The moment we stepped off the plane, Rio hit me like a wall of heat—thick, wet air that clung to my skin and made my sundress stick to my booty. Six months since our wild week in Lourmarin, and Celeste had convinced me that Brazil during Carnival was exactly what we needed.

"Jesus Christ, it's hot," I said, adjusting my backpack while we waited for our luggage. The airport buzzed with an unmistakable electricity in the air that promised trouble.

Celeste grinned at me, her hair now longer already curling in the humidity. "That's the point, baby. Hot country, hot women, hot sex." She whispered. "I want to fuck you while you're all sweaty.”

My pussy pulsed. That was Celeste—always saying filthy shit in public, always making me wet when I couldn't do a damn thing about it.

"You're the worst," I muttered, smiling. Two years together, and she still knew exactly how to get me aroused.

The taxi ride to our beachfront hotel near Copacabana was a blur of color and noise—music pouring from open windows, people dancing on street corners, the air thick with anticipation for Carnival. Our driver kept looking back at us in the rearview mirror, especially when Celeste's hand slid up my leg, disappearing under my dress.

"He's watching," I whispered, not moving her hand.

"Let him," she said. "Maybe he'll learn something."

By the time we reached the hotel, my pussy had come twice. The lobby was all polished marble and tropical flowers, but I barely noticed. All I could think about was eating Celeste’s pussy once we were inside.

Our room faced the ocean, twenty floors up with floor-to-ceiling windows and a balcony that caught the sea breeze. Celeste tipped the bellhop, then locked the door behind him.

“Take those clothes off,” she ordered, already pulling her tank top over her head. "I've been thinking about those sexy Hershey Kisses since we got off the plane.”

I didn't need to be told twice. My clothing hit the floor. My nipples were hard and eager.

“Look at you, gorgeous," she said. Typical Celeste. Her pussy was slimy wet, her pink lips glistening for me to suck.

We raced to each other like we were starving. Her tongue was in my mouth while she grabbed my booty. I backed her toward the bed, both of us stumbling.

“I need something to eat right now,” I said, pushing her down onto the mattress.

Celeste opened her legs, shameless as always. “Eat my pussy like you always do, baby.”

I dropped to my knees, dragging her to the edge. I didn't tease. Didn't start slow. Just buried my face in her and licked.

"Fuck yes!” she moaned out, her hands grabbed my head. "Yes, baby, eat my pussy."

I sucked her clit, my tongue wagging against it while she writhed beneath me. The taste made me moan. I put my fingers inside, finding her G-spot that made her shake.

"Right there," she gasped, grinding against me. "Don't stop, don't fucking stop."

I had no intention of stopping.

“Oh fuck!”

When Celeste came, she nearly yelled so loud that the vase on the nightstand almost fell.

Before I could even enjoy it fully, Celeste was pulling me up, flipping me over. "My turn," she said.

She pushed me onto my back and got between my legs, her hair falling around her face. "Look at this sweet pussy,” she said, running her fingers through my lips. “Already creaming for me."

The first touch of Celeste’s tongue made me buck. She laughed, the vibration making me wild. Then she got serious, eating my pussy like it was her last meal—sucking, licking, her fingers inside me until I was clutching the sheets, cursing and begging.

“Fuck, oh shit, oh Lord! Oh, oooh, yes, Celeste!”

"Come for me," she demanded, looking up at me with those lustful eyes. "I want to feel you come all in my mouth.”

And I did—hard and loud. But Celeste didn't let up, drawing out my cum until I had to push her away.

The sound of waves and distant music floated through the balcony doors. Rio spread out below us, a playground waiting to be explored.

"That was just the warm-up," Celeste said, caressing me. "Wait till you see what I have planned for tonight."

We hit the streets around ten, dressed to kill and ready to hunt. Celeste wore a purple latex body suit so tight it barely covered her sexy ass. I'd gone for yellow that hugged every curve of my body, cut precisely for a black girl. We both wore sneakers we could dance in—and run in, if necessary.

Music pounded from every direction as we followed the crowds toward a street party in Lapa. Everyone was dancing, drinking, riding that edge between celebration and something darker, more primal.

"See anything you like?" Celeste shouted over the music, her eyes looking over the crowd.

