Prestwood - Clara's Story Pt. 01

Author's Note: All characters, events, and places described in this narrative are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This is the first of my 'Prestwood' series involving characters that were introduced in the 'Tutored in Temptation' series set at the prestigious Prestwood School in the United Kingdom. These Prestwood stories will run in parallel with the main Tutored in Temptation storyline which focuses on Emily and Darius. References will be included in the Prestwood stories back to events in the main storyline for context.

All comments and feedback are welcomed.

HF

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The young brown-haired woman pursed her lips as the looked at the draft on the laptop screen in front of her. The use of AI and Digital Innovation in International Event Management Planning by Clara Matthews Hmm, I probably need a better title for this, she thought to herself. She'd been a regular contributor discussion blog run by the Faculty of Arts at the University of Surrey since she'd first started there several years ago. Now, in her Honours year, her professors had encouraged her to write more challenging and compelling articles. I thought this was compelling... now it just sounds like a rehash of my final undergraduate paper.

She sighed as she glanced around the kitchen, searching for inspiration. The Lancasters' really have a delightful place here, she thought. Unfortunately, their well-appointed home didn't provide her with the inspiration she needed. Screw it, I'll just go with that as a title...

Making her way to the fridge, Clara glanced at the clock before opening the door. 6.04pm. Emily had said that she was going to be late, and Jonathan was likely still in his office in London. She hadn't seen him since Emily had gone to Edinburgh for several days just after New Year for a conference. With term underway again, it seemed like both Emily and Jonathan were flat out at work again. Can't complain... more money for me...

The money would certainly come in handy with her upcoming trip. Her parents had chipped in, but she had saved most of the money from her work as a nanny to the Lancasters. With both of them being away so much, it had added up quite a bit, especially over the past year.

She just poured herself a juice from the fridge and returned to her laptop when she heard footsteps approaching the kitchen.

"Clara, can I have some water, please?" Sophie Lancaster was Emily and Jonathan's six-year-old daughter. A lively and curious little girl, she loved having Clara read stories to her and her collection of dolls that were usually arranged on the floor of her bedroom. She had inherited her mother's chestnut-brown hair and bright blue eyes, not to mention her playful smile.

"Of course, Soph," Clara replied, taking the glass from the little girl's hands. She'd collected her from school earlier that afternoon, an increasingly regular occurrence while Emily and Jonathan worked late. She refilled the glass from the tap and handed it back to her.

"Have you finished reading that book on animals for school tomorrow?" Clara asked. Sophie nodded. "Can I watch some TV please?"

Clara sighed softly, giving her a little smile. The book was her only homework tonight and she'd already eaten her dinner. "Ok... but only till your Mum gets home."

The words had hardly left her mouth when Soph turned and dashed to the living room, a faint "Thank you" reaching Clara's ears. She shook her head good-naturedly and turned her attention back to her laptop.

It was only a few minutes later that she heard a key turning in the front door followed by a cry of "Mummy" from the living room. Clara heard the voice of Emily Lancaster speaking to her daughter before more footsteps approaching the kitchen.

Clara glanced up from her laptop. "Hi, Mrs. Lancaster," she said with a grin as the older woman entered the room.

Emily dropped her bag on the kitchen table with a sigh of relief. "Hi, Clara. Thanks for looking after Sophie," she said, flashing Clara a tired smile. The attractive wife and mother of Sophie was an English teacher at Prestwood School, the same school Clara had attended before going on to university. I don't remember teachers being so busy or working such long hours when I was there, she thought idly to herself.

"No problem, Mrs. Lancaster." She shut the lid of her computer and stretched her arms over her head. "I can always use the extra money," she added, her tone casual but sincere. It was an excellent job, easy money. She knew she would have to start looking for something more permanent this year now she was coming to the end of her degree.

Emily chuckled as she put the kettle on as Clara placed her laptop away in her bag. "When do you leave for your trip?" the older woman asked.

"Next week," Clara said, her face lighting up at the thought as Emily pulled out a couple of mugs from the cupboard. "Just a few more days of lectures and babysitting, and then it's sun, sand, and sangria."

"Jealous doesn't even begin to cover it," Emily admitted with a smile, leaning against the counter as she waited for the water to boil. "Where exactly are you going again?"

"Gran Canaria," Clara said, grinning. "One of my uni mates found this cheap deal for a villa. There's a group of six of us going. Should be fun."

"Well, it sounds amazing," Emily said, pouring water into two mugs. "And much warmer than Guildford in January."

"You're telling me," Clara said, laughing. "I can't wait to escape this weather. Plus, I finally get to wear the new bikini I bought last week."

Emily raised an eyebrow, carrying the mugs over to the table. "New bikini, eh? Planning to turn some heads while you're there?"

Clara laughed, a little self-consciously. "Maybe. I mean, it's just a holiday with friends, but... you never know, right?"

Emily handed her a mug and sat down. "Exactly. You never know who you might meet. Just promise me you'll be careful, alright? Holidays can make even sensible people... well, you know..." she waved her hand vaguely.

Clara grinned. "Relax, Mrs. Lancaster. Don't worry about me. I'm the queen of caution."

Emily gave her a knowing look. "You say that now, but sun, sangria, and a villa can sometimes lead to... less cautious decisions. With boys, I mean."

Clara snorted. "Okay, fair. But birth control's not exactly my thing -- bad reaction to the pill in sixth form. Headaches, mood swings... all sorts of stuff." She shrugged. "Condoms work fine when needed."

Emily smiled. "Sounds sensible enough. But, you know, holidays can be unpredictable. Just... keep it in mind, yeah?"

Clara laughed, trying to shake off the slight awkwardness. "I will, I will. Trust me, I'm not about to make any life-altering decisions on a whim."

"Good," Emily said, smiling warmly. "I only nag because I care."

"Well, thank you," Clara said, genuinely touched. "Honestly, though, I'm just looking forward to getting away. Uni's been so full-on lately, and babysitting's great, but... I need a break."

Emily nodded sympathetically. "You've earned it. And don't worry about Sophie while you're gone. We'll manage just fine."

"Are you sure?" Clara asked, glancing towards the living room where Sophie's giggles could be heard as she watched one of her cartoons. "I feel a bit guilty leaving you in the lurch. Especially since you've both been so busy lately." The corners of Emily's eyes tightened slightly at Clara's words.

"Don't be ridiculous," Emily said firmly. "Go, enjoy yourself. Recharge. You deserve it."

Clara smiled, a wave of gratitude washing over her. "Thanks, Mrs. Lancaster. I really appreciate that."

"Emily, please," Emily corrected with a playful smile. "You can call me Emily, Clara. You're practically family." It was true, she seemed to spend more time here than she did at her parents' house. She and her parents had known the Lancasters since they'd moved to the area when she was a little girl. Once she had finished school, they had contacted her with the offer of some part-time nanny work. Much better rates with them, Clara had mused at the time, comparing what some of her friends were earning.

Clara laughed softly. It was a hard habit to break, she'd always called them Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster since she had been a little girl. "Alright, Emily. Thank you."

The two women chatted a little longer, the conversation drifting to lighter topics like travel plans and the best places to eat in Gran Canaria. Eventually, Clara glanced at her watch and realised it was time to head home.

"I should get going," she said, closing her laptop and gathering her things. "Thanks for the tea."

