White wife seduced by black boss in Africa _ Expat stories

View media item 28284 I am a South African born and bread and love to read stories of expats that work in Africa and there white wives get seduced into fucking black cock. This is one of my fantasies that I get a job in one of our neighboring countries and my wife get seduced to fuck lots of black African cocks. If only dreams can come true !!!! Would love to have it happen to me and see my wife's prim and proper white pussy being used by big black cock .Big very dark strong powerful African men using my wife's pussy to please them and full her with cum .
She does not know yet that I want her to get black fucked . Her white pussy is still untouched by BBC.Any African interested to help get fantasy real?
View media item 28284 I am a South African born and bread and love to read stories of expats that work in Africa and there white wives get seduced into fucking black cock. This is one of my fantasies that I get a job in one of our neighboring countries and my wife get seduced to fuck lots of black African cocks. If only dreams can come true !!!! Would love to have it happen to me and see my wife's prim and proper white pussy being used by big black cock .Big very dark strong powerful African men using my wife's pussy to please them and full her with cum .
She does not know yet that I want her to get black fucked . Her white pussy is still untouched by BBC.Any African interested to help get fantasy real?
I'm in
View media item 28284 I am a South African born and bread and love to read stories of expats that work in Africa and there white wives get seduced into fucking black cock. This is one of my fantasies that I get a job in one of our neighboring countries and my wife get seduced to fuck lots of black African cocks. If only dreams can come true !!!! Would love to have it happen to me and see my wife's prim and proper white pussy being used by big black cock .Big very dark strong powerful African men using my wife's pussy to please them and full her with cum .
She does not know yet that I want her to get black fucked . Her white pussy is still untouched by BBC.Any African interested to help get fantasy real?
Ive been on safari to several African countries. I had my wife with me every time. She stayed in camp most of the time. The african men were wild about White pussy. One booking agent came to keep her company. They went to several partys in the city that required overnight accomodations. Later my wife told me he arranged some heavy duty multiple partner arrangements for her. I was busy anyway. Johanesburg and Capetown are nice places to leave your wife. Bbc is everywhere.


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Coerced Wife

by neff trebor

Copyright© 2015 by neff trebor

Jennifer Marie Stephenson was apprehensive, but tried not to show it. She had tried not to think about her husband's business, but it was getting very hard to ignore. It seemed so promising at first. Her nerdy husband had spent years of his spare time working on his hobby. He had been a professor of chemistry at the local university. In his spare time, he had dabbled in the belief that he could develop a new formula and process for coloring plastics that would cut out some of the costly steps most manufacturers were using.

His obsession had begun to take more and more of his spare time, to where he was getting graduate students to help him during school hours. He finally made a mistake during one of his lectures and showed some of his private work in a power point presentation that should have been secret. One of the better students passed it on to another; and soon it was public knowledge that the head of the department had found out about.

By then, Joe, her husband had spent quite a bit on the patent and some crude material for processing. They had borrowed against their house and her parent's estate which she had inherited. Now they owed for a mortgage on the cropland which had been debt free. Jenn had planned on having the crop rental fees paying for her daughter's college education. Now that was out of the question.

Jenn checked the oven. The Chinese recipe for fatty pork was about done, so she set the huge black cast iron kettle on simmer. They would be here soon. She debated on whether to go up and change now, or go to the basement to get out the wine. Her husband could do that when they came.

Joe was about on his last option, now. Several Nigerian businessmen had been in town over the last eighteen months to visit Joe about investments. Supposedly, they had made lots of money through oil contracts from their country. It was probably some shady scam her husband secretly suspected. Most of those middle men were greasing the hands of politicians from several countries to get this oil shipped out. Most of the warlords were on the take, and if a person was in the right position, money came in avalanches.

Joe didn't really care. All he cared about was getting some investors so he could buy more time. He had patents pending, and needed to get more equipment. Jenn's thoughts about the business were interrupted when the bell rang.

They were almost destitute, and taking them out to dinner was almost out of the question. Joe had suggested inviting them over for dinner because it would save money, and he had papers and rough mock-ups of his equipment to show them.

"Get the door, honey." Jenn said as she turned to go upstairs. "Go get the wine too." She said over her shoulder. She wasn't that eager to meet them again. She had seen them before, and was uneasy talking to them. Jen went into her bedroom and looked at the clothes she had laid out. She didn't like the selection, but didn't want another confrontation with her husband about it. He was always prodding her to wear the most eye-catching clothes he could find.

The current styles were fine on the eighteen to twenty four-year old girls, but she was forty now and had a fifteen year old daughter. Single girls who wanted to be noticed seemed outrageous. She preferred a more refined look.

She had already combed out her long reddish brown hair. She took small clumps of the long strands at her temples and pulled them around behind her and tied them together with a rubber band. That kept her waist length hair back away from her face. She took off her blue oxford men's button down dress shirt and jeans. She tried not to look at herself in the mirror as she put on the horrible quarter-cup bra her husband had picked out. It was outrageous.

Her breasts were mellon-sized; not huge, but still gravity-defying for their size. Secretly she was thankful that she did not have any sag; like many of the women she knew. She tried not to focus on her long pink coral colored nipples that peeked over the top of the top of her bra. She didn't really need the garment except, perhaps for propriety.

She sat down on the bed and kicked off her boots; peeled the Levi's down over her legs. She tried not to look at herself as she took off her granny panties. "What the fuck difference does it make what underwear I use?" her mind screamed. Never-the-less, Joe would not be content with her wearing the grannies. Although nobody would ever know, Joe was always more aroused, knowing what was under that dress.

Jenn put on the grey thong as she sat. She couldn't bear to do it standing and see such a wanton image in the mirror. She picked up the grey-green western shirt and put it on. It was a dark color with green embroidery and sequins embellishing the design. She had usually rebelled when her husband had asked her to put on this pair of stockings. They were a grey silk with an embroidered elastic band at the top. When she put them on, they came to the edge of her crotch. She hated the whorish image they gave her. She picked up the grey silk pants and slid them on. They hugged her waist and butt tightly, but flared about halfway below mid-thigh. She crossed her legs and slipped on her high heeled boots and zipped them up the side. The look had been a sort of middle ground between her and her husband. When she stood, her high heeled boots felt like stilts. Again, she felt whorish, but the pants covered them and just barely brushed the ground. The only thing that gave her heels away was the almost metallic click-clack when she walked.

Her incredibly trim athletic build was almost cartoonish exaggerated with the heels.

She had worn the salacious undergarments to appease her husband. He had gone along with her more conservative outerwear, knowing that she was erotic underneath. It seemed an ironic compromise. It was arousing to him, just knowing how she looked underneath. It was enough to contain him, envisioning her as a wanton whore underneath.

She could hear the muffled conversation wafting down the hallway and into her partly closed door. When Jenn came down the stairs, the click-clack of the steel covered heels might have been the horns at the Kentucky Derby signaling the start of that race. The men stopped speaking and everybody looked in her direction. Jenn started to panic as she came into view. She forced a smile as she cleared the last step.

"Hello, everybody." She almost whispered nervously. She panicked. They were not looking her in the eye. She was pretty sure why. The quarter cup bra may have concealed her nipples in the mirror, but not when she walked. Each step caused a delayed half bounce of her breasts. The shirts was thin enough and snug enough to plainly outline the magnificent long pink nipples as they strained to escape like two curious small children peeking through the balusters where they had been banned from the party. She had stood, nonchalantly after dressing and refused to look at herself in the mirror before she came downstairs. She could see it in their eyes; the hungry stares. "Oh, fuck." Her mind screamed. "My whorish look is going to ruin my husband's business chances." She thought in panic.

"Jenn, honey, this is Marcel Okanda and his partner, Emil; Emil Okoye. I think you have all met before. We picked them up at the airport last month and took them to their hotel; remember?"

"Yes, yes" Jenn said nervously as she took several steps towards the men and extended her hand. Her words were not a whisper. They were not a loud enthusiastic exclamation of greeting. Her breath and words were more like Jackie Kennedy's voice giving a tour of the white house.

Marcel reached out; extended his hand, took hers and kissed it. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Stephenson." He turned to his partner and held his hand out in a grand gesture. Jenn moved the one step to her side to greet the second man. There was that look again.

The two Nigerians could hardly contain themselves. Jenny was an unusual woman. She was extremely trim and fit looking for a woman they knew to be middle aged. They tried not to stare when she moved the two steps to one side. Her quarter-cup bra seemed to amplify her movements. When she took the step, her breasts bounced. Once they took the miniscule downward movement, the quarter cups seemed to flip them up like a trampoline; magnifying the movement. The blouse fit like a glove; no horizontal wrinkles from being too tight. On the other hand, if you were looking and knew what you wanted to see, there they were. The men tried not to drool as they watched the long-stemmed pink peals jiggle against the snug fabric.

They saw her blink. She blinked trying to convince herself they might not have noticed. She blinked, believing that, as gentlemen, they would ignore what she knew to be happening. She blinked, perhaps, not wanting to see that glint of recognition in their eyes.

"I hope you men have had a pleasant trip." She said as she glanced nervously over at her husband, wondering what he might have seen or how he was reacting.

"It was hot when we left, but compared to Nigeria, it is pleasant here." Marcel smiled.

"Joe, hon; why don't you pour the wine while I set this food in the serving bowls?" Jenn turned, nervously trying to extricate herself from the room. She was struggling with trying to adjust to the clothes she had on. The men started chatting again; about the long flight, the American attendants and the pleasant weather.

