My Wife's Very Special Holiday Ch. 07

He had been successful in proving Azzo innocent, and Azzo returned the favor by working as The Dr's Head of Security. He was far more than a chauffeur and nobody dared mess with him. He was Head Fixer for the chief fixer.

" Good morning Az, I would like you to pick up Monique Seaforth and two teenage girls at Manley airport this afternoon, here is their flight information and the permission from the girls' parents for you to bring them here under our care, should you need it, which I doubt.

" I have been meaning to mention to you that in the past you sometimes intimidate Monique with your direct ways and obvious appreciation of her figure and that sometimes frightens her. So I have decided that today you should not wear your chauffer's uniform, rather please dress casually and act like her husband greeting her return by hugging her. She is expecting you to do so.

"Also Az, my wise old mother always told me that bees are attracted more by honey than they are by vinegar.

"She had a bad date and a bad scare in London, so there is reason to be alert and cautious as there may be media on the lookout for a story.

" I don't want anybody bothering her.

"Nobody is to ask her any questions, got it?

"Take the usual precautions, but take my SUV for extra space.

"Take Liam with you for back-up."

Azzo replied: "Yes, boss, I'm on it."

++++++++

The Dr looked again at a letter he had recently received in the mail from Tom Smith, inquiring about knowledge regarding the whereabouts of his wife Kathy.

He had enclosed a photograph of his beautiful wife. It had been taken about ten years before at a friend's wedding and she was wearing a tight low cut dress that hugged her magnificent figure.

By getting Azzo to act like he was Monique's husband meeting his 'wife and daughters' it should throw any nosy private investigators or reporters off the scent.

He opened the top drawer of his beautiful antique mahogany desk and carefully placed the resealed letter inside, locking the drawer. He slipped the picture into his appointment book. He was in a hurry and would shred it later.

++++++++

Az knew the airport could be a bit of a zoo on most days. And he knew that young black guys would often prowl around the arriving passengers offering 'free' services to assist ladies with claiming their luggage.

In so doing they could often easily determine which white women were seeking the attention of black lovers to further enjoy their special holidays. Jamaica was known for that. The black guys would kindly place their luggage on pushcarts, noting their names and destinations, accompany them through mundane customs checks into cabs being operated by their friends.

Always talking, always distracting, always planting the seed of easy sex, easy drugs, easy rum, and always the hands moving, gesticulating, touching.

Nor surprisingly these young, strong, handsome specimens would either make their move right there and make a date with them or arrange to meet the girls and women on the beach soon after by giving them their cell numbers.

Jamaica was also a much talked about vacation and desired destination for girls who would not be the object of much interest from men in their home towns.

Sad, but true.

Perhaps their looks were on the plain side, perhaps they were a little heavy with anything but a perfect figure, lonely, shy, physically inexperienced, but curious and in need of sexual gratification like any woman.

So many of these women at home were overlooked because gorgeous sexy women could have any man they desired.

In Jamaica, the local black men showered these girls and wives with much appreciation, encouragement, and attention.

The holidayers lapped it up. Like amber rum poured onto a saucer.

In the airport arrivals area, the locals would 'take care of everything for you' and that would certainly be the case when they shared her bed on the first night of the holiday and introduced her to the wonders of black cock that was beyond their wildest dreams. More often than not, the next day he would mention beach parties,

special nightclubs for 'interracial couples only' and pique her interest slowly so that it was her decision what to attend and where.

She would never have been such an object of such attention and be a complete neophyte. In time he would suggest that she would enjoy sharing her sexual favors with other black male friends of his. Of course, it would be her idea. Before long she was pleading with him to arrange multiple black partners for her.

She would return often to Jamaica and fall under the spell. Once home she would spread the word amongst her workmates and ladies groups.

And so on and so on.

Pretty white wives were certainly noticed, admired, and helped as well.

Especially if they had pretty daughters traveling with them.

Husbands and or fathers would be ignored but their presence noted.

The singsong fast torrent of words in their strange accent would leave the women with their heads spinning, especially if they had consumed complimentary rum punch on their incoming flight from efficient flight attendants who promised 'it will relax you in preparing for your fun vacay!' a most common experience.

Their pretty daughters often on school or college holidays were of special interest to the porters especially girls who seemed rebellious to their parents' nagging to 'stay close.' They would receive special attention with wandering black hands touching their cute rear ends, with black male bodies 'accidentally' rubbing up against them. Their nipples invariably thickened and were ultra-sensitive and breasts admired in a way they didn't understand but would never forget.

It was a huge game. And the locals held all the cards.

The porters, cab drivers, and 'special tour guides' had done it forever.