"Anytime," Emily said, walking her to the door. "Have a great trip, Clara. And remember -- be careful!"

Clara grinned as she pulled on her coat. "I will, Emily. I promise."

"Good," Emily said, opening the door. "And don't forget to send me some pictures of you at the beach. I want to see how much I should be envying you."

Clara laughed as she stepped out into the cold January night. "Deal. Goodnight, Emily."

"Goodnight, Clara," Emily said, watching her go with a fond smile before closing the door.

*****

The small group of friends burst through the door of the villa, laughter and shouts spilling out into the sunny afternoon. Clara trailed behind, her suitcase dragging on the tiled floor as the others raced ahead. At last, she thought! I can't wait to have a look around.

"This is lush!" Abby declared, flinging open the double doors to reveal a spacious living room with sleek furniture and a view of the pool. After the cold English winter, Gran Canaria seemed like a tropical paradise for the young women.

"Bruv, this gaff is well bougee," chimed in Ellie, already tossing her bag onto a sofa, and running to the patio doors. "Oi, check that pool! I'm jumpin' in the sec we've unpacked."

"Chill, Ellie, let us clock it first!" laughed Clara, kicking off her trainers and following her friend outside. Now that she was away on holidays, she could relax and talk more naturally in the way her friends did. Being around someone like Emily Lancaster could be tiring -- especially with her expectations as an English teacher.

The sunlit patio sparkled, a turquoise pool framed by white loungers and colourful bougainvillaea. Beyond the villa, a glimpse of the beach shimmered in the distance. The girls giggled excitedly at the expanse of beach and the groups of people already set up on the sand.

"This is it, girlies," said Steph, dropping her bag by the pool. "No lectures, no graft, no bloody rain -- just us and this paradise."

Clara smiled as she adjusted her sunglasses, her excitement bubbling beneath her calm demeanour. She felt a rare sense of freedom; the weight of coursework and babysitting back in Guildford seemed miles away. Time to have some fun!

"Right, bedrooms!" Ellie shouted, sprinting back into the villa, the other girls rushing behind her.

The girls darted through the house, squealing, and bickering good-naturedly over the best rooms. Clara hung back, taking the last one -- a cosy room on the first floor with a small balcony overlooking the garden.

After a quick shower to shake off the travel grime, Clara changed into a light sundress over her bikini and slipped on some sandals. She tied her light brown hair back into a loose ponytail, letting the soft warmth of the air brush her skin as she stood in front of the mirror in her room.

The face that stared back at her through soft hazel-coloured eyes was the almost perfect image of "the cute girl next door" with an oval shaped face, high cheekbones, a small, straight nose, and a warm, approachable smile that matched her personality. At just over 5'7" in bare feet and a very trim 120lbs, she had a naturally curvy body. For a second, she wondered if Roger would be jealous, seeing her like this. They had broken up just before Christmas, Clara having had enough of his needy attitude. Screw him, she thought, smiling at her reflection as she admired her 34-25-36in curves. He's the one missing out now!

She grabbed her bag, checking her contents before making her way downstairs. When she joined the others in the kitchen, they were debating the plan for the afternoon.

"Beach first or quick mooch round town?" Abby asked, leaning comfortable against the counter, a beer already open in front of her. Clara rolled her eyes. It was clear Abby wasn't wasting any time.

"Beach, duh," Ellie replied. "Ain't flown all this way to window shop."

"Why not both?" Clara suggested. "Bit of a wander, scran somewhere nice, then we hit the beach."

The other girls agreed, and soon they were out the door, sunglasses on and ready to explore the island.

*****

The town of Las Palmas was buzzing with energy, tourists and locals mingling in the sunny streets. Clara and her friends wandered through narrow lanes lined with whitewashed buildings, their laughter mingling with the sounds of buskers playing Spanish guitars and the voices in dozens of different languages around them.

"This place is actually peng," Clara said, pausing to snap a photo of a flower-covered archway on her phone.

"And the shops? Absolute danger," Steph added, holding up a pair of oversized, and overpriced, sunglasses she'd just bought. The shopaholic of the group, she couldn't go more than five paces before stopping to look at something new to buy.

Clara found herself relaxing, soaking in the lively atmosphere, a far cry from Guildford. They stopped at a small café for tapas and sangria, the warm breeze carrying the scent of the ocean from Las Canteras Beach.

"Aight," Abby smirked, raising her glass. "To a week of sun, sea, and zero stress!"

The glasses clinked, and Clara smiled as the sweet, fruity drink slid down her throat. A perfect way to start their holiday.

*****

By mid-afternoon, the girls had staked out a spot on the beach at Las Canteras. Towels were spread, sunscreen was slathered on, and the sound of waves provided a soothing backdrop to their lively conversations.

After stripping off her sun dress, Clara lay back on her towel, the sun warming her pale skin. She closed her eyes, listening to the chatter of her friends and the distant laughter of kids playing in the water. Just perfect...

"Oi, ladies!" The accent was unmistakeably English.

Clara opened her eyes to see a group of young men sauntering towards them, bottles of local beer in their hands. They were loud, confident, and very much the type who thrived on banter and attention. Oh, Christ... here we go... she thought with a sigh. That didn't take long at all...

"On hols, yeah?" one of them asked, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked the girls over. Like we're pieces of meat, Clara mused to herself, a touch of disgust creeping in to her thoughts. We only just got here...

"Obviously," Ellie shot back, raising an eyebrow. Always the flirty one, Clara thought. "What gave it away? The towels or the bikinis?"

The boys laughed, clearly enjoying the challenge. Among them was a tall, broad-shouldered Black man with a confident swagger. He had a smooth complexion, neatly trimmed facial hair, and eyes that sparkled with mischief. His gaze lingered on Clara, who sat up and adjusted her sunglasses, suddenly self-conscious of her body and the fact that she was wearing just a bikini. He's looking at me...

"Oi, what's your name, then?" he asked, his voice rich and smooth with more than a touch of cockiness to it.

"Clara," she said, her tone polite but reserved.

"I'm Jayden," he said, lips curling into a cocky grin. "Nice to meet ya, Clara."

"Nice to meet you too," she replied, feeling a little flustered under his gaze.

The group quickly merged, the boys cracking jokes and the girls firing back with equal wit. Clara mostly listened, but she couldn't ignore the way Jayden kept glancing her way, his cocky demeanour having an effect on her that she found disconcerting. She was usually fairly reserved around men, but there was something about Jayden that she found... appealing.

She knew she shouldn't think like that, he was a stranger, some random young man that was trying to chat her and her friends up while they were on holiday. Maybe it was the cocky attitude. Maybe it was because he was Black.

She'd had Black friends growing up, had gone to school with them, she was surrounded by them at university, but none of them had affected her in this way. Perhaps it was being away on holiday, the sangrias, the warm sun, the toned bodies...

Whatever it was, she did her best to ignore it, hoping that the unsettling flutter in the pit of her stomach would go away. Yet every time she glanced at Jayden, every time he grinned back at her, it came back again, just a little stronger.

Finally, as the sun started to dip below the horizon, the girls managed to extract themselves from the boys. More accurately, Clara and the others managed to drag Ellie away from the attentions of the young lads. As she turned to leave, she saw Jayden glance in her direction, his cocky smile causing another flutter in the pit of her stomach.