I followed her, impressed by the sea of beautiful women—Brazilian girls with curves that defied gravity, tourists from every corner of the world, all of them sweaty and half-dressed and moving to the beat.

"I like everyone," I admitted, pulling Celeste close to dance.

Her sexy white ass was grinding against my pussy, and my hands were on her hips. I knew she wasn't wearing anything underneath. The thought made me bold. I slid my hand down her stomach, between her legs.

“You mean here,” she said, putting my hand over her cunt.

“Oh, Celeste. You’re going to get us arrested?” I whispered.

"No one's watching. Everyone's too busy having fun."

That was a lie. A group of women nearby were watching. Celeste saw them too and smiled, putting on a show as my hand rubbed on top of her cunt in her tight outfit.

"Fuck, I just wanna have fun, babe,” she said. "Let's give everyone something to remember."

We went away from the main crowd, into a shadowy alley just off the street party. Here we had space, privacy—sort of. The women followed, keeping their distance but clearly watching.

I pushed Celeste against the wall and lowered her shorts. The sight of her wet pussy made my mouth water. I dropped to my knees, not caring about the dirty ground, and buried my head in it.

"Oh god," she moaned, one leg hooking over my shoulder. "Yes, baby, eat me right here."

I devoured her, aware of our audience but focused entirely on making her come. Her hips were moving against my face and I knew she was near.

“Ooooh, I’m⁠—”

That was the cue.

Before I could get up, I felt hands on my shoulders—not Celeste's. I turned to find one of the women who'd been watching us, a tall Brazilian with skin the color of honey.

"My turn?" she asked in accented English, her eyes locked with mine.

Celeste laughed, still breathless. “Have some of her,” she said.

The woman spun me around so my back was against the wall. Her friends watched from a few feet away, whispering and giggling. She kissed me, tasting Celeste on my lips, then pulled down my shorts.

"No panties?" she said. “I like that, mamãe.”

Her finger went inside my pussy with ease as her thumb rubbed my clit. I gasped, spreading wider. Celeste came behind her, reaching around to fondle the woman's clothed breasts.

"What's your name?" Celeste murmured.

"Ana," the woman replied, never stopping fingering me.

“Oh fuck!” I moaned.

"Well, Ana," Celeste said, "how about we take this back to our place? There's a lot more we could do with a bed and some privacy."

Ana looked at her friends, then back at us. "Maybe another night," she said, fingering me faster. "Tonight, I just want to make your girlfriend come inside this alley."

“Ooooooh!” I gasped, feeling those words.

And she did—I came hard, biting down on her shoulder to keep from screaming.

Afterward, she kissed me, then disappeared back into the crowd with her friends, leaving Celeste and me breathless and laughing.

"Well," Celeste said, straightening herself, "I'd say that's a pretty good start to our vacation, wouldn't you?"

I nodded, still dazed. If this was just the first night, I couldn't imagine what the rest of our time in Rio would bring.

But I was damn sure ready to find out.

Morning hit Rio like a lover—hot, insistent, and impossible to ignore. Sunlight streamed through the curtains we'd forgotten to close, painting stripes across Celeste's nakedness. I watched her sleep for a moment, admiring the comparison of the white sheets against her skin.

My head was hurting slightly from last night's cachaça, but the memories were crystal clear—the street party, the alley, the Brazilian woman with the wicked smile, Ana. I wondered if we'd see her again, then decided it didn't matter. Rio was full of beautiful women waiting to be tasted.

I slipped out of bed and to the bathroom, catching sight of myself in the mirror—hair wild, lips dry, and a hickey blooming on my neck. I looked exactly like what I was: thoroughly fucked and ready for more.

The shower felt like heaven, hot water sluicing over my skin. I was so lost in the sensation that I didn't hear Celeste until the shower door opened and she stepped in behind me.

"Started without me?" she murmured, pressing her tits against my back and holding my breasts.

"Just getting clean so you can make me dirty again," I replied, leaning back.

Her hands went lower, between my legs from behind. "Always so wet, girl,” she said as her hand parted my pussy lips.

I braced my hands against the wall as she started taking me.

"Fuck, Celeste," I gasped as she increased the rubbing of my clit.

"That's it, baby," she whispered. “Start the day right."

I came with a shout, and Celeste spun me around, dropped to her knees, and started eating me out.

