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African Customs, Interracial, A Vacation Starts Wi...

I met Anne when she was 22 and I was a couple of years older. We quickly recognized each other as lifelong partners and married after only three months. Our plan was to delay starting a family for at least five years but, near the end of our first year of marriage, we went on holiday in the wilds of Scotland and, due to me forgetting to pack condoms decided to take a chance, with the consequence that our twins, a boy and a girl, were born nine months later.

When I fell in love, Anne had a strikingly beautiful face but her figure was very slim (my parents used the word ’thin’). Fortunately, during the fourteen years since the twins were born, although her facial beauty has faded only slightly, Anne’s figure has ripened to a nicely rounded perfection. My career in IT has advanced to provide a very comfortable standard of living allowing my wife’s part time income to be devoted to luxuries, gifts and our holiday fund. Altogether we live a very contented family life with an adventurous and satisfying sex life once the kids are asleep.

As the children have grown I have ensured that our holidays were a mixture of the traditional sea and sun mixed with visits to the sites of ancient civilizations such as Pompeii, Egypt and Tunis (Carthage). My older brother Dave also has two offspring, a son the same age as my twins and a daughter two years older and the four have spent many happy hours playing amicably together over the years. So when he announced that his holiday destination was Orlando with the offer to take my offspring along with his own, my two jumped at the chance saying, “At last a holiday without any old ruins to tramp round.” That was how Anne and I found ourselves on a plane heading to Nigeria for our first holiday as a couple since the Honeymoon fifteen years before. The plan was to explore the ancient culture of the Yoruba of Western Africa; then we would head to a beach resort to enjoy the beaches.

After arriving in Nigeria, a bus carried us from the plane to the airport arrival hall where we carried our luggage through the X-ray machines and headed towards the exit, but, half way there, a tall African man in uniform intercepted us and pointed towards the customs benches. There was only one bench in operation with two couples already ahead of us so we joined the queue. Anne wondered why we had been stopped so I explained that they must check passengers using a statistical sampling technique and we had just dropped unlucky.

As I spoke a new official approached and stood watching. He was tall and quite heavily built, I reckoned 6’ 2”, about 4” taller than me. Apart from his height, the striking thing about him was that he was so immaculate, as if he had just put on his uniform freshly starched. His skin was not just ‘black’, it was the deep Black of Ebony stone. All the other staff tended to scruffy with hats pushed to the back of heads and ties at half mast so he was in complete contrast. His hair was cut short and neat, his upper lip sported what used to be called a military moustache and he was wearing designer sunglasses. It was very obvious that he fancied himself and I must admit that he was rather good looking in a swarthy foreign sort of way. I must also admit, I also found his look to be a bit intimidating.

When it came to our turn, I lifted both bags onto the bench and laid our passports beside them. As I did this the watching officer stepped forward, said something in the native tribal tongue and then told us, “There is an anomaly in your luggage, please come with me.” As he spoke he grabbed the passports together with my wife’s bag and set off towards the back of the hall. Following him, I was not unduly concerned, actually more irritated that this delay would probably cause us to miss the planned bus connection to our intended destination.

His office was simply furnished with tall metal cabinets along the middle half of the right hand wall. In front of these were two simple office chairs set facing a wooden desk behind which was a comfortable looking leather upholstered swivel chair. Along the wall to our left as we entered there was a heavy wooden bench with metal arms and straight ahead at the far side of the office a fair sized window. Placing my wife’s bag on his desk the large official indicated that we should sit on the metal chairs then took a pair of surgical gloves from a desk drawer and very deliberately put them on. I had horrible visions of an intimate body search but all he wanted was the key to the bag.

On opening the lid open he looked down and immediately his face broke into a large grin. With a sense of embarrassment I knew he was gazing at my wife’s underwear, garments only she and I were meant to see. Anne always wears feminine delicate under things but in preparation for our holiday we had visited an Victoria’s Secret shop and spent rather a lot on some far more risqué items.