Calm down, Clara.

As she walked away with her friends, she could feel the young Black man's gaze lingering on her back.

*****

That evening, their first on the island, the girls dressed up and headed into town, keen to have a big night out. Clara opted for a simple black dress and strappy sandals, her hair falling loosely around her shoulders.

The bar they chose was lively but not overcrowded, with music playing and groups of people chatting over drinks. It wasn't long before they bumped into the boys from the beach.

"Fancy seeing you lot here," Jayden said, his grin as confident as ever as his eyes roved over the girls before settling on Clara. She felt a flutter of illicit excitement wash over her. Why is he looking at me like that?

"Tiny island," Ellie replied drawing his attention back to her as she rolled her eyes, but smiling nonetheless, as the boys crowded in. Clara's friends exchanged glances, and one of them -- Steph -- leaned forward with a grin. "So, Jayden, you boys livin' your best lives tonight or what?"

"Beers, music, and fit birds," he said with a grin, his eyes flicking back to Clara. "So far, it's been worth the trip."

Clara rolled her eyes, but she couldn't suppress the smile tugging at her lips. "You're such a prick."

"Only when I know I can back it up," he replied, his tone dropping slightly, making her stomach flutter.

The groups combined again, drinks flowing and conversations growing louder, but Clara couldn't shake the awareness of Jayden beside her. His arm brushed against hers as he reached for his drink, and every time he leaned in to speak, his warm breath sent a shiver down her spine. He was flirty, yes, but there was an arrogance to it, a confidence that bordered on entitlement. It was both infuriating and intoxicating.

Gradually the groups started to split up into pairs for more private conversations and as Clara sipped her third sangria for the night, the fruity sweetness making her head feel light and her limbs pleasantly loose, she found herself sitting at the bar next to Jayden. He leaned casually against the bar beside her, his dark skin glowing under the warm light, his fitted shirt accentuating his broad shoulders. He was effortlessly confident, his presence seemingly commanding attention without him even trying.

"So, Clara," he said, his London accent smooth and deliberate, as if he already knew that she would be going home with him that night. Some chance of that, she told herself determinedly. "What's a bougee girl like you doing in a place like this?"

She raised an eyebrow, trying to match his playful tone. "Bougee? That what you reckon I am?"

He smirked, taking a sip of his pint. "Come on, love. You've got 'middle-class Surrey' written all over ya. Bet ya went to one of those mad private schools where they teach ya how to sip tea all posh like."

Clara laughed despite herself, her cheeks flushing pink. "Guilty as charged. But I'm not as posh as you think."

"Oh, I don't mind a bit of posh," he said, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping. "Just makes it more fun to wind you up."

Her stomach fluttered at his words, and she quickly took a sip of her sangria to hide her reaction. God, why does he have to be so... confident? she thought, her mind racing. She'd had Black friends before, sure, but none of them had ever looked at her like this -- like they could see right through her. It was thrilling and unnerving all at once.

"So," he said after a moment, "what's your story, Clara?"

She laughed. "My story?"

"Yeah. What makes ya?"

She considered the question, her gaze fixed on the rows of drinks behind the bar before turning to look at him. "I don't know. I'm just a girl trying to figure things out, I guess. Studying, working, dreaming of something more. What to do next."

"Relatable," he said, nodding. "What are ya studyin'?"

"Event management," she replied. "It's not as glamourous as it sounds, no big parties, just more like big spreadsheets, but I like it."

"Fair play," he said, his tone seemingly genuine. "Not everyone's built to be on that job."

She smiled. "What about you? What's your story?"

He shrugged. "I'm just a guy who keeps it simple. Work hard, play hard, y' know?"

"And what do you do when you're not partying in Gran Canaria?" she teased.

"Construction... and a few other things?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, do tell?"

Soon Clara had found out that he was twenty-three and from South London originally but had moved around a number of cities in England for different jobs and reasons. He explained that he was currently working a construction job in Maidstone and moonlighted as a personal trainer. The other boys with him were mates of his from school -- apparently it had been a regular thing for all of them to get together to go to Gran Canaria each year.

After a while, Clara began to relax as he explained more about himself. She found his confidence was magnetic, his words deliberate, and his gaze lingered on her in a way that made her pulse quicken. The sangrias had softened her edges, and she found herself leaning into his space, seemingly drawn to his energy. It was clear he was interested in her but seemed content to just chat without putting any moves on her. That suited her just fine, she wasn't here to pick up. At least that was what she told herself. The fact that Jayden was Black created an uncomfortable tingle inside her.

She had been raised to respect all races, all people. But now, with his cocky grin, smooth approach and toned body, the smoulder ember of excitement in the pit of her stomach grew hotter and hotter. I shouldn't feel like this, she thought. She'd never been hit on a Black guy, at least not like this before.

"But enough about me. Tell me something real about ya, girl. Somethin' no one else knows," he said with a cocky grin.

She hesitated, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. Why does he have to be so direct? she thought, her heart pounding. There was something about him -- something raw and powerful -- that both excited and terrified her. The taboo of it all, the way he, a Black guy, looked at her, a White girl, like he wanted to devour her, sent a thrill through her that she couldn't ignore.

"I... I don't know," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not sure I have any deep, dark secrets."

Jayden chuckled, leaning closer. "Everyone's got secrets, love. Even you." His breath brushed against her ear as he spoke, and Clara felt her resolve waver.

"Maybe," she admitted, her voice trembling. "But I'm not sure I'm ready to share them with you."

He pulled back slightly, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. "Fair enough. But don't think I'm giving up that easily."

Clara's heart raced as he held her gaze, his confidence unwavering. Why does this feel so dangerous? she wondered, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Was it because he was Black? Dangerous? Something different to her middle-class world? She was drawn to him in a way she couldn't explain, but the thought of crossing that line -- of letting herself be swept up in something so unfamiliar left her - breathless.

Before she could respond, Jayden straightened up, glancing over his shoulder. "Here, hold that thought," he said, his tone light but his eyes still locked on hers. "I've got to sort something with my mates. Don't go anywhere."

He flashed her a wink before walking off, leaving Clara sitting there, her mind spinning. She watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest. What am I doing? she thought, her fingers tightening around her glass. But deep down, she already knew the answer. She was in over her head--and she wasn't sure she wanted to stop.

He'd been bold, almost too confident, his charm laced with a cocky edge that had both intrigued and unnerved her. She recalled earlier that day, how his dark skin had glistened under the sun, his muscular frame relaxed as he'd leaned back on his elbows on the sand, his eyes never leaving hers. There was something magnetic about him, something that made her pulse quicken even as she had tried to play it cool.

Swallowing nervously, she felt the thumping music vibrating through her body. With a start, she realised that it was her heart beating faster than ever before. As if she'd just run a 100-yard sprint. I need to get out of her, I need some fresh air.

Grabbing her purse, she excused herself, telling her friends she needed some air. Slipping out of the bar and down the crowded streets, she wandered down towards the beach, the cool night breeze refreshing after the heat of the bar. Why do I feel like this, she thought?

Gradually the crowds thinned out as she reached the beach, the throngs of partygoers mainly confining themselves to the bars, restaurants, and clubs. The beach was relatively quiet, with small groups scattered around on the sand, drinking, and talking under the warm, star-lit sky.