"Again," she demanded.

“Ooooooh, Celeste!”

The second orgasm hit me harder than the first, my legs nearly giving out as Celeste held me in place with her mouth on my cunt.

“Are you ready for breakfast?” she asked innocently.

I laughed, "Breakfast. Then—Copacabana.”

Copacabana Beach stretched before us like a playground for the beautiful women in thong bikinis, men with bodies sculpted from bronze; everyone shining under the relentless sun.

We found a spot not far from the water, spreading our towels on the hot sand. I wore a black bikini that barely contained my tits, while Celeste had opted for a white one that turned nearly transparent when wet. We'd both packed with exactly this kind of day in mind.

"Jesus," Celeste muttered, slipping on her sunglasses as she looked out at the beach. "It's like they genetically engineered this entire country for sex."

I couldn't disagree. Everywhere I looked, everybody moved with a kind of fluid confidence that was hypnotic—playing volleyball, dancing to Bluetooth speakers, wading into the turquoise water.

"Oil me up?" I asked, handing Celeste the suntan lotion and lying on my stomach.

"You're going to burn if we're not careful," she said, her hands spreading the oil across my shoulders, down my back. "All this beautiful brown skin turning red would be a tragedy."

Celeste was working the lotion into my skin with slow, deliberate rubs, then she dipped just beneath the waistband of my bikini bottom, teasing.

"Behave," I warned.

"Never," she replied. "I'm going to make you come right here before the day is over."

“Oh really!”

Celeste continued her ministrations, working her way down my legs, paying special attention to my spot behind my knees. By the time she finished, I was halfway aroused.

"Your turn," I said, sitting up and taking the bottle from her.

Celeste stretched out on her towel, untying her bikini top. Her tits were perfect—small and perky, nipples pink and already hard. I got on top of her, mirroring her position, and began working the lotion into her.

"You're going to cause a scene," I said, nodding toward her chest.

She grinned up at me. "That's the point. How else are we going to attract attention?"

I shook my head. That was Celeste—always pushing boundaries, always looking for the next thrill. It was what had drawn me to her in the first place, that fearlessness, that hunger for experience.

As I massaged her, I became aware of eyes on us. Not unusual—two women, one Black and one white, touching each other on a public beach was bound to draw looks. But one gaze felt more intense than the others.

I looked up, finding a woman watching us from a few yards away. She was alone under a small umbrella, a book open but clearly forgotten in her lap. She was stunning—tall and athletic with curves that her red bikini struggled to contain. Her skin was a rich caramel, her black hair cut in a long, silky way that framed her cheekbones and lips.

When our eyes met, the woman didn't look away. Instead, she smiled—slow and deliberate, her eyebrow raised in what could only be described as an invitation.

"Don't look now," I murmured to Celeste, "but we've got an admirer at two o'clock."

Celeste, of course, immediately looked. "Oh," she breathed, taking in the woman. "Oh, she's fucking gorgeous."

The woman, seeing that she had both our attention now, raised her hand in a small wave. Celeste, never one for subtlety, waved back.

"We should invite her over," Celeste said, sitting up and retying her top, much to the disappointment of several nearby onlookers.

"Just like that?" I asked, though I was already imagining what that red bikini would look like on our hotel room floor.

"Why not? We're on vacation. She's hot. We're hot. What's the worst that could happen?"

Before I could answer, Celeste was up, walking across the sand toward the woman. I watched, half-embarrassed, half-aroused, as they spoke. The woman laughed at something Celeste said, her hand kept hiding her laughter. Then they were both looking at me, and Celeste was gesturing for me to come over.

I stood, suddenly self-conscious in a way I rarely was. There was something about this woman—an air of sophistication, of knowing exactly what she wanted—that made me feel like I was the one being hunted, not the other way around.

"This is Gabriela," Celeste said as I came over. "Gabriela, this is my girlfriend."

"Prazer," Gabriela said, extending her hand. Her voice was low and musical, her accent making even that simple word sound like sex. “Very nice to meet you,”

Her hand was cool despite the heat. She held on a beat longer than necessary, her sexy brown eyes holding mine.

"Celeste tells me you're here for Carnival," she continued, switching to perfect English. "First time in Rio?"

"Yes," I said, finding my voice. "We arrived yesterday."