The first pair of panties he merely held up and admired, but with the second pair, he took some time fingering the flimsy material, noticeably the crotch area. When he briefly wafted the third pair under his nose I began to lose control of my anger. When he then held up one of the recent purchases, up and started to very obviously picture Anne wearing them I leapt to my feet all caution abandoned. Fortunately, before I could move, he had switched to a black thong which he spun round his finger until it flew in the air towards me. I caught it and tossed it contemptuously back into the case and this small act of retaliation allowed me to regain control.

The officer saw my distain, his mouth tightened and he snapped , “All right, let’s get on with it then.”


However, instead of delving deeper into the bag, he began feeling the pockets lining the wall, his fingers heading unerringly towards the pouch at the end. “What have we here?” he said gleefully slipping his fingers inside and I went cold all over as he slowly withdrew a large silver makeup compact. You see I knew that the compact contained the worst thing possible, ‘cocaine’.

We indulged but didn’t snort, at least only rarely. For us it was more of a sex enhancer, placed on the gums immediately before oral sex. When I licked Anne with some of that in my mouth it was as if she had been injected with high octane fuel, causing her to writhe and squirm with ecstatic sensations. Her doing the same to me was somewhat different. It did cause my penis and scrotum to be engulfed in an envelope of delicious tingles but it also had a numbing effect that allowed me to last two or three times as long without cumming. As the realisation of discovery hit me I heard Anne gasp, “Oh shit!!!” and I looked towards her to see her staring back with horror filled eyes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think,” she said.

On opening the compact, even before testing a grain on his tongue, the officer joked, “I guess this ‘face powder’ is exclusively for your nose.” But then, seeing the look on both our faces he softened and said, “This isn’t the end of the world you know. It’s pretty obvious that you’re not major international traffickers so at the worst you are looking at far less than six months. If you are really lucky you might even get off with a caution but the most likely outcome will be a fine.”

I wanted to know how long and he said we would be in court in about a week and would be kept in holding cells until then. In answer to my question about bail he explained that had to be arranged through the US Consul and would take a couple of days. The word ‘fine’ eased my mind somewhat but I still had little desire to spend any time as a captive in some filthy African jail cell. For years I had heard that the greasing of palms was endemic in most of the world and this individual seemed to live an expensive lifestyle, so with some confidence I stood and asked, “Suppose I offered to pay the fine to you now – I wouldn’t expect a receipt?”

“What level of fine have you in mind?” he asked and I was pleased to see that he had picked up on the subtext to my question.

“1000 – dollars.”

He nodded. “I like the figure, it’s a nice round number but American dollars are rather on the slide so I prefer the Euro.” This made it more than I’d hoped to pay but I nodded agreement upon which he leaned forward conspiratorially and said, “Just so we are both clear on this, what is the deal as you understand it?”

“Simply that I give you E1000 to put in your pocket and in return you return our passports and release us with all charges dropped.”

On my words the official’s expression hardened and he drew himself up to full impressive height to state, “You are now in real trouble. My government is currently having a purge on official corruption and they will take extremely seriously the attempted bribery of a customs officer. You’re now under official arrest.”

I started to say ‘You’ve no proof’ but, before I could finish, he pointed behind me. I turned round and looked on top of the metal cupboard to see the unforgiving lens of a CCTV complete with hostile winking red light pointing down at me.” The whole world has video now!

He advanced round the desk removing a pair of handcuffs from his belt. Submissively, I held out my arms but he only fixed a cuff to one wrist then moved me towards the door where he attached the other bracelet to the metal arm of the bench. That done he moved towards Anne who was sitting looking as stunned as I felt but, instead of arresting her, he bustled her ahead of him over to the window leaving me to contemplate my misery.

Less than an hour ago I was happily anticipating a carefree holiday and now I was facing years in the hell hole of an African jail. I was going to suffer unknown deprivation and hardship but it was thoughts of my wife that dominated my thoughts. With me incarcerated, she would have to return home alone and I had to wonder how she would manage to go for years without being with a man. Knowing Anne’s love of sex I doubted if she could and this thought tore me apart. Throughout the marriage I had been obsessively jealous. For example, although we often did role play as part of sex, she always had to pretend to be someone else because, on the two times she tried acting herself with me as the other man, I became so knotted up I was unable to perform. To be bluntly honest, my white cock just about shrank inside of me.

