Oz Beach Boy Goes Nude Diving

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

This is an entry in the 2024 SUMMER LOVIN' CONTEST, so I'd really appreciate it if you could take the time to leave a score.

This story features my recurring character Matt (a muscular, well-hung, twenty-something, sex-addicted male exhibitionist) while in his younger years working as a bartender and dive instructor on the tropical resort of Medika Island. In this entry, Matt goes nude diving with an older African-American woman and then enjoys a tryst on a secluded island beach.

This story features CFNM, body worship, talk of mild femdom, voyeurism, fellatio, cunnilingus and sex. This is a complete work of fiction. All characters are over eighteen.

I am endeavouring to gradually write a CFNM "Oz Beach Boy" story in every Literotica category. This entry: "Interracial Love".

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It was a warm summer afternoon on Medika Island in Australia's Whitsundays. Kalisha Washington looked at her handsome young dive instructor's body and smiled. It had taken the 49-year-old native New Yorker a long time to settle on Medika Island as her holiday destination, and she was now happy as all hell she had.

"So, you've never dived before?" Matt asked.

"Not in the water, baby," Kalisha shot back with a cheeky grin. "I'm from New York...we don't have beaches like you do down here!"

"That's cool," Matt responded with a smile. "I can take you through everything."

"You sure can, sugar," Kalisha said, flirting outrageously and confidently with Matt.

Unfortunately, the gently undulating ocean had other ideas. Just as Kalisha stood sexily with her hip cocked and her hand resting on her big, round, beautifully curved butt, a small wave hit the side of Matt's softly lolling boat, and Kalisha almost fell over. The 49-year-old gapped her legs horribly as she tried to compose herself, and her big, pillowy, dark-skinned breasts flopped ridiculously in her red-and-black one-piece swimsuit.

"Goddamn," Kalisha shrieked, and Matt gently took her arm, helping the beautiful African-American woman to settle herself. "This shit is dangerous! Motherfuckin' water...goddamn menace."

"It's okay," Matt said quietly. "It's a little bit rocky out here."

"A little bit rocky?" Kalisha shrieked, now awkwardly set on the gently rocking boat. "That shit was a motherfuckin' tsunami!"

Matt laughed good-naturedly, and Kalisha was struck again by how truly, staggeringly fine this much younger man was. With his chiselled features, long, sandy brown hair that hung way past his broad shoulders, and a tall, impressive frame, Matt literally looked like he'd walked out of a high-end men's fashion magazine.

Kalisha had mainly rolled with brothers in the past, but she had tapped a few white boys in her time too...none of them, however, were as fine as this hot young Aussie, Tarzan-lookin' motherfucker standing sexily in front of her.

Matt's wet hair fell over his handsome face, and his straight white teeth almost shone in the sun. Matt's short-sleeved wetsuit was unzipped to the waist, providing Kalisha with an alluring glimpse of his hairy, muscular torso beneath. Matt had a diving face-mask in his right hand and a pair of salt-slicked flippers in his left. He held them out, and Kalisha took them from him with a smile.

"And what the fuck am I supposed to do with this shit?" Kalisha asked.

"I'll show you, Kalisha," Matt said, and moved in closer. "It's okay."

Kalisha shivered with pleasure. The 49-year-old liked her men to be

men

, and not fucking pussies, and this hot young stud looked like a real "action man" in his wetsuit, almost like some motherfucker in a Hollywood blockbuster movie. Goddamn, this white boy was one hot motherfucker. Aaaaah, Medika Island...this luxury resort in Queensland's picturesque Whitsundays had really delivered.

After a year of hard work and huge success, Kalisha Washington goddamn loved being somewhere so warm, remote, peaceful and beautiful. Since she'd arrived on Medika Island, Kalisha had sunned herself all day, enjoyed a bunch of spa treatments, indulged in some nice Aussie food, drank a little Cristal with some other American guests, and relaxed in her own personal beachside luxury cabin. This shit wasn't cheap, but goddamn, it was worth every motherfuckin' cent.

"Here you go," Matt said, and pulled the face-mask over Kalisha's long, thick, curly mane of all-natural black hair, and then onto her gorgeous face.

"What in the fuck?" Kalisha whooped. "I feel like a goddamn fool! I must look like a motherfuckin' frog!"

"Well, you look beautiful," Matt said with a smile. "You look like a natural."

"Oooooh, baby," Kalisha responded to Matt's clumsy but sweet compliment, "you sure know how to talk to a woman. You Aussie guys have got some charm in your pockets! Thanks, baby."