When Jenn came back in, she had two huge cotton gloves on, carrying the black cast iron kettle. "Wow; that smells good, hon. Do you men like Chinese food?"

The men nodded; more intrigued with what was above the kettle than in it. Jen set it down and went back for another dish.

"I hope you like rice." She said as she set down the large porcelain bowl. The men were talking again as she returned again with a large bowl of lima beans. "Some people say these are lima beans. Some call this dish edamame. Some say they are soybeans." The men chuckled; not really caring what they were.

The men chatted some more during the meal and the conversation seemed to drift towards Joe's patents. "Well, the patents aren't technically finished. The patent office is still conducting a patent search. It should be done in a couple more months. I spent over six months doing it already, and I know there is nothing else like it." Joe said, trying to hide his nervousness about the subject.

When the dinner was over, Jenn took the dishes to the kitchen to clear the table. "We have some nice dessert." She said when the table was clear. "Are you ready, or do you want to sit a while? I can bring it into the living room if you want."

"Well, Mrs. Stephenson, I thought you were the dessert." Marcel said without looking up. He was checking his cell phone for messages.

"I beg your pardon!" Jenn almost chocked, thinking she might have misunderstood or misused and English phrase. Joe looked up in surprise; thinking he had misunderstood.

"Look, Joe; you know that we have more than enough money to fund your entire operation. We know that you are struggling to get by until the patent is approved. You can sell the patent for a decent amount, but then you cannot run the new business you want to start. You know you need us or somebody else; like us to get this off the ground.

"We have met you several times now. Your business prospects look good. So does your wife. I am a bit of a gambling man. I am willing to bet your wife that you need the money and backing more than your wife.

"What do you think; Mrs. Stephenson? Are you willing to bet your husband can get another backer before the patent is approved? What will you live on until then? What will you do if the patent takes longer? We have a copy of the patent and have refiled with a few modifications. If you have the slightest problem with your patent, it may take forever to sort out the difference between yours and ours. We are gambling we can outlast you financially if it takes a few more months."

"I think I am willing to bet that you and your husband are desperate enough for the funding that the two of you will meet almost any terms we offer. I'm willing to bet you will be willing to be nice to us in exchange for a favorable business deal. What do you think, Mrs. Stephenson?"

Jenn stared in horror at the smirk of the two Africans. She watched intently; the face of her husband; searching for some expression of outrage.Slowly his face turned red.She had seen that expression before.He was ready to kill somebody. Jenn knew that if he said the wrong thing; if he did something, it might be the end of their future. They could not afford to lose the farmland. They could not afford to lose their house. They could kiss goodbye their daughter's college plans.

"M ... M ... Mister Okanda, perhaps we've misunderstood you. Sometimes people mix up their words in English. Maybe what we think we hear is not what you intended to say..." Her words trailed off, hoping she had misunderstood.

"No, pretty lady. You have not misunderstood me. Your husband has not misunderstood me. Your husband has a wonderful idea. Most likely his patent will go through. But you know it might take many more months and even some more legal work; especially with our filing. In the meantime, we are prepared to help ... for a price; of course."

Jenn almost gagged. She didn't know if she could look up again at her husband.

There was a long silence. Slowly, Jenn raised her eyes to see what her husband was thinking. "Oh, fuck." Her mind screamed. She recognized that pleading look. His eyes were begging her not to tell them to "Go Get Fucked!"

Down deep, she knew better. She collapsed into the leather sofa behind her. Her hands covered her face. She dropped her face down onto her knees. "What..." was all she could come up with.

"Well, young lady, I think we're ready for that dessert. What do you have?" Jenn stood and turned for the kitchen.

"We have home made Crème Brule..."

"No, ma'am; that's not what we meant. Again; you are the dessert. Why don't you go back upstairs and dress in something a little nicer." Marcel said as he smiled. "Here; I'll go with you."


Gold Member
Jenn froze. Marcel was next to her in a step. He took her arm and guided it into and around his elbow, like they were a date. Jenn grabbed the railing with her right hand. She was trembling so bad, she could not have made it up the stairs by herself.

Joe's heart was pounding in his ears almost as loud as her high heeled shoes clip clopped down the upstairs hall. His heart was in his throat as the bedroom door closed behind them. Upstairs, Jenn stood there, petrified as Marcel slid the clothes hangers back and forth along the wood pole. He was talking, but the words escaped her.

"This ought to do it." He said as he dropped several garments on the bed. Jenn sat down on the bed; shivering, not knowing or wanting to figure out the next progression of events. She looked over. There was one garment. It was a dark grey silk button front dress. It was her daughter's. Somehow it had been misplaced into her closet?

"That ... that ... that's not mine; she started to say..." Her words trailed off. She thought better of it. "Does he know I have a fourteen-year-old daughter?" Her blood chilled. "Maybe he doesn't know..." her mind screamed as she timidly reached for the dress. She pulled it over and covered herself with it as she looked up, questioningly at him.

"Put it on." He said. "I'll watch the door for you." It was more of a whisper. It was more of a hiss. She almost couldn't hear it; but the words till stung. She looked around; like he might turn his head or give her some privacy. He had the look of a cobra. He was in front of the door. She had no way out. She turned her back to him. She held the dress in front of her as she began unbuttoning her blouse.

The cobra turned his head, incrementally from side to side. His eyes indicated; "No." Jenn put the dress down and began unbuttoning the blouse. One by one, she pushed each button through the eyelet. It almost didn't dawn on her quite what she was doing until the last one was undone. "Turn around and face me, you magnificent creature."

She hesitated. She turned to face him. She gulped and tried to think of her daughter as she arched her back and slid the shirt over one shoulder; then the other. She tried desperately to bring the garment around in front of her to keep covered. Their eyes locked.

Marcel held out his hand; palm up. Jenn extended her arm and laid the garment in his hand. He threw it over his head; not caring where it landed. He grinned. Her long stemmed coral pink nipples peeked over the top of her quarter-cup bra like two new born sparrows waiting to be fed. Her first instinct was to reach up and cover herself, but his evil gaze told her to keep her arms down. She held the pose; not wanting to wonder what was next.

She caught his gaze drifting down to her slacks. His eyes had some strange Machiavellian grip on her she could not escape. She grabbed the gray dress and started to slip it over her head; thinking she could keep the bra and take her slacks off underneath the dress.

"No fucking way; Miss Stephenson..." That stare needed no explanation.

Holding the grey dress in front of her, she reached behind and unhooked the bra. With her dress in front of her and her arms pinning the bra against her, he was willing to give her this millisecond of reprieve. He held out his hand again; palm up. Jenn locked eyes with him again as she handed him the garment. She sat there on the side of the bed with her arms down in humiliation. The cool air-conditioning made her very aware of what he could see. She felt her nipples rise and harden from the change in temperature. The humiliated woman shuddered waiting for the next order.

Trying not to stand, Jenn undid the sash of her slacks. She tried to bend over to hide herself as she scooted up enough to slide the silk slacks past her knees. She bent over; more to hide herself than to pull the garment out away from her boots.

"Up." She heard him whisper. "Stand."

Jenn was shaking as her knees straightened and pushed her body up from the bed. She couldn't help but cross her arms over her breasts. "The rest." He said. "Take off the rest."

Jenn put her hands over her face and bent over; almost in half at the words. She didn't know if her knees would hold her up. "I've got to get through this. Get them out before they realize I have a daughter." She thought.

Still bent over, Jenn reached up behind her; put her thumb between her hips and the fabric and pushed down. Once past mid-thigh, the wispy garment floated to the floor. Without thinking, she stepped out of it. Again, Marcel held his hand out; palm up. Jenn felt the cool air waft between her legs; robbing her labia of what little moisture might have been there as she bent over to pick up the filmy cover. She handed it to him; trying to summon all the dignity she had as she looked into his eyes. Jenn stood there; naked except for her high-heeled boots and wire rimmed glasses.

She turned to reach for the dress. "Never mind. I'm out of the mood for the dress right now." He said.

"He's going to fuck me." Her mind screamed. Jenn's mouth opened in anguish and her knees started to buckle at the idea. "At least my husband can't see." Her mind seemed to say.

"On second thought, you are too delectable a creature to not be shared with my partner. I remember hearing you say you had dessert ready. Let's go get some. You are a wonderful cook and I am famished." He started to extend his arm out again at his side. Jenn's mind was numb as he guided her forearm around his elbow.

"Wait a minute. You are just too sophisticated and classy a woman to run around just like this." He said as he looked at her. He went over to her make-up table and came back with a strand of pearls and wrapped it around her neck. "That's better." He said.

Joe had been wondering what was going on in the upstairs bedroom. It had been quiet for quite a while now. "He's trying to fuck her." His mind screamed. He was ready to grab a kitchen knife and fly up the stairs. Then they heard the door click as it opened. They heard Jenn's high heels click a few times before the door shut again. Joe and Emil sat up as the clip-clop of her high heels got louder. They stopped for a second or two at the top of the half flight of stairs.

From there, Joe could see Jenn's ankles and part of her calves. "She's changed into a dress." He thought. As each clip-clop brought more of the couple into view, the more of her legs he saw, until he could see her legs past the hem of any dress he knew she had. Joe had some inner sense that there was a hesitation in her steps. Joe's heart almost stopped when he realized she was naked. There was no hem above her thighs where there should have been. His mind went into an additional gear of rage. He watched in mounting indignation as more of his naked wife came into view.

Jenn's mind was spinning out of control; trying to cope with her own humiliation. Now she could see her husband was about to go out of control.

"It's okay, honey. We'll get through this." She didn't say it out loud. She tried to mouth the words subtly and relay it with her eyes and a weak smile she did not feel.

