Back-Shots | By : Nesha Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rihanna Views: 14645 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I don't know Chris Brown, Rihanna or their associates. I don't claim the places, designer brands, songs, movies or anything else mentioned. They all belong to their respective owners. I don't make money from this story. This is fic |
Well after a hiatus I’m back. I told myself I would take a break to work on my personal life. Well my life’s at a stand-still so I might as well just write to pass the time. So I’m presenting you another Chrianna story. Enjoy!
*****
Summary: Rippling waves.
Float Part 1
“A nigga so deep underwater, can you feel my submarine?” Chris Brown
Rihanna was ecstatic when all of her friends greeted her ex-boyfriend with open arms the minute he step foot on her yacht. Leandra, Jennifer, her boyfriend Aaron, and Melissa welcomed the signer with crushing hugs while Rihanna stood a small distance away observing the display of affection gaily.
The pop star slid her designer brown, mirrored aviator shades over her hazel-green eyes to protect her eyes from the bright summer sunrays. Her luxury yacht was anchored on the French Riviera in Saint-Tropez. She turned her head in the opposite direction from the group to stare at the deep blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea sighing contently. Looking out at the soft, rippling waves of the international waters, the Bajan spotted a small green and white pedal boat, with a ladder in the back and a slide attached above. Two men and one woman were resting comfortably on the boat. Rihanna’s eyes immediately honed in on the sight of the topless woman with her perky breasts exposed.
She quickly snapped a photo of the group and uploaded the picture to her Instagram account. I don't know what the phuck this is, but I see titties, the caption underneath the photograph read.
It was no secret to her fans and the public Rihanna deeply admired the female anatomy. She had a fascination with beautiful breasts and round derrieres. Whenever an attractive woman with bountiful curves graced her presence, the songstress didn’t hesitate to fill her palms with soft flesh. And if Rihanna’s groping hands couldn’t squeeze to her heart’s content, then she would post photographs of the curvaceous body parts.
Facing away from the pedal boat to avoid her incessant urge to gawk at the half-naked woman, Rihanna’s gaze landed on her ex-boyfriend again. She pursed cherry lips together to keep her expression neutral. However butterflies were having a party inside her stomach when he parted from the group to slowly approach her.
Inwardly frowning at her lack of self-control when her lips slowly curved into a smirk, Rihanna rolled her eyes at her ex and looked at the shore of Saint-Tropez. She didn’t want her expression to give away that she was happy to see him, but deep inside she knew hiding her feelings was ineffective. The outspoken islander practically shouted her jubilation to her 23 million Twitter followers when he arrived, and she knew her ex kept a watchful eye on her Twitter timeline. He knew she was happy to see him, but it was still frustrating trying to hide her joy. Her excitement to reunite with the R&B star in paradise, and Chris knowing Rihanna was mentally giggling like a schoolgirl, would only increase the size of his already over-inflated ego. While Rihanna tried to focus on the various light-brown and beige buildings where the natives dwelled past her yacht, her peripheral vision absorbed her ex’s attire for today.
Decked out in a white t-shirt, a gold chain around his neck, black skinny jeans being held by a black leather belt, and a black leather jacket with a black hoodie underneath, Rihanna thought he looked good. Of course her ex looked good in nearly everything he wore, so it was no surprise his lanky physique filled out the clothes he had on. Her gentle smirk turned into a light scowl when she noticed the red bandana tied around his right knee. There were rumors floating around for several months about Chris joining a gang, but being in the entertainment business for many years, Rihanna knew firsthand not to believe everything she heard or read. Looking at the singer proudly sporting a red bandana, and matching red and black Nikes on his feet made her question whether the rumors were true. If they were she was disappointed in him because she always thought he was better than that. After all, it wasn’t his newfound ‘gangsta persona’ that caused her to fall in love with him many years ago. Even with her infatuation for ‘bad boys’, Rihanna finally came to the realization she wasn’t attracted to them. She fancied good boys with edge.
The man who captured her heart was silly, kind, lively and goodhearted. The man walking in her direction was a completely different person, the total opposite from her first love. But Rihanna held on to hope that her first love was still there underneath the exterior of thug ignorance. And that’s why he’s here with her on this lovely French afternoon.
His dark-brown eyes beamed at her behind a pair of thin glasses and Rihanna mentally admitted he looked cute. His newly blond hair was freshly cut and his face was smooth with the exception of the gentle stubble of his mustache and light goatee.