"And already causing trouble, I see." Her smile was knowing, teasing. "Celeste mentioned your... adventure last night."

I shot Celeste a look, but she just shrugged. "Gabriela's from here,” she explained. "I thought she might be able to show us around. Maybe take us somewhere off the tourist track."

"I'd be happy to," Gabriela said. "Rio has many secrets that visitors rarely discover."

The way she said it made it clear we weren't talking about museums or historical sites.

"Why don't you join us?" I suggested, gesturing to our spot.

“Sure.”

Gabriela gathered her things and followed us back. As she walked ahead of me, I couldn't help admiring the sway of her hips, the perfect roundness of her ass barely contained by her bikini bottom. Celeste caught me looking and grinned, mouthing "I know, right?"

We settled on our towels, Gabriela between us. Up close, she was even more stunning—flawless skin, a small tattoo of a hummingbird near her ankle, and a thin gold chain around her neck. She smelled like coconut oil and something spicier, more exotic.

"So," Celeste began, never one for patience, "do you often pick up tourists on the beach?"

Gabriela laughed. "Never, but I’ll make an exception for beautiful women like you girls.” She looked between us. "Especially when they put on such an... interesting show."

"We weren't putting on a show," I protested.

"No?" Gabriela raised an eyebrow. "The way you touched each other... it seemed very intentional. Very aware of your audience." She leaned back on her elbows, her breasts straining against her bikini top. "I liked watching you two.”

Celeste, predictably, was delighted. "We liked being watched," she admitted. "Especially by you."

The three of us fell into easy conversation after that, the sexual tension simmering just below the surface. Gabriela told us she was a photographer, specializing in portraits of women. "I capture them at their most authentic," she explained. "Often their most vulnerable."

"I bet you do," Celeste murmured, and Gabriela smiled, acknowledging the double entendre.

As we talked, the sun beat down mercilessly. I caught Gabriela watching the path of one droplet as it disappeared into my bikini bottom.

"It's very hot," she observed, her eyes meeting mine. "Perhaps we should cool off in the water?”

The three of us made our way to the water, wading in until the waves lapped at our waists. Gabriela moved with the grace of someone born to the water, diving beneath a wave and emerging with her hair slicked back.

"Come," she said, swimming further out where the water was deeper. "It's better here."

We followed, and soon the three of us were floating in a loose circle. Other swimmers were nearby, but the movement of the water created a strange sense of privacy.

"I have a confession," Gabriela said, swimming closer until she was treading water just inches from me. "I've been checking you two out since you arrived."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Last night. At the street party in Lapa. I saw you with my friend Ana."

“What! Ana’s your friend?"

Gabriela nodded. "More than a friend, sometimes. She told me about your encounter. She said you were... talented."

Gabriela came between us, her lips finding mine. I was so surprised that I nearly went under, but her arm pulled me around my waist, holding me up as her tongue slipped in.

When she pulled back, I was breathless, and not from swimming. Celeste came over and applauded us.

"My apartment is not far from here," Gabriela said. "Perhaps you'd like to continue this conversation somewhere more private?"

Gabriela's apartment was on the top floor of a building just a few blocks from the beach—a spacious, airy loft with huge windows. Art covered the walls—photographs, mostly, of women in various states of undress, all captured with an eye that was both artistic and unmistakably erotic.

"Your work?" Celeste asked, examining a black and white image of a woman's back, her backside a graceful curve disappearing into rumpled sheets.

"Yes," Gabriela confirmed. "Caipirinha?" she offered, pulling out limes and cachaça.

We said yes and watched as she prepared the drinks.

"To new friends," she toasted, handing us each a glass.

The drink was strong and sweet, the cachaça burning pleasantly on the way down. I took another sip, letting it warm me from the inside, though I hardly needed help in that department. Just being in this apartment, knowing what was about to happen, had me on edge.

Gabriela set down her glass and came to me, taking my drink and placing it on the table. "I've been wanting to do this properly," she said, her hands on my hips.

This time I was ready for her—hungry, even. Her lips were soft but insistent. I felt Celeste behind me, her hands sliding up my sides, her lips finding my neck.

"Let's get you out of this," Gabriela murmured, tugging at my bikini top.

