More Pt. 02

As they walked silently towards the hotel she mentally picked through her afternoon with Amadou. They had just stepped out to buy a sandwich and get some ice-cream in the Marseille heat. She was quite sure Amadou had not intended to spend the rest of the afternoon with her after lunch. As they had meandered back towards the hotel, ice cream in hand they had come across a street performance. Maybe something about Amadou being so tall or perhaps they looked like tourists the performer had pulled them both into the show. It was silly but fun and they were there with some kids who had also been selected, more willingly of course. Amadou for his part had to play tug-of-war with five children while she threw softballs at him with another team of kids. He was so at ease with the kids, actually the whole event showed a very different side to what she had known. It shaped him in her mind and a hot and perspiring, quite jubilant Amadou decided he would take another hour of lunch while they took a drink to cool off in the square.

It had been the first time they had really spoken like real people. She learned of his four girls, that he had lost one just a few years ago to a sudden heart condition at the age of five. They had both kept away from sharing much about their families until then. His wife's name was Safara, after the loss of the child she had turned to her faith. He clearly loved them all a great deal but Safara's embracing of faith and spiritual-love consumed all her desire for physical love. It had left him not alone; but physically so. He talked of his children with great pride and his country, Senegal too. They discussed France and the French and before they knew it the afternoon was coming to an end. It had been odd. The one thing that they had been seeing each other for over the last six months, sex, was not mentioned once other than in passing. By the end of that afternoon they had become friends. That was for sure. Good friends even? She had felt good. No not good, she had felt wonderful as the afternoon flowed. He was a kind, thoughtful, intelligent man. Amadou had left her at Bar Casamance for an hour or so while he did a couple of things at his hotel. There she had asked herself what on earth she was doing. Having a fling was one thing, especially seeing how things were with her husband. She had pretended to have an affair frequently for her husband, it aroused him. Right now he knew she was here, he just didn't believe that Amadou was actually a real person. He had seen pictures of Amadou but had probably imagined she had pulled the picture from a dating site like she had another time to flesh out the fantasy. It was fun, but she had never yet actually done it. Well not till six months ago, that night after the disastrous company marketing launch. She had not even felt any glimmer of guilt, she had just been trying what her husband wanted. Yet this afternoon was not like the other meetings, they broke an unspoken rule, perhaps not a rule, an unspoken convention. Amadou had definitely become more than his fine body and it made him finer. She caught a glimpse of him in the shop window reflection. He was a handsome man but now she knew his vulnerability and weakness too. She felt tenderness and her arm ached to take his hand and she had to do all she could not to. The hotel was just ahead.

"If you just go up to your room I'll be up shortly. Is that OK?" He spoke evenly, no evidence of the conversation they had had in the bar just a few minutes before. Did he take her at her word, she wondered.

"Of course Amadou." She hesitated then added "I look forward to it".

"Good," he added with a curt, smirking nod as they went through the doors. He was greeted immediately by his staff whom he attended to without looking back. She crossed the large entrance hall, the concierge already had her key.

She had only just shut the door when a knock came, she assumed it must be staff but she when she opened it was Amadou and he pulls her to him with such urgency the breath is almost punched out of her and he kisses her. A kiss that pulls her undone, unfurls her like a tightly bound sail given its first catch of the wind. Eight times they had met, they had always kissed and it had felt electric each and every time but this left her gasping, wanting, urgently needing. She feels her feet literally leave the floor and in a dizzying manoeuvre she is upon the bed and he upon her, she holds her hands behind his head, holding him close, planting kisses upon his face, caressing him. His fingers lightly touch and trace her face and neck, his touch delicate, deft, and sensuous. Her throat hummed with pleasure as he traces his hands over her torso. She feels his weight lift from her as he pulls himself up. As she opens her eyes she finds his eyes upon her gazing intently. A fine specimen of a man and he has only one thing on his mind as he gazes. She feels her body heat as if from some furnace as he takes off his shirt, kicks off his shoes and in seconds the rest is gone. He is upon her again, her dress pulled off unceremoniously and she is suddenly in the sexy underwear she had planned to slowly reveal but he is already kissing every part of her exposed skin and she can feel his cock, rock, rock hard. She has to work to get a hand free so as to get a hand on it, he bucks with excitement. He pulls back again tearing her panties up and off over her legs. He places himself between her legs, lowering but not entering, his big curved shaft pushing eagerly between her lips. Alexia is overwhelmed, a lone part of logic somewhere in her head yelled "condom" at the top of its voice but it was feeble compared to the uproar in the rest of her brain. It was silenced by another countering, "But your period finished just two days ago, go girl." She realizes he is watching her, waiting, she wonders what an earth for.