She kicked off her sandals, letting the soft sand sink between her toes as she walked toward the water. The moon cast a silvery glow over the beach, and Clara took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. She wasn't used to feeling this way -- this flustered, this drawn to someone. And Jayden... he was unlike anyone she'd ever met. Cocky. Handsome. Black.

"Knew I'd find you out 'ere."

Clara turned, her heart skipping a beat as Jayden approached, his hands in his pockets and that same cocky smirk on his face. "Couldn't handle the noise anymore?" he asked, stopping a few feet away.

"Something like that," she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest. "What about you? Shouldn't you be in there chatting up my mates?"

"They ain't the one I'm interested in," he said with a little shrug. "Besides, reckon I've already charm'd them enough. You, on the other hand..." He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "You're a tough one to crack."

Clara looked away, her cheeks burning. "You don't waste time, do ya?"

"Life's too short for games, love," he replied, stepping closer still. "And I reckon ya ain't the type to play 'em either."

She glanced up at him, her breath catching at the intensity in his eyes. "You don't know me."

"I'd like to," he said softly, his lips curling in a little grin. "If you'd let me."

For a moment, they just stood there, the sound of the waves filling the silence. Then Jayden reached out, his fingers brushing against hers. "Walk with me?"

Clara hesitated, then nodded, letting him take her hand. His touch was warm, his grip firm but gentle as they strolled along the shoreline. They headed away from the groups of people on the beach, towards a more secluded spot.

Eventually, they stopped, sitting down on the sand a few feet from the water. Jayden leaned back on his elbows, his gaze fixed on the horizon, while Clara sat cross-legged beside him, her dress pooling around her. She felt a sense of nervous excitement bubbling away inside her -- she'd never been with a Black guy like this before. Sure, she'd had Black friends, male and female, but never alone with one in such an intimate situation.

Clara pondered this reflection for a second. She wasn't racist, at least she didn't think she was. It was just when she was growing up, she'd never really gravitated to the Black girls, the loud, brash ones. She'd always been more reserved, considered, thoughtful. Her heart was now beating faster as she wondered what her friends would say and think of her being in this situation.

"So, what do ya think of Gran Canaria so far?" the young Black man sitting next to her asked after a long moment of silence. He was certainly surprising her. She'd half expected him to want to make out in the bar or when he'd caught up with her on the beach. Maybe he still did, she thought. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to kiss him...

"It... it's beautiful, I suppose" she said, her eyes looking out over the dark ocean, the endless waves slowly rolling in from the Atlantic Ocean. "I can see why people come back. It's a nice change from home."

"Yeah," he mused, glancing at her. "Although, reckon it's the company that makes it special."

Clara rolled her eyes but couldn't help laughing. Wow, that was so corny, but at the moment, she didn't care as much as she thought she would. Nonetheless, she couldn't resist teasing him. "Bruv, that was tragic. You been rehearsing that one?"

"Maybe," he admitted with a grin. "But still true. I'm glad I met ya."

Clara felt her heart flutter, her inhibitions lowered by the drinks and the romantic setting. "I told you, Jayden; you don't even know me," she said, her tone teasing. I guess he does want to make a move, she mused to herself. You know, one kiss wouldn't be too bad... at least I'll have some stories to tell when I get home.

"Not yet," he said, shifting closer to her on the sand. She could smell his cologne. A musky, masculine fragrance. Oh, God... why does this feel so... 'strange,' she thought? She'd never felt this way with Roger or Liam, her previous boyfriends. Is it because he's Black? He's so different from me? She wondered what her parents would say if they knew their daughter was sitting on a Spanish beach chatting intimately with a Black guy.

Before she could formulate an answer to that question, Jayden reached out, tucking a strand of her flowing brown hair behind her ear. Clara's breath hitched at the intimate gesture, and she swallowed nervously, suddenly aware of how close he was to her, how the moonlight was shimmering gently on the waves, how they were alone on this part of the beach.

"You know? You're so peng, Clara," he said softly, his finger lingering for a moment, tracing the line of her jaw before dropping to the young woman's chin, tilting her pretty face toward his. She'd been hit on many times, in a variety of different ways. Her boyfriends had been tender with her, but for some reason, this time, with Jayden, it felt different.

There was something about him. An underlying passion. Intensity. A hunger. He's not too bad, fit, handsome, she reasoned with herself. But still there was a degree of hesitation -- she'd only just met him. Was this going to be some random holiday hook-up? With a Black guy? She'd come to the island for fun with her friends, did that fun involve meeting someone like Jayden?

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His dark brown eyes locked onto her hazel ones. He was close, only a few inches away and she could see the lines on his face, even in the dim light of the moon. His lips were full, thick, and black. What would it feel like to kiss them?

Clara's breath hitched, her mind racing as she contemplated the consequences of her next decision. She'd never been with a Black man before, not in this sort of intimate way, and the thought sent a thrill through her, mingling with the nervous flutter in her stomach. But there was something about Jayden -- something wild and unspeakable -- that made her want to throw caution to the wind.

"Yes," she whispered. That was all it took, and the pair leaned closer towards each other.

His lips met hers in a soft, tentative kiss that quickly deepened as Clara responded, her hands moving to his shoulders, pulling him closer as his wrapped around her waist. His touch was electric, sensual, exciting, sending sparks through her body as the Black man pulled the White girl closer, his tongue teasing hers. Clara moaned softly, her fingers tangling in his short, curly hair as the kiss grew more urgent. Oh, God... I can't believe we're doing this... I'm really doing this!

Jayden's hands slid down her back, pulling her towards him and lifting her up onto his lap as he kissed her neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire along her pale skin. Clara's breath came in short gasps, her body arching into his, black hands explored her soft curves as she settled onto his lap.

"You're so peng, girl," he murmured against her skin, his voice rough with desire.

Clara's heart pounded as he kissed his way down her neck, his hands sliding under the hem of her dress. She gasped as his fingers brushed against her inner thigh, her body trembling with anticipation.

"Jayden..." she whispered, her voice trembling. She was feeling a warmth in the pit of her stomach as his fingers gently stroked her firm thighs. She heard a sound in the distance, a low keening sound, and it took her a moment to realise that it was her own voice, her own moans.

Oh, God... what are we doing? She hardly knew him, part of her wanted him to stop, but right now, her mind was at war with itself. Lust, passion and desire won out.

He looked up at her, his eyes dark with need. "Just tell me to stop, girl... and I will."

Clara hesitated for a moment, then shook her head, swallowing nervously. "Don't stop."

He chuckled darkly and she could feel his own arousal growing between his legs as he easing the young woman back onto the soft sand. "Knew you wouldn't." His teeth grazed her earlobe. "Gonna taste every inch of this white skin. Make you scream so loud them tourists'll think the tide's comin' in."

Clara's breath hitched as he peeled down the straps on her dress, the night air kissing her exposed breasts. She hadn't worn a bra under her low-cut dress that night. Oh, God... what's he going to do...? "Wait, Jayden... I... I've never --"

"Shhh, girl." He pressed a finger to her lips. "Just let me love ya." His mouth descended lower, lower -- until his thick, black lips closed over her left nipple with a hunger that made her gasp. Clara's breasts were full and pale in the moonlight, their soft curves crowned by taut pink peaks that hardened instantly under his tender attention. Jayden took his time, nuzzling the valley between them first, his stubble grazing her sensitive skin as he breathed her in aroma. "Fuck, you smell like coconut," he muttered, his voice thick with desire and lust for the young White woman. "Like summer."

