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Out of Africa

By: happenstance



I was in kitchen preparing dinner when Graham called from office and said he would be coming home early as he had something important to tell us.

Worried that it might be bad news, I asked him to tell it right away but he calmed me down saying, "Don't worry, it's not bad news," and hung up.

By the time he came back from office, I, along with our nineteen-year-old son and eighteen-year-old daughter, were nervously waiting for him in living room. As soon as he entered the house, gave a big smile, told Sara to get a glass of water and sat down on couch. We waited for him to say something but he sat there drinking water. After what seemed like twenty minutes, but were actually two or three, Andrew got irritated and told him to spit out the news.

"My company has won a contract in Ethiopia and have to go there for fifteen days to lay groundwork of an electricity-generation plant we're planning there," said Graham raising his brown eyes and saw at us staring at him.

"Ethiopia?" I wondered loudly.

"Yes, Ethiopia."

"Ethiopia?" I repeated .

"Yes, Ethiopia. You know the country in Africa," he replied bit irritated.

We had never been outside our state, let alone the country, so the thought of him going to Africa of all places was too much for me and sat there taking in the news. Luckily, Sara broke the silence and asked her dad whether we can come too.

"Yes," he replied as a smile spread across well-chiselled face.

What followed next was a barrage of questions, planning, preparations and innumerable searches on internet to find out as much as possible about Ethiopia. Finally, the day arrived and we took a 30-hour flight to capital Addis Ababa and then another four hour flight to where the project would be based.

The guy who came to pick us up took us to a well-maintained colonial-style bungalow and introduced all four members of the house staff to us.

We spent first two days touring the town, visiting evening market, drinking loads of tea and just lazing around in African sun. On the third day, Graham had to inspect the project, so all of us got into jeeps and accompanied by driver and two local engineers took off for the site about two hundred miles from town. But since there wasn't much to see apart from the empty land, we got bored and came back early.

All of us were itching to see big cats, wild elephants and other animals, so decided to go on a short safari and since by now we were somewhat familiar with the place we decided to go on our own without the driver.

As it was just a day trip, we took only a picnic basket and satellite phone, which Graham always carried with him to keep in touch with head office back home. We were out in Ethiopian jungle in our jeep searching for animals when it started to drizzle which didn't worry us initially but within minutes the afternoon sky turned dark and rain started to fall think and fast.

We knew it was useless to go ahead, so Graham turned his jeep around and started heading back to town but rain made the barely passible road completely impassable and after struggling for more than ten minutes we decided to stay in vehicle until weather had improved.

But there was no let up in rain, so had no option but to spend the night in our vehicle, with Andrew sleeping in back of jeep, Sara on back seat and Graham and I in front. The continuous rain, darkness and weird voices coming from trees meant that none of us was able to get even a minute of sleep and when day broke with no let up in rain we knew we had to do something.

Graham made a call to local engineers and asked them to send a vehicle to pick us up, but rain and mud had made the road completely useless, so they offered to send a helicopter but since it was in the capital it wouldn't be able to reach us before late afternoon. Not wanting to wait for another five or six hours we decided to walk to nearest village and get some help there.

After walking for more than an hour in jungle, we finally saw some huts and although drenched from head to toe we hurried down to the cluster and knocked on bamboo door of the first. 

A man, who must have been in late thirties but looked forty, opened the door and stood there, looking at us drenched in water. I spoke first but when he didn't react, I realized my mistake and this time instead of speaking in English gestured to him that we wanted to take shelter in his house, which thankfully he understood and invited us in.

I had never seen an actual hut from inside, so was surprised to discover that there was just one room with attached kitchen and nothing else. Although the room was decorated in yellow and red it had no furniture or anything else apart from some utensils to cook food and few clothes hanging on a line. In the corner, a woman was sitting. 

Having seen bare-chested men back home and in Africa, I wasn't too surprised when the man opened the door wearing just a loincloth but when I saw the woman sitting there topless with just a loincloth around her waist; have to admit I was surprised.

But thought of our own state quickly replaced the shock of looking at a bare-chested woman and we started explaining to them that we had lost our way and wanted a place to stay until rain stopped but more importantly we needed dry clothes and food.

With four of us talking in sign language all at the same time I'm not sure how much they understood but they did put on a fire in a mud stove and began cooking something. While they were busy with that, we looked around for some clothes to change but apart from few loincloths there was nothing else, so we stood there shivering and dripping water on their floor.

