The Second Foundation Pt. 03

He did and she scooped his cock up in her soft, oiled hands.

"Fuck! That's a nice cock!!! You are a big boy huh! Bet you real proud huh! Of your big, black cock! oh!!!" she rasped as she started stroking and pulling him, in smooth motions that got him hard as a rock instantly. She had mad skills. He groaned and she rasped and shuddered as she worked magic on his thick rod under the towel. She looked into his face, smiling naughtily as his dick melted in her hands, spreading a warm glow throughout his loins. Her eyes got all feverish like what she was holding was driving her insane. One of her hands wrapped around his shaft and the other wrapped around his head and they were both twisting and pumping and squeezing with dexterity and smoothness. Sweet, sharp sensations started shooting through his cock, coursing through out his body.

"You like! Huh! You like that!"

"Fu-u-u-uck! Now that's talent. What you gonna do with that big, black cock now that you got it so hard?"

"That's all you are gonna get. I haven't touched any other cock in eight years. You are so fucking lucky!!! Don't touch the fucking towel or it will shoot it in your face."

She pumped him with both hands, squeezing the blood into the tip of his cock and then she was jerking the shaft fast as her other hand beat his bursting tip. The towel was moving like there were a couple of wild animals fighting under it. Dez leaned back and gasped. Angela's face became intense and feverish as if she was feeling the sharp joy she was causing him.

"Oh fuck! So big! So hard! So hot!!!! Oh!!!! That's a nice cock! A fucking nice black cock!" she rasped.

Then she pulled his balls out of his pants and cupped them under the towel. He groaned and she cooed with lust. He saw her swallow her drool. Then she was stroking his balls and beating his meat like she was shaking a salt shaker. Her palm was making loud sounds, almost like clicks. Then Dez threw his head back and his hips were hit by sharp spasm. He groaned deeply as his dick started jumping zealously and spouting cum under the towel.

She started moaning and she looked like she was going to dive in and catch a mouthful. But she caught herself and jerked him till his balls were empty. Then she held his softening cock and stroked it with both hands, shivering as his thick cum flowed through her fingers.

She leaned in to him and rested her dizzy head on his chest. He reached up and stroked her hair.

Then she finally pulled back and kissed his lips, lightly as she wiped his cock clean with the towel. She didn't look at what she was doing, like she was scared of seeing something she might like too much. She wiped him clean and put him back in his pants. Then she closed the zipper. And it was then she stepped back, wiping her hands on the towel.

"What a fucking waste!" she rasped. "Hope you don't hate me for wasting it like that!"

"Don't worry. You will make up for that. But thanks. At least I can walk now. And you got skills!"

"I can send you some nice photos, to make up a bit, if you give me your e-mail address. Just say it, my memory is sharp."

It was simple and he gave it to her.

"Mmmm! You dark temptation." she kissed him on the lips. "You are going to jerk off tonight huh? Thinking of fucking me like the bitch I am and making me scream and cum all over your big, black cock!"

"Fu-u-u-u-u-uck!!!" he rasped. She chuckled dirtily, heartily.

"Keep those panties in a nice, safe place where you can smell my perfume, all right? I will be fantasizing of you and having your sweet brown babies. Maybe!" she giggled dirtily as she kissed him, lingering this time, lapping his lips lightly. As he wanted to kiss her back, she darted back and squeezed his cock before reluctantly letting go.

"Bye honey."

She walked out with a swing to her fine ass, all cupped up in her short, tight skirt.

Dez shot straight to the adjacent bathroom and blew a thick load into some tissues, holding her soaked thongs in his other hand, remembering her pushing them into her hole.

Chapter 12

That evening, he checked his mail and he had one from her.

"Hi honey. Here are some photos from your naughty wife friend, back in the days when I used to young and pretty. I was a model back then. PS, can you still smell me good or should I send you a fresh, drenched pair?"

There were several photos of her attached. They were professional shots. They showed her modeling skimpy, hot bikini's and negligees in horny poses. She was younger and slimmer in all of them, and her tits were smaller. She looked real hot. Dez would have loved to meet her and meat her back then. But he loved her curvier frame and huge, inflated tits even more.

He responded and told her he was impressed.

She wrote back and asked if he got hard from them. He responded he was.