He lapped at her right breast first, his tongue swirling slow, torturous circles around the nipple before sucking it gently between his teeth. Clara arched off the sand with a whimper, her fingers clawing at his shoulders. "Jayden --!" she cried out.

"Told you I'd make you scream," the young man growled, switching to her left breast with the same deliberate rhythm. Her eyes fluttered at the sensation of his tongue and lips. His free hand cupped the neglected curve, kneading firmly as his thumb flicked over its pink peak in counterpoint to his mouth's relentless teasing. Clara writhed beneath him, her hips bucking involuntarily as heat pooled low in her stomach. Oh, God... I can't believe we're doing this...

The young Black man varied his pace -- soft sucks followed by sharp nips that bordered on pain -- keeping Clara guessing, her breath catching in the back of her throat with every shift of attention. When he finally drew her entire nipple deep into the warm, wet heat of his mouth, humming low in his throat, Clara nearly sobbed. "Oh God, please --"

"Please what?" Jayden pulled back just enough to let her nipple pop free, glistening with his saliva in the moonlight. His thumb replaced his mouth, rubbing rough circles as he smirked up at her, his natural cocky and confident attitude coming to the fore as he saw how easily she'd come apart under his touch. "Use your words, posh girl."

Clara's face burned, her mind fogged with desire. She'd never felt so exposed, so wanted. "Don't stop," she begged, shocking herself with her own desperation. What am I saying? What am I doing? Oh, God... please keep going...

Jayden's grin turned feral. "That's my girl." He descended again, this time taking both breasts in his hands as his mouth trailed lower still -- past her quivering stomach, toward the soaked lace of her panties between her thighs. Clara's back arched as his teeth grazed her hipbone, her thoughts scattering like buckshot from a shotgun. Roger... Roger had never done anything like this...

Jayden leaned down further, kissing the sensitive pale skin of her inner thighs. Each press of his thick, black lips was soft and deliberate, sending shivers of excitement up her spine. Clara felt herself tensing in anticipation as his mouth inched closer to her pussy, her breaths coming faster as the passion between them grew.

As his thick African lips brushed the white lace fabric of her knickers, Clara gasped softly. He kissed her through the thin material, the teasing sensation making her squirm. "You like that?" he murmured, his warm breath against the skin of her most sensitive spot. She glanced down, seeing his nose twitch. Oh, my God... he can smell me, she realised, aware that now she too could smell the musky scent of her arousal but for some reason this didn't embarrass her in the way she expected it to.

"Mm-hm," Clara breathed, her voice trembling, lost in the moment. Please... please keep going... "But... maybe less teasing..." She hesitated, biting her lip. Should I? Shouldn't I? She was aware of the potential consequences of her next decision. "Take them off?"

Jayden grinned, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her knickers and slowly sliding them down her legs. He tossed the fabric aside and leaned back, taking a moment to admire her. The moonlight illuminated her neatly trimmed pubic hair, a soft, dark brown that framed her delicate labia like a carefully tended garden. Her pubic mound was smooth and slightly rounded, leading down to the pink, glistening folds of her labia, which were already slick with her arousal. "You're perfect," he said, his voice thick with sincerity.

Clara couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips, though she still felt a little self-conscious. "Just... be gentle, yeah?" she whispered.

"Of course," Jayden said softly, his hands gently spreading her thighs wider. He placed a kiss just above her pubic mound, his lips warm and soft against the soft patch of hair. Clara shivered as he trailed his kisses lower, his mouth finding the delicate folds of the young woman's labia. His tongue slid between them with an unhurried, flat stroke that sent a spark of pleasure through her body.

Clara let out a soft moan, her fingers clenching into the sand at her sides. "Oh, God... yeah...! That... that's it," she murmured. "Right there, don't stop..."

Jayden continued his movements, his tongue tracing the outer edges of her labia before focusing on the sensitive hood covering her clitoris. He alternated between gentle flicks and more firm, swirling motions, his thick, pink tongue moving in time with the rising rhythm of her breaths as she started the climb towards her climax. Clara arched her back slightly, her body instinctively seeking more of the sensation. Her labia, now fully exposed and glistening with arousal, seemed to pulse with every stroke of his tongue. M... more... please...!

"Try... try circling it slowly," Clara whispered, her voice trembling with arousal and desire, her concerns and anxiety becoming increasingly distant with every maddening perfect flick of the young Black man's tongue. Jayden adjusted, his tongue tracing deliberate circles around her clitoris, the pressure just firm enough to drive her wild. "Yes, just like that," she gasped, her body responding with waves of warmth. The neatly trimmed hair above her pubic mound brushed against his forehead as he worked, adding a faint, tickling sensation that only heightened her pleasure.

As Clara became more comfortable, she began guiding him further. "Lower," she murmured, her voice almost inaudible over the sound of the nearby waves. She couldn't believe she was letting a Black man, an almost stranger, eat her out on the beach. Part of her burned with shame and embarrassment. The other part revelled in such a hedonistic act.

It took her a second to realist that Jayden had shifted slightly, tilting her hips upwards, his tongue dipping to her vaginal entrance, where he licked and teased before returning to her clitoris. Clara moaned, the combination of sensations overwhelming her mind. Her labia, now swollen and sensitive, seemed to throb almost painfully with every flick of his tongue.

Jayden slid a hand up her thigh, his fingers brushing lightly against her entrance. "You okay if I...?" he asked, his voice low and full of care, something she hadn't expected. In the background, she heard the sea hissing incongruously against the shore, the moonlight illuminating the Black man kneeling between her widely spread legs. It felt surreal, like a dream -- I... I've never done anything like this... I don't want him to stop!

"Yes," Clara breathed, her hips tilting slightly in anticipation. "Please..."

He slid one finger inside her, moving slowly and curling it upward to press against her anterior vaginal wall. Clara cried out softly as his finger found her G-spot, the pressure sending a surge of pleasure through her. "Right there... oh my God, don't stop," she gasped, her fingers tangling in his close-cropped hair that was softer than she imagined.

Jayden grinned, maintaining the rhythm of his finger as his tongue returned to her clitoris. He alternated between quick flicks and slow, deliberate circles, his movements precise and intuitive. Clara felt her body tightening, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity. The neatly trimmed hair above her pubic mound seemed to shimmer in the moonlight, a testament to her meticulous care, while her labia, now slick and swollen, pulsed with every stroke of his tongue.

"Faster," she whispered, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. Jayden obliged, increasing the pace of his tongue while adding a second finger, the added stretch making her moan louder. His fingers moved in a gentle come-hither motion against her G-spot, perfectly complementing the stimulation on her clitoris.

Clara's thoughts became incoherent as the sensations overwhelmed her, as his tongue lashed her clitoris with remarkable precision. "Jayden... I'm so close... oh, God, I'm so close," she cried, her hands gripping his shoulders for support.

"Oh God -- Jayden!" Her hips jerked, but his hands pinned her hips to the sand. "Stay still," he growled, the vibration against her vulva making her whimper in delicious excitement.