A time-tested true group effort.

The visitors, however, were unprepared and out of their normal element. They were often tired having been up very early in cold climes, rushing to the airport only to wait for two hours for an international flight. Then upon arrival, after the tension of a long cramped trip with free beer, booze and wine greeted by the sudden heat and humidity, walking across the steaming hot tarmac, the general confusion, the rush to clear customs and get to ground transportation, hurrying constantly, trying to keep track of their family members, the noise, the sweating, for first-timers it could be quite overwhelming.

And then, several friendly black porters would target a man's wife and daughters with a wide grin and the answers to all their questions with a warm "Welcome to Jamaica" and tell them all to "relax, you are in safe hands", smiling and grinning and putting them at ease offering a 'free information' tour.

They would compete with each other to see who could stand ever closer to the daughters, touching them to hold their attention and often send a shiver through them which was erotically unexplainable. Then show them a 'special' brochure with photos of bikini-clad and laughing young white girls being carried into the surf by handsome black men. "This is going to be you tomorrow" was the only caption in small type, so they would have to lean down to read it.

The message was being delivered in spades. How could they resist?

It was quite erotically mesmerizing for teen girls to be such a center of attention.

Before the wife knew it, her husband and all their checked luggage were being whisked away by another porter who seemed in an awful hurry. They both had been told to 'never take your eyes off of your bags' so he looked back at her and she indicated with a wave 'go on we will be fine' and he hurried after the man almost running to keep up.

If he looked back he would have seen a very aggressive porter, a black man, with his arm protectively around his wife's waist, claiming his prize, while his daughters amusedly looked on, having not even noticed their father's plight.

Then the three women were taken to a second car, deliberately with the air conditioning off, engine running, and windows open to the heat. The driver would hop out, quickly load their handbags, and carry on into the trunk and the porter suddenly would be in the back seat between the girls while their mother was in the front seat.

All this pantomime was prearranged and went on constantly.

By now the oppressive heat was almost overwhelming so the driver would offer the pretty wife a cold compress and a cold bottle of water he had retrieved from a cooler in the trunk. She sat back and he put the cool facecloth on her forehead and he unscrewed the weather bottle spilling some cold water on her front, all the while talking, apologizing while she gratefully drank deeply. He apologized again and again in the singsong voice in the language she could hardly understand as English.

She half-turned trying to hear what the porter was saying to her daughters while the driver insisted she put on her seat belt, reaching across her to 'help' and fondling her breasts ostensibly to remove the water spill while she struggled with trying to find the seatbelt.on the doorpost behind her.

All that did was make her chest more prominent, and available.

As this evolved her left arm was pinned to him and now his left hand was free to explore her full breasts while she was powerless to stop his expert cupping, kneading, stroking, and all the while the constant singsong voice of the black man relaxed her. Soon this would have the desired effect and involuntarily her nipples thickened.

This all unfolded while the car was rolling along slowly to not hold up things, much to the amusement of the many black men directing traffic who leered in the open windows of the cab making comments about the three white girls and why they came to Jamaica. Showering them with compliments about how beautiful they were. It was planned chaos.

Being a typical overbearing mother, she would try to get her daughters' attention to put on their belts, which of course led to much shuffling and the porter's black hands helping the girls by reaching underneath them, naturally between their legs to try and find the belt they were sitting on.

The porter took his enormous black cock out of his shorts.

The driver finally told her she was sitting on the seatbelt and asked her to open her legs 'for a second' while he retrieved it. She was beyond reasoning as his hand gently slid up her thigh and pushed her summer frock back and reached between her legs, talking always talking to 'find the front seatbelt' but instead, he

put his hand in her panties and his long black middle finger was entering her now slick pussy.

Only the second man to ever do so.

The first black man.

She suddenly thought, how many more men would she have on this vacation?

She tried again to look back and her mouth opened to speak to her daughters but the driver's mouth was suddenly pushing his enormous tongue in her mouth.

This had to stop. Now she must will her self to stop this nonsense but found to her utter dismay that she was returning his passionate french kiss.

She didn't want him to stop. Her husband was never as attentive, as aggressive and as insistent as this complete stranger.

She managed to at last look behind and there was a pretty manicured white dainty teenage hand stroking the porter's big black cock, Whose was it? How could this all happen so fast? How did she know how to stroke cock like that? What was he showing her daughters in that 'brochure' which was a photo album? Both of them were seemed mesmerized by the photos, ignoring her.

What in God's name was happening?

