African Customs Part II
After several minutes with them just out of earshot, apparently gazing out the window, Anne turned and stood looking at me with a strange expression on her face. Before I had chance to consider the implications of this, The Official moved directly behind my wife, snaked an arm over her shoulder, and plunged a hand down the front of her blouse to blatantly fondle her breast. My head exploded, without thinking, I launched myself at him only to be brought to an abrupt halt by the tether securing my arm. I found myself face down with an almost dislocated shoulder, and shredded skin on my wrist.
Anne ran forward to help me up, magically producing a small white handkerchief to dab the blood and then use as a rudimentary bandage round the wound. Then still squatting in front of me she said softly, “He says when it comes to bribery he’s far more amenable to female persuasion and isn’t interested in money.”
“What the hell does that mean,” I snapped.
“He wants to fuck me and I’ve agreed. I got us into this mess so it’s up to me to get us out.”
“You can’t,” I pleaded, almost unable to believe what I’d heard. I felt bile sting my throat.
Still speaking softly and looking directly into my eyes, Anne said, “Darling, the choice is either opening my legs and letting him poke his thing in me for a few minutes or for us to fester for God knows how long in an African prison. There really is no choice - David, we both know how cruel an African Prison can be. It’s only intercourse. We just have to get through this and we’ll be able to enjoy our holiday as if nothing had happened.”
“But how do you think I’ll feel seeing him do that to you right in front of me?” I objected. Left unsaid was the issue of him being a Black Man.
“You don’t have to watch”, she told me with far less sympathy, shifting her eyes away from mine. “If you don’t want to see, just close your eyes.” With that she got up and walked to stand by her chair. The only sound in the room, her foot steps echoing off the walls. I had to swallow hard to keep more bile down.
He must have told her to undress because, without a word, Anne removed her jacket and hung it carefully on the back of the chair. Her skirt and blouse followed to be folded on the seat. She next took off her bra in a very matter of fact manner, dropped it on the seat. Her pert breasts exposed with her nipples already hard. Then, incongruously, turned to face him instead of me, as she hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties and drew then down her lovely legs, quickly stepping out of them. These she simply let drop to the floor. There she was, naked, exposed, probably scared, in front of an African Official who’s name I did not even know.
Anne never had excessive pubic hair, but in readiness for wearing the extremely abbreviated swimwear, purchased specially for the holiday, she had reduced it down to almost porn star nudity, landing strip. It grieved me that he could now view what was intended for my eyes only; that her sexual lips were now open and his to take. At this point, unable to contain myself, I shouted, “Only with a condom!”
“No chance,” he replied firmly. Then added, “If it’s infection you are worried about, I had a full medical only three days ago and I have a clean report dated yesterday.” With that he walked round his desk, removed a sheet of paper from a drawer and dropped it together with our passports by my side on the bench.
“What about possible pregnancy,” I persisted. I was almost shaking with anger and fear as to what was about to transpire. A Black African was about to take my wife, slide his cock in to where only I am supposed to be permitted to go, with her consent but not mine. She would also be taking his seed.
“That’s your concern,” he said laughing, “We do have morning after pills even in a third world country.
During this small diversion, Anne had sat back down on her chair so when he moved back towards her, he largely blocked my view of her naked body, except for her face in profile. I assume he gave another order for she leaned forward slightly. Then, I clearly heard the sound of his zip being pulled down. There was some further activity then she suddenly froze with a mixture of shock and wonder on her face. At this moment, he stepped sideways to rest the back of his thighs against the desk, revealing that my wife was using both hands to support his cock. The damn thing looked huge and it wasn’t even completely stiff.
I know that Anne’s palm measure three inches across, plus, I know that when she holds my cock with both hands it virtually disappears except for just the tip. With him there was easily another hand’s breadth left exposed, even more. And the width was even more startling than the length. Clutching her thumb and fingers, she touched round the shaft but came nowhere near encompassing his girth.
She bounced his heavy Black Ebony Cock on her hands until it fully stiffened, then she moved it into an almost vertical position. Leaning forward, her tongue shot out, much like that of a snake, the tip lightly touched the head of his cock. I saw him twitch in response and I also jerked as an almost electrical shock shot through me; but when she repeated the action a moment or two later I suffered no similar reaction. A new variation followed with her rapidly flicking his Cock Head, still with only the tip of her tongue.
By this time his foreskin had fully retracted, Anne took the opportunity to run her wet tongue round the glans, licked her lips as if savouring the taste, then repeated the action. This was apparently satisfactory because her head plunged down to engulf the whole helmet in her mouth but then jerked abruptly upward so that it escaped past her soft lips with an audible pop.
Thus far her actions had been brief and measured, as if part of a technical exploration but now it changed as she took several inches of his cock deep into her mouth. From the movement of her cheeks I would have assumed she was chewing, had her mouth contained food and not warm flesh. This continued for a minute or more and even when his saliva wet organ did reappear she quickly ‘swallowed’ it again, as if her hunger had not yet been satisfied.
Next my lewd wife licked down the shaft to just above his balls and back again several times and then, as if just realizing the appeal of his ball sac, actually slid off the chair onto the floor to mouth and suck his testicles. She took each of his plums in turn into her mouth for a prolonged tongue caress and then seemed to get nutrition by just sucking the loose skin. By the time that she eventually regained the chair, he was emitting pre-cum in copious quantities. This she licked up eagerly, as if it were the most delectable nectar in the universe.
I was both amazed and shocked. Anne had done many of these same things to me over the years but usually in a light hearted manner and certainly not with the same single minded concentration on giving intense pleasure. The only thing I was grateful for was that she never paused to gaze up at him as she did with me.
This was the point at which things got frenzied and when I first noticed that, although of much lesser dimension, my own cock was every bit as stiff as his, tenting up inside of my pants. My wife’s head started rapidly bobbing up and down, taking an impossible length of phallus deep into her mouth while she manually worked the rest of the shaft, switching hands when one arm began to tire. I have watched many blow-jobs on video but never one with quite this degree of concentrated eroticism. Something had to happen, but it was he who brought this interlude to a close, not by ejaculating but be gently pushing her away. His large black hand pressing onto the top of her head.
He must have whispred to her what to do; Anne moved past him with apparent eagerness, to push various items aside and bend over the desk. She rested her elbows on the desk, arched her back, thrusting her butt into the air she gripped the sides of the desk with her fingers. The tall African blackmailer then stepped behind her, his cock still wet with her saliva, still hard and firm as a spear. The African then spent the next several moments sensually caressing those perfect rounded buttocks, then, moving his hands down the backs of her thighs to caress her flanks. Their skin contrast was staggering, ebony vs. pale white.
He stopped, moistened his middle finger then lowered his hand to caress her pussy. This is when my frustration began to be almost unbearable. A blow job was one thing, now he was at her sex. From where I was seated, Anne’s body was in profile so although I saw her twitch, even by leaning as far as possible to the right, I was prevented from seeing exactly where he was touching by the silhouette of her haunch.
I may not have been able to witness the act, but I could easily surmise what his actions were by her pleasurable responses to them. Depending on whether she wiggled her hips slightly or instead eased back towards him, I believed I could differentiate between his exciting her clitoris or probing those inner moist recesses with one or more fingers.