"That's okay," Matt said, and then motioned for Kalisha to sit down. "Take a seat, Kalisha, and I'll put your flippers on."

The gorgeous 49-year-old awkwardly set her big butt down on the nearest seat, and Matt bent over and gently pulled the flippers onto Kalisha's dark-skinned feet until they felt snug and comfortable. The beautiful New Yorker took another peek at the handsome younger man's muscled, hair-covered chest. Thank fuck he wasn't waxed...Kalisha Washington liked her men rugged and natural, none of this manscaping bullshit.

"Whoever invented that shit should be motherfuckin' shot," Kalisha thought as she looked down at Matt's rippling forearms.

Kalisha Washington looked up at the blazing hot Australian summer sun through her face mask, and then peered around at the glistening blue ocean that surrounded Matt's small boat. Goddamn, it was beautiful. Not far off in the distance, the yellow sand of a tiny island beach beckoned.

Kalisha had worked hard to get here...the determined New Yorker hadn't enjoyed a real goddamn vacation in years. When she broke up with basketball manager Omar Hobbes - her hot, sexy, well-hung man of five years - Kalisha decided that this was

her

time.

After thirty years of non-stop, back-breaking work in the recording industry as an admin assistant, PR maven, back-up producer and engineer, department head, and talent manager, Kalisha Washington had finally made bank with her own independent record label, True Soul.

The savvy New Yorker had a real nose for talent, and she knew how to sell it too, even in these confusing times of the internet and non-physical media. Kalisha Washington was working it like a boss...goddamn it, she

was

the motherfuckin' boss!

Kalisha first made bank with a talented hip-hop crew out of Philly called Gunhill Train, and then rode that shit even harder when she signed Millie Dynamite, a super-smart, openly lesbian rapper whose poetic rhymes and keen intellect made her a big hit with audiences, critics and serious music fans alike.

Never wanting to play it safe, Kalisha diversified with the signing of a pretty, gifted white female folk singer from Portland called Freya Gersemi, who had a few surprise pop hits and proved another goddamn winner of a signing.

Sure as shit, the great selection of performers on True Soul weren't as big as Taylor Swift or pop superstar Emily Miller, but they were all damn fine artists, and Kalisha was proud as fuck of everyone in her stable.

Kalisha Washington really grabbed the green, however, when she signed Ebony Bytch, a tough-as-all-get-out female rapper from The Bronx who

Rolling Stone

later described as "Megan Thee Stallion with even less fucks given, and a permanently broken filter."

Ebony Bytch's critically acclaimed debut album

Alpha Female

banged right to number one, helped to the top by her instantly anthemic, expletive-dripping smash hit single "Peel Those Onions, Crush Those Nuts."

A mouthy, sassy, wholly uncompromising sex-positive feminist of the first order, the strikingly beautiful Ebony Bytch loudly and proudly preached girl power and nothing less than the complete exploding of the patriarchy.

Backed by the massive beats and hard-driving rhythms of master producer Trionyx, "Peel Those Onions, Crush Those Nuts" encouraged the women of the world to kick any loser men to the curb and make their own path in life. "Find yo-self a brother who yo equal, or do that shit yo-self," came the song's closing refrain, delivered in Ebony's ingeniously rolling urban patois.

The hit banger was accompanied by a raunchy, highly controversial video in which a bikini-clad, famously curvy Ebony Bytch rides around in a chariot pulled by a horde of muscular men of all colors wearing nothing but leather thongs and lashings of body oil. That, however, wasn't enough for Ebony Bytch.

"I want these motherfuckers nekkid," the ballsy rapper had yelled at Kalisha when they were planning the video. "I want their johnsons out! I wanna see their balls swingin'!"

"It'll be too hard to get that shit played," Kalisha protested, and they compromised with the leather thongs. "No johnsons! No swingin' balls, baby!"

With the aid of inventive CGI and the creative brilliance of award-winning female director One Hit Wanda, Ebony Bytch then charges fiercely through the city streets on her man-drawn chariot using a whip to flick off the clothing of any man that takes her fancy, leaving the hapless males standing confused and exposed in their underwear.

The video then ends with a saucily smiling Ebony Bytch going all the way and mercilessly whipping off the underwear of one fine young man, who quickly covers his exposed crotch with his hands before the camera can see his goodies. The song and video got media attention all day long, and Kalisha lapped it up.

The style-conscious Ebony Bytch even started a major fashion trend. In a signature move, the sexy rapper always wore a single, solitary pink silk glove on her left hand, nearly up to the crook in her arm. Pretty soon, young women, and some men too, began sporting a pink silk glove to wear their fandom like a badge of honour. No reason was ever given by Ebony Bytch for wearing the glove, which stoked up the mystery even further.

