We'd been fooling around on the sand for a while when we saw her paddling towards the secluded beach in the weathered old kayak. Deep ebony skin, waist-length hair that was braided to prevent it tangling. Lithe but curvaceous, with a bright lime green bikini with black strings, clearly designed to emphasise the full breasts they presented more than covered. It would have needed an acre of fabric to cover those fabulous breasts and ass.
Jenny, my fiancée, caught me staring. "Wipe that drool from your chin, honey."
"Sorry babe. I was staring, wasn't I."
"Uh-huh." She sat up on the beach, and followed my gaze. "Damn, though."
"I know, right!"
We watched her drag the kayak onto the fine white sand, over the other side of the private bay. She gave no sign of having seen us, but we must have been plainly visible. She just concentrated on gathering driftwood from the tide line and other dry wood scraps from the forest's edge. We looked on in appreciation as she used a flick-knife from the boat to make some thin shavings, then effortlessly lit them with sparks from another tool. She built a pyramid of tinder-dry kindling and then logs over the flames, and soon there was a roaring campfire burning away. She turned, pushed the kayak back out into the water, and paddled away.
Her body was magical to watch; every movement efficient and beautiful. As she'd leant over, the bikini struggled to contain her swinging breasts. The cords of the G-string briefs and bikini were black, and so from behind she appeared completely naked. As she bent over to push the kayak back into the sea, she presented us with the perfect view of her luscious ass.
"You're thinking about fucking her, aren't you," Jenny accused me. It was pointless to deny it; the kayak girl was an ebony goddess. I looked at Jenny, eyebrow raised. I knew her, very well, and she admitted what I already suspected. "Yeah, okay, you're right. I'm thinking about fucking her too. God, what an ass."
"Really? My eyes didn't get down that far," I joked. She swatted at me, playfully.
"I can be your little island girl, if you like," she said with a wry smile. "Teach me your western ways of love, Mr Stranger," she said, pulling me down on top of her.
///
The day I met Jenny must have been the luckiest in my life. A chance meeting at a social event, and I'd found my soulmate - someone who 'got' me, who was interested in me for me and not for my money. That she was as dirty and playful as I could ever have hoped was such a marvellous change from the stuck-up bitches my parents had sent my way; and it helped that we had a similar taste in women. She'd regularly point out hotties to me, and we'd delight in sharing notes about them and what we'd want to do to them. Several memorable encounters had followed from one or both of us seducing another woman into our bed for an evening, or a weekend.
We'd come away for a couple of weeks to celebrate our engagement, to an exclusive resort in the Seychelles I knew about through the grapevine. It was so remote, so exclusive, that we'd had to take a jet, then a prop-seaplane and finally a boat to get to the island. Privacy and discretion were assured, and the private apartments were far enough apart that even Jenny's wild screaming wouldn't alert anyone else to our adventures.
That first night in the resort, we didn't even make it out of our room. I called down to reception for some appropriate supplies. It had been a long day of travelling, trapped in other people's company, and we'd had our hands off each other for too long. Suitcases dumped just inside the door, we ignored everything else, found the bedroom, and went for each other.
Jenny tapped my head, and I came up for air.
"I think room service has arrived," she said. "You'll have to go, I'm a little tied up at the moment." I'm sure she could have pulled free of the silk scarves if she wanted, but that would have spoiled the game.
"Sorry, I couldn't hear anything with your thighs against my ears," I explained. I rose, wrapped a nearby robe around myself, and went to open the door. A native girl, quite pretty and very busty, pushed the trolley through into the living space. My eyes were drawn to her impressive chest - the uniform's blouse was straining at the buttons, and I could peek through the gap to the bounty inside. Her nametag, somewhat implausibly, declared her name to be Kate.
"You sign?" she presented me with the tab, and I autographed it for her. As I passed it back to her, I noticed she'd been looking towards the bedroom, where Jenny was on full display.
"Enjoy your evening, sir," said 'Kate', with a wink. I watched her fine ass sway out of the door, then took the dessert plates straight through to the bedroom.