I’m gonna need a drink. The Barbadian pondered. She wished she had a bottle of Guinness in her hand right now to cool her rampant hormones when the 6’2 frame of her ex blocked her sunlight. She looked down at his Nikes and slowly her eyes traveled upwards past his bandana tied to his knee, belt, and gold chain to rest on his handsome, angular face.
She looked away again and fought hard against the blush that was threatening to color her cheeks. The songstress felt like a high school girl who’s experiencing her first crush on the popular football captain who reciprocated her feelings. The Bajan was a hormonal mess already and they haven’t spoken yet!
“Took ya long enough, nigga.” Rihanna looked to the Mediterranean Sea, inwardly sulking because she was mildly disappointed that the pedal boat with the topless woman sailed away in the distance. She couldn’t view her eye-candy anymore. The pop star purposefully avoided his face because she knew if she looked at him again, she was going to rip off his clothes and screw him on the deck of her yacht in front of all of her friends.
Chris Brown’s thick, smooth lips parted to show off his sexy, playful grin. Even with her gaze watching the French waters, Rihanna could feel Chris’ eyes behind her, undressing her and the feeling made her spine tingle and her now-wet, feminine core tense.
Rihanna was modestly covered—a first for the pop star who enjoyed displaying her beautiful physique at any given chance—but Chris’ hazed eyes were looking at his ex-girlfriend like she was standing in front of him naked.
She understood because underneath the painted-on animal print leggings melding into her curves, matching animal print bra and sheer top, Rihanna was naked. The pop start felt it was pointless to wear any underwear underneath her leggings. They were so tight even the lining of a G-string would show through. So she went commando. And with her perceptive ex’s vision rooted to her ass, Rihanna could accurately guess Chris knew she wasn’t wearing panties.
Feeling sensual underneath his stare, Rihanna slowly turned to face Chris again and licked her lips till they shone, reflecting the light from the sun on her juicy bottom, red one. She tugged at one of her two French braids and flirtatiously looked up at the singer and matched his grin with her own.
“Don’t stare at me like I’m not wearing clothes.”
Looking down at the woman who was a head shorter than himself, Chris leaned closer, rested his forehead against hers and husked, “Don’ be standin’ th’r’ like you ain’t happeh ta see me. I know ya missed me.”
Rolling her eyes behind her shades again at her ex, Rihanna pressed her lips together and smiled. She released her hair and tugged on the collar of his leather jacket, flipping it up and smoothing it around his neck before responding. “Nigga it’s only been a week. Don’t get cocky. I didn’t miss you that much.” The songstress referred to their short time together the week prior when she and Chris spent the weekend together before she departed on her vacation. Inwardly Rihanna smiled as she remembered Chris pulling her weave so hard it took two days just to get it untangled and neatly wavy again.
Clearing her thoughts, Rihanna used her hand to iron away imaginary dust from the sleeves of his jacket. “But you’re here now, so it don’t matter.”
Circling his arms around her back, Chris allowed his hands to slide down from the base of her spine to clutch her backside. He let out a gentle laugh when Rihanna squealed delightfully as his fingers dug in the fabric of her leggings.
He gave her a quick peck on her lips and husked in her ear. “Damn gurl I missed you.”
Rihanna’s body shivered at the sound of Chris’ sultry, country accent whispering in her ear. She felt the light hairs of his mustache and goatee tickle the outer shell of her right ear, which in turn made her giggle. She reached underneath his arms to hold tightly to his shoulders, feeling her fingers sink in the soft leather of his jacket. Inhaling deeply, Rihanna’s nostrils were filled with Chris’ designer cologne and his aroma sent her already raging hormones into overdrive. The islander’s lower anatomy pulsated and she couldn’t resist the urge to rub herself against his hardness pressing into her pelvis. If I don’t control myself, we gonna fuck right now!
Displaying her brilliant smile, Rihanna looked up at Chris and asked, “How long are you gonna be here?”
Slipping his hands past her ass and in between his ex-girlfriend’s thighs, Chris separated them until Rihanna’s feet were set outside of his, opening her body up a little more to settle against his hips. The couple listened as Rihanna’s friends snickered and made jokes behind them, but Chris and Rihanna ignored the humorous banter.
“We star’ shootin’ tha video tomorrow and Luda’s havin’ a party tonigh’ on his yacht. But I righ’ now I got all day today to do nothin’. So…” He trailed off, giving the songstress time to process the information he just told her.
Rihanna listened to the singer’s voice trail off and it caused a bit of worry to settle inside her. The Bajan was afraid Chris was about to tell her he was going to hang out with his friends that traveled with him, or—heaven forbid—spend time with his tag-along girlfriend. The songstress was upset her lover decided to bring her rival with him to France, but in truth Chris’ girlfriend traveled everywhere with him, so it didn’t come as a surprise. But that fact didn’t quell the jealousy slowly bubbling inside of her.