"I want you to be mine" he says, then "Will you be mine?" She cannot speak but her head nods ascent and he plunges his thick, naked cock into her pussy. She holds onto him for dear life, she comes quick, in a just a few strokes but he holds nothing back, nothing, he continues to fuck her through her orgasm without even a moment to tease. Somehow, through her excitement she registers his and it lights her up, the sense of him losing control over her in her, just fucking her with no thought to anything but Amadeo finding bliss inside of her rolls over her in waves of deep pleasure. She gains a little control over herself, kissed him, over and over, feels him reach relentlessly towards climax each time she kisses him. "Cum" she whispers urgently, meeting his thrusts, 'cum, cum'. He edges towards climax, "cum Sir" she whispers and relief as she feels his final thrust and the spread of hot seed filling her, she kisses him, wraps her legs around him, holds him.

It was some minutes before they separated. Neither said a word for some time but she turned to find him looking at her. He raised himself and began to kiss her slowly, gently, lovingly. Suddenly she grasps a moment and moves away. "Oh my God what is this?" She gasps. "It's, it's crazy, this is crazy. I mean what, what, what was that?"

"That was pretty fucking amazing wasn't it!" He smiled happily.

"Yeah but we just had unprotected sex! And,..." she was not calm.

"That's your only thought on what just happened?" he countered looking quite upset. "Didn't you feel that?"

"No, no! That is too big a thing to have to start on, let's just start on the relatively minor issue of us having unprotected sex and then, then we can look at the other stuff."

"The other stuff? What other stuff?" he asked with feigned ignorance whilst looking adorable. He caressed her. Her body visibly relaxed.

"Just, you know." And if he didn't she certainly did, that was 'not', categorically 'NOT'; just a fuck.

"No, no I don't know. I mean the last time you were upset it was because you found out that I was thinking thoughts like you being 'a black owned white slut' and that kind of thing." His voice was dark caramel and he let a finger trace over Alexia as he said it.

"You are not a racist asshole, you are a great Dad and a fun, smart guy... with a dirty mind."

"I like you a lot too Alexia. Let's not ruin stuff getting too connected."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to live my fantasy with you, knowing that in real life you are a beautiful great woman. I do not want to live with a beautiful, great woman and have to keep on fantasizing." That is what I already have to do in my real life!

"But what about my fantasy Amadeo?"

"The lady in the castle?"

"No" She bit her lip. That was their fantasy, he husband Max's even, not hers. "Why do men always have such specific fantasies anyway?" She threw the question at him as an escape strategy rather than to really get his ideas on it. "Everything is always so specific and clear and linear and, and" she stammered a little, "describable". The last word was enunciated with frustration. Amadeo raised his eyebrows and kept silent. "Max always has that kind of fantasy, I mean I like them, I do often. I mean some of the worlds in his head are just well, well fantastic, and I don't just mean the sexy ones. The stories he spins for the kids I could never come up with them. And, and, some of them really turn me on and you know they become shared but they are not mine because mine are not ever so, so. " she struggled for words.

"Tangible." He offered.

"Yes, yes, that's it." She pinched her face into a smile. "I mean, being dominant or submissive, whatever. They are totally fluid from one moment to the next when I make love, I can't even process basic instructions when I am horny let alone keep track of a whole complex story! I like the idea of being a piece of a jigsaw, the missing piece that has been looked for. Like that piece you really need when doing a jigsaw linking one part of the picture to another. I mean, it's so obvious you need a release to help you manage your family situation. I don't need to be mean by saying that but I mean, it is. I feel that, I mean. I don't know you so well. I shouldn't say."

"No, go on."

"You look like a great Dad. But is your relationship going to last without sex? Are you going to continue being a great Dad if you are not happy? Fulfilled? That is always the fear I have if the sex life of my relationship wanes. It feels good to fulfil, to be the sought after cure, the retreat, the needed release. It makes me horny to feel a man's... I don't know, his need."

