Jason strode up the curving concrete path leading from the beach to the car park above. Two beach chicks passed him, openly perving at him with open mouths. He was well over six feet with very broad shoulders. A mat of black hair centred between the hard buds of his black nipples, trailed down to a rippling eight pack stomach. While most of the beach denizens wore ridiculously long legged shorts(?), his enormous bulging manhood was defiantly displayed in skin hugging speedos. The two chicks dragged their eyes up to a handsome profile, eyes hidden behind sunnies. A light stubble of beard only made him appear more manly, more virile. His tan was a deep brown only obtained by years in the sun. Their little pussies pouted but he ignored them as they passed. He heard them giggling a little later.
He strode on, across the car park to the lawns of the beachside pub. He threw his towel onto one of the outdoor chairs and fetched a beer from the bar. Jason took a swallow and got a small cigar from his bum bag, lit it and leaned back to check out the action.
It was the usual situation. Locals, tanned and casual strode purposely around the small shopping area opposite the pub. New tourists, mostly white skinned were dressed down and wandered aimlessly looking in shop windows, gravitating toward the beach. Holiday makers headed determinely for the beach, dragging assorted kids, wives and paraphernalia with them.
The day was perfect, the place was perfect, his life was perfect. Only 21, Jason had started with a quarter of a million left by his paternal grandfather and had parlayed that into millions playing the stock market. He had invested a substantial amount in land in this just discovered beach haven and stood to make millions more. He lived in what looked like a beach shack on the outside but was palatial inside just a short walk from the pub. He had one of the locals into clean and launder and he treated the pub restaurant as his kitchen. Why not? Jason owned 51% and his mate Brad and his wife the remainder.
He had few friends, but they were genuine. Almost none of the locals suspected how wealthy he really was and thought him nothing but an unemployed layabout with rich parents. Jason actually spent hours each day on his computer, researching, analysing, buying, selling, making money.
He didn’t fuck with the locals with two exceptions. He threw a fuck or two at a discreet widow who lived nearby in exchange for the occasional home cooked meal. She was plump and juicy and wild in bed but presented a stern face to the outside world as the town’s librarian. The second woman owned a number of the prawn trawlers moored in the nearby marina. He had crewed for her for something different to do. She was big and somewhat weather beaten, stripped, she was all white flesh, bursting blue veined breasts and an insatiable cunt. She kept quiet because she was a known lesbian with a maniacal spitfire for a lover who would not hesitate to remove Jason’s balls with a filleting knife if she found out.
He could pick up a beach chick with ease and had fucked many of them. His preference was for tourists rather than holiday makers. Jason would fuck them in their hotel room while the hubby or the boyfriend were hairing up and down the coast in their boy toys - boats or jet skis. Meanwhile, he would be slipping a length to an ignored trophy companion. Idiots! He had gone off holiday makers after having to floor an irate husband who had come back early from beach fishing to discover his big titted wife bouncing up and down on Jason’s meaty cock. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that both of them continued to hound him for the next two weeks until they finished their holiday.
He’d just finished his cigar and most of his beer, when a short, gray haired man sat down opposite. Jason frowned. He’d experience of faggots, young and old, coming on to him. “Yes?” he growled, “can I help you?”
“I’m very sorry to bother you young man, but my wife would like to meet you and buy you a drink.” He was european. His accent was gutteral and he pronounce the word wife as ‘vife’. He gestured to a table behind him.
Jason glanced around. A woman, middle aged but expensively preserved sat regarding him from behind large sun glasses, a glass with exotic coloured liquid topped with some fruit in her hands. Large diamonds glittered on her chubby fingers. Her hair was blonde and greying. She wore a smart dress that reeked of expense, cut low to reveal an expansive cleavage. Under the table, he could see smooth shapely calves tapering to fine ankles and pedicured feet shod in fashionable sandals. The somewhat disdaining look she gave him, intrigued Jason enough to mutter “Okay” and, grabbing his towel and bum bag, moved over to their table.
“Vot vill you haff?” the man asked.
“Beer - the girl will know.”
Jason looked at the woman and she gazed impassively back at him, both their expressions hidden by their sunglasses
Her husband moved off and returned with two beers. Setting one down in front of Jason, he introduced himself. “I am Klaus and this Inge. We are here only one night. Our daughter is down at the beach. We are from Switzerland enjoying your wonderful country one week more. What is your name?”
“Jason.” He smiled at her, his flashing white teeth gleaming from his tanned dark face. She did not respond except to sip from the straw in her drink.