Removing her arms from his body to place a hand on her hip, Rihanna’s coy mood switched to full bitch-mode. Her red lips transformed into a deep scowl, and her hazel-green eyes hardened like iced gems. She was ready to engage the R&B star in a verbal battle for coming on her yacht just to—yet again—throw his relationship with his Asian mail order bride in her face. This nigga got some nerve!
“Nigga how—eek!” Rihanna’s near-oral assault vanished when she felt her body being lifted into the air. Her torso rested against Chris’ shoulder while he held her caveman style. “Oh my God! Chris! Put me down! You gonna make me fall!” The songstress looked in the direction her friends for help, but they all laughed and took pictures on their phones.
“Fuck y’all!” Rihanna spat at her snickering comrades as she extended both of her middle fingers at them.
Chris easily balanced his ex-girlfriend’s weight on his shoulder and smacked her ass playfully before saying, “Wha’ was ya ‘bout ta say? ‘Nigga what’?”
Looking at the back of her ex’s head, Rihanna shouted more obscenities as she tried to unsuccessful wiggle herself free from Chris’ tight grasp. “Fuck nigga! Wha’chu think you’re doing? Put me down right now!”
Ignoring the colorful language from the pop star, Chris silently carried Rihanna away from the deck and inside of the dining area of her yacht. When they were fully inside of the dining area, he set the islander on her feet and held her close to his chest. The singer felt her petite breasts crushing against his chest and he slipped his hands down her backside to grope her once more.
“I finally got’chu alone gurl.” Chris drawled out. He leaned back against one of the many tables in the area and used his hands on her derriere to push her fully against his arousal. “An’ I ain’t got shit to do today… except you.” He leaned his face close to hers and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Rihanna removed her sunglasses from her face and carelessly tossed them over her shoulders. Giving her secret lover a lewd smirk she asked, “Oh so you came all the way to France just to ‘do me’?”
“Hell yeah!” The singer stressed enthusiastically. “Gurl I saw tha’ picture of you on Instagram in tha’ leopard bikini… ssss…” Chris hissed through his teeth as he reminisced on the way the islander’s derriere was perfectly curved in her designer, animal-print bikini bottoms and tightened his grip on Rihanna’s ass. “I couldn’t wait till I got here to see you! Matt’r of fact—” He stopped mid-sentence, reached for his ex-girlfriend’s shoulders and spun her around until her back was facing his chest. “Turn around an’ lemme see tha’ ass. Bend over.”
Rihanna felt another blush heating her face and her grin stretched a mile long while she listened to Chris speak to her. Giggles escaped the Bajan’s mouth when her head was forcibly pushed near the floor and her thighs being fondled and spread apart in the 8:20 position like the numbers on an analog clock.
“Lemme get this view.” Chris said. He reached inside the waistband of her leggings and snapped the elastic till it popped against Rihanna’s skin. He smirked at the light bruise that was visible on her flesh and held her heart-shaped backside against the protruding length of his dick straining against his jeans.
Keeping one hand on her hip, the Virginia-native reached for his iPhone with his free hand and took a few pictures of Rihanna’s ass in her animal-print leggings. The way the fabric was smoothed over her body like a second skin caused Chris’ libido to skyrocket. Drips of his pre-cum dampened his boxer-briefs and Chris was mildly disappointed because he wanted to empty every drop of his essence inside his ex.
Feeling deliciously naughty from the position she was in, Rihanna wiggled her ass gently in front of Chris’ erection and laughed when he started to thrust himself into her buttocks. “I can give you something else to look at, too.” She looked over her shoulder to tell him and bit her lip flirtatiously.
Hooking her thumbs in the elastic of her leggings, Rihanna slowly pulled them down to tease her lover. She pouted her lips and blew an air-kiss in his direction until she exposed her Arabic tattoo above her left cheek. “See Chris?” The pop star cooed in her island accent. “I’m not wearing any panties.”
“Heh.” Chris’ thick brows furrowed while his dark-brown eyes landed on her tattoo. He smoothed the foreign lettering with his index finger before whispering its meaning. “Lover.” He pocketed his phone again and patted it in place.
“Yeah. That’s what—huh?”
Rihanna’s sentence was interrupted when she felt her body being righted and Chris’ chest pressing against her back. Chris’ hands quickly yanked down her pants and he smacked her bare bottom one time before sitting in an available chair, bringing the songstress with him.