Over the days she sent him new pictures daily. They kept getting hornier. She sent him topless ones. Then ones where she licked her tits, and close ups of her pussy, in tight thongs. Speaking of thongs, every second day, he received a parcel, with Italian chocolate and sweets, and one or two pairs of expensive, fine thongs smelling strongly of her pussy juice. He hoped nobody at the refugee home would search his stuff whilst he was gone, for they might think he liked wearing girl's panties.

They kept exchanging saucy mails. Then she told him that in her last professional days, she had done photo shoots for "tasteful" men's mags like Penthouse and playboy. They were not cheap, jerk off pictures, they were expensive, classy, glossy jerk off pictures. The result was the same though. She sent him shots of herself in crotchless panties. Then buff. Then playing with her fingers. And then toys. He had to admit that he jerked off to some of them.

She told him she was missing him and looked forward to meeting him again and feeling his hands on her body. She said she hoped he would think of something nice to do with her, when she was back.

Chapter 13

When Tom and Anja returned and found Dez massaging customers, they freaked out. A staff meeting was called. Tom even threatened to quit. He was pissed because the customers Dez massaged, whether men or women, almost all insisted on only being massaged by him from then on.

"He is inexperienced and he cant keep up with our standards. This is unprofessional," he fumed angrily. "It will tarnish our image and kill our business."

"Yes mom. You gotta stop this!" Anja insisted. "AH ah. No way!"

All eyes turned to Cornelia. She seemed very uncomfortable. Dez thought she would give in.

"Look, the customers love him. He is good for business."

"I cant work like this. I trained for three years before I could work professionally. He hasn't even been here for six months. And I know he is not good."

"Then how come the customers like me?" Dez asked.

"What the hell do the customers know? They just want to be touched, that is all!" Tom sneered.

"Then let him touch them, since they like his touch!" Cornelia said.

"No! No! No!" Tom insisted. "We cant just let some refugee cleaner stand at our reception and massage customers. What will people think of us. What about our company image."

"Tom, how about we make a deal? I massage Anja. If she doesn't like it, I will stop."

"You are not going into a room alone with my girl and touching her."

"You can come in and watch, if you like watching, that is. I have heard that some guys like watching!" Dez said cheekily and everyone laughed, except Tom. Even Anja smiled, before Tom glared at her and she changed to a frown.

"Watch your mouth, you stupid nigger!" Tom sneered at Dez.

Everyone gasped and went silent.

"Is that the problem, Tom. Funny, I thought as much," Dez said calmly.

"Tom, I wont have that type of talk here!" Cornelia shouted and it was the first time Dez ever saw her getting angry. "We have clients from all over the world. We cant have skinheads here!"

"He is cheeky. And he doesn't listen to me. I am the chief masseur here. He should know his place! Who does he think he is?"

"My employee. And this is my company. Dez massages, and that's it. He keeps his clients, you keep yours, all right! Now, go back to work, all of you."

That was settled then. Some of the workers sided with Tom, but a few sided with Dez, for they were pissed off with Tom. They started openly showing allegiance to Dez, giving him tips, hints and practicing massages with him.

However, Tom always gave him the evil eye. Anja gave him the cold shoulder when Tom was around, but smiled when she was alone. He caught her gazing at him with fascination several times. He had a feeling he could fuck her, if he wanted to. But he didn't want to make things worse.

He was earning good money, his tips were fat, and he was flying to Frankfurt and making 7 to 9 Grand every two weeks, which he mostly just sent home to his mom. However, he was restless. And then came Angela di Rossi.

Chapter 14

Angela's two weeks away turned into four. But she kept sending him photos, soaked panties and dirty mails, regularly, each more kinky than the last. By now, he knew how her pussy looked, close up, and it was beautiful. He felt a carnal hunger to devour it.

Then she would send him photos of very young, black or mixed race kids and ask him which one he would put in her if she let him.

She booked a back massage with him two days before her arrival. Dez was excited. He groomed himself and wore a dazzling, white ironed shirt that sat nicely on his muscular torso, and tucked it neatly into a pair of pleated white longs. He shaved his hair short and shaved his face smoothly.

Just before Marcel left for a game of golf, Angela talked him into accompanying her to the pool and cosmetics area for her massage. Dez was standing behind the counter as they entered the reception area.

Dez observed them from the corners of his eyes, seeing her husband in person for the first time. Marcel, was about forty. He was tall, handsome, with broad shoulders and a lean, muscular frame. He had dark, curly hair, that was neatly cut, as if close attention had been paid to each hair. His face was handsome and smooth, with dark eyes. He was looking good in a jacket, golf pullover, longs and golfing shoes. He was elegant and oozed an aura of wealth and power.