"Oh, you know why I wear the pink silk glove, sugar," Ebony Bytch replied enigmatically with a look of utter salacious sexiness when a male journalist asked her about it at a press conference. "You know

exactly

why I wear it, sweet thing. Mmmm hmmm..."

Uptight conservatives hated sex-positive feminist Ebony Bytch and tried to get her shit banned, while young women loved her and copied her style. Young men got on board too, turned on by Ebony's sexy rhymes...and probably her great body too. Ebony Bytch, known better to her mama as Pamela Jones, was a cause celebre, and Kalisha Washington and True Soul made very, very big on their risky initial investment.

With Ebony Bytch comfortably ensconced at the top of the charts and in her own luxurious penthouse on Staten Island, Kalisha Washington had finally taken the opportunity to enjoy a vacation. Desperate for some peace and quiet, the gloriously independent woman left her staff and friends at home, and lit out for Australia on her own. Loving life on Medika Island, Kalisha Washington was one very happy sister.

Still stunned by Matt's youthful sexiness, Kalisha decided to up her flirtatiousness to the next level. The gorgeous 49-year-old had caught twenty-something Matt checking out her big titties on more than a few occasions, and he'd been very complimentary of her, so Kalisha made the safe assumption that Matt likely found her attractive too, despite the considerable age difference between the two. Kalisha Washington might have been 49-motherfuckin'-years-old, sugar, but she still had it!

"It's pretty hot out here, baby," Kalisha said with a smile. "Do you really need to wear that wetsuit? Couldn't you just go diving in your Speedo?"

"Um, yeah...I guess so," Matt replied. "You're right, it's pretty hot, and the water's warm today."

With a smile, Matt unzipped his wetsuit all the way down to his crotch as Kalisha watched him intently, her big, brown eyes never leaving his youthful body. Matt then peeled the wetsuit off his muscled, rippling arms, and then wrenched it from his body. He let it dangle loosely from his waist as he swept his long, wet, sandy brown hair back off his handsome face.

With a very naughty smile, Kalisha drank in the delirious sight of the young man's now completely bare torso. Covered in thick swathes of masculine hair, Matt's pectoral muscles were rock-hard and perfectly formed, while his abdomen was heavily ridged. His big biceps bulged as he moved, and his strong-looking forearms rippled with quiet power. Motherfucker, this was one hot white boy!

Standing over 6" tall with broad shoulders and long legs, Matt was a very, very impressive physical specimen. Kalisha had always preferred brothers to white boys, but Matt really was quite the sight. Kalisha licked her thick, full lips and watched in wonder as the strapping hunk pushed his long, wet hair off his face again with both hands, making his biceps bulge even more impressively.

"That's it, baby," Kalisha said encouragingly, and Matt smiled bashfully. "Don't be shy."

With a big smile, Matt then slid the wetsuit over his hips and down his legs, gracefully stepping out of it completely when it fell down onto the deck of the boat at his feet. Like a long-haired sex god, the hot young white boy was now near-nude, clad in just a skimpy, black, bikini-style Speedo, which showed off his lean, muscled body in all its hunky, masculine glory. Kalisha was now convinced that Matt was indeed a very manly man...all hair, muscle and youthful suppleness.

With not one single motherfuckin' hint of guilt, Kalisha continued to ogle and horribly objectify her young diving instructor, gazing at how snugly his Speedo clung to his toned, beautifully shaped butt, and how rivers of sweat dripped through his mess of body hair and glistened in the hot summer sun. Kalisha wondered if Matt could sing...maybe she could make this sexy white boy famous?

Kalisha's eyes trawled thirstily down Matt's body, and she was soon very, very pleased to see that this fine young white boy also really filled out his Speedo, with a hugely impressive bulge straining against the thin fabric of his tight swimsuit and obviously indicating Matt to be extremely well-hung indeed.

Kalisha Washington didn't consider herself a size queen, and she could certainly attest to the fact that not all brothers have BBCs, but the beautiful 49-year-old did prefer a shotgun to a derringer, that shit was just the fact. Whatever way you played it, a big johnson was just easier on the eyes, and it felt better all big and fierce inside your coochie too. Small is fine, but big is best.

"Mmmm hmmmm," Kalisha said with a wicked smile as she gleefully looked the gorgeously attractive and physically impressive Matt up and down in his revealing little Speedo. "Damn, boy, you are fine!"