Too much. Too skilled. She'd never felt like this. Her previous boyfriends had treated oral sex like a chore, but Jayden devoured her, his stubble scraping her inner thighs as he alternated between sucking her labia and flicking her clitoris. The stars blurred overhead, her orgasm coiling tighter --

"J... Jayden... uhhh..." she groaned loudly, wantonly. She was on the edge of something wonderful, something none of her other boyfriends had ever given her. Her voice started to break, the words coming out in a garbled mess of sounds, her eyes clenched tightly shut, her fingers digging into Jayden's shoulders.

Sensing she was about to come, Jayden didn't let up, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to push her over the edge. With one final, firm flick of his tongue against her clitoris and the steady pressure of his fingers on her G-spot, Clara's body tensed.

Release.

A powerful wave of pleasure crashed over her, her orgasm detonating with an intensity she had never experienced before.

She let out a loud, breathless moan, her body shaking as the sensations rippled through her. Her thighs trembled, and her back arched off the sand as she clung to Jayden, her mind lost in the overwhelming pleasure. Her labia, now slick and glistening, seemed to pulse with the aftershocks of her climax, while the neatly trimmed brown hair above her pubic mound glistened faintly with a sheen of sweat, saliva, and her own juices.

The young Black man held her through it, the motion of his tongue gentling to soft licks as she continued to shudder, his hands steadying her as she floated, boneless, the soft crash of waves nearby starting to synchronise with her slowing pulse. Oh, my God. He... He's different. Better.

The thought drifted lazily in Clara's mind, her limbs still heavy as she lay on her back in the sand, her chest rising and falling rapidly as the waves of her climax slowly subsided. Her mind was a foggy haze, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. When she finally opened her hazel eyes, Jayden hovered above her, his dark skin glistening under the moonlight, a satisfied smirk playing on his thick, black lips that still glistened with the juices of her arousal.

"You a'right, princess?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. "Look like you've just seen God."

Clara laughed weakly, covering her flushed face with her hands. "I... I can't believe... I... I just let you... with the whole beach... right there..." Her voice was breathless, her words barely coherent, her thoughts still scattered.

Jayden chuckled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, cleaning away the residue of their love making. A thought shot through her. Oh, God! How wet did I get? "Let me? You were beggin' for it by the end, love. Don't act shy now."

She peeked through her fingers, her smile fading slightly as her thoughts began to clear. "It's not that. It's just... you're the first Black guy I've ever... you know."

Jayden stilled, his playful expression softening. "Ah. That's what's got ya twitchy." He shifted closer, his knee brushing her thigh as he leaned over her. "Thought there was somethin' holdin' ya back earlier. That it?"

Clara nodded, her hands dropping to her sides as she stared up at him. "I've had Black friends before, but this... it's different. People stare. What if someone saw us? Or worse, took a photo?"

"So, what if they did?" Jayden shrugged, his tone casual but his eyes intense. "Ya think I give a fuck what some randoms think?"

"I care," she said quietly, her voice trembling. "My parents... they're not racist, but they'd have a thousand questions. And my brother --"

"Oi." Jayden cut her off, his hand cupping her cheek. "Fuck that. This ain't about them. You and me? We're just two people. Colour's got nothin' to do with how good that felt, yeah?"

Clara swallowed, her eyes darting to his full lips, still glistening from her arousal. "But what if... what if I say the wrong thing? Or don't know what you like? I don't want to mess this up."

Jayden barked a laugh, the sound warm and disarming. "You're overthinkin,' Clara. Ain't no secret manual for Black blokes. Just treat me like ya treat anyone else." He leaned closer, his voice dropping. "Unless you're into stereotypes. You wanna call me 'Daddy'? I won't fuckin' stop ya," he whispered with a grin.

She swatted his arm, laughing despite herself. "You're impossible."

Clara knew she should move. Should tug her dress back down, rejoin her friends, be sensible. But the warmth of his body beside her, the memory of the rasp of his stubble on her inner thigh, her climax -- it anchored her to the sand, holding her in place. She didn't want to leave, not yet.

"Yeah, girl... but you like it," he said, catching her wrist and pressing a kiss to her palm. "Look -- if ya not ready, say the word. But don't let some posh white guilt ruin this. I'm here 'cause I fancy ya, not ya pedigree."

Clara hesitated, her mind still foggy from the intensity of her orgasm. Before she could respond, Jayden shifted, rising up on his knees, his hands sliding over her thighs to spread them wider apart as he positioned himself between her legs. "Jayden, wait --" she started, her voice breathless and uncertain. She still felt the low, burning sensation of arousal smouldering inside her. But was this going to far? Too fast?

But he didn't stop. His movements were deliberate, his confidence unshakable as he unbuckled his belt and pushed down his jeans. She blinked dazedly as he knelt between her thighs, gazing down at her, his black skin gleaming like polished mahogany against her the pallor of her legs. His erection jutted proudly, thick, and dusky, the foreskin pulled taut to expose his bulbous purplish-brown head. Oh, God... she thought. Wait... not yet...

Clara's eyes widened, her body still too dazed to react as he leaned over her, his thick, hard length nudging against her entrance, still slick from her climax. "Wait --" Her voice slurred, her post-orgasm haze still dulling her reflexes and mind.

"Relax, love," he murmured, his voice a low, rough rumble. "Just a taste. Ya gonna love this," he murmured again, rocking his hips forward.

Before she could protest or push him away, he slid into her, his size stretching her in a way that made her gasp. Clara's hands flew to his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to process what was happening. "Jayden, I --"

"Shh, girl," he whispered, his thick, black lips brushing her ear. "Just feel it, yeah."

Clara gasped, her vaginal walls fluttering around the intrusion. Too big. Too soon. But Jayden cradled her face, his thumb brushing her cheek and their eyes locked -- her hazel irises wide in shocked surprise, his brown ones steady. He pushed deeper, his girth spreading her open in a slow, inexorable glide.

"Fucking Christ, ya tight," he hissed, sweat dripping onto her chest. "Just relax," he groaned, trying to push more of his cock into her.

She couldn't. Her vaginal walls still clenched, unprepared for his size, but he groaned like she was torturing him. "Fuck, Clara... so tight."

The pain sharpened even further with the next thrust, then blurred as he withdrew slightly, then sank deeper, seating himself fully inside her. Clara's nails dug into his biceps, her pale fingers stark in the moonlight against his dark skin. Black. Inside me. Bare. Oh, God... he's bare inside me! The reality should've terrified her, but instead her body thrummed with traitorous hunger for the cock that was turning her world upside down.

"That's it," he gritted out, hips rolling in a shallow grind. "Take it all."

Clara's nails dug into his shoulders, her breath ragged and shallow. Too much. Too fast. But her body betrayed her, hips lifting to meet his. The stretch burned, but beneath it -- oh, God -- a fullness that bordered on divine.

"Look at ya," Jayden muttered, as he raised himself up, his right hand moving between them, his thumb finding her clitoris with discomforting precision. "Proper little virgin."

"I'm not --" her words dissolving into a soft groan of pleasure as he brushed her sensitive nub with the pad of his thumb.

He laughed, dark and knowing as he watched her writhe on the sand beneath him. "Fuck, could've fooled me."