"Mrs. Stephenson has graciously offered to serve us dessert. Aren't you men famished?"

Emil had the smile of a serpent. You couldn't see one. You could feel it; the mocking, menacing look in his eyes, knowing he was about to be treated to something better than crème brule.

The men sat in the living room. In a semi-circle in front of the fireplace were a long brown leather sofa and two leather chairs on each side. Between the fireplace and the sofa was a long glass coffee table. Marcel sat in the center of the sofa. Emil sat in one of the leather chairs to his right and Joe was opposite Emil on the other chair.

The men's heads all turned towards the kitchen door as they heard the clip clop of Jenn's heels approaching. She had a medium sized tray with three large wine glasses filled with chocolate Crème Brule. The Africans smiled as the dessert arrived, but it wasn't about the Crème Brule. They were enchanted with the jiggle of Jenny's long-stemmed coral pink number two erasers that bobbed like manometers a half count off of the clack of her high heels.

Nobody was behind her, but she stooped; bent at the knees to offer the cups of dessert to each of the men. She served Emil first. He may have been the farthest away. Next was Marcel. She wouldn't look at him. Last was Joe.

When she approached him, she heard Marcel's voice. "No bending the knees. Keep your knees straight. Stand with your legs farther apart." The humiliated woman did what she was told. She moved her feet about shoulder width apart.

"Now bend over. Serve your man." Jenn had her legs spread past shoulder length. Her eyes were watering as she bent over at the waist. Her cheeks were burning as she felt her breasts swing free and down. "Look at that Emil. Isn't that about the best sight you have ever seen?" Emil grinned like an eight-year-old with a pillow case full of Halloween candy.

Jenny's eyes met her husband's. "Please don't do anything, hon. There's nothing we can do. We can get through this. We'll be alright." She whimpered. Her tears dripped down her face and onto her breast.

"Well, Mrs. Stephenson, I'm finished with my dessert, now it's time for yours." Jenn turned; put the now empty tray on the fireplace mantel and turned to face Marcel. She couldn't help but cross her hands helplessly over her breasts in nervousness. Marcel extended his arm towards her and wagged his finger for her to approach him. The few steps it took to close the distance took so long, her boots made no noise. Maybe her heart was pounding so hard neither she or Joe heard her boots.

The room was silent except for the water recycling through the fish tank. Jenn stood before him; naked except for her wire rimmed glasses, her boots, her grey silk stockings and double strand of pearls that hung almost to her belly button. They jingled slightly; telegraphing her humiliation and embarrassment.

The three men had had their close look at her. Jenn, in some strange moment of insanity had shaved. She had a narrowed "landing strip above her cleft. From the top of her cleft on down, she was bare. The landing strip was a thing of beauty. The reddish brown tangle was thick and curly in the center. From there it thinned out in number and hue. It went from the reddish brown to an almost clear blonde at the edges. The curls were sparse and almost clear at the edges. They looked like the down on a new baby's face; like Hawaiian fern in the cloud-covered mountain forest that never sees the light of day.

Jenn's body had been tanned and toned from hours at the beach and jogging trails. Her gravity defying long-stemmed pink nipples were triple-framed by the pink areoles, the alabaster white breasts surrounded by her bronzed torso. In the same manner, her shaved labia were framed first by the white bikini line; then the bronzed and freckled abdomen and legs.

Marcel let his legs part. Silently, Marcel pointed: "Down." She took the two steps towards him. Slowly, Jenn sank to her knees between his.

"What do you think desert is going to be?" he whispered. Jenn still had her arms crossed over her breasts. She turned to her husband; looking for some kind of assurances or emotional support; some sign that this would be okay. "Tell me what to do." Her eyes screamed at him. She tried to tell herself she could learn to live with anything as long as her husband knew this wasn't her decision.

She turned questioningly back towards Marcel and looked up into his eyes; hoping for some sign of mercy. She saw none. She looked down at his crotch. It was huge. It was ... moving.

"Tell her what to do, Joe. She doesn't seem to have a clue. Is she a good cocksucker?" There it was. There was no mistaking what was expected of her. She knew; but the words hit her like a hammer. It was so cold when said. Perhaps in the middle of the night; perhaps with enough wine; perhaps in an exceptional mood of passion, she might have. But in front of her husband and in front of two total strangers, she didn't think this would be possible.

But Jenn was beat. She had no escape. She had no realistic plan of escape. She tried to put her mind in a different place; shut herself out of the situation and watch this woman she didn't know. Perhaps her mind could step back and sit on the raised hearth of the fireplace and just watch in indignation. She would watch this whore of a woman who had put on the quarter cup bra and thong for her husband. She had it coming. Marcel was looking at Joe; waiting for him to mimic his words to Jenn. All Joe could do was raise his hands; palms up in resignation as he looked at the floor.

"Tell her you fucking pussy. She needs your fucking approval. You can't just watch her do this for your sake and later tell her you didn't approve. What the fuck is it? Do you want her to do this or not? We aren't forcing her. His words were barely a whisper, but they hit the couple like a clap of lightning.

"Jenn; hon, I ... I ... we ... we ... have no choice. We ... we ... we have to cooperate." His head dropped.

"Fuck you; you weenie. What kind of fucking business man are we dealing with that can't tell his own wife how to behave?" There was a long silence as the men got up to leave. Emil almost gagged. He was so close to the treat of his life. But then he caught it; that wicked gleam in Marcel's eyes as he passed the couch.

Joe cleared his throat. "Please don't go gentlemen. I ... I ... I want you to stay. We want you to stay. My wife wants you to stay. I will tell her." The men stopped, still standing with their backs to the couple. Marcel didn't turn around.

"Why would we stay?" he said; trying to hide his gloating.

"Jenn, honey, I ... I ... I ... want ... want you to ... to ... to suck these gentlemen off..." His words trailed off into a whisper. It was a whisper that Marcel and Emil could hear. It was a whisper that felt like her husband had kicked her in the head and knocked her over. If he hadn't said it, perhaps she would have said: "Please don't leave." She couldn't have spit out the rest, but it would have been understood.

She was still hoping her subconscious mind could take a back seat and just watch; but she couldn't get back and watch. Once the men returned to their original seating, she watched as her hands nervously reached for the clasp on Marcel's belt. She watched as her hands slid the belt loose from the buckle. Who was this that pulled the brass snap open? Didn't she realize what was going to happen? The room was silent as she took the hasp and slid the zipper down his fly.

Marcel reached his left hand up over the back of the sofa. He pushed his right hand down on the arm rest of the sofa to bring his butt up off of the cushion. Jenn did it without hesitation; like when somebody extends their hand for a handshake, nobody thinks about putting their hand out to meet the other.

Jenn just reached up and grabbed the waistband of his Levis and tugged them down past his thighs. Luckily she had turned her head sideways as the pants came free. She would have been slapped in the face with a monster she had never even dreamed existed. As her head was turned, she could see the expression of her husband.

His eyes registered astonishment; perhaps at the size of the thing between Marcel's legs; perhaps that his wife seemed so willingly complicit. Was she reluctant? Was she embarrassed? Her expression did not give any indication of her emotions. Jenn pulled away. She turned towards him. The pants would not come off unless the shoes came first. Jenn pulled back; thankful for the reprieve as she reached for his shoelaces. Slowly she untied and unlaced the tops of his shoes. With perhaps more effort and care than needed, she took each shoe; each sock off and arranged them neatly beside him at the foot of the sofa.

Once his feet were free, she tugged his slacks off and folded them neatly over his shoes. "Anything to procrastinate" her mind screamed. Perhaps she was procrastinating again. Perhaps this was an unintended gesture of erotica. She stood, walked into the kitchen and filled a porcelain bowl with warm water. When she came back into the room she had another tray. It had several washrags, the bowl of warm water, soap and hand lotion.

"What the fuck is she thinking?" her husband's mind screamed. He watched her set the tray on the glass coffee table behind her. She dipped a washrag into the water and wrung it out.

She glanced over at her husband. Her eyes seemed to indignantly say "You understand we seem to have no choice in this matter." as she grabbed the shaft in her left hand. Softly she rubbed the warm wet cloth in her right hand over the tip. She looked up at him; looking for some response.

"My husband has spent most of his free time the last several years working on these ideas he is trying to patent." She said as she straightened it up against his abdomen. "If ... if ... if I do this, I desperately need to know that we have a deal." She whispered; unsure whether to look him in the eye or keep her focus on cleaning him.

Was she cleaning him? Was this a form of foreplay? At some level, Jenn must have been trying to emotionally connect with him as she ran the moist cloth up the side of it. She lowered it to face her and again slowly caressed the top and sides with the cloth. She forced herself to meet his gaze; trying to read his thoughts. Was he excited? Was he in rapture? Was he just a two timing crook who would fuck her and run? She had to know. Each time she finished a sentence, she looked up at him again to make eye contact. Each time she touched him; each time she rubbed the warm wet towel across the soft skin, she felt it jerk and jolt. Every movement brought an increase in the girth and length. "This will never fit." Her mind screamed.

"Mister Okanda; can't ... can't ... can't we go back upstairs? I beg you not to force me in front of my husband." She whispered while looking imploringly into his eyes.

"Miss Stephenson; I'm sure nobody is forcing you."

"Joe; your beautiful wife here seems to feel we are making her do something against her will. She may even think you don't approve. Tell her again, Joe. Tell her nobody has to do anything. She doesn't have to suck my dick. I don't have to help you get all your funding. We are all free souls here."

