The House Group Leader's Wife Pt. 03

Chapter 9

A chance meeting at the barbecue had led to an invitation for lunch for the quieter of the two Nigerian students, Abimbola, from Alicia. The Nigerian wouldn't have realised it, but he was receiving a signal honour, since Alicia very rarely entertained at home, even though she was a very proficient cook. What she also hadn't told the slender Abimbola was that she had spent the holidays during her teenage years in Nigeria, as her father was based there, not as it happened working for one of the many oil companies that had operations there, but working as a doctor for the foreign nationals.

What she had told him, though, was that she enjoyed Nigerian food and would be pleased to cook some for him. In the end, she decided to start with egusi soup (a potage based on melon seeds, with meat and vegetables), followed by suya (spicy beef cooked over an open flame, which is a specialty of the Hausa people, to whom Abimbola belonged). She would serve this, as was customary, with cabbage, tomatoes and onions. For dessert, she would make coconut candy - thinly grated coconut shaped into balls, covered in caramel and fried.

When he arrived just after one o'clock on the second Thursday after the barbecue, Alicia had everything ready and suggested they sat down to eat while everything was hot. Abimbola had gone to some trouble with his dress, adopting a traditional white flowing gown, featuring elaborate embroidery designs in green and yellow on the neck and chest area, over a matching pair of pants, which were embroidered at the bottom. On this head he wore a Fula cap of gold and green, and on his feet off-white leather slip-on shoes.

Alicia, for her part, had changed shortly before her guest arrived. Not only that, she had also showered, being careful not to get her hair wet, so as to protect the centre-parted straight style which framed her face so beautifully that she had received at the salon the previous afternoon. She had added a dash or two of her favourite fragrance before slipping into white lingerie, over which she wore a two-tone round-neck silk-cady dress (predominantly black with an inverted white chevron at the waist), which came down to just above her knees. On her feet she wore backless two-inch cream heels, and on her left wrist a slender cream bracelet.

Over lunch, Alicia told Abimbola about her five years in Lagos, a place the Nigerian had visited just once in his life. Alicia told him that he hadn't missed much, and how much she had enjoyed a visit to the northern part of Nigeria around 25 years ago, when the security situation in the area permitted it. Abimbola had come to the US after completing bachelor's and master's degrees at universities in his own state, and then working in a law firm for a few years. Alicia estimated that he was a dozen years or so younger than her.

What she didn't tell him was that the reason she had been so interested in him was that he reminded her of her very first lover, Luanga, who was actually from Congo, but whom she had met when he was studying in Lagos in order to improve his English language skills. Her curiosity about black men had been simmering since she first arrived in the Dark Continent as a thirteen-year-old, and when she met Luanga, who was a year older than her, shortly after turning eighteen, that curiosity came to the boil. They had made love three times, once in his room and twice in motels, before he had to return to his home country. She had never forgotten the feel of his skin and the scent of his body, and, of course, the length of his weapon. She felt sure that Abimbola would measure up to him in every way, and that the courteous manner and diffident disposition would yield to a confident, even dominating, demeanor when in the bedroom.

Having no intention of delaying things, Alicia told her guest she hadn't shown him upstairs, although in truth she hadn't shown him around the first floor either. They proceeded straight to her bedroom, the faux Louis XVI decor of which, with the canopy over the bed and the straight-backed wooden chairs, tickled his fancy greatly. It reminded him of Versailles, which he had visited on his only trip to Europe, which he had undertaken in the summer vacation before his final year at college.

"It is a boudoir fit for a queen," he said in that quaint way of his, which made him sound as if he had just been transported to the twentieth-first century from the Revolutionary era.

"For a queen and her king," Alicia corrected him, pointing to his regal outfit.

He spread his hands out with his palms down as if to disclaim any royal heritage - something, Alicia noted, which is not the case with all men from that part of Africa.

Alicia had a plan for the afternoon, but it involved him becoming a lot more assertive - something which she felt was well within his ken, if only she pressed the right buttons and set hm off in the right direction.

"Why don't you try the bed?" she said in a level tone, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"I am afraid that I am a little overdressed for that," he said, whether with deliberate irony or not Alicia couldn't quite tell.

'Here, let me help you off with your Babban Riga," she said, moving swiftly to undo the two buttons under his neck.

Abimbola raised his arms and Alicia removed the billowing gown, revealing his hairless torso with a clearly defined six-pack.

"There, you can lie down now," she said, unable to hide the excitement in her voice, as she pondered his response.

"I would not wish to crumple my trousers," he replied, giving the exact line that Alicia had been hoping for. "Perhaps you could take them off as well?"

