Challenge 04 - Monica at Carnival

It seemed to work. Considering how many drunk or half-drunk people there were around it was pretty mellow. Just one drunken pass all the way back to the hotel. Back home, walking through a party district dressed like this, she would have settled for that. It was not as if she wasn't still getting attention. She had lost count of the number of times a camera had been held up. Not to mention the intent gaze of men, young tourists and locals alike. There was a certain type of look that a woman recognised very well. In this atmosphere it wasn't threatening but she still relished Harley's strong arm around her waist. Tonight there was only one man who had her interest.

To the hotel and past the smiling deskman He knew Harley well. Which didn't stop his appraising glance of Monica. "Have yourself a good night both." Followed, once they were safely in the elevator, by a sotto-voce, "Damn sure old Harley will and that's for certain."

They reached their doors. Monica didn't see the need for playing games. She knew what she wanted. "Have you got your key?" She asked him - despite knowing the answer.

It wasn't a key, of course, more a sort of electronic fob. She took it from him and moved it in front of the sensor . With a click the door unlocked. She took the handle, opened the door and walked in.

He followed and put the light on "You like taking charge?"

"Why waste time?"

His foot eased the door shut and then she was in his arms. Her face reaching up to meet his, their lips connecting with perfect somehow gentle intensity. She let her lips part and allowed his exploring tongue to find hers.

Harley was a man of experience. What some might have termed a connoisseur of the finest things in life, most especially of women. He enjoyed the company of women, liked to have women around him. It wasn't just a sexual thing though sex was most certainly sometimes part of it. Especially when the woman was as beautiful as this one. He liked a woman who knew what she wanted - especially when what she wanted was him.

The other room wouldn't be wasted. Tomorrow Marva would be putting this girl through her paces, quite literally. From near enough sun-up to late in the afternoon. Learning the steps and the timing, making sure that this girl and all Marva's dancers were ready for the big day. Tomorrow night Monica would be needing her sleep, getting ready for a long day of dancing. Tomorrow night. For tonight she was his.

She tasted almost as good as she looked. The hint of rum adding a little something. You knew as soon as you held a young woman like this. Sometimes you would feel the tension, the nervousness. Sometimes, like Monica, the girl just relaxed into your arms. Like she'd been waiting for this moment for a long time. That made a man feel good. No matter how experienced he was - it always felt like the first, then like the best.

He brought his lips to her ear. "They say you can dance."

She didn't answer. They both knew she could dance - hadn't he seen her shows back home?"

"I think its time I got a private performance, up close and personal. What you think?"

Now she was smiling. He eased away and took a seat in a deep armchair. He reached down and pressed a button. Knowing the device was there, just as he had planned this. Music filled the room, insistent rhythms that her body quickly responded to.

Monica danced for him. Just as she had danced so many times for the camera back home. Except that this time there was not the audience of an impersonal lens, of a few thousand distant pairs of eyes. Now she danced for one man, a man very close and very intent on her every movement. A man who gave an occasional, "Yes", or "Damn", to let her know he liked a particular move. Especially when she had reached behind her and pulled the string to undo her bikini top. She had moved in close, felt his hands and then his mouth and tongue on her breasts. Felt the response of her own body to his touch before she had pulled away and danced again.

The skirt went next, undone and let fall before she stepped out of it. Then she could let her finest asset do its work. She swung her hips and moved her backside for all it was worth. Leaning forward she thrust out her butt for his approval. When she turned again she saw the look in his eyes and she knew that look too. Felt the exultation as she realised that she pleased him and that, in return, he would be pleasing her, giving her what she had missed for so long. The doubts were gone. The night was being powered along on a wave of adrenaline and endorphins.

"Here." A single word and she danced herself back into position in front of him. Hs hands reached out and gave her little appreciative taps on her butt as she kept dancing for him. He raised one eyebrow a half-inch. She couldn't be sure that she understood that but she knew what he wanted to do. She stopped dancing and smiled. Then she dropped to her knees between his legs and reached for his belt.