When the woman, who was apparently the man's wife, saw us standing there and shivering like children, she gestured to us to change into those strips hanging there. When we indicated that we were alright, she got confused and started pointing toward the clothes line and this back and forth gesturing went on for couple of minutes.

Finally, Graham said we will have to wear the clothes they were offering because there was a real chance of catching cold or pneumonia, so I went with Sara to kitchen, while Andrew and Graham remained in the room.

Since there was no wall or curtain between kitchen and room, we hid in a corner and started taking off our wet clothes. We quickly took off our jeans and tied the loincloth over our still wet panties and began to tie another piece over our bras but since it wasn't meant to be tied around breasts it was turning out to be a knotty problem but after struggling with it we somehow managed to keep it all together.

But the hardest part was yet to come. I grew up with parents who weren't afraid to display physical intimacy or their bodies, so right from childhood my siblings and I were comfortable with our bodies and did not attach much importance to nudity. But when my children started growing up my husband somehow convinced me to dress more appropriately, saying that my loose attitude toward clothes could have a "bad" influence on Andrew and Sara, a reasoning I never understood but nevertheless started to dress more appropriately and also made sure that Sara never wore a thong, a low-cut top or anything too revealing. 

When the man's wife saw us cowering in the corner in an effort to hide our near-naked bodies, she came near us, took Sara's hand and gestured toward food neatly laid out for us on leaves.

I hesitatingly followed her and sat down on floor, while keeping our eyes pinned to the ground, while Graham and Andrew, who were also wearing just a loincloth, joined us and all of us eat quickly in complete silence.

When the dinner finished I mistakenly thought that the embarrassing situation of sitting there semi-naked would end but that was just the start. Sara and I had pitched in to clean the dishes and were in kitchen when the man's wife, who wasn't embarrassed exposing her thighs and breasts, invited us to front room where her husband was preparing drinks and although all of us refused but since they were persistent we had no option but to join them.

After the drinking session, Sara and I did loosen up a bit but were also conscious that our shoulders and thighs were naked and that our bras were clearly visible, especially hers, as she was wearing a red one. We did try to hide as much as possible but when you are in same room with no sheet, quilt or anything else to cover your body there isn't much you can do, so by morning we were less worried about our bodies and more about rain still falling with same fury.

Graham made a call to engineers and asked them if they could send some vehicle to pick us up but they said rain was expected to stop by evening and since all of us were safe they will send jeep next day. We called them again but received the same reply.

We knew it was useless to call them again, so decided to change our clothes but before we could around three or four men and women entered the hut and asked us to accompany them. They took us to a large hut, which we later found out was tribal chief's house, where a fairly large number of men, women and children had gathered and as soon as we entered the hut all of them starting talking loudly among themselves while we sat there watching them.

After ten or fifteen minutes of animated discussion they all cooled down a bit and two women, who were also bare-chested like others, took Sara and I out of the hut and told us to take off our clothes near a well. Neither Sara nor I had seen each other naked in many years and we certainly weren't in mood to bare everything, so we told them in no uncertain sign language that we won't undress, a stand they apparently found amusing because they returned with two mud pitchers of water and poured them on our heads.

Not satisfied with that, they refilled them and poured them again on us, which made me angry and I started shouting at them but instead of being fazed by my choicest of swear words they asked us to wear loincloths they had brought. I took it from her, pointed at my crotch and asked them how I was supposed to wear it over panties when they had drenched it.

Seeing that, one of the women lifted up her loincloth, showed me her panty-less crotch and told us that we have to dress like them otherwise the villagers would feel insulted and angry, at least that's what I think she told us but who knows.

Turning toward Sara, who already had a body of a grown up woman, asked her opinion.

"Mom, are you crazy? Do you think I can go like this in front of them, especially Dad?"

I knew it was going to be difficult but had no choice, so took the cloth, tied it around my waist, took off my wet black panties and black bra and stood there in front of Sara with nothing on but a small piece of cloth around my crotch.

After looking at me for a second or so, she realized the situation, took off her red panties and red bra and stood there in that cloth, with her long slender legs, her bums, her stomach and breasts exposed. The thought of going in front of so many people with nothing on but a small piece of cloth was killing us, so asked Sara to hide behind the wall and told the women to fetch Graham.