Angela had her hand hooked into her husband's arm and they looked good together. There was an intimacy and closeness between them. He could tell instantly that they loved each other. Marcel was watching Dez and he noticed the admiration that came onto his dark face as he gazed at Angela.

"The guy is going to have wet dreams!" he chuckled to her, for he liked it when men lusted after his hot wife, and couldn't have her.

"Mmmm! I am always glad to be of assistance."

"Hallo Mrs di Rossi," Dez greeted in English. "Nice to have you back. You must be Mr di Rossi." Dez greeted politely.

"Hi there Desmond," she cheerfully ""Doesn't he look cute in white, Marcel?"

Marcel now took a good look at the handsome, young black guy behind the counter. He really looked good, well groomed, young, athletic, virile. And he had this aura. Like a man. A powerful man. A prince. Marcel looked at Angela and could tell she was feeling the same.

"A bit too young for you, isn't he?" he said in Italian.

"Crispy chicken is at its best when young," she chuckled dirtily. Then she said to Dez, "Are you ready to massage my back. My back has been killing me."

"What!" Marcel gasped and switched to Italian as his eyes narrowed. "Is he your masseur!"

"Yes darling. Yunno I only settle for the best," Angela fixed amused eyes on him. "Why are you getting so worked up?"

"What happened to the German chap? Get him to massage you!"

"This guy here is better," Angela told him, calmly.

"You didn't tell me you had a black masseur!" He sounded like he was accusing her of something heinous.

"Why should his race be of importance?" the corners of her mouth were twinkling with amusement.

"I wont let you into a room alone with him! Basta!" Marcel said firmly.

"Marcel! Are you jealous and scared of a mere masseur!" she broke into a smile, an amused one.

"I am just worried," he said quickly. He cast Dez another look. The black guy was pretending to be looking into the appointments book, and smiling broadly. Marcel didn't care. He turned to Angela with determination.

"Angela! He is not putting his black hands on you!"

"Marcel, please stop saying such things or he might think we are fascists and give me a bad massage!"

"I don't give a fuck what he thinks."

"He speaks Italian. Shut up!" Angela said firmly.

"What!" Now Marcel jumped and glanced at Dez furtively, blushing.

"He didn't mean it like that!" Angela said to Dez, smiling. "But his jealous flatters an old woman like me."

"Its all right. I wasn't listening!" Dez said pleasantly in Italian, smiling politely at Marcel. "Nothing that interesting happens in a massage room, sir. You can come in if you like."

"I didn't mean it like that. Sorry for any misunderstanding." Marcel winked at Dez and gave him a pat on his shoulder apologetically. "Where di you learn Italian?"

"In Rome. Beautiful city and very nice people." He smiled. But Marcel wasn't sure if he meant it or was being sarcastic. For his part, he felt stupid and nodded, blushing.

Now, Angela was observing how Dez stayed calm and his aura seemed to dominate and her husband, despite being richer and older, seemed to bow down before him. She smiled, for her gut feelings had been right. She decided to help Marcel save face, for the question had been answered. Just as she had thought.

"Give the young man a tip in advance Marcel. Encouragement sweetens the labor!"

"Here!" Marcel said, feeling confident as he pulled out his wallet. He took out a fifty and slipped it in Dez' pocket and winked at him. "Here Maestro. She was looking forward to this all day, weren't you honey?"

"You know I was. He has very good hands. And such positive vibes."

"Thanks!"

"Tell you what; maybe I will hire you to teach my husband here how to massage one of these days."

"No problem. Just let me know."

"Mmm! You heard huh Marcel. You are going to learn to massage me," Angela said with a sweet chuckle and good humor.

"And what do I get?" Marcel responded, chuckling.

"You know my special massage techniques. I cant talk about those in front of a minor!" They broke into laughter and Dez joined. "Now, hand me over to this nice young fellow, I need to feel those hands..."

"Here Maestro," Marcel took Angela's hand and gave it to Dez. Dez took it and nodded at Marcel, as Angela hooked her arm through his.

"Bye honey. "Have a nice day at the course darling," Angela said and blew her husband a kiss.

"You too honey," he responded in a loving voice, waving.

"Is it the same room as usual, Desmond?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Then lets roll!"

Angela chuckled sweetly as she took the young black man's arm and they walked down a corridor.