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. 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.

Suddenly he stopped, undid his belt, allowing his trousers to fall and puddle round his ankles; to be followed by boxer shorts pushed down below his knees. His large engorged cock stuck out stiffly, elevated slightly above the horizontal. The African spear ready to strike. I tensed knowing what was to transpire, my mind filled with both anger and fascination. I could tell that Anne also knew because she rose on her toes in anticipation. Instead of seizing the moment to impale her on his spear, he decided to torment her, to excite her with anticipation. Gripping his cock with one hand, he started by tapping her genital area with his heavy organ, then rubbing the helmet of his penis up and down her slit. I could sense her frustration building but he did not torment her for long. The picture of Ann’s beautiful pink pussy lips, flush with sexual desire, spread itself open to this African intruder cock head flashed in my mind.

After lining up the head of his cock on target, he turned his head in my direction and gave me the classical stare of the victor about to claim the spoils. Instead of the triumphal plunge home that such a look warranted, he proceeded to enter her slowly, in stages, taking several shallow thrusts and pauses to achieve full penetration. However, from that point he soon built up a strong rhythm, Anne quickly responded as she started to breath in heavy gasps, reaching out to grip the far edge of the desk with whitened knuckles.

When her breathing settled down my wife glanced briefly in my direction, her mouth open as he continued his onslaught. I think it was to see if I was watching. When she saw that I was, quickly she averted her eyes. There was an orgasmic moment when she gripped the desk edge, but the following times when he brought her to that state she only clenched her fists and cried, “Oh, Oh, Oh,” as the tremors passed through her. His mighty African Cock pressed deeply against her G-Spot, and area that requires great exertions on my part to reach with my white cock.

As the orgasms continued, I got a compulsive need to see his cock actually entering her. Despite the pain in my torn wrist, I stood and manoeuvred round to stand to the right of the bench. This meant that I now had to twist round and look over my shoulder but those vital few extra inches had increased the angle sufficiently for me to view the point of penetration. I could now see that his cock fitted so tightly that on every withdrawal stroke a narrow collar of internal vaginal skin was pulled out too. Also it was easier to observe how well oiled his shaft had become from my ‘loving’ wife’s lubricating juices. The taboo of watching a Black Cock slide deep inside of my white wife caused my knees to quiver.

Suddenly the big man withdrew and stepped back, although I am sure he had not spoken, Anne quickly turned and sat herself on the desk. Then she layed back with legs spread. I was not surprised to discover that skin on either side of her pussy lips had turned a bright pink. This view only lasted a brief few seconds because he rapidly reinserted his weapon into my Ann’s gaping pussy and took up where he had left off. The view angle was now more favourable, I abandoned my contorted position and returned to the bench. While doing so I thought about the quirks of life; for only that morning I had set off joyfully, anticipating a carefree holiday, and yet a mere few hours later I was watching the mother of my children being fucked out of her mind by a hugely hung swaggering foreigner. The sounds of their intercourse filled the room, as did the smell of their sexual musk.

He began to fuck her with rapid piston like strokes. At times my wife’s legs flapped free to his rhythm but at others they closed around his waist. Occasionally he would pull completely clear, wait a second and then ram back in to full depth, with this always evoking a noticeable response. Now whenever he made her cum, besides the heavy panting and high pitched moan, Anne squeezed and twisted her own tits, viciously crushing her nipples between thumb and forefinger. Not even the most unbiased observer could think that she was just ‘lying back and thinking on for the team’.

During this narrative I have not dwelt, for long, on my own mental state, but I need to mention that since the start, the jealousy in my gut felt as if I was being disemboweled. With every added element being an extra twist of the knife. Despite this, my own smaller cock had maintained its erection; now I found that I had somehow inched towards the front of this bench and managed to pull my pants rather tight. The taut material was putting a bending pressure on my stiff shaft and also constricting my balls as if in a vice. Unfortunately I found that sitting back failed to ease the pain.

