Proteína en la playa nudista

The summer sun was already blazing when the low, predatory growl of a sport bike ripped through the gravel parking lot of the nude beach. A black Kawasaki with bright red accents pulled to a stop, and a girl dismounted gracefully. Her name was Vika. Short black hair, tanned skin, a lean body with a light road tan. She wore only leather moto-boots, a short jacket she unzipped and tossed onto the seat, and a helmet she pulled off last. Under the jacket—nothing. Her small, firm tits with silver rings through the nipples immediately felt the hot air. And below—no panties at all.

The whole ride down the highway, the vibration of the powerful engine and the hard leather seat had done their work. Her smooth-shaven pussy had been rubbing against the warm leather the whole time, her clit pulsing from the constant thrum, and by the time she arrived, thick clear moisture was already glistening between her big, fleshy labia. Her lips were swollen, heavy, and slightly parted, like they were inviting stares.

Vika left the bike, kicked off her boots, and walked barefoot to the water. Her small but very juicy ass swayed with each step. She waded into the warm sea up to her waist, splashed water on her face, ran her palms over her tits, giving the nipple rings a little tug, then came back to shore. She picked a spot on the hot sand, lay down on her back, spread her legs wide, and closed her eyes. The sun caressed her body. Her small tits with their pierced, hard nipples glistened with water, and between her thighs, her meaty, already noticeably horny pussy was on full display. The big outer lips were slightly open, revealing a shiny pink inside and a swollen clit.

She lay there for about ten minutes when a shadow stopped beside her. Vika cracked an eye open. In front of her stood a fit guy, maybe twenty-seven. Tall, with a ripped six-pack, tanned. His big, but still soft, cock was circumcised, the head smooth and thick, swinging slightly between his muscular thighs.

"Badass bike you got," he said, nodding toward the lot. "Ninja? What's the displacement?"

"Six hundred," Vika replied lazily, checking out his body. "You like speed?"

"Love it. I ride a Ducati myself, but it's in the shop right now. You come here alone?"

The conversation flowed easily—about engines, tracks, night races. The guy sat down next to her on the sand, his heavy cock now resting almost on his thigh, still soft but already noticeably filling out. Vika listened with half an ear. Her eyes kept drifting back to that thick, meaty pole. Then, right in the middle of a sentence about carburetors, she reached out and wrapped her warm hand around his cock.

The guy stopped mid-word. Vika started jerking him off slowly, feeling the thick flesh harden under her fingers. The head swelled up, smooth and hot. At the same time, she slipped her other hand between her own legs and started playing with her wet cunt. Two fingers slid easily between her big lips; she let out a soft moan and began fingering herself, still steadily stroking his now fully hard cock.

"Fuck…" was all the guy could breathe out, watching her slender fingers grip his thick shaft.

She jerked him off confidently, squeezing at the base and sliding her palm up, pressing the head each time. Her own pussy was squelching, juice running down her perineum onto the sand. When she felt his balls tighten and his cock start pulsing extra hard, Vika lunged forward, opened her mouth, and literally sealed her lips around the swollen head.

The guy groaned. Hot, thick ropes of cum shot straight down her throat. She didn't pull back an inch—she swallowed greedily, sucking out every last drop until his cock stopped twitching. She let him out of her mouth with a wet pop, licked her lips, looked him in the eye, and said calmly:

"Thanks for the protein. Really helps after a long ride."

Vika got up, brushed the sand off her hips, ran her fingers over her wet, now slightly reddened pussy one more time, like she was checking how much she was dripping. She put on her boots, her jacket, not even zipping it up, and walked to her bike. She swung on, started the engine. The powerful roar echoed across the beach. She shot one last look at the still-stunned guy, smirked, and peeled out, leaving only dust and the smell of hot gasoline behind.

Her pussy pressed against the vibrating seat again, already soaked from arousal and someone else's cum on her tongue. The road ahead promised a lot more fun.