tagLoving WivesAs is, Where is, No Questions Asked

As is, Where is, No Questions Asked


“Professor De Vries, a Mr. Wilson is calling for you on line four.”

“Thank you, Joan.”

Bob Wilson and I go way back. We were in first grade together. He now is the owner of Wilson Travel. I assumed that he was calling about some detail of my wife’s trip to Africa.

“Hi, Bob, how is your golf game?”

“Pretty good, John. I shot an eighty Saturday. Can I get you to join me for eighteen this weekend?”

“Your on. What time, Saturday?”

“I have a tee time at seven thirty-five. Oh John, I have something that I need to tell you. It is pretty important. Could you meet me at Frank’s Diner in ten minutes?”

I knew that Bob would not bother me with a trifling matter, so I said, “Yes, of course. Be right over.”

Once seated in our booth, Bob leaned over to whisper to me. “John, I am very uncomfortable telling you what I’m about to say, but as a friend, I don’t feel that I have any choice. This tour that I am setting up for Mary Lou is the third that I have done for her in the last two years. As you know, she went to Germany for fourteen days, then she went to Italy for three weeks, and now she is going to Botswana, Africa for a month.”

I let out an uneasy laugh, as I said, “She is a spending machine.”

“John, she is more then that. Everett Mayo has booked the same trips at the same time. The first two were group tours, so I thought that it was just a coincidence. Not now. This last trip, it will only be the two of them.”

I sat back, stunned. It was not so much the fact that she was having an affair with Everett. It was the fact that they were so dumb as to set up the trip with a local travel agency in a small city like Mount Pleasant, where everyone knew everybody.

My mind raced. It never fails me. It did not now. “Bob, can I go to your office with you to get copies of the complete itinerary of their trip?”


“Oh, Bob, this conversation never happened.”

“Gotcha, buddy.”

After obtaining the documents, I returned to my office. I told my secretary, Joan, that she could have the rest of the day off. I carefully read and completely memorized the itinerary of their trip. I reviewed a Africa map. Then I sat back, with my eyes closed to examine my options, like reading the pages of a book in my mind.

I was guilty, as many men are, of thinking with my dick, when I met Mary Lou. I was separated from my first wife, when Mary Lou, one of my students, came to me for help with her course work. She had been married, was divorced, and was in the process of obtaining her masters in teaching. I wanted to get into her pants the first time she was close to me. Her perfume is unlike anything I have ever smelled before. Probably on purpose, she allowed her breast to touch my arm as she leaned over to explain her problem. She reeks femininity, a fact not lost on any man who is around her.

Now married five years, I have suspected three different times that she was seeing a guy she once dated. At her class reunion, I overheard her say to another gal, “he has a nice package.”

Package is probably why she has the hots for Everett. I have seen him in the showers at the country club. Can’t think of anyone with more meat then that man. Hell, he is younger then Mary Lou by five years, and me by ten years. As a car dealer, he has the bucks to go and do. I’m just a God Damn professor making seventy-eight thousand dollars a year.

If the university family gets wind of my wife going to Africa with Everett for a month of fucking, I’ll be the laughing stock of the campus. Revenge. Damn it. I want revenge. I need to fix their ass once and for all. How? Let me think. Africa. Animals and savage tribes.

A plan came to mind. I smiled as I thought, you are a ruthless bastard, John De Vries.

I phoned the African Safari agency in Botswana. I requested the name of the guide who would take Mary Lou and Everett into the bush. I phoned him.


I explained who I was, who my wife was, and the fact that she was having an affair with the man who was to be the third member of their party. I went on to say that I wished to pay him to set up some excitement for the two of them. I offered him three-thousand dollar, more then he would earn in two years. The moment that I mentioned the money, he was on-board. He said that it would be easy for him to set up what I had planned.

What I had requested is for him to arrange for some of his friends to kidnap the couple in the middle of the night, blindfold them, run them around the country in a truck for several hours, then release them in the town, apart from each other, without any money or identification.

Good plan? I thought so. I was whistling “Mid-Night Blue” as I drove home.

“Hi Honey,” I called out to Mary Lou as I walked in the front door.

“Steaks for dinner. Please start the grill for me.” She called back.

At ten after ten, I took her hand to lead her to the bedroom. It never gets old undressing that woman. Her breasts fall free as I remove her bra. A natural blonde, her neatly trimmed pussy hair is like a sign saying, I am woman. Fuck me here. One thing for sure is if she is letting others visit her pussy, they have not worn it out. It feels sooo good. As I slipped my cock into her, I pictured poor Everett. He gets just enough of fucking her to know just how wonderful it is to have a cock in her, but she is in my bed every night. I resolved to fuck her every night until she departed for her trip.

That day came. I smiled to myself as I saw Everett sneak by me to board the plane for Chicago.

Mabout had said that the evening of the sixteenth was the night Everett and Mary Lou would be taken. The morning of the nineteenth at just after five AM, I received a phone call from Mabout. He was sobbing, distraught. I had to tell him several times to settle down before I finally got the full story out of him.

“Master De Vries, I have lost your woman. Gone. They have her. My friends are of the Pedi tribe. Your woman, and her lover, were in their tent naked, sexing, when my friends arrived. My friends had been using the weed for hours. Their eyes were glassed, crazy. Before they saw your woman, they had thought that she was an old fat Englishwoman. Seeing you woman without clothes was too much for them. In our culture, if a woman is caught sexing any man other then her husband, she is considered unclean and has to be purified.

I tried to tell them no, but they tied me up, as well as Master Mayo. Then, one by one they used their cocks to purify your woman. The Pedi men are all seven feet tall. Your woman is tiny. There was much discomfort as their shafts entered her.”

“What the hell? Is she okay now. Where is she?”

“Oh, Master De Vries. That is only the start. During the second night of her purification, drums came from the surrounding jungle. The Pedi were in great fear. Their tribe was almost wiped out by the Xhosa tribe. They have an uneasy peace with the Xhosa. In exchange for not killing and eating them, the Xhosa will take members of the Pedi as slaves from time to time. Usually woman for sexing. The moment that they saw your woman, they demanded to take her. She is gone. I know not where.”

“Mabout. Use any means at your disposal to find her.”

“There is one hope, Master De Vries. The Xhosa will release a slave woman after she has two children. She is a burden on the tribe then.”

We hung up. I held my head in my hands. I was in total despair. Out there in the Africa jungle, my Mary Lou was being sexed, constantly, by every member of the Xhosa tribe. On the dirt floor of some hut, she was being held on her back as young buck, after young buck, pumps his seed into her.

Everett Mayo phoned me the next day. He came to my office. He was crying. He confessed to me of his having an affair with my wife. I asked him. “Everett, do you think that they will kill and eat her?”

Looking at me and shaking his head, he replied, “Holy shit, John, they may be savages, but they aren’t stupid. Every last one of them that laid eyes on Mary Lou got a hard on. Every last one of the Pedi and then the Xhosa was on her before they left with her. Only a matter of time before her birth control pills wear off. She will start having babies, one right after the other. Mabout said that she will be mounted twenty times a day.

I phoned Mabout every day that first month. No word of her whereabouts. I offered a ten thousand dollar reward. No luck. Time passed. My father passed away. I was the sole beneficiary of his estate. I suddenly was worth over five million dollars.

I came to grips with all that had happened. Mary Lou’s sexual adventures had long since been forgiven. I wanted her back, as is, where is, no questions asked.

When she had been gone nineteen months, I took a sabbatical. I had heard of a guide by the name of Canfield. It was claimed that he was the most feared man in all of Africa. It is said that he has killed hundreds of men. We met. His looks went along with his reputation. His face showed the scars of a hundred fights. He stood only six feet tall, but his weight was all of two hundred and ninety pounds. It is said that he would fight a tribesman any way they wanted to fight, even with the long sticks. No other guide would confront the Xhosa. When he heard my saga, he spit into the sand as he said with contempt. “Why the fuck haven’t you gone into Xhosa country to kill the mother-fuckers?”

“Look at me. How many tribesmen do you think I could kill?”

“You got a point there. Well, get you fucking stuff. I’ll get your woman for you. Before we go, I should tell you that these Xhosa are the cruelest sons-a-bitches on the continent. We could well be in for an all-out rumble. If I say start shooting, shoot every mother-fucker that moves.”

As we bounced along in his truck, he told me, “Look, If she has had a couple of babies, we may be able to buy her pretty cheap. Money don’t mean dip-shit to these assholes, but pigs, goats, and cows do.”

Then, casting his steel gray eyes on me with a look of sympathy, he added. “You better prepare yourself for when you see your wife. She won’t look anything like the last time that you saw her. You will destroy her if she sees you react in horror. I have retrieved kidnapped women before. She would have been their fuck slave.”

It took two days to find where the Xhosa were presently camped. Canfield drove right up to the circle of huts. Naked men, women, and children stared at us as we walked to the main lodge. Canfield knew who the tribal chief was, an old scarred warrior. After a greeting of sorts, we sat. I watched the two tough men treat each other with respect. Then, in so many words, Canfield told the chief, “You’ve got this man’s wife. I have come for her. I will pay a good price for her.”

The chief looked from me to Canfield. “I myself, as well as my men, satisfy ourselves with the woman. Perhaps you would like another woman?”

Canfield stiffened. His eyes locked on the chief’s eyes, like a lion eyeing a stray dog. “If I leave without her, that will mean bad medicine. I will have to come back for her. Many will die.”

Not many men could intimidate the chief, but Canfield did.

“What would you pay for her?”

“Three goats. Three pigs. Ten cows.”

“Done.” The chief ordered a warrior by the door to bring May Lou and her babies to the hut.

She entered, naked, dirty, breasts engorged with the milk for the child suckling her tits. In her lower lip was inserted a two-inch circular disk. Around here neck were twenty metal rings placed for the purpose of stretching her neck. On each tit the tribesmen had cut fifteen, two-inch by a quarter inch patches. They then had rubbed red dye in the wounds, so that she would always be identified as a Xhosa.

A second child held her around the leg. Her eyes were lifeless, until she saw me.

“Oh God. Oh thank you God,” she screamed as she ran to me. She set the baby down. Then she grabbed me around the body as she placed her head on my chest, sobbing.

Three days later, we were safely home. I had paid Canfield not only his fee, but I threw in the ten-thousand dollar reward money. He was worth every cent.

A plastic surgeon repaired Mary Lou’s lower lip. She decided that she was not up to all the pain of removing the red scars on her tits, so they will always be a reminder to me that I have a savage in my bed. A beautiful savage, who with all her body and soul thanks me for coming for her where no man dared come.

She clings to me. She wants me on her, in her. Children. Yes, we have her two. The pediatrician has said that both the little girl and the boy will be close to seven feet tall. The little girl has her mother’s face.

You would be surprised at the exotic dishes that Mary Lou knows how to prepare. Then again, I guess you wouldn’t.

I’m Softly

Canfield wrote. “If I‘m in that story, vote a five.”

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by Anonymous07/09/17


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