"Oh!" Alicia shot back with feigned surprise mixed with antipathy. "I think you might have got the wrong idea."

She stepped back and looked towards the door, which was closed on account of the fact that she had deliberately closed it. There followed a stand-off, during which neither of them spoke or moved, each waiting for the other to blink first. Somewhat theatrically, Alicia spun around on her heels and made for the door as if she meant to escape. By the time she had got there, she found the muscular African blocking her way.

"Please!" she said. "I would like to leave."

"I do not believe you," said the black man, as if reading the script Alicia had written.

"No, I mean it," she said, beginning to bang her fists against his chest.

Abimbola grabbed her by the wrists and she flung her coiffured head against his shoulder.

"Please!" she repeated. "Please let me go."

Abimbola complied and Alicia bolted to the bathroom, shutting but not locking the door. The Nigerian walked the short distance to the bathroom, opened the door and saw Alicia backed up against the shower cubicle, her hands against the glass doors, a look of hunger on her face. Abimbola walked up to her and, when she didn't move, bent down, picked her up in one easy movement and carried her to the bed. As they neared it, Alicia's shoes fell from her feet. He laid her gently on the cerise sheets and began to take off his pants. She watched, enrapt, as a pair of grey boxer briefs were revealed. Inside it (straining to get out) she could see the outline of what could only be called a giant of a penis. Part of her wanted to grab hold of it, but the other part (the part which had planned all this) wanted to enact the drama to the very end.

"I really must ask you to leave," she said. "There has been a misunderstanding."

"Then why are you staring at the bulge in my pants?" he asked.

Alicia remained silent - moving her gaze from his crotch to his handsome face.

"And why are you lying there when you could walk out of the door right now?"

"You have made me frightened and confused," she said. "I was afraid you were going to rape me."

"So that is what you want? You should have told me. I would have ripped off your dress when you threw yourself at me at the door."

"No, I didn't throw myself at you. You were blocking my way. You wouldn't let me out of the room."

"No one is stopping you now," he said, his bulge growing ever more prominent, and once again the object of Alicia's attention.

He waited patiently while Alicia pretended to deal with her issues, his cock twitching in its cotton prison.

"Do you promise me that you won't rape me?" Alicia asked, striving to sound as earnest as possible.

"I will do nothing you don't want," he replied. "Would you like me to help you out of your beautiful dress? It will get creased if you continue to lie on the bed in it."

"That would be very kind."

She knelt on the bed with her back to him and felt a frisson of excitement as he drew the zipper slowly down and eased the dress over her shoulders. So that he might remove it altogether, he helped her to her feet while she was still on the bed and lifting each foot in turn took it carefully in his hands and deposited it on the back of a nearby chair.

"Thank you," she said, her arousal very obvious in her breathlessness.

"Would you be more comfortable without your undergarments?" he asked, as if he said this kind of thing all the time.

"Thank you," she repeated, memories of her times with Luanga flooding back.

He unclasped her bra and then slowly pulled her panties down, placing both garments on the seat of the chair over which her dress had been placed.

Turning round so that she was facing Abimbola, she enjoyed the look of awe that passed across the African's face when he saw just how well preserved she was. But this was as nothing to the look and sounds of astonishment that greeted Abimbola when Alicia tugged down his boxers and unleashed his fearsome weapon.

"My god!" she said, her voice hardly above a whisper.

From the kneeling position she had resumed, it was an easy matter to take his penis in her hand. Both hands - and still room to spare. Abimbola exhaled deeply when Alicia's fingers touched his sensitive member. What would she think if she learned that it was his first time with a white woman? One of his greatest fantasies was being fulfilled.

Alicia wiped off the precum that had seeped out of his glans and tasted it on her tongue. It was amazing! Like nothing she had tasted before. She couldn't wait to drink down the full measure of his jism when he came in her mouth - an outcome which had already become non-negotiable for her.

She asked him to step forward, and, leaning forward herself, took the weapon in her mouth, or, rather, just a portion of it. Once more, Abimbola's reaction told her everything she needed to know about how much he was up for it and how badly he wanted (ultimately) to drive his hammer inside her.

She began to work her mouth up and down his shaft, throwing Plan A (a gentle traversal along the length of his cock) out of the window once she had set her mouth upon the beast. Within just a minute or so, her saliva was dripping onto the carpet between his feet. He stood there like a gentleman, resisting any temptation he might have felt to get her to head fuck him.

As far as bringing him to orgasm went, Alicia was still some way from eliciting the telltale signs that she had come to know so well over the years. Which just meant she had to get her mouth muscles working if she wanted the reward she craved so badly.