Joe was silent. He couldn't bring himself to say it any louder; especially with his wife looking at him.

"Well, maybe we should go home Emil. I think we can go back to the hotel and get this kind of action for a fraction of what this agreement could have turned into. Emil smiled and bent over to get up. Marcel bent over to reach for his clothes.

"Jenn; hon; this could make or break us..."

"That's not good enough, you turd. She needs to know you're okay with this. She needs to know this is what she has to do. She needs to know that you want her to suck my dick. Emil is over there. He wants to see my thing go in and out of her mouth. He wants to see her mouth open when it happens. He wants to see all that stuff go into her open mouth. She needs to know she has to swallow it. How can all this happen with her long hair in the way?"

"She needs to know that you will keep her hair pulled back so Emil can get some good pictures; to see her sucking on me."

Joe was appalled. Perhaps if he hadn't been around. Perhaps if he had found out later what she might have done to help get the patents; to keep from losing the farm, maybe he could have forgiven her for it. But with the words slapping him across his face, it was hard to speak the words of consent.

Jenn had put the washcloth down by now. She was staring at her husband; unable to comprehend that he would actually consider telling her what to do. On the other hand, maybe she didn't need to be told. She knew they had no options. She turned and reached for the bottle of hand lotion. She looked at her husband; waiting.

"Jenn, honey. We ... we ... we have no choice. I ... I ... I ... I want you to do what he says. We are so close to getting the things we want ... I ... I ... I ... will ... will ... hold your hair back so you don't get it into anything."

It may not have been the exact words Marcel had wanted to force out of him. In the end, it was a sign of capitulation from both of them. He watched as the light seemed to go out of Jenn's eyes. She looked hard at him; searching for signs of compassion or regret. She looked up at Marcel. She tried not to let the tears flow, but she couldn't help it. He could see a couple of tears streak down her cheeks; off of her chin and down over her breasts.

Resigned, the reluctant wife was giving up.

Jenn held the thing in her left hand as she looked up at Marcel for his reaction as she laid her cheek against the side of it. She kept her eyes focused on him as she slid her cheek back and forth; massaging the length of him. Her hands had been covered with lotion. She had coated him with it too. He was smooth as a baby's butt and smelled about the same.

She squeezed it firmly. She moved her hands along the shaft; slowly squeezing and releasing to find another spot. She kept eye contact with him, watching his expression. She released her grip and slowly ran her fingertips up and down his shaft; barely touching him. She wrapped her left hand fingers as far around the girth as she could. She took the loose skin and pushed it down to the base and squeezed tightly as she pulled her closed grip back up towards the crown; turning her grip slowly. She watched him. Next she gave him a few quicker pumps while her right fingers squeezed the very tip. As she was pumping him she lowered her face; her lips almost touching and blew her breath on the end while maintaining eye contact. She could see his eyes flicker. She could see his head go back. She felt the flash. Emil was right beside her now. Was he taking stills or was he taking video?

Jenn's face turned crimson. "Where would these pictures end up?" she wondered. Jenn leaned her left armpit over his thigh for support and barely held on to the base with her left hand. She had her chin just above his thigh; watching his expression. She had her thumb and forefinger gently wrapped around his shaft. She had her thumb against the canal along the bottom of his shaft. She stroked him; loose and soft going down; hard and tight pulling away towards the crown and twisting as she went. She heard him groan. Her hair was now hanging over his shaft so the camera could not capture the whole scene.

She felt her husband come up beside her to her left. She felt him reach around her right side and gather her hair and pull it back; exposing her face and the monster shaft to Emil's camera on her right. The camera probably had sound recording capacity too. It was close enough to catch the "gurgling" and "slacking" sound of the coated shaft sliding through her fingers. The camera was surely catching her face in the same frame with the monster phalanx as her hand slid slowly up and down it.

"It's fucking time. Show us what your tongue can do."

Jenn looked up at him as she put her lips against it. She let her lips touch it. She left them there, gauging his expression for approval. She kissed the end softly without breaking eye contact. She watched him blink. The serpent's stare was disappearing. She could feel the monster in her fingers jolt. She extended her tongue and tentatively swirled it around the circumference of his crown.

"Good fucking God! Where did she learn that?" Joe screamed to himself. They had been married close to 20 years. Anytime the situation came up, she slid away from him and turned over. It wasn't that she wouldn't give him a handjob, she just wouldn't use her mouth. Everything was fine when he did it to her, but she wouldn't reciprocate. "It just isn't right." She would say as she would shiver at the thought. It had been a festering issue in their marriage. It had been normal with all of his other girlfriend; some many years younger than him. Most of them preferred to do this as it kept the possibility of pregnancy away.

He watched her in wonder. How had she learned to act this way? He watched her hardly believing what he was seeing. Jenn opened her mouth as far as she could. With her eyes focused on Marcel, she squeezed her lips together; her cheeks hollowed and she pulled away from him with her lips, stopping before the tip came out. She would tighten her fingers as far around the base as she could get them. She would pull the "O" towards the tip as she again brought her lips loosely back over the edge of his crown. She did it very slowly; very sensuously; watching his expression the whole time.

She did not look to Joe like a woman deep in humiliation, anguish or reluctance. She looked like the tender caring wife he had known for twenty years. Joe was torn inside; wrongly reading her humiliation and desperation as erotic rapture.

Jenn knew she had no way out; no escape. Get them both out of this house before they somehow discover they have a daughter. She had to do something for the sake of her husband's work. She tried to shut her mind to what she was doing. She was forcing her motherly nature to kick in; to abandon everything she thought to be right.

Emil watched, bursting with excitement; knowing he was next. Never before had he ever seen a woman with the pink nipples the size of hers. Never before had he seen a woman of her age, who had aged no more than a teenager. He was mesmerized with her.

Emil watched as she pulled out on the loose skin of Marcel's penis. She pulled it until it all collected at the edge of his crown. When she got that far, she opened her mouth and moved it back against the crown; never breaking eye contact with his evil partner. Now as she brought her hand back and forth along the shaft, she used a twisting motion.

This time she pulled back far enough to get her mouth off of him. "I need a second to catch my breath." She said as she twisted her head sideways to break the strand of spittle and semen that connected her to it. He could see the embarrassment in her expression that the strands had connected them. "I ... I ... I ... I'll get used to it. Just give me a little more time." She whispered as she looked first up at Marcel, then to each side at her husband and Emile.

Her furtive glance caught the outrage in her husband's eyes. She could see Emile was excited and anxious. Both expressions bothered her. She turned to grab the washcloth. She used it to clean the clear mucous from her fingers and the end of him. "It's starting; it's going to happen." Her mind screamed. "Do I have to swallow?" she wondered. "Can I just finish him with my hand and let it go on the floor?" she wondered.

Jenn's humiliation caught up with her as she felt her husband's hands repositioning themselves; trying to keep her hair away from her face. It was humiliating enough to have him in the same room. This was beyond humiliating; having him hold her hair back so everybody could watch her suck the thing. She used her free hand to wipe the tears from her eyes and push her wire frame glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

Jenn changed the focus of her eyes. She focused on the angry colored crown just inches from her lips. It reminded her of a cobra; the curl of semen looking like the forked tongue. With her distraught imagination, it was not hard to visualize the eyes, mouth and tongue flickering at her.

She took another last breath to calm herself. Softly she kissed the end and looked up at Marcel to see how it would go over. The exchange of glances and tender manners of his wife was not lost on Joe. He watched in exponential outrage at the exchange. "Look like you're fucking outraged." His mind screamed to her.

"What the fuck is she doing now?" her astonished husband wondered. Joe watched as she turned her head almost straight up to watch Marcel. She extended her tongue out as far as she could and flattened it. The very tip curled up, like a spoon to brace the end of him and to catch what she knew to be coming. Something was happening.

The two seemed to be on the same wavelength. Jenn had felt the monster in her left hand start to throb even more; like the rails of a train when it is about to run over you. She felt the thunder coming. With the first blast, Jenn had squeezed her thumb hard into the canal along the bottom of his shaft. She felt one blast; like an earthquake. She let them build up. She could feel him moan before she heard it.

He grabbed her head; trying to force his shaft clear down her throat. Somehow, Jenny knew this was coming. She used both hands; one above the other, like the grip on a baseball bat. She braced her wrists against her open jaw; preventing him from shoving the creature all the way in. Instead, she relaxed the grip of her thumb; slightly, letting the first convulsion out. She had miscalculated. She thought it would dribble harmlessly out onto the edge of her outstretched tongue.

Instead, the first geyser exploded over the top of her lip; up her nose; into her eyes and over her forehead and into her hair.

"Open up! ... Farther." Jenn was humiliated. Her pink pearl nipples were arching almost straight up as she tilted her head back. She released again, but not completely. The next eruption caught on the roof of her mouth and almost chocked her to death. She struggled not to turn away in disgust. Her eyes were closed, but she could feel the streams of fluid filling her tongue and mouth. She would soon have to swallow in order to breathe.

"Do I have to breathe with my mouth open? Do I close my mouth and swallow everything? Without any direction, Jenny closed her lips over the tip to contain the eruption; to keep it from getting all over her. They wanted to see the eruption and they had. Jenn released her strangulation grip on the canal and let the fluid empty into her. She swallowed to keep from gagging. Finally she blocked the tip with her tongue as she took breaths through her nose.

"Don't forget to lick him clean. Get everything." The words hit her like a hammer. Her husband was now telling her what to do without being ordered. She could feel the outrage and anger in his voice.