He paused to force Anne’s legs up against her breasts. She obligingly hooked her arms behind her knees to hold them in place, spread for him. From this point on it was hard to tell if it was for his pleasure or my benefit, for he seemed intent on providing a master class in fucking. He had her head rolling from side to side with eyes closed and an almost continuous guttural cry issuing from her open mouth. On the occasions that her eyes did flick open they looked wild and uncoordinated. From point of when he entered her, I had heard no intelligible speech but now she clearly said ‘Yes’, three times in succession.

After a few more deep thrusts, he paused all motion; probably summoning energy for the finale. In that brief respite my attention moved from the events on the desk to myself. I realised with that at some point during all this that I had ejaculated in my pants. I shook my head, wondering what kind of degenerate pervert must I be to get off on watching my wife being r*ped. It was r*pe, if only technically, because that is how sex under duress is classified, but, an independent observer would not have seen duress. Looking for someone to blame for my disaster other than myself, I argued that had Anne shown more reluctance it may not have happened.

My wife’s Ebony African ravisher started again, building up a rhythm that everyone knows as a ‘cum stroke’. Suddenly, his back tensed and he gave a rapid flurry of thrusts before freezing in position. My imagination flashed a picture of the tip of his cock gushing with Black Seed, coating my wife’s pink insides, pooling up next to cervix. He stayed like that for a very long moment broken by a few further random thrusts, as if trying to gain even deeper penetration. I am convinced that during that final sequence Anne had to fight an urge to put her arms round him, perhaps even kiss him in gratitude for his ‘gift’.

Eventually he straightened, stepped back, letting his spent Cock pull clear to hang slick with the slime of sex, rapidly losing stiffness if not length. Even when he was no longer inside her, Anne still lay with her raised legs held in position by her arms. It was like a tableau, with nobody moving but with his eyes and my own fixed on Anne’s gaping cunt as a large glob of thick white cum came slowly out and began to ooze down the crack to her anus. He broke the spell by laughing and offering, “If you want to dive in there I’ll toss you the key.”

I did not reply. Had I been free at that moment I would have negated my wife’s ‘sacrifice’ by trying to kill the bastard, no matter how futile that attempt might be. Ann simply looked up at the ceiling. Finished with his moment of victorious bravado, the African assailant regained his demeanor. Calmly, he opened up one of the lockers and pulled out two white cotton towels, one small and the other large. With the small towel in one hand, he motioned Ann with the other hand to open up her legs a bit further. Gently, he then blotted his African Semen from between my wife’s swollen and tender pussy, using long strokes and tender pats to accomplish this task. However, I am guess that most of his seed was planted deep inside of her, were it stayed.

Then, he held out his hand and helped Ann to her feet. It took her a few moments to steady herself, still nude before this naked master. Then, he opened on of the drawers on his desk and took out a packet of towelett wipes. My regal wife looked her assailant in the eye as he proceeded to wipe her clean, starting at her neck. Ann kept her chin up and did not move a muscle as the African Official, her Bull, wiped the sweat and musk from her body. She kept perfectly still has he briefly wiped the top of her mound and slit. He even knelt before her to wipe her legs down.

Now somewhat clean, he grabbed the larger towel and stepped very close to her. Their eyes met again, but this time there as a kind of solemn acknowledgement, some agreement of mutual respect for the act that had been performed. Was it some token of forgiveness on the part of my wife? Or, was it appreciation? I could tell that this was a private moment between people who had just been intimate, so I averted my eyes, looking down at the floor, catching the action out of the corner of my eye as the African rubbed down my wife with the towel. Her breasts, back, buttocks, pussy, legs, and feet all received a through rub.


Finished, he threw the towel aside, pulled up his trousers and swaggered to gaze out the window. Upon which Anne reached down and collected her panties from the floor. Quickly, she slid them up her legs to cover her violated sex. The thin material being the only thing that would catch the fluid that would leak out. Then, she retrieved her bra from the chair. At last she covered herself with her skirt, blouse and jacket, but just stood awaiting instructions. She did not look once in my direction.

