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He had never met the owner, and Angel had never discussed their host. As he pulled over Angel jumped out and he glanced at the others arriving and going into the villa. It was 7pm.
"9.30!" Angel called as she left.
As he had noticed earlier, all those arriving for the meet where white women. Most of the women seemed to be between 25 and 35years old. Angel despite being older was better looking than all of them!
That fact gave him quiet pride.
He also noticed that like Angel all the visiting women were dressed in their feminine best. It came to him that they were a prime example of the beautiful white flowers of Rhodesia, or Zimbabwe, as it was now known.
He watched as Angel strolled across to the villa's entrance and took quite pride in her effortless grace. Her hips swayed in a feminine, but not brazen manner.
He smiled as he turned the car and headed home.
The evening seemed to pass to quickly for Angel. The discussion was lively and interesting. In the past they had discussed the idealism of Plato, and the ethics of Socrates, and the logic of Aristotle.
Tonight, however, they had discussed a relatively modern philosophy of Nietzsche. Igwe clearly held to this philosophy and the freedom of any individual to create their own values. This concept had led to a vigorous debate as Angel realised her own deep belief in Catholicism might be at jeopardy by such a philosophy.
However, Igwe pointed to Africa, was reputedly the site of the Garden of Eden. He pointed out in graphic detail the poverty, starvation, and chronic disease that bedevilled the continent. Africa he pointed out was the closest continent to the birthplace of the Christ child, and yet in Africa it was not the meek that ruled but the strong and the powerful.
"Men like Igwe Orizu had the power of life and death in Zimbabwe," he explained.
Words that startled Angel out of her thoughts. She was not accustomed to such stark concepts. Then she recovered herself. Igwe was charming and intelligent. A man capable of discussing philosophy in such deep and meaningful terms was not a man to wield the power of life and death harshly.
She looked at him more closely.
She had never known a man who had such power. Was he serious? She felt a strange shiver run through her and wondered at its meaning.
Igwe demonstrated by example, not just in Zimbabwe, but also across Africa how men with money and power dominated the continent and took what they wanted from it.
While at the same time they found a ready audience of followers who were only to ready to blame western companies, and the previous colonial powers for their current misfortune.
He Igwe, had wealth, and that wealth gave him power. While he paid the ruling party a tithe of his earnings that grateful body overlooked minor matters like tax, and the occasional disappearances.
"Police officers would jump to his command for a trivial sum of money. Though it seemed a fortune to them Money made the law in Africa!"
"Africa was a continent that proved Nietzsche right. Moreover, it was the black man who held power! Not white men."
"Here it was black men who were strong and positive, while white men were nervous and on the defensive."
"It was men, and men like him, who found it easy to impose their will on the weak and the worthless."
"There was a time when the white men ruled in Africa. Those days are over."
"Power lies with a handful of men like Igwe Orizu," pointing to himself, "in countries across Africa."
He looked across the room as the white women hanging on to his every word. Every one of which, he had taken his pleasure with. Even the Ice Queen herself.
"Now in Africa when a black man like me wants a white woman in his bed he just takes her, and there is no one who can stop him doing so."
His gaze swept across the now tittering and giggling women, and his eyes met and held those of the Ice Queen.
They he would not have called her that if he understood how quickly her nipples hardened under his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat, and her pussy suddenly inexplicably turned into a swampy morass that steamed.
That comment seemed to close the meeting and a few women stayed for coffee. It was 8.30pm and David was due to pick her up at 9.30pm. Why had she not told him to pick her up earlier? She sipped her coffee listening to the idle chatter discussing the latest shortages.
As Helen Baxter rose to leave Angel realised she would be the only one left if she remained. It was only 9pm but she could not risk remaining in this house alone with Igwe.
She rose and joined Helen in expressing her satisfaction at the evening and her thanks to Igwe and headed for the door with the other woman.
She had almost escaped when Igwe's asked her to stay a moment. Her heart jumped and butterflies swarmed in her stomach. She quickened her pace, but his hand caught hers holding her back.
"Helen," Angel called out to the other woman to encourage her to wait. To her alarm the word came out in a high squeak. Helen glanced back just as Igwe came up behind her and his arm encircled Angel's waist.