"Where did you learn to do that; hon?" It was an angry voice. "This isn't your first rodeo, is it?" he said in an angry whisper. Who have you been sucking off? Have you been doing something I don't know about?"

Jenn let go of the penis in her hand. She was sitting on the floor; the high heels of her boots spread to her cheeks toutched the ground. She put her hands over her face and laid her face on her knees. She sobbed in humiliation; knowing her husband had guessed right. Marcel wasn't the first.

"Tell me; cunt. When did this start?" Joe's hurt and humiliation was coming out as anger now.

Jenn's back shuddered as she sobbed. Her words were almost unintelligible. They were muffled with her hands.

"Get the fuck over here Emile. You're next." Joe said; taking over as the aggressor for Marcel. "Get the fuck up, young lady. You aren't done yet."

Jenn felt the hands of her husband pulling her up to a standing position. He turned her around; facing away from Marcel, but still between his knees. Jenn would not remove her hands from her face. Her sobbing was getting worse. "I ... I ... I'm so sorry you had to find out like this, hon." Jenny stammered.

Joe's eyes and head motion let Emil know he was to stand in front of Joe's sobbing wife. When he was there, Joe looked down at the coffee table. "Move it over behind you." He told Emile. Emile wasn't sure where this was all going, but he wasn't about to complain.

"Bend over and sit on Marcel, you cock sucking bitch." He told his wife. Jenn sobbed as she bent over. Her long pearl necklace dangled away from her body. Her beautiful breasts swung free except that she used her hands over her face to also shield her breasts. Jenn lowered her hands to Marcel's thighs, trying to feel the spot she was expected to sit on.

"He's not hard yet. Give him some encouragement that only you know how to do. Jenn sobbed in humiliation. She reached around with her right hand, searching for the giant phallus. She backed up once she founded it and bent her knees; feebly trying to sit on his lab.

"Get it hard bitch." Jenn straightened her fingers out. Softly; daintily she ran the long narrow fingers of her right hand along the soft shaft. Marcel wasn't ready, but the strange twist in events was starting to excite him.

Jenn was standing with her butt in the air. Her head was almost to her knees as she ran her fingers softly along the quickly growing phalynx. Soon she could tell he was back to full strength. "I had no fucking idea how good you are, hon. Now you're going to fuck like you like it."

Jenn's back shuddered to echo her sobbing. "P ... p ... please, Joe; don't treat me like this. I thought I had no choice in this matter."

"Shut the fuck up and sit. Guide him in. Help him out."

Jenn was openly sobbing now. Her pearl necklace rattled. Her coral pink nipples shuddered in humiliation.

She moved her legs a little farther apart, knowing what was expected. "I don't think you're quite in the mood, honey. You aren't really lubricated enough. Play with yourself." Her hands went back to her face.

Marcel was enjoying this. Gently he took her right hand and brought it down. He took her hand and closed her fingers to make a fist. Then he took her index finger and pointed it straight out. Jenn was too humiliated to resist. With her head down close to her knees, Marcel took her index finger and touched it against her slit.

"If you don't want it to hurt, make yourself ready." Her husband said. Never in her life had she played with herself; let alone do something like this in front of her husband.

"W ... w ... why are you doing this?" she stammered.

"I had no fucking idea how good you are at sucking cock. After all of your high and mighty coy attitude with me, I can see you've put somebody else into orbit with what you know. Now sit on it. Show us how much you like it."

Joe went over and stood against her. He pushed her finger gently but firmly against her opening. He put his lips against her ear and whispered: "Maybe you'd like to save a little of the entertainment for your daughter to fill."

The words hit her like a lightning bolt. He knew her so well that he knew how to hurt her. Not that he might have actually done it, but he was so angry, he wanted to annihilate her ego.

"Okay; okay; okay..." her words trailed off.

Jenn reached up behind her. With her head down she slowly inserted her index finger. It disappeared from view; slowly, like a submarine dives. You don't realize it at first, but it slowly disappears from view. Jenn pushed slowly until one whole digit disappeared. Then she tried to move it back and forth; like she was tunneling around for something. She groaned. Was it in disgust with herself? Was she moaning in anguish or rapture. None of the men cared. It was exciting to them.

"Mmmmmmmmmmm." Jenn turned her head from side to side. The men could hear the "Squish; squish," air and moisture as it went in, out and around her finger. Jenn put her left hand against her knees; still bent over. Her other hand went back over her face. She wiped her nose; then her eyes.

"You ready?" Jenn nodded. It was like the bid in an auction. You had to already know the answer to perceive the motion.

"Yesss." Came the anguished whisper.

Marcel repositioned her. He spread her legs outside of his. He put one hand on each of her hips and guided her down.

"Help." Joe said.

Jenn looked down for a split second as she used her right hand to locate his shaft. With her legs splayed over his, she started to sit down across his thighs. Her right hand steadied the tip of his monster phallus at the opening. She groaned in humiliation and anguish as she moved down and the monster disappeared between them. "He's going to fucking kill me with that thing." Her mind screamed. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think something of that length and girth would ever fit in her. She struggled to keep from screaming. Finally she felt her thighs against his.

"You're not done yet Miss Stephenson." Her husband sneered. "Emile; it's your turn to shine. Get over here." Emile was giddy. He moved to stand in front of Jennifer. He had already removed his clothes in anxious anticipation of whatever was to happen.

"Jenny, honey, babby. Show us what only you know how to do so well. She could feel the heat of Emile right in front of her. She didn't have to open her eyes to know what was millimeters from her face. She recognized the smell. It was not an unclean smell. It was a savage smell. There was something alien about this smell.

"Sit." Joe said. Without questioning anything, Emile sat down on the glass coffee table. His more than six foot frame seemed to take up most of the area around Jennifer. It was an awkward position.

She was sitting on Marcel's lap. He was sitting on a couch that was at least 24" high. His thighs put her butt up another 9" that left her body foot higher? She had to bend over with her head down, pretty much between her legs to reach his monster phallus.

"Jenn reached out with her right hand to stroke him; to asses the situation. Emile scooted the coffee table a little closer so he was easier to reach. Never the less, it was an awkward angle.

"I ... I ... this is very awkward. Can't I take care of the two of you separately?" first she looked up at Emile. Then she looked over at her husband. "P ... p ... please, hon; can't you allow me any dignity? Aren't I doing this for both of us?"

She couldn't bare to look at him. Hearing no answer, she knew it was a "No."

Slowly, Jennifer struggled to lean forward. She brought the immense shaft up to her lips. She kissed it tenderly; too tenderly to suit her husband, who watched in a blind rage. Jenn looked over at her husband who was now the one to appease. She kept her gaze locked on him as she opened her mouth and covered the head. She pulled back and swirled her tongue around the head in front of her.

That is when the key clicked in the lock and the door opened. "Hi, Mom and Dad. I'm home early. Our camp out got rained out. My cell phone is dead and Sally's mom brought me home.

But that; as they say, is another story...


Gold Member
Invitation to the Party

by expatdad

Copyright© 2008 by expatdad

Thomas fretted.

He shouldn't fret, he told himself, but he did.

The course of his fretting was his wife Suzanne.

In the five years of the marriage he had no need to fret, or to worry. It was more troubling therefore to fret now. Not that his wife had not been anything less than the perfect wife. Loving, caring, understanding and supportive. Scarcely an ill word had passed between them in five years. She was as lovely now as she was when they had met seven years earlier. Her skin was the same soft white, not quite creamy complexion. Her brown hair, short and smart, not overly fancy. Her waist was slim in relation to her build. His wife was not exactly slim, but was certainly well rounded and shapely. Junoesque might be the word, but perhaps that would give the impression of her being larger than she was. Her derriere was a constant source of delight. Tightly packed in jeans it would turn anyone's head. She certainly knew how to wriggle when she walked, and yet she did so with a natural grace that belied the sexiness of the round trembling cheeks of her bottom. Her bust did not appear large, until her top was removed. Then the firm, round, jutting, pink tipped breasts could fill any man's fantasy.

Her eyes were blue, though two years unemployment had deadened them a bit. Those two years had been hard but she had stood by him, with no criticism. Who would have thought just 4 months ago that he would be working again! Not just working but in a senior position.

That it was in Africa was the icing on the cake.

But he fretted.

His wife was dancing with another man.

Another man's hands rested of those lovely round hips.

Her arms rested on his shoulder as they gently moved together.

It was not just any other man. She was dancing with his boss.

His boss!

Peter Thorenssen was a masterful man. He was charismatic and powerful in the sense of influence and in his presence. As Regional Party Chief for Zanu-PF he had used his connections to purchase Thorenssen Electrics. Forcing the previous owner into sell though a combination of 'created' bankruptcy, bribery, andbackhanders until the previous owner had broken down and died. Some say Peter did more than buy the business. There were dark rumours, but Thomas tried to dismiss them. People loved to gossip in Zimbabwe, especially matters sordid. The local whites may not approve of relationships between Africans and white, but that did not stop them gossip mongering.

Thomas did not believe the rumors.

He had worked for Peter Thorenssen for two months now. During that time he had found him professional, competent, sharp, and very able. Masterful yes. He knew what he wanted and got what he wanted. Any who crossed his path were punished in no uncertain way. You may think you had scored a point against Peter in a business deal, but there would be a price exacted for that point, later if not immediate. If the truth were told Thomas had a certain fear of Peter. While he recognized his ability, that underlying animal wildness was just below the surface.