I think he must have been watching a reflection because our African tormentor turned on cue and beckoned for her to again join him at the window. They seemed to speak for a couple of minutes; then my wife walked over to me carrying a small key that she used to release my shackle. As she turned towards her suitcase I quickly removed my jacket and held it folded over my arm, hoping to conceal the wet patch on the front of my trousers.

“I think I may have caused you to miss your connection, so the least I can do is remedy that,” he said and, pointing to a door I hadn’t noticed he went on, “If you go through there and down the fire escape to the yard, my sergeant will be along in a few minutes to run you to your holiday destination.”

Carrying our respective luggage we headed towards that door but as we filed past the smirking officer, he said to me, “Thank you so much for the temporary loan of your wife. That was exceptional. You really are a very lucky man.” It was only my wife’s sudden firm grip on my arm that stopped me ruining everything at that late stage.

As we waited in the yard, I had to know, “What was he saying to you at the window just now.”

“He was giving me the key,”

“No, it was more than that,” I insisted.

“He was telling me he’s keeping my compact as a souvenir but that he’s put a packet containing twice as much coke in my case instead. It was what he had planted in there before he discovered we had provided our own drugs,” Anne admitted, seeming almost amused by his subterfuge.

I clenched my teeth in frustrated anger but I was puzzled how he had managed that because, from the moment he had unlocked the case, I had been watching him like a hawk. Then I realized that it had to be during the distraction while that G-string was whirling through the air.

“And he said his name is Karume.”

“Did he ask if you enjoyed it?”

“Yes.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him that I had,”

“Why the fuck did you say that?”

“Because it made sense to keep feeding his ego until we were both safely away from that office,” Anne replied impatiently, as if it should have been obvious.


We rode to our holiday complete in silence, sitting at opposite ends of the back seat, I with my jacket folded on my lap. I did not want to say anything in front of the driver and although I had plenty of issues on my mind, that was not the place to voice them. Just before being dropped off by the police car, I checked the front the front of my trousers and was relieved to find that the damp patch was now barely noticeable.

We got up to the top floor apartment and dropped our cases, upon which Anne stood as if expecting me to run forward and embrace her but when I failed to move she smiled at me and said happily, “At least that’s over, we’re not in prison and we still have the whole holiday to look forward to.”


my mind was racing, I was angry at the assault upon her, angry that I was unable to protect her, angry that we had no recourse but to submit to an African Officer moments after we landed in his country, angry that my wife so enjoyed her abuse that she orgasmed multiple times, angry at myself for my arousal of the assault on her and finally, hidden deep was my anger that I did not possess, and never would, a masculine tool that could so fill, dominate and pleasure my Ann.

Seething from all this anger, “If you say so,” I snarled, glaring at her.

Anne’s face dropped. “Darling, I know it wasn’t very nice for you to have to watch what happened and I know we have to talk about it but it’s not the end of the world you know.”

“Not nice for me but quite the opposite for you or that’s how it looked to me.”

“I only did what I had to.”

“Played the whore you mean. It amazed me how easily you slipped into the role.”

My wife looked surprised rather than hurt by my words. “What specifically did I do that makes you say that?”

“I could just talk about your enthusiasm, but being specific, all the times you have sucked me over the years you’ve never done all the things to me that you did to him.”

“Perhaps that’s because he had more for me to work on,” Anne said, her teasing tone showing that she was not taking me seriously.

“It looked to me as if you were deliberately trying to make him cum in your mouth.”

“Of course I was,” my wife said shaking her head. “I was afraid that if he fucked me it would have the exactly effect on you that it obviously has so I hoped to short circuit the whole damn circus right at the start. I certainly didn’t want his spunk down my throat out of choice.”

“Well what about when he put his cock in you? Just by looking at your face I could tell you were thoroughly enjoying it,” I said accusingly.

“Are you sure it was pleasure you saw and not pain? Imagine how you’d feel, lying naked on a bare wooden desk while something hard and stiff was rammed into you over and over again.”