Her skilled fingers quickly dispensed with the buckle and undid his pants she reached two fingers inside the waist-band of his shorts. There was no surprise there. She had seen it in the back-room of Cassius' club and dark though the room had been she had known Harley was big. Over time, of course, you could think you had exaggerated what you saw. Feeling him warm and hardening under your touch was a far more physical thing. She eased the material over his bulge and saw him fully revealed. Her memories had not deceived her. This was a Big Black Cock and might even have been a little daunting if Monica couldn't rely on those hours of 'practice' with her replica of Julius Flint. Harley might make her past white partners look like little boys, might be bigger than her co-star George, but Julius Flint was famous for very good reason.

She moved her hand to him and felt the immediate response. His big cock stiffened to full hardness and she knew his desire for her. Even blue pills couldn't fake that. The intense, pulsing, warmth of him. She dropped her lips to first kiss the broad head of his shaft and then to start to take him into her mouth.

He was certainly big. She could feel that he was bigger than George, the only previous Black cock that she had sucked. She was confident in her abilities but this was not the same as working with her Julius Flint replica. This was solid flesh, pumped full of blood, fuelled by desire for her. It was time to prove that she had been trained well, that she knew how to please a real man.

"Love this place," said Harley, "but believe me this is the best view on the island."

Her lips, tongue and hands worked together to excite him, to keep that big cock hard and ready to fuck her. She explored every part of his shaft from the heavy balls up to the more sensitive head. Exploring and working to see what this man, her man, enjoyed and wanted. She kept her eyes on his face, maintaining eye contact whenever possible, reading the signals of his approval. Repeating what she knew that her man liked. Adjusting the pressure and the rhythmn of her work to bring him the maximum satisfaction.

At last his hands gently took her head and moved her off him. Harley let out a long deep breath of air. She knew he was bringing himself back into control, knew that she must have had him close. She smiled because she also knew why he had stopped her. Harley wasn't planning on cumming in her mouth tonight. She knew why he was saving himself.

Harley shifted forward and stood up. Then, as she moved to follow, he reached down in one fluid movement. She let out an involuntary gasp as he swept her up and over his shoulder, one strong hand clamped firmly on her butt to hold her in place. He was a big man but she had not really known his power before that, the strength in his arms and thighs. He was a man who had kept himself in shape.

He carried her easily through to the bed. She knew the symbolism of it. If she had been in charge at the doorway then Harley was most certainly taking over now. His expert touch in placing her down on the bed suggested that this was not the first time that he had done such a thing. He moved her forward and then was leaning forward and down. His body between her legs, his hands grasping her hips firmly. There was no escape - but who would have wanted to escape? She felt his breath on her and then his lips and that questing tongue.

One of her previous boyfriends had apparently never heard of eating pussy. The other had tried - but it had never really done anything for her. Harley, in a few seconds, gave her a whole new perspective on life. Was it luck or skill? She never knew but he just immediately began to hit the spot. Maybe it was because she was already so excited, so ready for him, had needed this for so long. His tongue was insistent and probing. Isolating her most sensitive parts and concentrating on them. Giving her sensations that she had never felt before, had never known could be felt before.

Just as she had done for him he soon had her approaching orgasm. Here, though, there was no need to hold back and the slight but unchanging pressure of his hands on her hips let her know that she was going nowhere. The knowledge only recharged the emotion surging within her, carried her on and up and over. She bit her lip trying to stifle the noises she was making. Scared that he would realise just what he was doing to her, just how unused she was to this. Still he did not stop, still that remorseless tongue stimulated her. Demanding his tribute. The sensations built again from a much higher base. She felt that she would have to cum again. She opened her eyes, opened them wide, and looked down her body. His eyes, those deep brown pools of mystery, were looking straight at her and he took the signal.