"Helen, wait a moment please," she asked.
Helen glanced quickly at Angel, and then at Igwe. She ignored Angel's beseeching eyes request, and closed the door behind her. Angel could swear she had seen amusement in Helen's eyes.
The door clicked shut.
Angel was about to speak when she felt Igwe's hot breath on her slender neck. She shivered, and then sought to free herself from the arm around her waist.
"It was a mistake." She gasped as she struggled to push his arm away. Referring to last week's passionate lovemaking.
"It was meant to be." His voice was soft and mesmerising, now his hot breath was wafting across her delicate white ear.
Angel could feel herself trembling, and cursed her treacherous body. She grasped his arm and was astonished at how hard and firm it was. Her efforts to pull his arm free had no effect. It would have been very easy to push her husband away, but Igwe's arm was locked around her waist was an immovable object.
"Igwe! I'm married. I can't do this!"
Behind her Igwe's response was a low purr of appreciation as his free hand rose up and clasped one of Angel's full firm breasts in his hand.
"Oh! No! Please1"
Igwe's black hand cupped and fondled the white fullness, delighting in its shape and firmness. Between the light fabric of her dress he could feel that Angel's brassiere was light and lacy. The sort of brassiere a woman wore when she was expecting intimate attention.
He grinned and lowered his lips to the slender white neck and lightly trailed kisses along its perfection.
Angel's head fell back, flopped to one side, as his lips feasted. Then she struggled anew. Knowing full well the adulterous penalty of allowing him to continue.
"No! I said No!" Angel shouted her protest desperate now, as her body reacted with its own quick recognition of the presence of a warm strong male wishing to mate.
She struggled to walk towards the now closed door, but Igwe pulled her back towards him and her curvy derriere was pulled against his loins.
Immediately she felt the hot hard maleness push up against her soft bottom. She sought to pull her hips away, but Igwe was not having it.
Holding her firmly around the waist. Igwe sensuously rubbed his hardness in the soft round curves of the married white woman. She was no naïve innocent, and knew the power and strength of the male member pressing into her.
Her pussy throbbed and liquefied.
Angel nearly wept with frustration and anger at her misuse. She cursed herself for coming back here after he had taken advantage of her last week. This man was not polite and considerate like her husband.
He was an animal!
A black animal with a hard cock, a throbbing cock, that was sliding and pushing firmly and hotly between the soft cheeks of her bottom pushing them apart.
Her pussy throbbed and purred in response.
Despite her best intentions her body was reacting with eager delight at his forceful attentions. Igwe's charm and intelligence having been replaced with an animal lust that was threatening to overwhelm her senses.
Suddenly she was free, and she jumped forward. Then she turned intent on a blistering retort, only to find Igwe close behind and his mouth descending on hers.
"Umphh," her retort stifled by his hot demanding lips crushing hers.
Her hands came up intent on pushing him away. Somehow she found herself holding him close as their lips locked and his tongue was eagerly responding to his demanding invasion of her mouth.
He stepped forward and she found herself sandwiched between the wall of the hallway and his hard warm black body.
Again she tried to push him away but his hard black body was immovable. She was overcome by the strong scent of his male arousal. His large cock was now pressed firmly against the welcoming curve of her soft stomach.
It's length and hardness seemed thicker and longer that she had remembered. Nothing could be that long and thick! Her brain was in turmoil even as his hands were under her skirt exploring upwards.
She renewed her struggle squirming in his grasp. Her treacherous nipples had exploded into thickened pointy hardness. As she squirmed against Igwe they rubbed against his chest sending flashes of desire and excitement between their excited tips and her overexcited loins.
Igwe could feel the married white woman's hardened nipples rub and brush against him as his body held her pinned against the wall.
White women! They were so alike. Protesting their innocence. Denying their needs even as their bodies blazoned to the world their desire for sex.
His hands rose along the soft curves of her upper thighs, enjoying their soft warmth. Stroking and caressing with his hands he could feel the woman tremble violently.
His hands slipped up over the full curves of her bouncy derriere and grasped and moulded the full curves pulling her close to him and his eager throbbing cock.