The top fell away, and Celeste's teased my breasts, her fingers flipping my nipples into hard peaks. Gabriela stepped back to check me out.

“Tão lindo!” she said in Portuguese, her hand moving to the center of my chest, between my breasts, to my stomach. "Both of you, take off your clothes."

Something was commanding in her tone that made us both comply. Celeste and I stripped as the afternoon light streamed through the windows.

Gabriela circled us slowly, admiring from every angle. "Perfect," she declared. Then, to my surprise, she went over to her shelf and pulled down a camera.

"May I?" she asked, holding it up.

Celeste and I exchanged a glance. We'd never done anything like this before. The idea of being captured through her lens, of becoming art like the women on her walls, was undeniably arousing.

“Sure,” Celeste answered for both of us. "But only if you join us afterward."

“Claro.”

What followed was unlike anything I'd experienced before. Gabriela directed us—"Touch her breast," "Kiss her neck," "Show me how wet you are." The camera clicked as we obeyed, each pose more intimate than the last.

"Now make your girlfriend come," Gabriela instructed Celeste. "I want to capture her face when she does.”

Celeste pushed me back onto Gabriela's couch, spreading my legs. I should have felt embarrassed, taken advantage of, but instead I felt powerful, desired.

Celeste ate my pussy, making me gasp, as my hips rose to meet her tongue and lips. The camera continued to click, Gabriela moving around us to capture different angles.

“Oh, fuck! Celeste, oh you’re so fucking good,” I moaned.

"Look at me," Gabriela commanded, and I did, my eyes finding hers just as Celeste stuck her middle finger in my cunt, making me nearly scream.

"That's it," Gabriela encouraged, the camera momentarily lowered so she could watch. "Let go. Let me see you come, Negra.”

I came so hard that I was nearly crying while Gabriela captured it all,. When I finished moaning, she set the camera aside and began taking off her bikini.

"My turn," she said.

Gabriela's body was even more magnificent naked, strong and supple, with full breasts tipped with dark nipples and a neatly trimmed pubic black hair. She joined us on the couch, pulling Celeste into a deep kiss while her hand found its way between my legs. Her fingers started playing in my wet pussy.

“Wow!” I moaned again.

"I want you in 69 and I will join in shortly,” Gabriela commanded.

“Oh, you want us to get freaky, huh?” I said rhetorically.

“Here, come here, she said, positioning us on her bed. Celeste is on her back, I’m on her face, facing her feet. In this position, my pussy was in Celeste's mouth. Gabriela knelt beside us, watching for a moment as we began to eat each other out.

“Wow,” she exclaimed, then positioned herself so she could alternate between licking Celeste and eating me.

The sensation was incredible—Celeste on my clit, then Gabriela's different but equally skilled mouth replacing hers, then back again. I did my best to focus on making Celeste cum, but it was difficult with two women taking turns eating my wet pussy.

Gabriela's hands were everywhere—squeezing my ass, holding Celeste's nipples, occasionally fingerfucking inside one or both of us. The room filled with moans, gasps, and wet sounds.

I came first, unable to hold back with the dual assault on my senses. My orgasm triggered Celeste's, her thighs clamping around my head as she hollered. Gabriela kept urging us on as we released our juices.

"Now," she said, lying on her back, "both of you. Make me come."

Celeste and I got on each side of her, our hands and mouths exploring her. I suck her nipple while Celeste attended to the other.

"Lower," she commanded. "I need your mouths in and out of my buceta."

We took turns—Celeste licking up her slit while I sucked on her clit, then switching.

“Comer, comer.”

Gabriela watched us, moaned, and gave directions—"Harder," "Slower," "dedos”.

When she came, it was with both our mouths on her. A stream of Portuguese fell from her lips as pleasure overtook her.

The afternoon had faded into evening, the light through the windows turning golden, then pink, then deepening to purple.

"You must stay for dinner," Gabriela said, propping herself up. "I know a place nearby where the seafood is good. Then perhaps we can return here for... dessert."

Celeste caught my eye over Gabriela's shoulder. We'd only been in Rio for two days, and already the city was exceeding our wildest expectations.

"Dinner sounds good,” I said. "But I think we might need to shower first."

Gabriela's smile was wicked as she rose, pulling us both with her toward the bathroom. "I have a very large shower," she said. "Plenty of room for three."