“Answer me honestly, did you enjoy it?”

“That’s not as easy to say as it sounds,” Anne said, looking at me with sincerity in her eyes. “I love you and I knew how it would make you feel having to sit and watch me having sex with another man so mentally I was upset it was happening but physically it was a different matter. You’re not female so you wouldn’t know. A woman’s body is made for sex and is programmed to respond to certain stimuli whether she really wants it or not. Desire has nothing to do with it.”

“You are correct, I’m not female.”

“Think of it another way. Imagine the unlikely scenario of a beautiful sexy girl blackmails you to let her suck your dick. If she does every technique she knows do you really believe that she won’t be able to make you cum.”

“If she did to me what you did to him?” I asked bitterly.

“Yes, all of that and perhaps more, would your lack of initial desire stop from getting you off?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted reluctantly while conceding to myself that I would not have been unable to resist my wife’s talented mouth as long as he had. But then with a picture of the copulation in front of my eyes, I snarled, “But I certainly would not have gone on and screwed her with the kind of abandon you showed and then tried to claim it was beyond my control.”

Anne paused and studied my sour face for a long moment and then she said, ”OK, I’ve tried using half truths in the hope of protecting your feelings but that’s obviously not what you want to hear so here is the pure unvarnished reality. Yes, I enjoyed having sex with Karume, I enjoyed it a lot. Despite his arrogance he’s a very attractive man and he’s got a magnificent cock. Apart from the hard desk, I think every woman deserves to be fucked like that at least once in her life.”

“Did he make you cum?”

“You know he did. I think I managed to hide the first few but after that the orgasms were happening so continuously that I gave up trying and let myself enjoy them.”

Strangely, her admitting to what I had seen eased my rage bit also fuelled my insecurity. “Are you saying you would rather be with him?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Anne snapped back but with the tender look on her face at odds with the harshness of the words. “I love you so much and I don’t love him in the slightest. When you and I have sex, no matter how raunchy we sometimes get, to me it is always ‘making love’. I’m happy that it’s you and afterwards you always leave me feeling contented, I’m even contented just reaching out and touching your skin. With Karume it was pure sex and it was fabulous in a way that perhaps only pure sex can be. The difference is that after I’d finished doing it with him I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him unless it was to let him fuck me again.”

“If you got the chance, would you fuck him again?”

“Not if I was still married to you.”

“But suppose that I was miles away and there was no possible chance of me finding out would you?

My wife gave that a lot of thought before answering, “To be completely honest I don’t know. I hope that I would be strong enough not to but given the right circumstance I don’t know how much temptation I can resist. That Black Cock of his was magnificent. With ever thrust, even the shallow ones, the tip of his cock head rubbed against my G-Spot. It could not miss and it pushed me over the edge of control into a place where I could not help but feel pleasure.”

We seemed to be making progress and I know that my internal torment had eased considerably so I don’t know what devil prompted me to accuse, “You fancied him from the moment you saw him and that’s why you agreed to open your legs so quickly, that’s why you made such a meal of his cock and why you were so passionate with him.”

My wife’s eyes suddenly flashed, as they had on the rare occasions over the years when she had been really angry. “If it had been just the coke in the compact I was half prepared to risk that it would only mean a fine, depending on what deal he was prepared to accept. I would have agreed to suck his dick and get him off with a hand job but that was my limit. But then you had to escalate matters and make things ten times worse with your clumsy attempt to bribe him and that meant I had to do whatever he wanted.”

Anne paused for breath and then continued in a softer tone, “David, we both watched ‘Midnight express’ and we both saw that documentary, all the news reports about foreign jails and those interviews with people caught smuggling drugs. If we had ended up in prison it was inevitable that we would have had to put up with years of squalid conditions, poor food and constant sexual assault with that last bit applying to you just as much as me. I know that I could put up with being r*ped far better than you and if it had been necessary, to save you from that, I would have let Karume fuck me every day of our holiday, no matter how horrible he turned out to be.”