She realised at that moment that he understood her. That she held no mysteries for him. He was a man of the world, a man of experience, a master of his craft. The craft of seduction and pleasure. How many young women had been here? How many had he taken to Rio or Kingston? It didn't matter. All she knew was that she and Harley were here together and he was making her feel as she had never felt before.

This time he didn't take her to the peak. This time he moved forward. A finger explored her and found her warm, wet and ready. Then the finger was replaced by something larger. The broad head of his cock pushing and teasing at the lips of her pussy. she watched as he eased forward again and let the hard length of his Big Black Cock stretch up her body. He used his stomach muscles to let his cock rise a couple of times and then gently drop back onto her. She saw the size of him against her, felt the weight of him, exhilarated at he stark contrast between his skin tone and hers. She had seen that contrast before but never with herself as one of the participants. She knew how hot it looked and yearned to know how it felt.

Harley adjusted his position and pushed his cock up against her pussy lips. The time for teasing was done and this time his movements had real intent. His first motion pushed the broad head of his cock against her and into her. She felt the width of him - knew that her previous boyfriends had been just that - boys. Weak little white boys. Now she was with a man. A real man.

His size was big but not uncomfortable. Just filling and fulfilling. She knew why that was. He had prepared her, had made her ready to receive him. Had made her pussy hungry for him, hungry for that Big Black Cock. Just the thought sent emotions surging through her, made her cry out.

"Girl. We ain't even started yet," Harley's voice was pleased, amused even. However, once the words were out of his mouth he began to fuck her for real, setting up a powerful rolling rhythmn that with each thrust forward claimed a little more of her.

She had experimented with toys, even with her Julius Flint toy. She was no virgin - she and her boyfriends had had sex, of course they had. However, nothing had ever felt like this. Like the moment Harley pushed his body forward and over her. His strong chest pushing down on her breasts, his lips meeting hers, his eyes engulfing hers with their beautiful deep brown power. His cheek came against her mouth and she tasted the salt of his sweat. proof that while he made it all seem so smooth and practised and easy Harley was putting in some energy and some effort into pleasing her. Even that momentary realisation had her holding onto him tight as a shuddering wave of response run through her. All the while that big cock kept pushing home, kept being welcomed into new, unexplored, parts of her womanhood. It felt so good, so real, so amazing. From now it would be very easy to chase this sensation for ever. That realisation flashed through her but was allowed to rest in her mind's recesses for future consideration. The past and the future didn't matter in this moment. This moment was in itself all - the union of their two bodies.

He gave a little satisfied grunt as his body met hers, his cock all the way inside her. The noise was so redolent of his pleasure that she couldn't help giggling. He gave a smile in response and she could see his eyes shining with desire and pleasure. His lips met hers again, their tongues touched and he began to fuck her in earnest. Long deep strokes claiming her and sending their signals through every fibre of her being. It was all too much and soon, very soon, she was howling out an orgasm into the hotel room. Had she bit her lip a while ago to try to keep quiet, scared of disturbing the neighbouring rooms. How foolish of her. You could not hide feelings like this, you could not deny them, you had to express them.

She felt his body on hers, his strong arms holding her tight, his big cock unrelenting in its life's work. She knew now that Harley was truly a man on a mission. As a woman you didn't forget an experience like this, you didn't come back from an experience like this. You might try to deny it but you were changed. You knew the truth.

He took her through three orgasms, each never allowed to fully subside, each building upon the last. He had her abandoning all caution, all pretence, he had her shouting for him to fuck her. Not caring about the world or the neighbors or what anyone else thought. All that mattered was them, the two of them, together.

As her third orgasm peaked he mingled it with his own. Sending five or six strong pulses of cum just as deep into her as he could. Was it her imagination or had she really felt it? Only then did he ease down into shorter, shallower, strokes. Making sure she had all that he had to give her, ever drop of his seed. Then there was a mighty pause. She looked up into his face and saw his pleasure. She had to respond even though she knew the grin on her face had to make her look like an idiot. His smile broadened and she saw the little lines at the edges of his eyes and mouth deepen a little. She didn't know when she had seen anything more beautiful.