Manuela looked after them for a second and he felt a shiver. There was something so erotic about his wife and the young black man. And they would be all alone... He decided he would call her cell phone as soon as the thirty minutes was over. Just to make sure. Marcel laughed to himself as he walked off. He usually wasn't the jealous type. Yet a mere masseur was making him jealous. He checked the watch to see the time.

Chapter 15

When they entered the room, he closed the door behind her and she turned to face him, her arms crossed across her chest.

"Hi there handsome," she greeted, calmly.

"Hi beautiful..." he responded, smiling, and she could see he was happy to see her.

"So, did you like my husband?"

"He seems like a nice guy. But you set him up."

"I liked the way you handled it. You are not angry, about what he said?"

"No." he waved. "I am used to it. Some white people don't like black people. Even some customers."

"Its not hate, its fear. You are a handsome black man."

"Is he scared that I am gonna rape you."

"No! But maybe he is scared that I am gonna like you!"

"Come on, you said it yourself, I am a mere masseur, your husband is a handsome millionaire."

"So? I have been sending you my panties, haven't I?"

Dez laughed heartily. But Angela looked at him seriously.

"Who do you think is above the other, black men or white men?"

"We are all equal," Dez responded.

"No you are not!"

"Are you saying white men are better?"

"Are you scared of white men?"

"No."

"They are scared of you. So who is better?"

Angela smiled at him. He smiled back and paused, then asked,

"So, why did you marry one of them then?"

"What are you gonna do about it?" she gave him a teasing smile, pushing her chest out.

Dez gazed into her face and stroked his chin.

"So, you think he is still worried? Your husband?"

"Oh, he feels good, now that he gave you that money!"

"You are cunning. I wouldn't want you as my enemy. I am glad that you are back." he leaned in and kissed her cheeks.

"Mmmm! Let me get naked for you baby. For the massage, I mean."

She opened her hotel issue bathing robe and let it slide down her shoulders. She posed sexily, in a tiny, hot, white, thong, mini bikini. The tiny triangles of her micro bra hardly covered her thick nipples and the three strap thong bottom cut into her hips. The gusset was plastered to to her thick pussy lips and the dark bush on her pubes.

"Whoa!" he gasped. "Nasty is back!"

"I am planning on going swimming afterwards, yunno. How do you like my suit?"

Angela smiled naughtily, striking a sexy pose as she handed him the robe. She was enjoying teasing Dez. But she wasn't just teasing him. She had stopped taking the pill and she was in the part of her cycle where she could fall pregnant. Her body wanted to fuck Dez. Her gut feelings told her it was time to get pregnant. Her heart told her to have a brown baby. Her mind told her she was married to Marcel, and she was being silly. Angela knew there were times to follow her gut, others to follow her heart, others to follow her mind and others to follow her body. Right now though, she didn't know which to follow. Therefore, she would leave it up to Dez. If Dez was to father her kid, he would have to win her womb. She was quite curious to see how he would do that? She would not make it easy for him.

"Listen Dez, seriously now," she held up her finger. "I know I have been very naughty with you on the Internet, but I want to make it clear that we are only playing, all right? I am naughty, but I am a faithful, married woman. Its like window shopping. I'm like, whetting my appetite outside, but I always eat at home. With my rich, white husband. Are we clear on that?"

She watched his eyes closely. For a second she saw them flashing, like "Bitch! Is you crazy!"

Then Dez smiled, as he remembered her animal lust as she fucked her hand and came on her digits, and the way she got feverish when she played with his cock and made him explode. And she had just told him that black men were better than white men. It became clear to him that she didn't want to fuck him; she wanted him to fuck her, and make her his woman. Well, he was a conquering African warrior.

His smile deepened, from ear to ear.

"What's that for?"

"I'm just happy to see you. Get naked."

"Yep. But remember what I said." Then she turned her back to him and offered him her bra. He unclipped it smoothly and she removed it and handed it to him turning to face him, pushing her tits out. "I like a smart, cunning, disciplined man."

His mouth watered at the sight of those enhanced, tanned tits that were like two, huge, gorgeous, swollen melons and the nipples that were pointed at him like bullets. They were appetizing and bombastic.

"Are you smart, cunning and disciplined Dez?" she teased as she ran her thumb through the hip straps of her thong bottom. Then her thumb disappeared into her gusset, stroking her bush. What a tease. His cock stirred in his pants.