"Relax, nice lady, be a good girl and relax, pretty mama, you will soon be relaxing in the pool, telling your husband all about what fun we had in the car" he didn't stop talking, she gave in to the pampering, the expertise of his long finger deep in her pussy causing a raging warmth in her loins that surprised and excited her more than her husband ever did. Oh God, she thought while his thumb expertly, frantically, aggressively rubbed her engorged clitoris. Her eyes closed and she squeezed her legs tightly together, trapping his hand and bucked against it as she orgasmed, trying her best not to call out.

But he wasn't finished.

The car had pulled over and was out of the way of traffic now he stopped it on a wooded path. The driver had managed to unbutton most of her blouse and was almost devouring one breast roughly sucking on the engorged nipple for all he was worth. She stroked his bald black head almost like this was happening to someone else. He took her hand and put it on his cock, murmuring 'your turn' her hand was filled with his rock hard erection. She stroked it as her husband taught her and the while she could hear moaning and slurping sounds from the back seat.

She tried to look behind but his tongue demanded her full attention.

The driver finally broke the latest kiss and gently directed her head to his cockhead, holding back her blonde hair as he did so.

"ooooh nooo, my husband never..."

"It's fine pretty mama" he whispered,

"but, oooh, what? Not now...here oh my it is too big...I'll choke, oooh God"

"We won't tell your husband, besides he is being looked after right now with a very friendly hostess at the resort."

His singsong voice convinced her.

"Go ahead you will enjoy it, believe me, kiss it and lick it and then you will love sucking it."

Her mouth filled with saliva...she reasoned that it must be normal to do so.

The singsong voice continued.

What's the harm she thought.

The back seat activity had gone very quiet.

She opened her mouth and voluntarily took in what she could, admiring his ebony pole, over and over stoking it, pumping it to repay him for her explosive orgasm.

She was transfixed with the odd desire to please him. He held her head in place and forced his hot cock deeper into her throat.

Finally, she felt him tense up and he spurted a huge load of cum in her mouth and she avidly swallowed every last drop, as she pumped until he finally put his hand on hers to signal that he was done.

"Welcome to Jamaica." he smiled.

++++++++

The general chaos in the airport was to Az's advantage. He knew the game, he played it with skill when he was younger and now had the expertise of a veteran, as did his sidekick Liam. Monique and the pretty young girls would be as safe as church mice. But he would take no chances.

The Dr had provided him with an opportunity and he would make the very best of it.

The Dr had made him promise to act like Monique's husband and hug her.

Azzo planned more. He could not resist planting the seed of an idea in her mind.

The Dr had told him to be nicer. Was his boss was sending him a message?

But he would be ultra-careful.

He had arranged with The Head of Security at the airport to repay a favor.

While he left Liam behind, The Head of Security hustled Azzo through a special agent's entry point so Az could proceed to the arrival gate for Monique's flight.

That way he could proceed with the deception of being her 'husband arriving with their daughters' as they proceeded through the 'passengers only' area and proceed to the madness of the baggage claim as 'a loving family.'

It was brilliant, even The Dr would be impressed with his creativity.

Monique had introduced herself to the teenagers during the long flight and explained to them that 'at the request of their sponsor The Dr' she and Az would act 'like' their parents. The girls giggled thinking it was 'like cool' to have a 'bit of fun' and could care less as long as it was all paid for! Besides they had heard 'so' much about the mansion, the beach, the pool, the luxury awaiting them, they wanted to please him now that they were all grown up.

Monique even suggested that The Dr had 'probably' bought new, slinky sexy silk dresses for them for their grad party, and told them he would 'probably' like them to model them for him, hinting he might like to watch them, like, get dressed! He had arranged for a limo and, it was all just too exciting! They were both feeling so grown up. They were given served chilled white wine on the flight by a 'hunky' black flight attendant who just was 'so sweet' that they gave him their cell numbers. In return, he showed them pictures of very pretty blond young white girls being carried into the surf in the arms of muscular much older black men.

How cool was that?

Everything was just perfect. Monique was pleased. Especially after she explained that she would act as an 'overprotective mother' and she changed her appearance to hide her hair in a big bun under a floppy hat. Without eye makeup and lipstick, anyone could have mistaken her for a college professor.

She smiled to herself thinking of where she got that idea.

As the three of them walked across the hot tarmac to the arrivals gate, the girls each linked arms with Monique smiling happily in the middle. What fun they projected.

The teens felt like they were being filmed for a movie shoot and giggled!

Wouldn't that be the coolest? A movie with them in it?

Little did they know what The Dr. had planned.

Inside the oneway glass, as Az watched the three women approach, his stunning 'wife' and his two hot 'daughters' every step of the way, he wondered which one the Dr would fuck first.

THE END