“Robyn I wan’chu so b-aaa-d,” the singer breathed in her ear.
Panic chilled Rihanna’s veins when she thought about her friends entering the dining area and witnessing their coupling. If it were strangers watching their lovemaking she wouldn’t care. She would welcome their attentive eyes, but her friends looking at her and Chris being intimate was an entirely different matter. The thought just didn’t sit well with Rihanna. Simply imagining their voyeuristic stares made her uncomfortable.
“Right now?” She looked over her shoulder and asked, mentally praying to a deity that her ex-boyfriend wasn’t serious about his request.
Nodding his confirmation, Chris repeated, “Right now.” Holding tightly to the underside of Rihanna’s knees, he separated her thighs to fully remove her leggings and heels from her body. He positioned himself above her opening. Lifting her in the air like she was weightless Chris asked her, “You ready?”
“Fuck no I ain’t!” Rihanna spat at the R&B star. “I don’t wanna do this Chris! Not like this!” As words of protest left the crimson lips of her mouth, liquid heat pooled from her womb and coated Chris’ length, betraying her gripe and creaming him with her instant arousal.
“Sh-iii-t…” the singer drawled out in his southern twang. “I don’t know why you lyin’ to yo’self. You know you been a freak! You ain’t got nothin’ ta worry ‘bout, boo. I’mma make this quick.” Chris let go of Rihanna to unzip his jeans and free his erection from his boxer-briefs.
Fluttering her eyelids close, Rihanna breathily whispered, “Chris… someone might see us… Let’s take this to the bedroom.”
Giving the pop star a trail of butterfly kisses from her neck up to her left earlobe, Chris whispered back, “Too late Robyn. I’m finna go in.” He slightly lifted her up and smoothed his length against the wet, soaping center of her thighs. The singer continued to stroke himself against Rihanna, purposefully making his tip graze the hood of her clitoris and reveling in the sounds of the light moans she was making until his dick was saturated.
Using her body’s nectar as a lubricant, Chris repositioned himself from the opening of her tunnel to the constricted hole of her anus. He slowly pulled Rihanna’s body down on the tip of his penis and gently thrust upwards until the head was fully submerged inside her body.
Feeling part of his erection inside unfamiliar territory caused Rihanna’s breath to get trapped in her throat. Tears misted her eyes and her heart pounded violently against her chest. Instantaneously her butt cheeks clenched the head of Chris’ dick and she puffed out, “Chris? My-My ass…”
“Damn gurl. I know.” The R&B star managed to choke out. Feeling the hot tightness of Rihanna’s anus gripping him caused his semen to rush from his sac and travel to the tip of his dick. Digging his nails in the underside of Rihanna’s knees, he used his firm clutch on her legs to control his seed from shooting a massive load in her lower anatomy. He wasn’t ready to empty himself yet. “Five minutes. All I need is five minutes.” He chanted while progressively stroking himself inside her.
Rihanna’s vision blurred with her tears and the stings of humiliation prickled her flesh; however she was too far gone to stop Chris in his pleasurable assault in her backside. She reached behind his head to pull at the soft freshly-cut waves of his blond hair while quietly howling out his name in the air.
“Chris… Yes Chris… Just like that…”
Earlier reservations of her friends entering the dining area to catch them making love disappeared from Rihanna’s conscious. With the way Chris was making her feel the islander didn’t care if her family walked in at this very moment to catch her spread eagle in Chris’ lap, and him ass-fucking her! Her pussy muscles throbbed with each stab her ex-boyfriend gave her, and more of her nectar secreted from her body to coat his balls in a waterfall of honey.
Chris listened to the husky demands of his exotic lover and complied, gradually increasing his strokes bit by bit. His teeth clenched and his eyes shut to bask in the incredible feeling they created together.
Tossing his head back the singer cried out, “Mmm… shit Robyn! Damn this shit feel good! You gon’ make a nigga nut!”
Rubbing her bottom against his lap each time Chris pulled her body down, Rihanna panted, “Come in my ass, Chris.” Her orgasm was fast-approaching and the Bajan didn’t want her lover to miss out. With every push of Chris’ dick inside her, it became increasingly difficult for Rihanna to control her budding desire. Her thighs quivered and her voice was slowly giving out. She knew the time to finish their anal-quickie was near and she wanted them to share their climax. She was desperate to feel his, too.
“I got’chu babe.” The singer bit the outer shell of her ear before licking it. He giggled in her canal when Rihanna shivered and cooed as he laved at her earlobe.