A lion that would eat any prey who got in his way. Perhaps a bull would be a better description. Peter was very physically powerful, almost repellently so Peter thought. Huge bulging muscled arms, broad shoulders, thick neck. He looked at first glance like a professional heavyweight boxer. The smart Saville Row suits, and silk ties from Burlington Arcade bought on his annual trip to London, together with the heavy gold cufflinks allegedly made specially for him by Garrard's, the Queens Jewellers served to provide a sophistication that impressed most who met him.

Had very much impressed his wife, who danced with him now, slow and close.

After two months working with him Thomas had almost forgotten that Peter was black.

Very black!

Watching his wife dance in his arms brought to the surface buried primitive fears.

The rumors of the Thorenssen take over were dark. The original Peter Thorenssen had not been willing to sell. Kizeki had tried lots of tricks to ruin the company in advance of his bid, but the owner had refused. A week before Kizeki bought the company, the owner had died of a massive coronary. He had no previous heart history. His grieving window had submitted to pressure and signed the Sale Agreement. Within a week she herself was dead. Food poisoning was the official reason. More straightforward poisoning according to others. But that did not ring true. The former owners two daughters had received the monies from the sale. Rebecca,16, and Julie,17. Kizeki, had adopted them as his own, ensured they received proper advice on investing the monies. Indeed they both now worked for Thorenssen Electrics in Marketing and Public Relations. Though Thomas had never seen them. They seemed too young for marketing. He had asked Bukei Farang about the girls. Bukei had looked at him incredulously.

'Marketing ... yes marketing.' He had roared with laughter. Then trundled off down the corridor mumbling about marketing and giggling to himself.

Thomas sipped his drink. It was a Pimm's No1 served in a pint Jug.

He glanced at his wife.She was happy at least. After two difficult economic years this job had been a godsend. They needed it. Suzanne had started to blossom again in the last two months since their arrival in Zimbabwe. He was not going to make a scene and cloud that happiness.

Watching his wife dance with Peter, he did not see a simple matter of his wife dancing with his boss at a quite get together for the senior company's managers. Instead he saw his lovely, gorgeous wife dancing with a black!

He struggled to combat the sudden prejudice.

After two months they had both grown used to the casual determined gropes that Suzanne's curvy derriere received in the supermarket. The sudden press of bodies in a crowded mall followed by a hand darting in and squeezed one of her breasts. They both knew what to expect from black men in Africa. Now his wife danced with one. Though Peter was a world apart from the African men who thronged the shopping arcades.

All of Peter's sophistication and wealth could not hide the fact that Peter was black.

Blacks lusted after pretty white women like his wife Suzanne!

Thomas fought back his fears. He was being irrational he told himself. Peter was a professional, a cut above the rest. He was his boss, a man apart. Someone special.

Thomas fretted.

He sipped again and glanced around the room. His wife was not the only wife dancing. The four other wives of his fellow expat manager's who were present were also up and dancing. Sarah was dancing. She was the wife of one of the Engineers. She was not dancing with her husband she was dancing with Faria, the African Accounts Director.

Likewise Pamela was dancing with Bukei Farang, the Engineer Director, though Peter had yet to discover any engineering ability in Bukei. He certainly had the ability to create fear in the workforce. Peter doubted he had even a basic understanding of calculus. Pretty little Diana was just 19, and only married for six months. Yet the way she was hugging close to Robert Mushedi, you would be mistaken for thinking her besotted with him.

'Hi honey.'

Thomas jumped at his wife's voice at his shoulder. He flushed guiltily at being caught by his wife just as he was ogling the girl's lovely bust. He turned to his wife. His face felt very red.Suzanne did not seem to notice. Her eyes were alight with a fire he had not seen in a long time. Her face seemed to glow.

'Here, honey. I've brought you a new drink.'She handed him a new Pimm's. He sipped and gasped.

'You have made it pretty strong!'

Suzanne grinned and gave him a hug. She held him close. She smelled lovely. Her firm breasts pushed into him. She kissed him lightly.

'I love you, ' she whispered. Thomas felt his heart leap at the words. He leaned forward and kissed her gently.

'I love you, too.'

'Honey, can we have a little chat?'

'Of course, what's on your mind?'

'Not here, let's go into the kitchen.'

Suzanne took his hand in hers. Her hand seemed soft and caressing as she led him into the kitchen. She flashed a flustered smile at Peter as they passed.Thomas allowed himself to be led by the hand into the kitchen.

In the kitchen she put down her drink on one of the marble surfaces. She looked flustered, unsure where to start.Thomas put down his own drink and took her into his arms.

'I love you, ' he repeated. Suzanne smiled. She looked a little nervous.

'I love you too, honey. I've always loved you, and still do.' He smiled back at her, their eyes meeting.

'Honey, do you remember when we got married?'Thomas smiled.

'Of course, how could I possibly forget?' They smiled at each other Suzanne looked radiant, almost glowing. It reminded him of their wedding day.

'Before we got married ... I was not sure ... I had some doubts.' Suzanne was almost whispering.

'But surely not now, honey?' Thomas though nervous about where this was leading could not believe that Suzanne felt any different. If anything the last five years had brought them closer. Removed doubts.

'No, not now.' She smiled at Thomas. 'No doubts ... I love you ... and only you.'

Thomas grinned like a schoolboy. Suzanne frowned and flushed. It was going to hurt, and she did not want to hurt him.

'Before I accepted your proposal you made some promises.'

Thomas felt his heart stop.

Surely not!

Not now!

Suzanne could see the consternation on her husband's face. She flushed, but it was too late now. She remembered Peter, dancing close, she remembered.

'He's huge, honey, I mean Huge Huge!' Her eyes seemed to light up again.

'At first I didn't realize. I thought he was trying to embarrass me, but ... but ... God it's huge.' She looked at Thomas who looked stricken.

'I thought it was a joke, that he was playing a trick on me! I thought how childish, a grown man putting a cucumber on his trousers and then rubbing it against me.'

Thomas swallowed.

'But ... it was incredible honey ... it was a real ... a cock. It was soft! But now it's not so ... soft. It's very definitely a cock! Honey, honey, ' her voice was soft coaxing.

'I still love you ... I ... I just have to find out.'

Thomas was in turmoil. He had indeed promised. Five years ago he had promised. He had thought Suzanne might not marry him. Might go out and find someone else, and that he would lose her. So he had promised. Five years of happiness, through some difficulties, but the strength of their love had held through. He had forgotten.


Gold Member
He had promised if she ever met a man with a really big cock, he would not stop her from discovering what it would be like to try such a cock. He looked into her eyes. She was troubled, excited, concerned, and there was a fire in her eyes.

'I did promise.' He swallowed.

'He ... he ... he really is big. God big is not the word. He is bloody huge.' She released Thomas from her hug and held up her hands, at least 12 inches apart.

'God and he is thick too.' Her fingers circled, she had to use two hands. Thomas looked sceptical. Suzanne grinned at him.

'You will let me then... '

Thomas struggled to speak. His stomach was lurching. His mind was in torment.

'You promised.'

'But honey he's my Boss. Couldn't you find someone else?'

Suzanne shook her head.

'Everyone I work with will know... ' Suzanne just smiled at him.

'What do you think it will be like working for a man who has slept with my wife?'

'Perhaps it will be easier for you, after all it might be said that he owes you a favor, if you give your permission for him to bed me.'

Bed me. The words rolled around his head. Bed me.

His glorious lovely wife with that Black Bull Peter Thorenssen, the image was disturbing, shocking, but at the same time erotic. His lovely wife with a huge black cock stuffed up her!

He had promised after all.

He nodded.

Suzanne squealed and bounded forward to squeeze him in a bear hug.

'Oh thank you, honey. I'll make it up to you. I promise.' Her eyes met his. She was flushed, a rose pink hue. Her eyes flashed with passion and excitement. She looked into his eyes.

'I'll do more than just make it up to you. You just wait and see.'

She turned and headed for the door. Then paused. She seemed to think for a moment then turned back to Thomas.

'I made you a promise too.'

Thomas looked confused.

'I promised never to remove my knickers for another man, or allow another man to remove them.'

Thomas smiled in memory. It seemed so long ago now, so pointless. It contradicted his promise. Suzanne stood looking at him, her legs slightly spread. She looked speculative. Was she not after all going to go through with this?

'You will have to take them off.'

She said it so casually.

Thomas nearly choked

Suzanne grinned at him.

'Come on, honey, take them off.'

Thomas lurched towards Suzanne, suddenly unsteady on his feet.

Suzanne reached to steady him, and then pushed his shoulders down.

He dropped to his knees.

Suzanne watched him, an expectant excitement on her face.

He reached under her skirt. Sliding his hands up her shapely bare legs. His hands reached her panties, and he paused. He looked up at Suzannewho grinned excitedly at him.His hands circled her bottom, cupping and slightly squeezing her resilient, soft, and curvy bottom.

He paused again.

Could he really do this?

His turmoil could not be greater. He was kneeling at his wife's feet. His hands poised to remove her panties so that another man could fuck her. He must be mad! He imagined her lovely full thighs parted. Imagined the huge, monster, black cock she had described probing and sliding inside his precious wife. Her full white breasts grasped and squeezed by a lust filled Peter Thorenssen.

'If you don't take them off ... I won't do it... '

Thomas swallowed. He had promised. He looked at his wife. There was such excitement in her eyes. If he did not do this, would she always live with that regret? He would break his promise, and he had no wish to ever break his promise to Suzanne. He did not want to live with reproachful looks. He trembled.

His hands slid the silky French knickers over her the soft curve of her bottom. They caught briefly at her vulva, and he paused again. If he pulled them away no it would be to allow another man access to ... to...

He delayed no longer. Suzanne's panties slithered down her legs.