Suddenly, Abimbola began to play with her breasts. He had been obsessed with them since he had first seen them - never having been with a woman who had such conically shaped breasts. At first, this threatened to put Alicia off her stride, but once she got used to it, it provided her with added incentive to bring him to the tipping point. When Abimbola bent down and started to kiss her nipples, she thought she'd have to abort, such was the pleasure she was receiving. It's an amazing thing what motivation can do for a person, though, and within a few seconds she had recovered her equilibrium and had stepped up her pace to a level experience told her should be enough to get the job done.

When Abimbola came off her tits, Alicia knew that she was in business. When he knew that his explosion was impending, he put his hands on Alicia's shoulders and started breathing deeply, as is he were making an obscene phone call.

"Fuck it, woman!" he called out in his rich baritone voice.

Seconds later, the event that Alicia had been waiting for occurred, the mammoth column juddering so violently that she had to hold it in both hands as the sperm was propelled into her mouth. Having swallowed hard twice to get it down, she returned without delay to his head, where the aftershocks were producing significant further quantities of his precious jism.

Once she had drunk her fill, she reckoned that Abimbola would like a rest, and was on the point of offering him the use of her bed when he flipped her about and got her to crawl onto the bed with her ass facing him. How he was able to get it up again so quickly, she would never know, but within no more than a minute she could feel the massive column banging at the door to her pussy. Looking at her labia (brown with purple tinges) made him almost crazy with lust and there was nothing in the world that would have been able to stop him plundering his first Caucasian cunt.

"I know how badly you want me inside you," he said, all diffidence now scattered to the wind.

"I want you to rape me," was her simple but devastating response.

With no need to hold back or think of the other person, the Nigerian drove his phallus deep into Marcia's tight box. For a moment she thought he was going to tear her apart, but just as she was about to cry out and tell him to stop, the pain eased and the intensity of the sexual pleasure kicked in. Once she had picked up his feverish rhythm, she kept pace with him, and soon, indeed, she was encouraging him to greater things.

"Harder!" she cried. "Fuck me harder!"

Surprised that she had held out this long, the Nigerian went for broke, increasing the rate and the depth of his thrusts. Surely she couldn't hold out any longer, he thought. And he was right. But he was in no mood to let the prick-tease off so easily. Scarcely had he unloaded his cargo inside her pussy than he was hammering at her walls again - this time at her dainty asshole.

"On my god!" she breathed. "Not there! Please, don't anally rape me!"

She couldn't believe how quickly he was able to recover between ejaculations. No more than a minute after he had emptied himself inside her, he had forced himself inside her back passage, bringing tears to Alicia's eyes and causing an obstruction in her throat that mirrored the one now making its way deeper and deeper inside her anus.

"You are a wicked prick-tease!" he suddenly said - his archaic vocabulary set to one side.

"You crave black cock, don't you!"

He was building himself into quite a frenzy, but the same could be said of Alicia. The reason she wasn't responding to him was not because she had chosen not to, but because she felt gagged, constricted - at two of her major orifices, while the third was recovering from its pounding.

"All you white women fantasise about being raped by a black man, but you fantasise about receiving it in the ass too!"

"Answer me, woman!" he bellowed like a bull.

"P-please," was all that Alicia could manage.

"Please what, white woman?"

Alicia did her best to answer him, but words are a precious currency when you have six or seven inches of black cock penetrating your rectum.

"Make me -" her voice trailed off.

"Make you what, white woman?"

Alicia groaned as Abimbola's assegai went even further into her nether chamber.

"Aw, fuck!" was all that came out of her mouth.

"Make you what? I am asking you this for the last time. If you don't answer me I will withdraw my penis from your asshole."

Alicia made one last, concerted effort and managed to spit the words out.

"Make...me...come!"

The Nigerian knew the easiest way to make a woman come when she as in this position was by talking her to climax. Given the older woman's state, he didn't think it would take very long.

"All white women are sluts who crave black cock. No black woman would let me fuck her in the ass. Do you realise that? We have a special word for white women in Nigeria; it translates as 'Open all hours.' You know, like 7-Eleven."

He broke off for a while and put his hands on Alicia's funny-shaped breasts. She released a sigh of arousal, and he knew he could move in for the kill. Her asshole was now wide open, so he withdrew his penis and, having teased her a little by placing it on her labia, brought it back to her gaping orifice until he heard her begging him to bring her off, then drove it in the whole way - every last nine inches of his manhood.

"Come, white bitch!" he boomed.

Alicia had no say in the matter, her orgasm breaking on her like a wave crashing on the shore. As soon as he felt her climaxing, Abimbola released yet another jet of his snow white sperm from his jet black penis.

"Oh my fucking god!" screamed Alicia, her cries echoing around the walls of her bedchamber.