"Please... move," she pleaded in a low whimper, hating herself more than anything else in the world at that moment as she uttered the words, the sensation of his cock in her pussy and his thumb on her clit unlike anything she'd ever experienced.

Jayden began to move, his hips rocking against hers with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Clara's breath exploded from her lips as he gave a deeper thrust, her body responding instinctively despite her lingering hesitation and fears. The sensation was overwhelming, her mind still reeling from her earlier climax as Jayden's thrusts grew deeper, more urgent, his thumb rubbing her in time to his thrusts.

As he continued, he shifted position between her legs, each thrust angling to drag his shaft along her anterior wall, the sensations overwhelming her. Clara's moans now tangled with the crash of waves. He's... he's there. A spot Roger had only ever grazed by accident, Jayden now hammered with precision.

"Knew ya'd like that," he said, reading her whimpers. "Bet no one's touched you proper, have they?"

She shook her head, ashamed. Why does that matter? But it did. His thumb continued to circle her clitoris, his pace unrelenting, and the shame melted into liquid heat.

"Fuck -- Jayden --"

"Yeah, fuck... that's it," he growled, his hands both moving now to grip her hips to provide better leverage. "You're takin' me so well, princess."

Clara's thoughts scattered, her body arching into his as her next orgasm began to build again. She wanted to protest, to tell him to stop, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she clung to him, her moans mingling with the sound of the waves as Jayden claimed her body, mind, and soul completely.

"Yeah, you like that, don't ya?" Jayden whispered, his eyes fixed on her, taking in the rapturous expression on her pretty face. He gave her another hard, deep thrust, causing her to whimper in delight. "Harder... deeper..." Clara moaned, the words slipping out before she could stop them before she could control her traitorous body. W... what am I saying?

Jayden obeyed, his thrusts becoming increasing deep and rhythmic. The stretch burned, but her arousal resurged in a powerful, overwhelming wave -- a filthy, primal need to take him. For him to claim her as his own. For her to be fucked. Her white legs hooked around his waist, heels bumping the dimpled scars on his lower back.

"That's it," he growled, his accent roughening, seeing her reaction, his own passion taking control of him. "Take all this Black cock. That's what ya want, innit?"

Racial. Obscene. Arousing. Her cheeks flamed at his words, but her hips lifted greedily, overcome by the taboo thoughts. She was being fucked on a beach by a Black guy she'd just met. This wasn't her -- it was dirty, slutty, shameful. This is me... she realised with a start as his pelvis ground against her clitoris with every thrust, the dual stimulation erasing reason.

"Harder --"

Jayden laughed, low and dark, being turned on by her reaction. "Yeah, that's it, girl. Knew ya'd be a natural for this cock."

He obliged her request, his pace turning punishing, his cock thrusting hard and deep into her tight sheath, the sensations of pleasure and pain fighting for dominance inside her. Clara's breasts jostled against his chest, pink nipples chafing his dark skin. As she glanced down at their bodies in the dim moonlight, the contrast mesmerised her -- milk and coffee, tangled on the sand. Oh, fuck... what am I doing?

"Look at us," he demanded, gripping her jaw, tilting her head further down to look at them.

She did. Their joined bodies glistened under the moon -- his Black hips slapping hard against her pale thighs, her freckled stomach clenching with each powerful drive of his pelvis. He's marking me. Owning me. The thought should've revolted her. Instead, her orgasm crested, raw and violent. Oh, shit... I... I'm going to come...!

"Jayden -- I... I'm coming!" she croaked, her mind shutting down as the wave of ecstasy overwhelmed her, no longer caring about where they were or what was happening to her. Just the feeling of his black cock churning up her insides.

"Yeah, you are," the young Black man snarled, his thrusts growing even more intense and powerful as he drove her over the edge, "On my fuckin' black cock."

Clara's climax tore through her, raw and violent. Her vaginal muscles clamped down on him, her screams echoed off the nearby dunes, her vaginal muscles milking him frantically. Jayden cursed, his thrusts stuttering as she felt him pulse, the spill inside her -- hot, deep, insistent -- his seed flooding her cervix, his Black body claiming her White one.

They collapsed, sticky and spent into the rough sand, his black cock slipping from her pussy, replaced by an overwhelming feeling of emptiness that almost made Clara beg for him to put it back in. Her body felt raw, every nerve alight with the aftershocks of pleasure. Between her thighs, her vulva throbbed--swollen, sensitive, and slick with a mix of her arousal and Jayden's semen.

Her labia felt tender, stretched from his girth, the delicate pink folds glistening under the moonlight. Her pubic mound, dusted with soft brown curls, was damp with sweat, the skin flushed and warm. Inside, her vaginal walls still fluttered weakly, still clenching at the memory of the sensation of his cock. The stretch lingered, a dull ache that bordered on delicious pleasure, her cervix battered and tender from the relentless impact of his thrusts.

She stared wide-eyed at the stars, his warm, thick semen starting to seep down from her slit. He's so... big. The thought flitted briefly through her mind, half-dazed. Her hand drifted to her abdomen, fingers pressing lightly above her pubic bone. She could almost feel his semen inside her -- warm, thick, pooling at the entrance to her uterus. Unprotected. Bare. Inside me. The realisation smacked her in the face, the reality of what she had done as cold as the nearby ocean. Oh, fuck! What have I done?

A shiver of something darker, primal, coursed through her.

Black seed in a white womb.

The phrase slithered into her mind, unbidden and unwanted, and her cheeks burned with shame. She'd read whispers of this online -- BBC fantasies, giggled over in university bathrooms -- but the reality was raw, human, and undeniably intense. Jayden wasn't a porn cliché. He was here, his breath hot on her neck, his heavy body lying next to hers.

This was real and now something she had to deal with.

Jayden nuzzled her neck, his lips brushing her soft, pale skin. "Ya, aright?"

No. Oh, God, no. Her mind raced -- cycle tracking, morning-after pill, the judgemental stare of a chemist -- but her body still hummed with sated lethargy. That had been an incredible orgasm, perhaps even her best, her most enjoyable one ever. The fact that it was with a Black guy, a stranger, on a beach, wasn't lost on her.

"Yeah," she lied, not willing to look into his eyes.

He rolled onto his back, pulling her against his chest. Her cheek pressed to his sternum, feeling his heart beating under his shirt. He smells like salt and sweat and... me.

"Never done that before," he said quietly after a moment.

Clara stiffened. "What, fuck a white girl bare?"

Jayden chest rumbled with laughter under her cheek. "Shit. Trust a White bird to make it about race."

She propped herself on an elbow, frowning. "Then what?"

Jayden traced her hip, his dark fingers leaving faint pink streaks on her pale skin. "Let someone in like that. No games. Just... ya know... connecting..."

Guilt prickled Clara's mind. He thinks this meant something, she realised. Did it? What was this? A holiday fuck with some random lad? He was undeniably handsome and fit, but she'd just let him fuck her without any protection at all on the beach. How fucking stupid could I have been? Despite her protestations, she couldn't deny the taboo hunger she'd felt for him, ever since she met him on the beach that afternoon -- for his difference, his otherness. Now she had to deal with the consequences of this.

The waves filled the silence. Jayden's hand slid lower, cupping her firm, rounded buttock. "Round two?"