"No", her voice was a low whisper in his ear. A last desperate pleading as he marvelled at the soft lacy knickers he had discovered. He grinned as he realised she had come to his meeting tonight not in the safe protective cotton panties of a woman married 19 years. She had come to him in knickers designed to inflame and arouse.
He grinned and tore them apart.
Angel wailed and pushed and shoved, and could not stop herself revelling in the hot hardness pushing her skirt between her legs. Her dress was her last protection.
"My husband…please…I'm married…I can't…not again."
The words were music in the ears of Igwe. There was nothing quite like breaking in married white woman emotionally confused and aroused against her will.
He knew what was needed now.
He withdrew his hands and pulled back from her. He could feel her body surge forward seeking to keep contact with his. Her arms once pushing him away now hung tight on his shoulders.
He took her face in his hands. Stroking the soft white cheeks, he turned her face up towards his. He met her eyes concentrating all the warmth and confidence he could muster.
"This is right Angel. This is how it must be."
"But I am married to Mark."
"I love you Angel."
He watched her eyes widen.
"You love me," her voice stammered.
"Of course. How could I not?"
"But…but…but", her confusion was cut short by the feel of his aroused cock pushing and sliding deliciously between her legs.
"I know you love me Angel."
"But I can't love you…"
"I know you do. Your body could not possibly react like this to anyone other than a man you loved."
As if to prove his words his hands dropped to and enveloped her full thrusting breasts. His palms gliding over the aroused stiff nipples sending shooting streams of pleasure that seemed to choreograph with the pulsing needs of her loins.
She shivered and pushed her aching breasts into his hands. It made sense. She could not remember feeling so aroused and excited.
She looked up at him trying to think but his bruising mouth crushed hers and she gasped into his hot mouth. After a moment's hesitation her tongue sort out his and she was borne back to the wall.
Igwe could sense the collapse of resistance. His hands were back under her skirt. She needed time to think but her skirt was being pushed up to her waist and she found herself clutching it high out of the way as that hot throbbing masculine hardness finally found its way between softness of her silken thighs.
Its heat seemed to scorch her inner thighs as it urged her spreading thighs apart. It throbbed and pulsed against her skin and she remembered what it had felt like last time.
Hot wet liquid seemed to slide over her skin and she realised it was his excited pre-cum leaking from the head of his cock as it excitedly rubbed between her shapely legs.
Then she gasped as Igwe hoisted her into the air. She marvelled at his strength, as he lifter her high and pushed back against the wall. His hands pulled her legs apart and she realised she was at a height that matched her loins with his cock.
Her head fell forward onto his shoulder and waited for the inevitable.
He loved her!
His cock thrust upwards and like an Assegai spear seemed to penetrate deep at the first thrust.
Her toes curled.
Her hands clasped his shoulders.
He thrust again…deeper.
She bit her lip in an anguished attempt at self-control.
He thrust again and she screamed her pleasure.
She could feel Igwe's shoulders shake and wondered at his own pleasure.
Then his cock started to withdraw and she sought to clasp it tightly shocking herself. Her tight grasp on his cock seemed to make no difference to its slithery withdrawal but then he thrust again and she gasped her relief into his neck.
She did not want this to stop. No not anytime soon!!!
Igwe was bouncing and thrusting beneath and she could feel his cock throbbing and jerking inside her. She felt so stretched. It was just as wonderful as she remembered.
Could anything match the pleasure this cock was giving her. Igwe was right. This was perfect. This was right. It must be love. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight.
Igwe had felt the surrender of the soft woman's body beneath his hands. Now he felt the change of mood inside her again. Her breath was hot on his neck, as he thrust and pounded inter her inner tightness.
"Igwe. Igwe," she gasped in his ear. " I love you too…I do!"
She stretched her legs wide in the grip pf his hands, opening herself wide to his black thrusting maleness. Let him take her! Let him do as he will!
He loved her! It was OK! She couldn't be unfaithful if she was with a man who loved her! Not when it felt so wonderful
She felt movement below her then heavy black balls seemed to slap against her loins. She had taken it all! She grinned and held herself wide.