"My need." He echoed her with a deep lament. "I don't know what I need Alexia, you make it sound so easy." His voice trailed off but he took a breath and went on. "I mean yes you are right. I mean, just hearing you talk about these things is a relief. Safara, I love her so much, I really do. Sex is not a thing I can discuss with her at all anymore. It's just off the radar completely since we lost Marie. I just, I just can't push her. She would break, she depends on her faith now. I don't follow it obviously, I never really did. I know here in France it is very common to be atheist but it is a rare thing in Senegal. Most Senegalese are Muslim but my community is Christian. Of course after twenty odd years here I am affected by what I find. Safara too in many other things, I mean neither of us would go back, we love it here. France has been good to us. We are as much French as we are Senegalese. The children are French. I think I am more than Safara. There is a big difference between men and women of my generation coming from Senegal. We, men, weren't expected to stick to the values of our home country as much as the women. French women were seen as very loose women by us, not proper women. Women to make home and family with. I find that to be sexist nonsense now of course. I learned a lot here. I wish Safara was as free as the European women. We would both be happier."

"Did you play around with the French women?"

"No. Actually I think that is part of the problem. I looked down on guys who went with loose European women for a long time. I wasn't religious but the morality of my community was baked into me. It took a long time before I saw the hypocrisy. That it was the most saintly men who were the cruel ones and that friends like Omar were kind. "

"I don't follow you."

"Omar is a player, but he is an honest guy. He sleeps around but he doesn't think ill of women he sleeps with. He is more French than the French. The more religious men, they do the same but they treat women bad. I was just too moral. I looked down on people."

"When did you stop?"

"After I met Omar, I guess in my mid-twenties. We worked together with a lot of European women and I saw things a lot differently. I was married by then though and Safara was my life. Emily, my eldest daughter was on the way. I wasn't tempted."

"Never?"

"Don't be silly, obviously more recently, in the last year or two." He looked a little sheepish. "I watched a lot of porn over the last couple of years. There are a lot of very ordinary black men in those videos with very beautiful white women, it gets a man to thinking."

"What's it get a man to thinking?" she let her hand gently caress his upper leg "and are you inferring you are a very ordinary black man?" she teased. Her hand started to touch Amadeo's rapidly thickening cock. She turned and shimmied down kissing his torso as she went. Her tongue tasting as it went, slowly positioning herself between his legs, playing with his now solid cock. "Don't hide your fantasies from me." She looked at him... "Sir" she added playfully, coquettishly and then began to slowly, eyes locked on his, suck on his cock, gently, lovingly.

"Show me how much you can take." He growls. She smiles sweetly and repositions on all fours to get a better angle. He lets one large hand caress her thigh while observing her take him in. He feels himself engorge as her pretty face stretches to please him. She does a good job, taking eight inches or so but two are left. He lets his other hand take hold of the back of her head. He feels just a touch of resistance then a yielding to his touch as he guides her mouth on and off of his cock, only ever going as far as her limit but holding there a little each time. He lets her come up for air. He mouth hung open and she is dewy eyed. "You like that big black cock don't you" she licks her lips like a cat drunk on cream.

"I like the big black man on the end of it." He smiles at that and leans in to kiss her. It's a gentle, teasing kiss they share, exploring back and forth, tentative but eager in equal measure. Each yaw to and fro releasing a little more recognition that things have changed. Her body begins to quiver as he lets his hands roam and caress her skin at an excruciatingly slow pace. She grasps at him but he remains stubbornly unresponsive, simply endlessly teasing with his caress and kiss. She can feel his cock's heat though, giving his excitement away. Eventually her writhing becomes too much and he grasps her wrists and pins her down.

"Will you be mine?" He growls urgently.

"Yes Sir! Yes!" she mewls. It was enough, he plunges into her again. Her shriek does nothing to stop him, he's unleashed and has only one destination. Alexia lets herself. Overcome. Lost to sensation. Grasping. Gasping. Awash in crescendo. He spills into her. Finally into her completely. And she opens to him, a part of her beyond her sex. He to her, he weeps, he laughs and she holds him as he subsides. They kiss, gentle sweet kisses and she feels him leave her, she closes her eyes and basks in the post coital warmth.

"So what does he know about me?" Alexia's daydream was broken. "Your husband... what does he know?" Alexia, alert, suddenly shifted a little.

"Errmm, well he, ermm, well." She paused but Amadeo didn't fill the conversational gap. "He does and he doesn't know."

