Intercontinental passion…

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WARNING! The material covered in piece are of a mature nature. 18+

Brazil, an explosion of culture, passion and diversity… Finally, my backpacking trip around South America had brought me to this excitingly colourful nation. In my time here I had experienced the carnival, beaches and now I was desperate to get a taste of the exotic nightlife! With infectious lyrics and pulsating beats, my ears and body were drenched in the intensely rhythmic percussion of reggaeton; everywhere I turned were rolling hips, thrusting crotches and shaking breasts. Soon from the mass of limbs, legs and curvy frames, out of the crowd emerged a tantalising stranger…

While his skin is of the finest chocolate his face is a rich amalgamation of oriental and native features, a true testament to the countries much celebrated ethnic melting pot – he is a vision of unadulterated sexiness. Time and people become a blur as his hips guide mine through every drum beat and sultry lyric; back home in England dancing involved the uncoordinated flailing of arms and legs, but in Brazil it involves every ounce of your being, passion and soul.

Cupping his arm around the small of my back he whispers seductively into my ear; his broken English is almost incomprehensible against the loud background of reggaeton, but his intentions don’t need any translating…

Without even an exchange of names, in the blink of a heartbeat I’m back in his room locked tightly in the throes of passion…

Before the door even has time to close shut behind us, he hooks his powerful arm around my waist and swings me ferociously around so he can press me firmly up against the door. As he leans forward to engulf me with his slender yet muscular frame; I inhale his sweat tinted musk still fresh from the dancefloor and feel his body heat pulsating from him. Then suddenly the room feels 100 times even hotter as I feel the bulge in his pants pushing violently against the seam…

I love how my porcelain skin looks so stark against the ebony of his own, yet they seem to beautifully and perfectly melt into each other…

His open mouth hovers tentatively around my neck as his hands alternate between squeezing my bum and strumming my lower back. As the sexual energy begins to build in my body I can’t help but bite my lips. I catch a glimpse of his own; full, plump and tempting, I scope the bottom of his chin up with my finger and bite his gently instead…

With our figures shaky with anticipation and graceless with thumping adrenaline; we hurriedly rip, pull and tug each other’s clothes off. I am now blessed with his taunt abdomen with a hint of a happy trail teasing me with anticipation of where it leads too.  As my eyes roam his body I can’t help noticing how his smooth and flawless espresso flesh looks good enough to feast on – my appetite is wetted almost as quickly as my vagina is…

My clitoris throbs with expectation…

Down to my underwear he stops and studies my body, his eyes exploring and admiring every inch of me. With an abruptness that startles me he drops to his knees and plies my white lace underwear carefully from my thighs and eases it down…

Completely exposed and desperate for his tongue, he hikes my right thigh above his shoulder and mercilessly satisfies my cravings. With the power of a body builder; with one hand steading me he hikes my left leg over his shoulder and raises to his feet with me suspended in the air and my pleasure at his mercy. He staggers to the bed and gently tosses me upon it…

He glides on top of me and gathers me in his arms, shivers course the length of me…

Every time his body threatens to move away from mine, I dig my nails deeper and deeper into his taut back to hold him captive against my hungry flesh. Each touch, caress, thrust sends electrifying ripples of pleasure echoing around my body; every ounce of my now sizzling, scorching skin wants nothing more than to scream his name and beg him never to stop…

His wide and firm hands wonder confidently and sporadically around my tender skin; never once do I know where his fingers will pinch, stroke or tease next. He arrogantly leaves my body on an agonising cliff-hanger and my libido desperate for a sequel…

My breath grows quick and shallow, I’m going dizzy and the rest of the room seems like a blur while he stays perfectly in focus…

If our fucking were a song it would effortlessly leap from genre to genre; in one moment it would be a slow and smooth jazz beat, then like an operatic concerto it will build and build into a loud and passionate funk song. His gyrating hips are the conductors to my orgasmic symphony…

Panting, tired and exhausted; euphoric, satisfied and in pure ecstasy we lay next to each other, tempted to applaud one and another for the fine performance. I’m already thinking of an encore. He rises to his elbow and meticulously studies my naked, sweat slickened body with the eye of an artist who has just completed his masterpiece, while I stroke his paintbrush and tempt him to let me be his muse again.

 

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