"Thanks, Kalisha," Matt said bashfully, and the 49-year-old almost felt herself get wet, "you look pretty amazing in your swimsuit too. If you don't mind me saying, you have an incredible body."

"I don't mind you sayin' that shit, ever!" Kalisha whooped. "I'm damn near too close to fifty to complain about no man sayin' I got me an incredible body! You don't ever have to stop sayin' that shit, baby!"

"Well, it's the truth, Kalisha," Matt said, and then paused. "Now, let's get you ready for this dive, okay?"

"Righteous, baby, righteous," Kalisha said. "You take care of my black ass down there, yo."

"Of course," Matt said, and then the near-nude young hunk talked Kalisha through the ins and outs of simple snorkel diving.

As the boat gently rocked, Matt was clear and patient with the 49-year-old New Yorker, explaining everything slowly, and answering all of Kalisha's questions respectfully, obviously noticing how nervous she was about her first dive, and treating her with real care and sensitivity. Kalisha was now impressed by how sweet Matt was too. Damn this white boy!

When Kalisha Washington saw the range of dive courses and experiences offered on Medika Island's virtual notice board on the morning she arrived, the sassy New Yorker was instantly intrigued, but very much uncertain. Kalisha had no experience in the water (except for in a hot tub), and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle the Australian ocean.

On further reading, Kalisha saw the offer of individualized, personalized, single dive courses for just one island guest at a time. They were tagged as popular with beginners, and ideal for those inexperienced and uncomfortable in the water. Kalisha decided to nut the fuck up and go for it.

When Kalisha went through the online list of Medika Island's dive instructors, which featured short bios and photos, she gasped when she saw Matt. He was gorgeous, and not surprisingly, Kalisha had to wait nearly to the end of her vacation for a solo diving session with Matt because he was booked solid...probably with women and gays!

"Okay, I think that's everything," Matt said. "It's time to get wet."

"I'm already wet, sugar," Kalisha muttered under her breath.

"What's that?" Matt asked with a smile.

"Nothin', baby," Kalisha replied, and then frowned. "I get it all, Matt, but I'm still nervous about jumping in. I don't want no Jaws motherfucker chomping my black ass!"

"It's okay," Matt said, "I'll look out for you. There aren't any sharks around here."

"Matt, I'm a tough-ass bitch," Kalisha said earnestly, "but I can't lie, this shit's got me runnin' scared."

"Well, what can we do to relax you and calm you down?" Matt asked thoughtfully. "I really want you to experience this, Kalisha. It'll be beautiful down there. You've come all this way. You have to experience this. What can we do?"

A smile slowly spread across Kalisha's sweat-beaded face. She was enjoying the sexy back-and-forth of flirtatiousness and compliments that had been bouncing between Matt and herself, and the confident older woman decided to see just how far she could play it. Kalisha Washington was horny as all hell, and she wanted to see if she could actually get herself some.

"Well, baby," Kalisha said cheekily, "a distraction could be helpful...how about you take off that sexy little Speedo?"

"What?" Matt responded with obvious surprise. "You want me to take off my swimsuit?"

"Yeah, baby," Kalisha replied. "I don't want to embarrass you, sweet thing, but I can pretty much see everything anyway. Those little panties don't leave much to the imagination, son."

"Oh, my god," Matt muttered.

"Seeing you bare-ass would definitely take my mind off what could be in the water down there," Kalisha said. "Come on, Matt...you ain't got nothin' to be ashamed of. I can pretty much see what you're packing."

"Oh...okay...this is embarrassing," Matt said with a weak smile. "I like you, Kalisha...I'll do it...I'll go nude for you."

"Thank you, baby," Kalisha said sweetly. "That will help."

Matt looked Kalisha in the eye, and then slowly undid the drawstring of his black Speedo. The skimpy swimsuit instantly loosened, and Matt slid his thumbs into the thin fabric covering his hips. With a smile, the young hunk then pushed the Speedo down, his wild, messy spread of light brown pubic hair appearing straight away above the swimsuit's slack, drooping waistband.

Kalisha looked on fascinated at the amount of thick, curled hair hidden by Matt's swimsuit. A lot of her recent lovers were far more manscaped and well-groomed than this handsome young Aussie, and Kalisha was fearsomely turned on by Matt's hirsute manliness.

Kalisha got even hotter when the Speedo kept going down and she saw the wide base of Matt's cock, and then the fleshy, veiny, incredible thickness of its shaft. Matt slid his swimsuit down further, and his enormous johnson then swung out from between his hairy, muscled thighs, where it had obviously been tucked out of necessity.