This was nothing like anything she had experienced before.
With her husband she had dutifully lain back and enjoyed his vigorous thrusting atop her. Here up against this wall she was being bounced and jerked around, His cock was thrusting and probing in parts that had been rarely touched. She could swear any moment now he would punch through her uterus and his thick cock head would be in her womb!
This fucking against the wall had her quivering and jerking. Her full bottom was being jerked against the wall with every thrust. Instead of passively accepting her husband's thrusts she found herself grasping at his cock in a most unladylike way!
Her loins were being thrown against the wall, bouncing off and as she bounced she found herself grasping and twisting on his cock in a way she had never done before. She did not want that cock escaping the hot sheath between her legs.
Never before had sex been this good!
A car horn sounded outside.
Igwe thrust, and an acquiescent pussy grasped and squeezed.
"Your husband," Igwe grasped.
"Damn!" Angel hung in tight.
"Want me to stop?"
"Oh God No! Don't stop!"
"But your husband?"
Angel's words were muffled in his neck as she vigorously sought satisfaction from the thick length of black meat buried in her pussy.
"Don't stop, Oh please don't stop!"
The words were music in Igwe's ear.
Angel would be his now. It would only be a matter of time before she was broken in. He would have her eating sperm from his hand in weeks. His friends would be delighted to try her out!
A married white women begging a black man not to stop fucking her while her white husband sat in his car a few feet away waiting.
It was a scenario that Igwe found deeply satisfying.
Too satisfying. His seed rose and surged into the receptive female sheath like the blow' from a whale.
He listened to Angels desperate wail as she felt his seed surge inside her. Then her own orgasm overcame her. He held her shaking tremulous body against for a moment. Helping her calm down.
"Get dressed. You husband will be coming through the door in a minute!"
Startled and shaken, still trying to recover. Angel pulled her clothes straight, finding her panties were a shredded wreck.
She would have to go home with her husband without panties on!
She quickly spayed herself to try and overpower the smell of sex and the African male who had just made love to her.
She stopped at the door, before she could turn he had taken her in his arms.
"I love you," he whispered in her ear.
Heart pounding Angel opened the door and slipped outside to join her husband.
Igwe watched as Angel climbed into her husband's car. He wondered if her husband was one of those who minded his wife taking a black lover. Angel would be unable to keep it secret for too much longer.
He turned and picked up his glass. He would leave the rest for his servant to clean up.
He padded through the house. His cock naked and wet from their love making, still hung from his trousers.
He walked into his bedroom. A rumpled mop of blond hair stirred and turned up to look at him. He grinned at Michelle his buxom blonde receptionist. When he had bought the stone making business from her father he had promised to keep the girl on with a secure job.
Her eyes had already fallen to his glistening length of black cock.
"Lick me clean" he commanded.
There was a momentary resentment flash in her eyes, and then she scuttled across the bed. Her soft 18 year-old mouth slid over his cock and her soft tongue started licking him clean.
His hand rested to drop onto her blond curls.
He grinned wishing her white father could see how he was keeping his daughter in gainful employment.
Mark quickly drove Angel home. There was something different about her tonight. She seemed to have a radiant glow about her. He asked her about the evening and to his surprise she chatted to about Nietzsche, the German philosopher.
Back at home they both potted around tidying up and chatting. Then Angel announced she was having an early night, and disappeared into the bathroom.
Mark's head raced. Angel looked truly wonderful this evening that radiant flushed look she had been particularly pronounced. Had her decision to have an early night been a subtle message that she was open to sex tonight?
He grinned and his cock hardened.
He wanted sex with his wife tonight!
When Angel came out of the bathroom she was alarmed to see Mark grinning at her from their bed. His arousal defined by the bedclothes.
Her husband wanted to make love!
Flustered her thoughts scattered.
"Come here honey."
Angel smiled at Mark, successfully hiding her consternation. She was confused she loved Igwe now, and Igwe had said he loved her. Could she make love to her husband?
Husband!
Yes, he was still her husband. Especially before God, and a panicky fear filled her that she had condemned her soul by allowing Igwe to have her.