Clara hesitated. She could still feel his semen cooling on her inner thigh, proof of her recklessness. Stupid. Dangerous. Crazy.

No, her mind screamed at her. Get up. Leave.

But when his thumb brushed her clitoris, and her traitorous hips rocked again.

"Just once more," she whispered.

*****

Clara's knees sank into the cool sand of the beach, her palms still gritty with the coarse grains from their encounter only a few moments earlier. Moonlight and moisture turned Jayden's Black cock a dark silver as she took him deeper into her mouth, the tang of her own juices and his seed sharp and tart on her tongue as she coaxed him back to hardness. His dark fingers twisted in her brown hair, urging her deeper. Filthy. Reckless. Arousing. The self-loathing flickered, but her tongue swirled greedily around his shaft, her lips tightening as he groaned.

"That's it," Jayden rasped, his hips jerking forward, feeding more of his cock into her mouth. "Suck it proper."

She obeyed, hollowing her cheeks until he hardened fully, his girth stretching her jaw. When he tugged her upright, she didn't resist. Sand clung to her thighs as he positioned her on all fours, his black hands gripping her pale hips. The night air chilled her exposed vulva, still swollen from their earlier encounter as her arse trembled in the air. Her dress was still bunched up around her waist, her knickers lying discarded somewhere in the sand nearby. She felt slutty. Debased. Alive!

"Look at ya," he muttered, his cockhead dragging through her slick folds. "Beggin' for it bare again."

I shouldn't. Her mind clawed for reason and response -- chemist, morning-after pill, risk -- but his tip nudged her entrance, and her body arched instinctively. Too late now anyway. She'd already taken a load deep inside her, one more wouldn't hurt. I... I'll deal with it tomorrow. The thought disappeared in a haze of pleasure and pain as her labia parted to accept his prodigious cock again.

Jayden pushed in slowly, the stretch familiar yet still staggering to Clara. She whimpered, her vaginal walls still tender from earlier.

"Tighter than before," Jayden grunted from behind her, his voice strained. "Fuckin' unreal."

He withdrew, teasing her with the tip, before sinking deeper. Her moan caught in the back of throat as the young Black man seated himself fully inside, her vaginal walls quivering around him. "Fuck," Jayden hissed, his thumbs spreading her buttocks. "Like a glove."

In. Out. Each thrust eliciting a whimper of pleasure from the young White girl.

His rhythm was measured at first, each thrust grinding against her. The deep stimulation blurred her thoughts -- risk, race, recklessness -- into a mess of static. Her elbows buckled, breasts brushing the sand as he angled deeper, his cockhead battering her cervix. Oh, fuck!

"There --" she choked out, her clitoris throbbing in time with her pulse.

"D'you feel that?" he demanded, his voice raw as his hips snapped forward again, tearing another mewling sound from her lips. "D'you feel me?"

She couldn't speak. Couldn't think. Her nod was a frantic jerk of her head, her moans swallowed by the surf. Jayden chuckled darkly, his pace quickening.

"Knew you'd cave," he said, slapping her arse with his left hand. The sting bloomed hot and pink on her pale skin, merging with the ache between her legs. "Knew you'd want it raw."

Liar. She knew she could have gotten up at any time, but she'd chosen this -- chosen the burn of his size, the thrill of his black skin against her pale complexion. Instinctively, her hand slid beneath her belly, fingers circling her clitoris in time with his thrusts. Clara whimpered in delight, her climax thundering towards her.

Jayden slapped her arse again, the crack echoing off the rocks. "Louder."

She obeyed, her moans pitching higher as his pace quickened. Sand gritted against her palms, her knees raw, but the discomfort faded beneath the slap of skin on skin. Black hands on white hips. Black cock in white cunt. The vulgarity of her thoughts should've repulsed her. Instead, her inner muscles clenched, milking him greedily, as her fingers rubbed faster on her clit.

"Greedy slut," Jayden growled, hips snapping harder. Deeper. Faster.

The insult ignited her. Her orgasm crashed without warning, her vaginal muscles clenching rhythmically around him. Jayden cursed, his thrusts turning erratic, his hips slamming into her.

"Gonna fill ya again," he warned, his London accent thickening, as he crested his own climax. "Gonna mark this pale cunt proper --" Clara was too far gone by this point to care about his words, so lost in her own wave of pleasure to react the young Black man inside her.

Distantly she heard Jayden curse, a loud "Fuck! I'm cumming!" his powerful fingers digging painful bruises into her hips before he spilled inside her -- again -- his semen flooding her already Black-claimed cervix in hot, insistent spurts.

They collapsed sideways onto the sand, black and white limbs tangled together. Clara stared at the stars, his spend seeping down her thighs. Twice. Unprotected. The reality should've terrified her. Instead, her hand drifted to her abdomen, a traitorous thought whispering: What if...?

Jayden pressed a kiss to her shoulder, his voice smug. "Told ya you'd get addicted."

To both her surprise and shame, she didn't argue.

*****

It was just after 2am when Clara pushed the door to the villa open. The quiet hum of the fridge and the faint sound of waves crashing in the distance were the only noises that greeted her. The air inside felt cooler than the sticky heat of the Gran Canaria night she'd just left behind. Although it wasn't just the stickiness of the air that she felt. There was another stickiness between her legs, a reminder of what had just occurred.

She closed the door silently behind her and tiptoed barefoot across the tiled floor before making her way upstairs to her room, wincing when a floorboard creaked. Her head throbbed faintly from the alcohol, her body heavy and sluggish with exhaustion from the intense, and illicit, session of sex with Jayden on the beach.

Please don't wake up... She couldn't bear to face any of her friends. Not in this state. She was always the level-headed one, the reserved one. What she had done tonight had been far from that. She knew would face their stares, their jokes, their comments, in the morning. Right now, all she wanted to do was go to bed.

Her stomach twisted in nervous fear and anxiety as she finally reached her room. She closed the door quietly behind her, leaning against it for a moment before exhaling sharply. Memories of the night flooded back -- Jayden's hands on her, the intensity of their connection, the feeling of his cock inside her, and then the sharp pang of regret that followed. Twice. The sticky sensation between her thighs made her skin crawl.

How could I be so stupid? she thought, peeling her dress off and letting it drop to the floor. She crossed the room to the en-suite bathroom, turning the tap to fill the sink with lukewarm water. Her reflection in the mirror stared back, pale cheeks flushed, brown hair tangled and matted with sand, and hazel eyes shadowed with worry and fear.

She grabbed a flannel, wetting it, and began to clean herself, her hand trembling as she wiped away the evidence of the night. Jayden's sperm had dried on her thighs, and her heart sank further with every stroke of the cloth, trying to clean herself the best she could.

"What the hell were you thinking, Clara?" she whispered to herself. "No birth control... not even a condom. God, you're such an idiot. Fuck!"

The thought of falling pregnant sent a wave of nausea through her. But what terrified her more was the image of a baby -- a child whose dark skin would instantly reveal the truth about what had happened on her holiday. Her parents, her friends, everyone back home would know. The idea made her chest tighten. It wasn't just the fear of judgement but the realisation that her hesitation last night had been rooted in something deeper, something uglier.

Was I hesitant because he's Black? The question clung to her as she washed, scrubbing her skin harder as though it could erase the shame.