Thomas took some time to recover himself and gather his thoughts. He finished his drink and poured himself another.

Eventually it seemed like forever, he rejoined the 'party.'

His wife was still dancing with Peter. There was no sign of Pamela, Diana, Sarah, or Penelope. Roger and Viscount Lennox continued their chess game. Rick watched sipping his drink. Thomas turned to look at Suzanne. Perhaps she had changed her mind after all. Peter saw him looking, and with a casual nonchalance slid his large hands cupped Suzanne's bottom and squeezed. He seemed suddenly surprised. His hands caressed that lovely, curving derriere as though exploring. He had discovered she was no longer wearing panties. He turned to Suzanne and whispered n her ear.

She looked up and nodded, she glanced briefly at Thomas and then nodded.

Peter looked across in surprise at Thomas and grinned. Suzanne could not see that grin.It was simply a lusting grin at Thomas. All the time he caressed Suzanne's lovely round bottom.

He turned to meet Suzanne's gaze. Lowered his lips, and kissed her. Oh No! Not in front of his work colleagues. Thomas nearly groaned, but the others were studiously ignoring the scene. Except for Rick. Rick was enjoying watching Peter grope Suzanne. Thomas felt affronted, but at the same time helpless.

Peter slid his arm around Suzanne's waist and led her from the room.Thomas started to follow, stopped, started, and dithered. Eventually he followed the pair out of the room. He was just in time to see one of the bedroom doors close. He followed to the door and stopped.

His wife was behind that door.

Behind that door with another man.

A Black man.

With a huge ... so huge cock!

His hand reached for the door handle, but his hand fell back to his side.

He had promised.

He reached again for the door handle. His mind was full of confusing images. His stomach lurched. His hand dropped back to his side again. She would not forget if he interrupted. He had promised. Let her get it out of her system...

He turned and with a heavy heart, and racing mind returned to the lounge.

He needed another drink!

He joined Rick in watching the chess game. Viscount Lennox gave him an understanding look. Young Roger looked upset, fighting back tears and trying to focus on the game. Rick spoke.

'It's always the same I'm afraid. If you work for an African employer, it is best not to be married or have attractive daughters.' Thomas grimaced.

Rick looked at Thomas, there was amusement in his eyes.

'It's always like this in Africa. Once they have had a black cock up them white women just won't say no to the black bastards.' His voice seemed more humorous than angry. 'Just something you have to learn to live with if you want to be successful in Africa.'

Thomas did not want to be successful, but he could not afford to lose this job.

'I was unemployed for two years before this job... '

Rick nodded.

'It was 18 months for me. With Mike it was three years.'

'Never worked a day in my life before this job. Damn Inland Revenue! Just grateful Peter wanted a Viscount working for him... '

'That's what Peter looks for in his recruits. Dependency. A desperate need for a job, but with a pretty wife. The fact that we have been unemployed for two years probably makes it easier for him to seduce our wives. Now if you have a pretty daughter or two he will offer more money.'

It was an hour before Suzanne appeared.

She positively glowed.

'Hi honey. Can we go now.' Her eyes passed to the other men briefly. Wondering how much they knew.

'Of course.' Thomas was relieved. He had heard rumors about the staying power of Africans. Perhaps it was just another of those idle rumors. He put down his drink.

The car journey home was strange.

Suzanne was embarrassed, concerned for Thomas, and very excited. Effusive over Peter's size and thickness and how wonderful it had been.

As they arrived home Suzanne instructed Thomas to leave the gate open.Thomas looked at Suzanne with surprise. They always carefully locked the gates at night to discourage burglars. Suzanne flushed.

'It's Peter. He will be calling around later as soon as he has sent everyone home.'

'But ... I thought ... surely ... haven't you already done it?'

'Well ... sort of ... but he hasn't finished yet.' She paused for a moment.

'He said he was so impressed with me that he was going to send everyone home so that he could have a real special time with me.'

She strolled into the house. Leaving behind a stunned and troubled Thomas.

'You had better clean up the villa. Can't have your boss finding it in this state.'

Suzanne headed for the bathroom as Thomas looked around. What did she mean? The villa looked fine. They had a houseboy for clearing up. He scratched his head. At this moment he was not quite ready to gather his thoughts and discuss this rationally with Suzanne.


Thomas turned form his contemplations and headed for their bedroom. Once inside he stopped and stared. Suzanne was sitting at the dressing table, putting the last touches to her eyes. In just a few minutes she had made herself look stunning. Not that it needed much. She was a lovely woman. Her face was a delight to look at. A touch to her lips, a touch to her eyes and she could make any man feel weak with desire. She was sitting in her bra alone. It was a thin lacy thing that did little to hide the firm, thrusting flesh of her mature jutting breasts. Her panties lay by the bed. A lacy frivolity! Nevertheless she always looked ravishing to Thomas. Tonight she was preparing herself to look ravenous for his black boss.

'Here, honey, I need some help.'

'I'm feeling a bit sore, will you lick me better.' There was a sexy sultry tone to her voice, that set his heart racing.

'Come here honey, I want you to kneel in front of me by the mirror so I can watch you lick me in the mirror.'

Thomas swallowed and headed for Suzanne. He never knew when his wife was teasing but now was not a moment to question. Her impish mischievous grin melted him. She was kidding him. She wouldn't ask him to do that after she had been with another man. Perhaps nothing had happened after all. Perhaps Peter was not coming and she was preparing herself for me.

Thomas dropped to his knees in front of his wife.

She did look a bit red and puffed. Her hand gently stroked his hair as she urged him forward.

'Lick me good and then I'll be able to put these on.' Her hands dangled the lacy panties.

Thomas moved forward and commenced licking. Nervously. She tasted sweet. Her usual taste. He licked again and Suzanne gasped. It was not a problem he realized, and licked all over her moist vulva, lapping up her juices.Susanne's passion was rising. She grasped his head and pulled him close.

He liked when she was forceful when he was licking her. It added to his excitement. This was a total reversal from his usual role. So when she became more demanding the change excited Thomas.

His tongue darted inside her, then recoiled in sudden worry. He relaxed she tasted normal. His tongue darted in again. Suzanne gripped his head hard. She pinned him between her full shapely thighs.

'Lick! Lick! Deeper. Shove your tongue right in!'

Thomas licked harder and deeper. His own excitement rising.

Suzanne started bucking her hips.

'Hold still.' she demanded.

'Hold still.' Thomas froze in position. His mouth open, tongue extended. Suzanne's hips seemed to buck as she squeezed her muscles and thrust her wet centre backwards and forwards across his tongue and open mouth.

Something spurted.

He gagged.

Suzanne wailed, and a flood of juice seemed to pour onto his tongue and into his mouth.

This was not sweet.

It was pungent, thick, and masculine.

He struggled to free himself, but Suzanne seemed to have gone wild as she bucked against his face.

'Oh God, ' she gasped. 'Oh God, so sexy.'

Thomas did not think it was so sexy. His mouth seemed to fill with the juices now pouring out of his wife. Against his will he could feel the pungent, viscous liquid slide down his throat.

'Lick!' Suzanne demanded.

Her hands tugged sharply on his hair. Her thighs clamped his head tight. He was going to choke. He swallowed, struggled and his tongue shot out. It was the only way he was going to get air! His tongue dived into her pussy. She eased her grip.

'Keep licking!' He had never known her so demanding.

His tongue was coated now in a mix of hot male and female juice. He lapped, afraid to stop.Suzanne was gasping her hips still working.Thomas reeled from the pungent smell, the mix of juices coated his face. He was shocked. He was disgusted. But he was swallowing. He was accepting this shocking realisation. To his surprise and confusion he was turned on and erect. He knelt at his wife's feet and lapped and licked at her pussy.

Ashamed, excited and confused.

He was erect.

He knelt at his wife's feet licking her clean of another man's come, and he was erect.


Suzanne pushed him away.

'God that was so good! He spunked so deep I thought it was never going to come out... '

Thomas stared at her.

A loud pounding on the door made him jump.

Suzanne jumped, and squealed.

'That'll be him! Go and let him in!' Her face was wreathed in excitement and pleasure. Her hands were drawing on her panties.

Thomas jumped to his feet as the pounding at the door recommenced. Almost without realizing what he was doing he had rushed to the door. He opened it just in time to prevent a third onslaught.Peter Thorenssen shouldered his way. It had restarted raining outside. He glared at Thomas. Then his face beamed.

He thumped Thomas on the shoulder.

'Good man! Good man! You've cleaned her up for me then!'

He shouldered his way past Thomas who had been standing between the front door and the bedroom corridor. His face was a mix of shock, horror, and confusion. His hand shot to his face, which was still coated with the juices leaked from his wife's pussy. Oh God! His boss had seen him with his face covered with spunk and female juices.

'Don't just stand there man. Get me a beer.' He threw the words back over his shoulder as he stomped his way down the corridor to their bedroom.

Thomas stood and stared at the receding figurebefore Peter passed into his bedroom slamming the door shut behind him.

Thomas hurried to the kitchen and recovered some beers from the refrigerator. He paused unsure at the closed bedroom door. This was ridiculous he thought, but he dithered. This was his villa. This was bedroom, but he dithered. Peter was on the other side of that door with his wife.

In his own bedroom...

Timidly he knocked.

He had to knock a second time before he got a response.

'Come in man! Come in. It is your bedroom after all.' Thomas he could hear Peter chuckling to himself. He opened the door and nervously walked in and froze.

Peter stood in the middle of the room. He was completely naked.Suzanne kneeled at his feet, trying to suck his cock. Trying was the right word. Thomas was dumbstruck. His wife was right.


