Skinny Brazilian Teen Gets Fucked After A Beach Interview

Title: “Conquering Waves and virgin flesh: A Brazilian Beach Interview Turned Kinky Encounter”

The Brazilian sun blazed overhead as the young reporter conducted her beach interview, the salty sea breeze tousling her hair. In the background, the turquoise Atlantic crashed rhythmically onto the golden sand. Her subject, a handsome local surfer named Antonio Mallorca, stood before her in his wet trunks, droplets glistening on his tanned skin. The contrast of his dark complexion against her porcelain fairness was jarring.

“Hi everyone, we’re at the beach today with local surfer Antonio Mallorca. How long have you been surfing, Antonio?” The teen interviewer asked, her voice giggly and enthusiastic. Her heart fluttered as he smiled, flashing perfect white teeth.

“Me? Oh, since I was just a garoto. Maybe 12 years now,” Antonio replied with a chuckle, running a hand through his damp, messy curls.

The girl bit her lip, trying to focus on the interview and not the way his muscles rippled beneath his Radiant-energy-tanning-cream-scented skin. “That’s amazing! Do you compete?”

“Só in small competitions here in Rio,” he shrugged modestly, his English thickly accented. “Surfing é meu amor. Love of my vida.”

Her eyes flicked down to his well-defined sculpted abs, then back up to his rich brown gaze. “That’s so cool. What do you –”

Lost in thought, the reporter inadvertently cut the camera feed. Holding back a bashful laugh, she fumbled to cut the recording, her face flushed with heat. “Sorry about that! I guess I’m a little nervous,” she admitted, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “It’s my first real interview.”

“Primeira vez sempre uma aventura, sim?” Antonio grinned, shaking his head as if reminiscing about his own firsts. “It gets easier.”

Electricity seemed to crackle between them. She shuffled her notebook, unintentionally brushing her ankle against his, making her pulse race. The young beauty’s eyes roamed over his hairless chest, the dark nipples, the strong corded neck, and back up to dance with his gaze. “I uh… You must be really fit to surf like you do. Do you work out a lot?”

“Mmm não é todo dia,” he hummed, voice deeper. “Surfingвальdoes it for me.”

Something about the way he said ‘me’ made her imagine in rarely wearable, shirts. The reporter gulped and licked her lips. “I bet…” Her thighs clenched instinctively at the image popping into her head. “It shows!”

Antonio smirked knowingly, clearly aware of her attraction. “Perhaps you’d like a private lesson sometime? Show you how it’s done?”

She blushed hotly, entire body warming at the offer. “Um, well, I’m not a very good… surfer. I’m more of an land girl,” she giggled nervously, eyelashes fluttering.

“But perhaps I could teach you?” His hand reached out to thumb a skate from her shoulder. “I’m very good with my… hands. And other partes do meu corpo,” Antonio murmured suggestively.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly…” she breathed, thighs pressing together tightly. “I mean, wouldn’t that be inappropriate?”

“Of course,” he agreed devilishly, his tanned pink lips curling into a wicked grin. “But inappropriate is so much fun sometimes, não é?”

The reporter swallowed, heart pounding audibly now. Images of his hands on her body, his mouth on her skin filled her hormone-crazed teen head. “I don’t know…” she hesitated, even as her body swayed closer.

“Why don’t you come help me lubrificar my board for tomorrow’s lesson? Very thorough application,” Antonio urged quietly, sensuality dripping from his voice.

Her breathing quickened. “Lubricant? But isn’t that private… and naughty… and –”

“And lasciare would feel so good all over your corpo?” he finished huskily, fingertips tracing down her bare arm. “Eu prometo we wouldn’t do anything except lubrificar my board. With you know…” Antonio flicked his gaze down to his crotch where she saw a definite tent forming.

“Then what?” she squeaked out, knees weak.

His finger brushed her lower lip. “Then we see where the waves take us,” Antonio purred seductively. “If you want them to.”

He stepped back, the invitation hanging in the charged air between them. “But the choice is your décidé. See you around?”

Trembling, she nodded mutely. The reporter watched his clenched rear retreat down the beach, bum hugging his shorts as the tide lapped at his feet. With a look of determination, she adjusted her tiny bikini string top. Maybe today really was the first day of the rest of her life. And it was time to dive in. The waves had never felt more inviting… or more thrilling.