She looked at me sadly. “It turned out to be a lot less than unpleasant and that bothers you. What seems to be tearing you apart in not the fact that it happened but the thought that I might have enjoyed it. Would you rather I had hated every moment and been sobbing tears all the time he was poking me?”

I tried to stutter some kind of denial but Anne carried on, “And while we are on the subject of pleasure perhaps I’m not the only one who got excitement out of Karume fucking me. I wasn’t going to mention this but from the state of your trousers earlier, you got pretty aroused yourself.” She sealed it, and I knew it.

I was mortified that she knew. With a feeling of total humiliation I crumbled into a chair and sat with my head in my hands, biting my lip to fight against total emotional breakdown. Anne said softly, “I thought that was it,” then she was by my side, arms around me and with her soft breasts pressing against my head. “It’s quite natural, there is nothing at all to be ashamed of,” she told me urgently.

“Since the beginning of time, countless men must have been forced to watch as their partners were had by another man. In those times it was all about impregnation so as a defence mechanism, nature primes cuckolded men so that they are ready to send in vast numbers of killer sperm to destroy those of the intruder, as soon as they get the chance. That is just what happened to you and it was as much beyond your control as was my behaviour that upset you so much.” I hadn’t seen it like that. All the anger and guilt melted away like water down a shower drain.

I reached my arms round her and gave her a hug, mumbling, “I’m so very sorry for how I have behaved. I don’t know what got into me.”


“It was what got into me,” Anne said lightly but then in a more serious tone, “Darling that is all it was. Leaving aside the mental stuff, the base fact is that he put his cock inside my pussy and it meant nothing. Aside from some possible temporary stretching I am unchanged. Despite all that has happened I’m exactly the same woman I was before we left home and you are the same man. I love you just as much as I ever did, possibly a bit more, so let’s put it all behind us and enjoy our holiday.

I held her close to me, slowly caressing her back and breasts, kissing her, running my hands through her hair. With tenderness and compassion we reclaimed each other for ourselves. There was still the small, but not unimportant, issue of what was still inside of her.

I told her to undress and take a long shower. As she pulled off her panties I could tell that a bit more of Karume’s seed had leaked out of her. We both laughed when I said ‘what comes in Africa, stays in Africa’ as I tossed them into the trash. While Ann was in the shower, I asked to man at the main desk to direct me to a pharmacy where I could obtain a morning after pill. As I walked down the street to this place I reasoned that this task was the duty of a modern Cuckold, especially considering the potency of African Seed.

That night, after an excellent meal, Ann and I made love several times. Her body was still tender, but responsive, from her earlier exertions. I was able to tie my record for cuming in one night, four. But never, even though I tried my best, was I able to bring OFF Ann they way Karume had done. For her part, Ann truly enjoyed the fourth fucking I gave her. It was hard, deep and short lived, but it made her toes curl and body tense as though she was still in her 20’s. I think she liked being the center of sexual attention and pleasure of two men in one day. We fell asleep to the sounds and smells of Africa.

We enjoyed the next several days of our holiday. The inauspicious start forgotten, at least on the surface. Although taking siesta during the warmest part of the day we managed to visit many sites containing well preserved ancient structures, but the defining element of the week was the vast amount of sex. I have always enjoyed giving her oral, however, it became almost compulsive, with me spending many languid hours with my tongue licking and probing the place where Karume’s jumbo cock had been. Anne tried to reciprocate by using those oral techniques that had first sparked my jealousy. Those attempts were all short lived as her ministrations consistently brought me to the verge of ejaculation far too quickly. Still, I could not, to the best of my abilities, bring my beautiful Ann to the Orgazmic Bliss that she had experienced from her assaulter’s, her African Bull’s, cock.

Then, a devilish plan hatched in my mind. “This is Africa” the saying goes. To that I added, “What happens in Africa, stays in Africa”. To Ann’s love and sacrifice, for her ability to absolve me of my guilt, I would give her guiltless and unrestricted pleasure. I hoped that the hotel manager would recognize the name of a tall an prominent man named Karume, who happened to be an official at the airport.

End of Story