Chris’ pushes and thrusts became more forceful and severe. He slammed their bodies together hard. With every downward push of Rihanna’s body, he lifted his hips to join hers with the same amount of power used. Grunts and moans filled the air and Chris’ sac tightened when he shot his load inside his lover.
Releasing her legs, he held Rihanna close to his chest with one hand and fondled her engorged, sensitive clit with the other. He stilled his body, only grinding his hips into her round cheeks and fingers toying with her body’s center until every drop of life was expelled from his body and released into hers.
Collapsing her sweat-soaked back against Chris’ damp t-shirt, Rihanna rested her head against his shoulder and gasped after her orgasm hit her. “I think… I think that was three minutes, Chris.”
Cackling loudly in the air, the singer softly kissed Rihanna’s neck and agreed. “Yeah it was. But tonight it’s gon’ get bett’r ‘cause I got somethin’ fo’ ya.”
“Oh say word?” Rihanna carefully separated her body from Chris to stand. Her body involuntarily trembled with pleasure when she felt Chris pulling out of her anus. She looked down at the floor and discovered her leggings underneath the table. Getting down on all fours to retrieve them, Chris couldn’t help but to admire the lovely view of Rihanna he was presented with.
The Barbadian’s ass was red with light bruising from where he smacked it, and in between her buttocks her bare pussy was exposed, with the sunlight from the windows making her center glisten with her juices.
Quickly adjusting his flaccid length back in his boxer-briefs and zipping his jeans, Chris pulled out his iPhone again to take more pictures of the songstress bent under the table on all fours.
Standing again to face her ex, Rihanna smiled and said, “Still taking pictures of me, Chris? Don’t you got enough already?”
“Neva tha’.” Chris replied simply. He continued to take more photographs of his lover as she slipped into her leggings again. When Rihanna finished, she tried to turn away to locate her heels but Chris stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder and spinning her around to face him again.
He gave the pop star a serious look before telling her, “I can’t neva look at’chu enough, gurl.”
Feeling another blush heating her face from his compliment, Rihanna turned away so Chris wouldn’t see the look of embarrassment on her visage. Feeling the elastic of her leggings being tugged again, she looked down and scowled when Chris pulled at the front of her leggings and put his iPhone inside her pants to take pictures of her crotch.
“Nigga!” Rihanna’s hazel-green eyes blazoned with anger but she was equally turned on by the singer’s perverse act. “Wha’chu think you’re doing?”
Keeping his dark-brown eyes focused on his task, Chris nonchalantly responded, “Takin’ pictures of wha’s mine.”
Rolling her eyes at the Virginia-native, Rihanna humored the R&B star by pulling down her leggings to expose herself to him. “See? I was thinking about getting a tattoo right around…” she used her index finger to point to a spot on her crotch and giggled when Chris’ eyes followed every path of her finger. “…here. How do you feel about that, Chris?”
Lifting his head to look at Rihanna with hooded eyes, Chris’ lips stretched into a sexy smile before he answered her question. “Chris Brown. Yeah. I like tha’.” He nodded while imagining the pop star tattooing his name on her pussy. “You should do tha’.”
Before Rihanna could retort with a sexy comeback of her own, the couple heard voices coming near and she immediately adjusted her leggings while Chris pocketed his phone. Suddenly locating her shoes, Rihanna slipped into them just as Jennifer, her boyfriend Aaron, Melissa, and Leandra entered the dining area.
The small group stopped chatting to give Chris and Rihanna suspicious stares.
After adjusting the crooked glasses on his face, Chis stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket and Rihanna turned around to face her friends and clear her throat.
“Ahem.” She was tempted to wipe the dewy sweat that dotted her forehead due to her sudden nervousness, but she knew that move would only make her look even more suspicious. Nevertheless she knew, and her friends knew what just transpired moments before they walked in.
“Your shades are over there on the floor.” Melissa was the first to speak when she pointed to her best friend’s forgotten sunglasses strewn carelessly on the floor.
Rihanna’s eyes traveled in the direction of her best friend’s finger to spot her forgotten frames. Her stomach sank to her feet and listening to Chris’ light cackles behind her made her feel more uncomfortable. Nigga this is your fault, she was tempted to scream at her laughing ex.
Noticing the unpleasant aroma in the air, Leandra scrunched her nose and voiced her opinion about the foul stench. “It smells like ass in here.”
*****
I have written more than 4,320 words for this story! I didn’t realize it would be this long! So I decided to split Float into two parts. I doesn’t make sense in keeping people waiting until I’m cured of my writer’s block until I publish this story. I’m not great at making promises, but if (once again) everything works out for me part 2 will be available sometime in mid-September.
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo