Great Horn of Africa Pt. 01

"I want you in me when they gang-bang her," Beth said urgently. I lay back, and let her mount me, her back to me as Holly had been to Big R. I had to lean over to see around her. I could feel Beth's finger working her clit while I was in her. Beth came within a few seconds and continued to do so for the next ten minutes, until I came in her.

Pre-dinner sex was another new thing. I think I like it. Beth had dinner warming in the over and we set down with Carla, our youngest, and had a nice meal. Carl seem confused at her mothers and my antics during dinner. I guess we were a bit giddy. I announced that I was buying out old man Carlson and both Carla and Beth were surprised and pleased.

"Good for you Scott," Beth said. "Let the others do the work and you just set back and watch them. I hope you don't lose any of your big customers." The reference to "big" sent both Beth and I into a fit of laughter.

"What's wrong with you two?" Carla asked. "You are both acting weird." That comment caused more merriment. Carla seemed happy to escape from us.

Later that night as Beth and I were ready for bed, we talked about what was going on in our lives. The changes that seemed to be happening. The consensus was, we neither one, had a clue as to where it was leading, and we both knew that it was leading somewhere.

"The only thing that bothers me is, will you love me no matter what," Beth said.

"I can hopefully put your mind at ease on that," I told her. "We've been through too much to let something happen. Yes, Beth, I'll always love you no matter what. When do you want to meet him?" She didn't answer for so long I thought she had gone to sleep.

"Not where Holly did," she said softly. "Someplace where. I don't know. How about here?"

"When?"

"Soon, I think. Maybe for dinner or for cocktails."

"I'll let you know," I said. Soon we were both asleep.

The next morning, I called Big R.

"Good morning Mister Morgan," I said. "My wife and I would like for you to come for dinner. Would Friday night be convenient? "

"And a good morning to you also, Mister Wheeler," came Big R's voice. "I don't know why we don't dispense with the misters, do you? I have to wonder who you are inviting to dinner. Roland Morgan or Big R?" That question

completely threw me for a moment. I managed to recover.

"Both," I answered. "Roland Morgan for dinner and maybe Big R for after dinner drinks. Do you think that could be arranged?"

"Certainly, Scott," he answered with a chuckle. "I assume your friend liked the video?"

"Loved it, Roland," I answered. "Absolutely loved it. I'll see you at seven o'clock Friday evening." I gave him directions to my house and hung up, with a silly sense of satisfaction.

Beth's story:

Holy cow I did it! I told Scott I wanted to meet Big R. Scott didn't let any grass grow under his feet. He called me the next morning and told me that we would be hosting a dinner for a client named Roland Morgan on Friday night. It's Big R, I could tell by the sound of Scott's voice.

The rest of that day, and all-day Friday I was almost beside myself. When we host a dinner for a client, I use a caterer. It was simpler, and a lot easier on my nerves. I was so filled with anxiety that I doubt that I could have boiled water.

By Friday afternoon I was calm. Of course, I had a little help from a bottle of Jack Daniels. I tried on several outfits and discarded all of them. I finally settled on a simple, but expensive black cocktail dress. It had a rather daring neckline, and spaghetti straps. The dress came to mid-thigh. Sexy, but elegant, I thought. I didn't wear a bra. My legs have a nice tan and I didn't wear stockings. Just a pair of black pumps. Scott came home as I finished dressing. He apparently approved.

"Wow, sweetheart, you look good enough to eat." I gave him a big kiss. "Ah, I think I taste of the nectar from Lynchburg Tennessee on your lips. Why don't you fix me one while I grab a shower?"

"Sure thing, sugar-booger," I said playfully. "Carla is spending the night with a friend. They are going to a movie first."

At fifteen minutes until seven, everything was ready. I was getting butterflies again, which annoyed me. I wasn't a silly school girl waiting on her first date. I am a married housewife with children waiting on. I laughed out loud, and said it out loud. "A pimp."

"What was that dear?" Scott asked.

"I said, I heard a car door. It must be him."

When the doorbell rang, Scott went to the door. "Hey, Roland, come on in." I stood nervously waiting in the hallway. The school girl jitters were back. "Roland is there somebody waiting in your car?" I heard Scott say.

"Yeah, That's Russell, or Russ some call him. He's usually around somewhere close."

"Do you want to invite him in?" Scott asked uncertainly.

"Naw, he's fine. I'll call him if he's needed. Nice place you got here."

"Thanks, Roland. Come and meet the wife." That was my cue. I came into the living room. "Honey, there you are, this is Roland Morgan. Roland, my wife Beth."

"Mrs. Wheeler, it so a pleasure to meet you." Roland said

"Now Mister Morgan you must call me Beth," I said.

"Okay, but you must call me Roland, I was just telling Scott that you have a beautiful place here. Please excuse me, while I mention to Scott what a beautiful wife he has, also."

Roland Morgan just oozed charm. Then and all through dinner. He regaled us with stories about himself and his various endeavors. Nothing about his being a pimp was mentioned or even hinted at. From every appearance he was Roland Morgan, charming businessman. I began to wonder if I had made a mistake, and that he wasn't Big R, the pimp.

After dinner we went out onto the patio for drinks. My head was slightly buzzing from the wine we had with dinner and the Jack Daniels before.

"So Big R," Scott said when we were seated with the drinks. "Everything cool on the street?"

"Yeah man, everything is super cool. Strip joint is jumpin' and the girls are jivin'. Life is good."

"What night is best for your bitches?" Scott asked. Something had happened. It was like I had left the room during a movie, and nobody told me what had happened while I was gone.

"Friday is usually pretty good 'cause it's payday for a lot of guys," the black man said. "So that's lay-day for some. 'Course every night is good if you got the right ladies working for you. I got a opening that I plan to interview for later. Can't have too many vacancies, you know." His voice was even different. I blinked a couple of times to make sure he was the same man. "I always give my bitches a test drive before I put them to work." He was looking across at me. I felt myself beginning to moisten. Was this really happening?

"What makes a good streetwalker?" Scott asked, glancing at me.

"I don't know. I got nothing but prime pussy, and I don't put them on the street. All my bitches are top grade. Some say table grade, because they are good for eatin'" He was looking at me while talking to Scott. My face felt flush. My whole body felt flush.

"How do you test drive them?' Scott inquired.

"A gal come to me and says she wants to go to work selling her pussy. That don't mean she any good at it. Before I sell her ass, I have to know if it's any good or not. Not every woman who wants to be a ho can do the job. Takes a certain kind of woman to be a good whore."

"What kind of woman?" I heard myself ask. I was sitting beside Scott on the porch sofa, and Roland, who had suddenly become Big R, was sitting across from us in a chair. Scott got up to get more drinks, and when he did, Big R came over and sat beside me.

"First of all, she's got to want to be a whore, or has to be a whore. The ones that want to are the best. They got to be able to learn the tricks of the trade, and do it pretty quick. Them that don't learn will be out turning tricks on the street pretty soon. Good whores like to fuck." He put his hand on my thigh where the dress stopped. He rubbed my leg with the tips of his fingers. "Every once in a while, I get a bitch that's just curious about what it would be like to fuck a black man."

"How does that work?" Scott said. He handed us the drinks and took a seat across from us.

"Depends," Big R said continuing to stroke my leg. "I fuck'em of course. Most of the time I call Russell in to fuck'em too. I value his opinion. Sometimes that satisfies them, and I never see them again. Most of the time I make a few bucks off their ass before they decide to try something else. Once in a great while I find a jewel. That very special woman who goes wild for black cock, and can't get enough of it. The woman in the video you saw, was one such jewel. She's made me a bunch of money and having a ball doing it. Everybody wins."

"Holly," I said without thinking.

"Yes, Holly," Big R said. His stroking had moved the hem of my dress up almost high enough to expose my black panties. " Holly discovered that she enjoyed being the center of attention of a couple black studs. She found out

that she loves it when two or more men of color fuck her." He stopped stroking me and put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to him. "Tell me, Beth, do you think you would enjoy a big, hard, black cock?" I wasn't sure I could actually form words, so I just nodded my head. Big R flicked the thin strap off my shoulder. "Yes, I think you would. I think Scott would enjoy watching you get fucked by a black cock or two. Isn't that right, Scott?"

"Yes," Scott answered almost inaudibly. "I would."

Big R set his drink on the table beside the sofa and pulled the other strap from my shoulder. "Scott would you go out to the car and ask Russell to come in, please. I'm going to fuck Beth, and Russell always gets a kick watching it happen when I fuck a white woman for her first time." Scott quickly left the patio.

It all sounded so matter of fact, as if he were discussing some inane subject, and not the sexual taking of another person. One of his hands rested on by breast and the other pulled the top of my dress down, completely exposing my breasts. Scott was back soon, followed by another man.

"Ah, here is my main man, Russell. Russ, this is Beth. For the time being, Beth belongs to Scott. Doesn't Beth have nice tits?"

"Yeah, nice big titties," Russell said. He came over and took both my breasts in his hands and hefted them like a couple of melons. "Yeah R, them's nice fat tits." He pinched my nipples, casing a shiver to run through me.

"They are indeed, Russ," Big R said. "Scott, would you be so kind as to show Russ and I where the bedroom is. We are going to fuck Beth now." He had to help me up from the sofa. My knees were not strong enough to hold me. My mind seemed frozen. As we went through the living room, Big R unzipped my dress, and when it fell to the floor, I stepped out of it, and we continued on. I was now wearing only panties and heels, my full breasts swayed as we walked to the bedroom, following Scott and the man called Russ. Big R fondled one breast as we went.

I stopped just inside the bedroom door. I think when I saw the bed, it all became clear to me. Suddenly what had been surreal became very real. Until that moment it had not been really happening. But now I understood that I was going to be fucked. Fucked by two black men on my bed, in my house, and my husband was going to watch. I felt Big R give me a gentle push toward the bed. It wasn't hard, it wasn't even an insistent push. More of a reminder that I wanted this to happen. I went on into the bedroom.

"Say this," Big R said. "I am Beth Wheeler. I am over the age of eighteen, nd I want to be fucked by these two black men. Say today's date." Russell held up a small recorder, and I repeated the words.

I felt Big R pulling my panties down. I could also feel the wetness between my legs. Scott sat down on my dressing stool, and Russell took off his clothes. I could sense that Big R was also taking off his clothing, but I didn't turn around to look. I kept my eyes on my husband. I felt Big R's hand on my butt. I felt him caressing me. I felt his finger reaching my pussy from behind. I opened my legs to accommodate him. He inserted one finger in me and then another.

"She's wet, Russ," Big R said. "Very wet and ready. Turn around Beth and look at me." I did as he said. A very unremarkable man with a remarkable cock. It was not sticking out, but it was hard. His cock looked much larger than it had in the video. "Do you want to suck my cock, Beth?" I nodded, still not trusting my vocal abilities. "Get on your knees, Beth. Take my cock in your hands, and feel how hard it is for you. Take it into your mouth, and worship my black cock."

I did as he told me to do. His cock was hot and heavy, and big. It seemed to pulsate with a life of its own. I licked the small drop of moisture from the tip, and then put as much of it as I could into my mouth. Big R's cock had a kind of sweet taste, almost like honey. I sucked and licked his cock for a few minutes, and then I realized that Russell had moved beside Big R, and he was holding his cock out to me. I alternated between the two men for a long time. Sucking first one then the other. Russell's cock had a slight salty taste, and was not as large as Big R's. Big R and Little R, but Little R was still larger than any cock I had ever seen, let alone held and sucked. I wasn't aware at the time that Russell handed a camcorder to Scott who taped the whole thing.

"Bitch is pretty good, ain't she R?" Russell said.

"Yeah, pretty good cocksucker, Russ," Big R responded. I took ridiculous pride in their words. "Hey, Beth! You ready to get some black cock in your cunt?"

I heard someone, me I guess, say, "Yesss. I want black cock in me."

From that point on, it's mostly a kaleidoscope of orgasms with a tiny bit of pain mixed in. I think I climaxed more in a few hours than all of my life previously. Big R took me first, then handed me off to Russell. I lost track of who fucked me when. I had at least one cock in me for over two hours straight. Much of the time I had both cocks in me. That tiny bit of pain came when Big R stuck that awesome cock in my ass for the first time. I do remember screaming at him to take it out, but he didn't. He and Russell both fucked me in my ass at least twice more. I vaguely remember Scott putting me in the shower. I was semi-comatose at the time. The next thing I remember

was waking up, the sun shining in the bedroom window and birds singing outside.

Scott's story:

I left Bath sleeping peacefully and went in to the office. There were a couple of things that needed to be done, and my new employees weren't up to speed on my stuff. The problem was, I couldn't concentrate on numbers. I sat

alone at my desk and wrestled with a number of conflicting emotions. I felt anger at Beth, and at myself, I felt betrayal of both Beth, and myself. I felt remorse, and I felt uncertainty. The guilt came from my part in the debauchery. I, Scott Wheeler, set it up, made it happen, and watched it happen. I wondered what Beth was feeling about it. Was she angry at me, at herself? Did she have remorse? After a couple of fruitless hours, I closed the files, turned off the computer, and made ready to leave. I was almost to the door when the phone rang.

"Hi Scott," came Roland Morgan's voice. "Beth said you left a note that you were working."

"Hi Roland," I said. "Yeah, had some work to do. You talked with Beth, then?"

"Oh yeah, we had a nice little chat. She said her butt was a little tender but otherwise she was okay. How you doin'? You about ate up with guilt yet? Have you got over being pissed off yet?"

"What makes you think I'm pissed off?"

"Come on Scott." he said laughing. "Husbands always feel bad the next day after they see their wives getting the fucking of a lifetime. Mostly they get pissed at me, and that's okay with me. You and I both know it was going to happen sooner or later. The thoughts were in her head. She saw pictures of blacks fucking whites, and she was bound to try it. The question you have to address is, was it a one-shot deal, or does she want more?"

"I didn't talk to her this morning," I said. "What did she tell you?"

"I didn't ask. That's something you two will have to work out between you. My educated guess is, she'll do whatever you want her to do. You've been married a long time, so she's got pretty good at compromising, and going along with you. If I were you, I'd just cool it a few days and see what develops. One thing to keep in mind is how much she liked what happened to her. If you will be honest with yourself, you liked it, too. I'll send you a copy of the tape you made last night. I'll be in touch." He hung up.

I got home about noon, and Beth was her normally cheerful self. She had lunch ready for me. I started several times that afternoon to bring it up, and force a discussion, but I refrained from doing so. Sunday we lounged around and watched Carla and her friends play in the pool.

By Wednesday I was busy merging my company with the one I bought. It was a busy time for me, and I managed to push what I thought of as the "dark incident" to the back part of my brain. By Friday evening things seemed to be going smoothly at work. I lucked out with my new employees. Two men and two women, and all seemed to know their way around a set of books.

After dinner that night, Beth and I were having a drink on the patio. Neither of us had said much, and I don't know why I brought it up.

"Your ass still sore?" I asked out of a clear sky. Beth stared at me through the twilight then laughed.

"No, that didn't last but a couple days. It never was too bad. I'm going out on a limb here, but I assume you're ready to talk about it."

"Yeah, I guess I am. It's been a long week for me."

"I guess so. Are you all right now?"

"Yes," I answered a little surprised that it was mostly true. "Are you?"

"I'm fine," she answered. "I had a few bad moments on Saturday morning when I woke up alone. Until I found the note, I thought you had left me for good."

"Not bloody likely," I said with a laugh. "I'm not going to give up the best cocksucker and whore for black cock around. Tell me about it from your perception."

"I'm not sure I can," she answered also laughing. "I've tried all week to play it all back in my mind. I just remember having a thousand orgasms."

"A thousand, you say?"

"Okay, that's an exaggeration," she said smiling at me. "I do know I had a lot of them. Big ones like I use to get back when."

"Was it better than sex with me?" I had not planned on asking that stupid question.

"No, not better. Just different. Sex with you is easy, laidback, and sweet. Sex with Russell and Big R was raw. There was nothing easy or sweet about it. It was unrefined animal passion."

"And you like it."

"Yes, I liked it."

"Are you going to continue having raw sex with them?" There it was, the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.

"That is up to you, Scott," she said evenly. "I'm not going to jeopardize our marriage and friendship just to have sex."

"So, if I say it's all right, you'll do it again?"

"Yes, I will," she answered immediately.

"If I say it's okay, you'll be a whore for Big R?"

"Yes," she said. "I would like to try it, but not at the risk of losing you. You tell me."

I thought about that. I thought about it and felt good, but don't ask me why. A psychiatrist probably would say that I had control issues. That I was okay with things as long as I made the decisions, or that I needed the illusion that I was in control. Or the shrink may simply say that I was crazy. I suspect that the good doctor would use fancier words to say that I was a whacko. But there it was. A calmness settled over me like a warm and comfortable blanket. It was Scott Wheeler's call. I could say no way, José, and Beth would do it my way, and be unhappy. Maybe not unhappy, just left unfulfilled with a hollow spot in her spirit. On the other hand, I could give her permission, and she would be a happy wife. And whore. What to do, what to do?