electric impulse, a supercharged jolt of sexual paradise, just a few seconds of his large, manly hands rubbing my pussy sent me wild. My boyfriend has never given me an orgasm like that before. Not through going down on me, full on sex, anything. I feel so guilty.


    It's the last night and our entire group are gearing up for a big one. Songs around the campfire, reggae music bursting out of the sound system, bottles of beer and plastic cups filled with god knows what. I've avoided Charles since he felt me up, but I'm four vodkas in and it'd be nice to chat to him, you know, just to clear the air. He's not here yet, though, so I just chat to Jessie.

    "So... you and Charles?" She asks.
    "What?" I reply, crossing my arms.
    "I saw you sneaking off to the beach together. Did you have a little fun?"
    "No, nothing happened!" I cry. "He just touched me a little bit. It was nothing."
    "Of course!" She laughs. "It's fine Allie, we can do whatever we want here. No-one at home will ever find out. It's perfect!"
    "Hmm... I dunno."
    "Just last night I went back to the tent of the guy who makes all the bongs, you know, the big guy with the crazy eyes?"
    "Yea I know him."
    "It was ridiculous. He had the biggest cock, like my hand could only get round half of it, and he pounded me all night, even in the ass!"
    "Oh my god!" I say.
    "I know! My boyfriend asks for anal all the time and I say I'm not that into it, but these guys..." She looks away, sighing. "They're just so forceful. They take what they want. And I love it."

    I go to get another drink. All the girls have the same stories. Boyfriends back home but fucking the locals out here. Not an ounce of guilt. It's so strange, I can't get my head round it. I'm not like that though, I love my boyfriend totally and utterly and would not do anything to betray him.

    "Hey little lady." Charles speaks, I freeze, feeling a shiver down my back.
    "Hi.." I cough, gather myself, stand up straight then gaze up to meet his eyes. "Hi Charles."
    "Sup girl. You lookin' good tonight."

    He takes me in his arms, more under his arms, he's so tall and big. We walk, me huddled in his broad, long arms. He starts directing us towards the tents where all the camp helpers stay, the Jamaican guys, his own tent.

    "Where are we going?" I ask.
    "We gonna have little fun." Charles says.
    "No. No." I say. "I can't do this."
    "Oh yea?"
    "I have a boyfriend."
    "Really?" He asks, then reaches his hand from my left shoulder down to my ass, giving it a firm squeeze.
    "You can't do that!" I cry.
    "He's not here, little girl." Squeezing my ass even harder. I look up at him and moan.
    "You're turning me on so much." I tell him. He grins, then lifts me up in one arm and continues marching towards the camp area.


    I perch on the edge of a foldout bed in a dark tent in the middle of the Caribbean jungle. I watch Charles, grabbing a couple of beers from the icebox in the corner, shirtless because of the heat. He's so big, and strong, and ripped, and no one else is here and no one else will find out, will they? I mean, my boyfriend won't know so it can't hurt him, and it's just sex and Charles is so hot.

    I cross my legs, trying to ignore the growing wetness in my underpants. He stands up, walks towards me slowly, all broad shoulders and chiselled ab muscles and glistening black skin. He has a beer in each hand. He offers me one.

    "I want to see your cock." I say.
    "There we go, girl." He says, putting the bottle to his lips and whipping out his dick. It's big. Fuck. It's so big.
    "Oh my god. That's... It's so big."
    "Enjoy yourself little lady." He laughs.

    I start licking and sucking, stroking with my hand, trying to cover every inch of his massive cock. I pause, panting, and stare at it. It's bigger than the bottle of beer in my other hand. I put the bottle down then grip Charles's cock with both my hands. I look up at him, he's smiling down at me, his golden tooth glinting. He finishes the last of his beer then picks me up and sets me down, facing away from him on the bed.

    There's a small mirror in the corner. I catch my own eye in it, seeing my pale white body with clothes half torn off and bent over on all fours, and Charles behind me, his huge ripped black body dwarfing mine as he slaps my ass and fingers my pussy. I'm soaking wet. The last thing I see is my face contort as I feel his massive cock enter me. Fuck! It feels so good. I can't concentrate on anything. Every slap of my ass, every grope of my breasts, every time he calls me a little white whore send me to ecstasy.

    We fuck all night. I miss the entire party. I don't even notice. Pounding after pounding and orgasm after orgasm, I've never experienced sex like it. It's amazing, nothing like with my boyfriend.


    First stop getting back to the States was James's parents' house. It's so good to see him, to hug him, to kiss him. We have sex. It's a weird feeling, I don't feel turned on at all compared to my experience in Jamaica.

    I show James my photos. He loves the pictures of the beach and the waves and the culture but gets a bit funny when seeing the camp helpers. I can't think why. I skip over the ones with Charles in. I can't deal with talking about him.

    I won't tell him what happened. How could I? Admitting that I'd cheated on him with this poor Jamaican man who felt me up when I wanted him to and even when I didn't and that his forcefulness just turned me on more and I ended up having orgasm after orgasm after orgasm at any single touch of his.

    No, I won't tell him, it would kill him inside. He'll be happier not knowing.

    - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

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