"Strawberries and cream, how terribly English of you," Jenny remarked.
"I'd turn a few heads eating them like this at Wimbledon," I said, spooning a generous amount of cream onto her breasts, before proceeding to eat it back off. The coolness of the cream made her nipples stand to attention, all the more sensitive for my warm lips and tongue to tease.
The fruit I let pool in her lap; there was plenty of cream for them down there.
"I hear strawberries make your cum taste sweeter," she noted. "We must check that out later."
"I'll hold you to it."
///
A couple of days later, we decided to explore the surroundings. Jenny was very much a morning-sex person, and she dragged me off the path into the woodland round the edge of the resort. I held her legs while she leant back against a tree, and we brought each other in the relative privacy of the forest, with the sound of the native wildlife chirping all around us. We'd pushed on through the woodland, to find a secluded beach beyond, not directly accessible from the resort, and completely deserted. I put the cooler down, and we both leant against it, looking out at the crystal-clear pale blue water while laying on thick fluffy beach towels.
It wasn't long before Jenny had removed her swimwear and lay naked, sunning herself in the privacy of this undiscovered bay, and warming me too. I drizzled cool sun cream across her back, and ran my hands over her. I knelt astride her waist and massaged her shoulders, working out a few kinks, before sliding my hands further down, teasing the side of her breasts as I worked down towards her hips. Then I turned, working her legs, caressing her feet and sliding my creamed fingers between her toes. Her feet were very sensitive, and I knew how much she loved them being touched.
I worked my hands back up her legs, onto her thighs. She parted her legs, eagerly, and I slid my hands up further to caress her magnificent arse. As I worked her glutes, she pulled her knees wide and raised herself from the towel. My fingers were inside her, warm and wet and waiting.
"God, what you do to me," she said, smiling. I shuffled forwards on my knees and slowly slipped inside her, my hands on her hips to calm the pace. Long, smooth strokes; we had all day. What could be more perfect than making love to a beautiful woman on a paradise island?
Toying with her clit while I worked my whole length in and out of her, it wasn't long before her breath shortened, and she came, cursing and praising. I slowed the pace so she could catch her breath again, and went to roll her onto her back.
"No chance, I'm on top," she insisted. "No way am I getting sand in me."
Fair enough. I didn't fancy spending the week with my privates raw from abrasion burns either. Girl-on-top suited me just fine, a great view and I could watch her face while we fucked. I laid down and let her climb on board.
The only other person we saw all morning was the kayak girl. She was paddling back into the bay by the time Jenny and I had finished each other off. Lazily we pulled our costumes back on, since she was heading back for our beach. Once more she pulled the kayak up onto the sand behind her, and headed over to her fire which had died down considerably. She took a frame from the kayak and erected it over the embers, and placed a pan on top. Then she took a couple of fish from the boat - freshly caught and gutted at sea - and began to fry them there on the beach. She turned to us, and beckoned us over.
"Now that's the life," Jenny said. "Catching your own food, cooking it in the open. Sexy and resourceful, what's not to like?"
"You've got it bad," I noted, and - thinking we shouldn't wander over empty-handed - reached into the cooler for a few beers to take over. She watched us approach, but with half an eye on the fish.
"Sorry to disturb you," said the fisher-girl.
"Not at all. Those smell amazing, did you catch them?"
"Yes. Out there," she waved vaguely round the headland. "Fish is good here. Plenty. You like?"
"Thank you very much. Beer?"
"Merci."
We ate the fish using our fingers, using silver foil from a roll she had as makeshift plates. She continued cooking, there was quite a bucketful in the kayak. "For my family," she explained. "Must cook fresh, or it will go bad." She lay the cooked fish on the foil, and wrapped them after they'd cooled.
Her English may have been halting, but it was better than my French would ever be. In patois that was part English, part French and some local creole, she told us her story - of how she'd managed to get employment at the resort, to help earn money to support her family. The wages were low by Western standards, but it was enough to keep them afloat, with her mother also cleaning at the resort. It was only when she introduced herself as Kate that I realised where I'd seen her before.