Suzanne at last managed to get her mouth over the end. She had to twist her head round to do it as Peter's cock was still soft.

It hung, black, and thick.

It was easily twelve inches long. Peter could put a horse to shame.

'Give me that beer then. Don't just stand there!' Thomas started, and rushed across the room. Opening the beer for Peter. Peter took the beer and grinned at him.

'I must admit Thomas. You have a good taste in women. Doesn't your wife looked just gorgeous?'

He nodded down at Suzanne. Thomas followed his gaze down. His wife was kneeling. Her eyes closed. Her mouth covered the end of that huge cock. She was struggling to get a few more inches in her mouth.

It was a fat, black sausage, and it stretched his wife's lips!

She did indeed look gorgeous.

'Open your eyes woman.' Peter demanded.

Suzanne's eyes flicked open. She looked briefly at Thomas, then she shifted her attention back to Peter.Thomas watched as her eyes stared up at Peter and became glazed with an adoring look. Thomas could see Suzanne begin working that cock with her tongue.

It did not stay soft long.

Thomas wanted to shrink into the carpet as this huge cock stiffened, thickened, and seemed to go even longer. Suzanne was struggling to release her bra. It fell to the floor and she leaned forward, brushing the hardened, darkened pink tips against Peter's muscular thighs.Peter lifted Suzanne and casually pushed her backwards onto the bed.

Suzanne squealed, then quickly struggled to remove her panties. She lay back on the bed. She looked radiant. Full of passion and excitement! Her full breasts jutted upwards without a hint of sagging. Peter advanced on the bed, and Thomas looked with awe and shock as his wife parted her lovely, full, and shapely, white things. As Peter climbed on to the bedThomas was rooted to the spot.

That thick black cock hung down, as though already lining itself up on his wife's receptive and eager womanhood. He nearly cringed as his wife's slim, white hands caressed it's length and guided it closer.

Directing it.

Aiming it.

Peter's big muscular frame hovered over his wife's lovely white body. It was a stark contrast.

With his beer untouched Thomas watched as Peter lowered himself. Hips stiffened and thrust, as inch by inch, he worked that great cock inside of Suzanne.

Suzanne seemed immobile. Her hands gripped the sheets in a white knuckle grip. Her legs were taught. Trembling with suppressed energy.Peter worked himself deeper. Suzanne, shook and whimpered. Her whole body seemed to be shaking. She was having an orgasm.

Having an orgasm just from him entering her!

'Like that honey?' Peter's voice was low and coaxing.

Suzanne's head bobbed her agreement. She could not trust herself to try and talk.

'I'll introduce you to my friends. They will all just love you.' He grinned. He heard Thomas make a gurgling, choking, sound and turned to stare at his newest employee.

'Don't worry Thomas. Suzanne mentioned your promise. I can assure you that my friends all have extra large cocks!' He turned back to Suzanne, grinning.

'Big ... and Black.' He thrust.

Suzanne screeched in pleasure. Her lovely white legs shot out and wrapped around Peter's muscular black bulk.

'You can go now Thomas. I'll call you if I need you to prepare her bottom.'

Thomas walked weakly from the room.

In the next bedroom Thomas lay on the bed. He did not think he would sleep. Grunts and squeals came from the next room. Peter and Suzanne were taking their pleasure in no uncertain way. His mind drifted to the others at the party. Had Peter really bedded them all. Pamela, Penelope, sweet Diana, buxom Sarah, little Kim.

He lay on the bed. His mind in turmoil as his wife was pleasured in the next room.

His hand drifted to his erect cock. At least he could get some pleasure from this...
Ive been on safari to several African countries. I had my wife with me every time. She stayed in camp most of the time. The african men were wild about White pussy. One booking agent came to keep her company. They went to several partys in the city that required overnight accomodations. Later my wife told me he arranged some heavy duty multiple partner arrangements for her. I was busy anyway. Johanesburg and Capetown are nice places to leave your wife. Bbc is everywhere.
When you in Cape Town drop me a line
From. Thick black cock

Playtime Patty

Gold Member
OMG I must tell everyone what just happen to me, I am SSSOOO EXICTED!!!!! I just got back from a two week vacation to Italy. The second night in Rome my hubby and I were at dinner when we noticed this very handsome well dressed COAL BLACK man sitting alone. I just walked up to him and asked if he would like to join us for dinner. He told me, in his Africana accient that he had no plans and would love to join us. Well his name is Benjamin and he is a South African businessman. We had a wonderful dinner and great conversation and after a couple bottles of wine, I reach over put my hand on his thigh and ask if he wanted joins us in our room for dessert!!! My hubby mouth fell open, but I was so horny for the man. I have never seen a man so BLACK!!!!! Benjamin looked me in the eyes and said YES!!!!!
Well when we got in our suite, Benjamin started to kiss me and melted. Hubby help him undress me and there I was taking Benjamin's clothes off. I dropped to my knees and unbuckled his belt and pants slid then down and there was the most beautiful HARD Black Cock. I open my mouth and started to suck his dick. Well we fuck most of the night, the color contrast between his coal black and my pale white skins were so sexy and beautiful.
Well we made dinner plans for the next night and ended up repeating the first night of Benjamin fucking me and hubby grinning and watching!!!!! During our dinner Benjamin told us that he has fucked several of the white wives of the men who work for him. He said it was tools of the trade!!! WELL HERE IS WHERE THINGS TOOK A HUGE TURN FOR ME!!!!! Benjamin asked if he could just take me to dinner without hubby on the third night. Well we have never done that and had not plan on it, so after talking it over, we agreed to Benjamin and I having dinner , but hubby would be there at another table. Well when we arrived for dinner Benjamin and I walked up to our table and there sat another Black man. His name was Jonathon and he was business associate of Benjamin. We sat down and had a very nice dinner, they chat business and we all just chatted. I kept looking over at hubby and he was watching us like a hawk. Well when dinner was over Benjamin looked at me and asked me to join them for after dinner drinks in his suite!!!!! I KNEW RIGHT THEN WHAT BENJAMIN HAD PLANNED!!!! HE WAS GOING TO GIVE ME TO THIS MAN TO SEAL THEIR DEAL!!!! WHAT WAS I GOING TO DO!!!!! I HAD NEVER DONE ANYTHING LIKE THIS BEFORE!!!!! Well I excused myself and when to hubby and told him, he said if I wanted to it was okay, but he had to be there. So we agreed to drinks and the four of us went to Benjamin's suite. Once inside we had a couple of drinks and then Benjamin looked me in the eye and kissed me and started to fondle by breast. Then I felt someone behind me and it was not my husband, it was Jonathon!!!!! Benjamin looked at hubby and asked him to wait in this room and the two of them lead me into the bedroom. Benjamin and Jonathon slowly took my clothes off and I was going WILD!!!!! I WAS CUMMING FROM JUST THEIR TOUCH. Benjamin stepped back and look at me and said he wanted me to fuck Jonathon. I looked at him and with out saying a word I turn to Jonathon push him on the bed climbed up and started sucking his beautiful black cock. I WAS SO WORKED UP IN THAT BEDROOM WITH TWO BLACK MEN FOR THE FIRST TIME. Benjamin climbed behind me and started eating my pussy while I suck Black cock. I WAS IN HEAVEN!!!! Well after I got Jonathon HARD, I climb up on him and sat down on his big black cock. Well to put it mildly the two to them fucked me ALL NIGHT LONG!!!!!!! HUBBY SAT IN THE OTHER ROOM (OCCASSIONALLY WATCHING HIS WIFE WITH A COCK IN HER MOUTH AND IN HER PUSSY AT THE SAME TIME) LISTENING TO ME SCREAM, MOAN THEIR GROANS AND OUR FLESH SLAPPING ALL NIGHT!!!!!!! That was the beginning of a fun filled 2 weeks in Italy seeing the country by day and getting fucked by night. I will convey other adventures for this vacation at a later date.

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I am a blk SA Bull in CapeTown
Would love to do your prim and proper white mrs

Why not visit CT and let her make your fantasy become a reality
View media item 28284 I am a South African born and bread and love to read stories of expats that work in Africa and there white wives get seduced into fucking black cock. This is one of my fantasies that I get a job in one of our neighboring countries and my wife get seduced to fuck lots of black African cocks. If only dreams can come true !!!! Would love to have it happen to me and see my wife's prim and proper white pussy being used by big black cock .Big very dark strong powerful African men using my wife's pussy to please them and full her with cum .
She does not know yet that I want her to get black fucked . Her white pussy is still untouched by BBC.Any African interested to help get fantasy real?
Ive been on safari to several African countries. I had my wife with me every time. She stayed in camp most of the time. The african men were wild about White pussy. One booking agent came to keep her company. They went to several partys in the city that required overnight accomodations. Later my wife told me he arranged some heavy duty multiple partner arrangements for her. I was busy anyway. Johanesburg and Capetown are nice places to leave your wife. Bbc is everywhere.
When are you bring your mrs to cape town again?
From a blk Cape Townian
View media item 28284 I am a South African born and bread and love to read stories of expats that work in Africa and there white wives get seduced into fucking black cock. This is one of my fantasies that I get a job in one of our neighboring countries and my wife get seduced to fuck lots of black African cocks. If only dreams can come true !!!! Would love to have it happen to me and see my wife's prim and proper white pussy being used by big black cock .Big very dark strong powerful African men using my wife's pussy to please them and full her with cum .
She does not know yet that I want her to get black fucked . Her white pussy is still untouched by BBC.Any African interested to help get fantasy real?