"How can he know and not know?" Responded Amadeo.

"Well, ermm, he knows about you, he has seen a picture of you even but... erm he, he. He well he thinks that you are a figment of my imagination."

"What!"

"I mean that we, we would, we used to fantasize about me having lovers and I used to pretend I had them and, you know, like if I went on a work trip sometimes I would pretend I was out with a boyfriend, that would turn him on. I mean we meant to have a more open relationship but it got lost after the kids, you know."

"So he knows you are here but he thinks it is an elaborate hoax!"

"No not a hoax, that sounds like I am being deceptive in a bad way."

"We've seen each other at least once a month, has he not thought I could be a little more than an imaginary friend?"

"No." Alexia thought. "I don't think he imagines I would do this for real."

"You think he would go crazy if he found out?"

"No. Not at all. I mean it may turn him on like crazy. I just didn't tell him because..." she thought a moment, she knew the answer but had not put it into words before. "I guess I wanted to find this on my own. I didn't want it to be me doing his fantasy. Or at least, not for it to be, just that. I kind of needed to arrive here in my own way."

"What picture you send him?"

"Oh God, that one from ages back of you in the bar."

"Is he really submissive or something?"

"God no, well not that way. He can be but no. Mostly quite dominant actually." She smiled. "You know, how I like it. He gets turned on by me being a slut."

"Does he now." Amadeo grins. So you gonna tell him I'm real?" Amadeo rolls over to her and looks at her closely, "Are you gonna tell him this is real?" He touches her gently, stroking her.

"I, I, I don't... I don't know." She bites her lip. Amadeo looks so adorably handsome. "I suppose I should".

"Pass me your phone." Amadeo commands.

"No, no, no. You get off!" Alexia is stern and robust.

"Woah there" laughs Amadeo, "Look I'll take a little picture to show I am real and then you send it to him OK."

"No pictures! I don't want to be all over the internet!"

"Of course not like that. I am not stupid." Amadeo grabs his own phone and kisses Alexia slowly until she relaxes and then lets his free hand caress her cheek. Slowly he traces her lips with his finger until she starts to suck it. "Good girl." He croons. "Suck that for Sir, good girl. Keep your eyes on me like a good girl." He brings the camera close and snaps a close up pic. Alexia's lips with his dark finger between them. He shares to her on WhatsApp. "Forward it to him." He says. He looks at her with dark eyes. Her phone beeps. She takes it from the bedside table. Max would be able to see it was her but nobody else would know. Amadeo watches her intently. "Go on send it to him." He urges.

"You want him to know." She asks.

"Yeah, I want him to know." He says, his voice rasping. She can see his cock hardening between his legs. She had thought of telling Max before. She was always going to. Not quite like this, she imagined being there. She was ninety nine percent sure the picture would excite Max beyond words. She knew how his cock grew at the merest suggestion she had been unfaithful. It was not as if Max had not dallied with this kind of thing in his previous marriage. Really she had nothing to fear, but yet this wasn't just a fuck. She really didn't want it to not work. She wasn't ready to give up Amadeo.

"You're getting hard."

"Yeah" his cock continues to stiffen at twice the pace now she is watching it. "I wanna fuck you after you sent it." He almost grunts the words and slowly gets to his feet and stands over her. He is magnificent. She suddenly feels incredibly small, like a mouse and finding her voice is a challenge. She can feel herself giving way, her belly heating. Her consciousness flitting between scraps of thought, resting on one momentarily before landing upon another, Max waiting at home, his face, his erection, breakfast, his hunger for her when baited by these fantasies. Amadeo, lustful, conquestful and needful, her belly, hot belly, recipient of both their deepest lusts, each man feeding the other's desire for her. She takes the phone. Forwards the image to Max. Then adds, "Love you very much, tell you more soon xxxx" and shows Amadeo. The grin wraps around his face. His cock already swollen, pulses. She iss given up to this now. Her phone already beeps a reply but Amadeo moves it to one side, "Later." He speaks softly but his words are wrapped in the taste of deep thick powerful sex. She feels undeniably his and she loves it. "What was it you said" he pretends to try to remember. "Ah yes I remember our first night, you said black men are often so strong and muscular with a natural confidence in their body." He rubs his cock gently against her pussy lips, using the head to stroke her clit. She doesn't want him to go on. She finds the will to speak.