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Chapter 1: Arrival in Paradise The tropical air wrapped around them like a warm, humid embrace as the Belarusian family stepped out of the airport into the sun-drenched paradise of Mauritius. The golden light reflected off the airport's polished glass, the scent of the ocean mingling with the aroma of blooming flowers in the distance. Tourists bustled about, chattering in excitement, dragging luggage behind them, taking in the sights. But one figure stood perfectly still, his sharp, dark eyes locked on one particular member of the arriving family.

Anya.

Eighteen years old. A walking fantasy.

She moved like a goddess, her blonde hair cascading down her back in golden waves, her slim, sensual body barely concealed by the light hippie-style dress she had chosen for the day. The tropical heat made the thin fabric cling to her curves, outlining the full swell of her tits, the gentle, perky bounce of her round, juicy ass, and the teasing hint of her thong pressing against the sheer material. Every step she took sent her tits jiggling, the sway of her hips graceful, effortlessly catching the attention of every passing man and she was used to it.

Anya knew she was a fucking dream, and she thrived on the hunger in men's eyes. She got off on teasing them, showing just enough to make them imagine what lay underneath, letting their dirty minds do the rest. She wasn't some innocent little girl.

But despite all her teasing, despite the way she flaunted her body and played with the hunger in men's eyes, no man had ever truly taken her. She had just turned eighteen last week, finally stepping into full womanhood, but her untouched pussy remained a forbidden fruit no one had claimed. She had spent time aching, fantasising, her body thrumming with an insatiable hunger she barely understood, but she had never given in—never let a man spread her legs and teach her what it truly meant to be fucked. She had teased, she had tempted, she had made men desperate for her, but no one had ever had her. And that only made her want it more.

The wiry black taxi driver standing beside his car licked his lips, barely hiding the way his gaze devoured her. His name was Gerald, and he had seen beautiful tourists before, but this girl? This girl was something else.

His eyes trailed over her smooth, creamy thighs, up the outline of her perfect tits, his cock twitching at the way her nipples poked through the fabric, already hard from the change in temperature. He adjusted his pants, his mind racing with images of how he'd fuck her senseless. He imagined bending her over right there on the pavement, lifting that flimsy dress, yanking that thong to the side, and stuffing his thick black cock deep into her tight pussy.

And judging by the way she walked, the way she smirked, the way her eyes flicked up to meet his gaze for just a second too long—she fucking knew what she was doing to him.

"Welcome to Mauritius," Gerald greeted, his deep voice rich with his Creole accent, his teeth flashing in a wide grin. But his eyes? His eyes stayed glued to her tits.

Anya didn't look away. Instead, she arched her back slightly, pushing her tits out a little more, just enough for her nipples to strain against the thin dress. She saw the way his throat bobbed, how his nostrils flared as he tried to keep his composure.

She liked knowing he wanted her.

"Bonjour, monsieur!" her father boomed, stepping forward to shake Gerald's hand, his own clueless to the thick tension in the air. "Ça va bien?" he added in his butchered French.

"Ah, oui, monsieur. Très bien," Gerald replied, barely acknowledging the older man. His focus was on the blonde goddess beside him.

Anya met his gaze again with her grey eyes, then deliberately shifted

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