{This story includes exhibitionism, incest, interracial and Dom. Read at your discretion.}
That was decadent fun! I better write my notes before they fade from memory.
My wife, Ann, got a high paying assignment for a syndicated column to interview the King of the Mercenaires Épée Meilleurs, often just called MEM. He led a tribe of primal warriors who put their faith in the Épée Mercenaires, a specific type of battle épée, sword. Four previous reporters never filed their stories and vanished without a trace. They were all dark skinned, like the MEM, so my white family is a new approach for the journal. The editors warned that she had to assimilate into the tribe by completing certain primitive rituals and agreeing to anything the king asked. She foolishly agreed.
Sensing high danger, I chose to go with Ann as an extra eye and to protect her. My twenty-year-old son begged to come along for the periphery Voodoo experience. Since we couldn't talk him out of coming, we planned extending the trip into a family vacation as well.
The resort hotel was just three stars, but clean and adequate. It included an adults-only pool where women wore scanty bikinis, usually topless, and full nudity, male and female, was ignored. My shy wife brought a daring, blue, micro bikini with a thong, but was afraid to wear it with our son around. He insisted, with a grin, he was an adult and would be in that pool with or without us.
Ann had to shave her pubes down to a small blond patch or let her curlies overflow the top, as was a tempting Japanese fashion trend. No matter how many times I see my blond beauty naked, my heart races. My cock and I enjoyed watching her shave. Imagining stretching her labia out as she shaved her dampening pussy made my cock throb. I sighed when she put on her soothing lotion followed by her thong. She put on a full wrap cover-up to hide her beautiful, bare cheeks, but there was no hiding her bountiful boobs in the tiny, deep scoop, top. The narrow cups left nearly half her sumptuous tits on display. Our son, Dean, and I tried to restrict our drooling, but our Speedos left little to imagine. We followed Ann to the pool and watched the attempted restraints as her boobs rose and threatened to escape with every step. Too busy flitting between mounding boobs and ass crack shadow, we didn't realize our religion was showing with our bulging suits.
At the pool, Dean and I immediately jumped into the water to 'cool down' as Ann carefully unwrapped, then quickly sat on a lounger. Among the twenty women there, every one of them was topless, except for Ann. Some were tiny, some droopy, yet all were interesting. "Are you going to join the topless parade, Ann?" She looked around at all the bare tits, then at Dean.
"Perhaps later, dear. When we have more privacy." She nodded to the two strangers approaching, and adjusted her floppy hat.
"Hi. This must be your first day. Our wives also resisted going topless for nearly an hour. They're standing there drinking and showing off their tits. Looks like your wife has a great pair we can't wait to see. Later." Despite the cold water, my dick immediately swelled as I admired the beauty of the four tits gently swaying above us. Ann stole glances at the shapely tits teasing us. The husbands swam to get out of the pool near Ann. They were both naked. Ann's nipples hardened as her eyes followed their stiffening, rocking rods. They stared at her nearly exposed nipples as they pointedly looked down into her top. When they reached their wives, both men kissed both wives deeply and rolled their nipples. I heard Dean groan. One of them pushed a wife's bottom over her pumpkin-shaped ass and groped it. I sighed. She was slow to cover up.
With most of the men naked, Dean and I didn't feel the need to hide our bulges when we climbed onto our loungers. Ann said nothing, but I noticed her slyly rubbing her glass against her barely hidden mound. After an hour of staring at the sights, we left. Ann's top never came off. "Maybe tomorrow," she apologized. When Ann removed the cover-up in our room, the thong's string had disappeared deep into her cheeks. I'm sure Dean would have soiled his Speedo -- I nearly did as I imagined those naked men staring at her bared ass.
The MEM king pushed Ann's interview up a day, so we didn't get back to the pool. We met our guide, Enu, in the outskirts of N'Orleans and he gave us insights on how to behave and said to dress simply. He explained that this fringe group had splintered from pure Voodoo and formed new customs; rumors of those customs are what Ann's boss wanted confirmed or busted. He arranged for us to be part of a ceremony and a one hour interview with the King of the affiliated islands nation.
We changed into matching Khaki shirts and shorts. As if her shorts weren't short enough, Ann daringly cut them off to what some might say was indecent and barely longer than a bikini. Since our guide said villagers wore minimal clothes, and some wore none, Ann wanted to blend in, especially after the naked show at the pool raised her libido. At best, her shorts exposed nearly half her cheeks and the groin-level trim with wide legging exposed much of her G-string. Despite yesterday's show, my son's reaction to seeing his mom's long, sexy legs, bared cheeks, and tiny panties was much as mine. Our silk boxers did little to hide a sudden swelling.
The heat and humidity were oppressive and our shirts were quickly soaked. Dean and I opened them and flapped them for a cooling breeze. Though Ann wasn't comfortable going that far, she removed her bra, fully unbuttoned her shirt and loosely tied it under her D-cups. As she moved, one nipple kept coming out. It stiffened beautifully when she caught Dean, me, and Enu staring at it. She blushed as she challenged, "Haven't you boys seen tits before? I hear we'll see many more where we're going."
Enu offered, "You won't see
any
other beautiful white women with waist-long blond hair. You will be a curiosity and must be prepared for stares and some touching, especially by the king." Not used to so much exposure or compliments, Ann blushed again as she put her hair in a pony tail.
The rough boat ride to the King's island took thirty minutes into the bayou and had Ann tightening the shirt knot and exposing a rebounding tit several times. Enu dropped us off and reminded us that he would be back for us late after noon the next day. A naked envoy from the King and several topless women met us at the shore and lead us into the village. Along the way, the envoy tattooed a beat on his small drum and the women whispered and pointed at us. Most of them stroked our arms and legs or Ann's exposed cheeks and soft hair. We all accepted the contact as a tribal norm.
When we arrived at the King's cottage, two other drummers beat a faster pace as we met the King and struggled with his Cajun English/Acadian French words. He explained that he rules over mixed peoples and cultures and they jointly adopted Louisiana voodoo. As we spoke standing, he kept casually pulling Ann's top open, exposing both tits before she could slowly re-tie her shirt. Though she blushed, she tolerated his antics. He felt her face, neck, chest, tits and ass under her tiny shorts and interrupted our interview several times with compliments on the softness of her skin and hair. She became less resistant and let King do as he pleased with her tits and ass. Though Dean and I were at a loss about how to deal with him, we did enjoy seeing her tits publically exposed and fondled. She wrote of his fascination with white skin and the sharp contrast with his large, ebony hand.
Interview over, the king invited us to a campfire-like dinner of jambalaya, magic mushrooms, and fresh kill. The Voodoo was hidden. King sat between his wife and mine, all cross legged. Naked women escorted Dean and me several seats away where we, and most of the circle, had a clear view up Ann's tiny cutoffs and the queens dark, hairy pussy under her loin cloth. All villagers wore a 10x10" loincloth which hung from a cincture. Most of the men slid them behind them to sit on so their varied sized and aroused dark cocks lay exposed. Ann assessed every one of them. Why were her lips twitching?
Several men and women seemed to point at and discuss her tiny G-string and her one visible, freshly shaved labium. Dean's shorts tented and I tried to signal her that her pussy was half exposed. That seemed to be the king's plan as he kept rubbing and holding her leg down and open. That rocking was also loosening her shirt knot. I began to wonder if she were deliberately ignoring me and beginning to enjoy flashing us. When her eyes focused on Dean's swelling and her mouth crinkled into a smile, I knew she knew.
Ann's eyes glazed over and she began thrusting her chest out and ignored the slipping shirt knot. Soon enough, the knot fell open and she ignored that too and kept chatting with the king with her beautiful tits swinging free for him. As lovers in private might do, he casually pinched her nipples as they spoke. Her deep inhales left no doubt she enjoyed the intimate touches and knew her sweet tits were on display.