He eased his body off her. She felt the weight move, then the gentle kiss of the air finding her skin. It had all been so natural, so organic, so perfect. She felt it in every part of her.

It had been entirely natural she realised. No condom or even the mention of a condom.

"You came in me." It was a statement not an accusation.

"Not a problem for you? I mean Dr Nikola sorted you out?"

A little late to be worrying about possible consequences. In some things Black men were clearly just the same as white boys. It was as well that the good Doctor and Heather Cameron had indeed sorted it out. Heather was very much her sensible side. The part of her that knew that babies were definitely not on the agenda, not now and quite possibly not ever. She had too much else to do. The Monica side of her could get over-enthusiastic, could be just like Harley. Live for the moment and consider the possible consequences later.

"It's not a problem. It was just a little bit of a surprise."

She expected to see relief or satisfaction on his face. She didn't. Instead he smiled. "Girl - the day I'm with a woman as beautiful as you and I pull out that's the day you can put a gun to my head. Because I'd have lost it."

She raised her perfectly-sculpted eyebrows at him. "Thinking like that its amazing you haven't got baby mommas all over your city." She meant to call him on his BS, even used the slang term to confirm it, but the little smile that Harley gave her made her realise her mistake.

That smile didn't say, 'You caught me.' That smile said, 'You think I settle for only one city, only one state, only one country, when there's a whole world?'

She felt his touch on her belly, looked down to see his Black finger casually tracing a wide invisible circle on the pale skin around her navel.

She was learning more about Harley every moment.

***

There was a cacophony of noise. In front of them the big truck was moving but it was not the mighty engine that was making the noise. Instead it was the huge stacks of speakers piled onto its flat-bed. The biggest sound system that Heather had ever seen - or at least before today. On her way to the starting point she had seen at least four other such rigs and there were many more now scattered along the parade route.

Each of those trucks was putting out its beat, the songs of the performer who was also riding on the truck, performing at intervals and accepting the cheers of the crowds along the route.

Behind each truck and each performer came his 'tent'. The group of dancers, male and female, performing as part of his show. Decked out in as colourful and as eye-catching a set of costumes as could be imagined. Pausing at the staging posts to give a stationary dance routine but otherwise half-marching, half-dancing, along the long route.

The 'road' as they called the parade-route was not hard to follow. Neon-yellow ropes marked out either side of it with a man walking along at long intervals with a bright yellow top identifying him as 'security.' Just in case a local, or more like a tourist, had too much to drink and wanted to get too up-close and personal with the dancers. She had seen enough to know that all of the bars were doing a roaring trade. Groups of young and not-so-young men were stood outside of each of the bars. If their girls were with them then they were dancing and having a good time. If there were no women with them then they would cheer and shout at the dancers. Mostly good-natured and the Bajan creole obscured some of the more lewd remarks.

Between each of the trucks were groups of women of all ages, dressed in their normal clothes and joining in the parade for a spell. Marching alongside the parade, but beyond the ropes, were men and women following the parade.

She looked up and saw a signal from Marva who was riding along on the truck. Sure enough a few moments later the truck ground to a halt from its previous slow walking pace. The music cranked up and on the truck she saw the 'Ugly Man' as he launched into another of his songs. His slightly-cracked voice still carrying out loud across the crowds via the huge speakers.

He danced and strutted and posed for his audience as he sang. Not bad for a man who was seventy-five if he was a day. He had been the 'lord of the road' through the seventies and eighties. Now he was more an honorary presence - leaving the competition to the youngsters who were just making their names. It had been made quite clear to her that being part of the Ugly Man's tent was an honour in itself.

The Ugly Man still got plenty of cheers - even if his loudest supporters were the older spectators. However, while the performer and his biggest fans might be of an age it was notable to her that all of his dancers were in the early twenties. What was more - they could all dance and they were all good-looking. Beautiful young women and toned, fit, young men. All locals save for her.