After what seemed an eternity, Graham, who was already drunk, arrived but when he saw me standing there with my thighs and breasts naked he quickly sobered up. I told him the whole situation and asked him what we should do.

"Don't worry, nudity is not a big thing for them, they all dress up like that and won't even notice you," he replied in a very uncharacteristic manner.

I wasn't entirely satisfied with his reasoning but it did make some sense. He then asked where Sara was, so told him that she was hiding behind the wall.

"OK, wait here," he said.

He came back after two or three minutes with a jar of local rice wine and two bare-chested girls, who were around Sara's age.

"Look at these girls, they aren't worried about their bodies, so drink this and give some of it to Sara and stop fussing over your nakedness." 

I was so nervous that I drank half of it and then went behind the wall and gave rest to Sara, who finished it in two gulps. Then placing my hands around her naked shoulders, I brought her in front of her dad who until then was trying to act all sensible and reasonable but when he saw his own daughter revealing her long, slender legs, her beautiful thighs, her smooth stomach, her breasts and pink nipples, which she was desperately trying to cover with her hands, he took a deep breath and feasted his eyes on her young body.

When he didn't move or say anything, she slowly lifted her blue eyes and saw her dad admiring and appreciating the beauty of her near-naked body. To break the tension, I went and placed my arms around her stomach and hugged her tightly, her face was resting on my bare bosoms and nipples.

"These girls are naked but aren't ashamed, so don't be shy and go out and face all of them confidently," I comforted her.

Somehow, I was able to convince her with the help of her dad and she began walking with her dad's arms around his young daughter's naked waist. As I didn't want my son to freak out in front of everybody I told the girls to fetch him. When I saw him coming, I hid behind the wall and told him that since his dad and I didn't want to offend these people I had no choice but to dress like them.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm wearing the kind of loincloth you're wearing and nothing else, so don't freak out when I come out, OK?"

"OK," he replied in an unsteady voice.

With my arms around my breasts, I hesitatingly came out of hiding and stood in front of him, with only my crotch and nipples covered. The moment he saw my body his eyes popped out and a visible bulge appeared under his loincloth.

For a minute or so I allowed him to get comfortable, but when I noticed his bulge becoming bigger, I took him behind the wall and in a motherly voice told him to do his "thing" and call me when he was done. With his back toward me, he called me after two minutes and I handed him the pitcher with which he washed the cum off his hand.

I was expecting him to cool down a bit after masturbating and although his eyes weren't popping out anymore he was still looking hungrily at my body, especially my breasts and nipples, which were surprisingly erect. I knew there was nothing else I could do, so started walking with him toward the tribal chief's hut.

Once inside the hut, the two women signaled us to bow in front of the chief, who was looking at our naked bodies with a large smile. I knew it was too much for all of us and wanted to get out of there as soon as possible but the chief motioned us to sit down and have a drink, which meant there was no choice but to sit in front of all of them with our breasts, thighs, legs and shoulders totally exposed for them to see.

Although I wasn't shy of my body and many people, including my brothers and parents, had seen it several times but sitting in front of so many people with just my crotch covered was one experience I wasn't enjoying. What was making it even worse was that Sara was feeling completely ashamed of the situation. Her face had turned bright red and although she was trying to cover her breasts and nipples with her palms she wasn't having much success simply because they were too big to hide under her hands. We sat like that for twenty minutes eating raw meat and drinking rice wine. 

Finally the party broke up and we started to go into the hut where we had taken shelter last night when a girl motioned Sara and I to follow and she took us inside a comparatively large hut where the tribal chief was sitting in his loincloth with a woman and two young girls, all bare-chested. Tired and confused we didn't wait for any ceremony and sat down near the girls who were younger than Sara.

The woman got up and offered us a drink, but we refused. Then she started speaking. Initially I thought she was telling us that she was chief's wife and the girls were their daughters but after lot of gesturing and sign language we understood that all of them, including the young girls, were his wife, a realization that shocked Sara more than me.

After sitting there for ten minutes or so we were getting pretty uncomfortable, especially with the way he was looking at Sara's near-naked body, and when he gave me the look that said 'See I've so many women and girls to fuck', I decided it was time to go back to safety of our hut. When we reached the hut, we discovered that some village children had taken all our clothes, so we went after them and although we found the children our clothes had simply disappeared.

After about fifteen minutes, Graham and Andrew entered the hut and without even saying hello Graham took me behind the hut, pushed my back on the mud wall, untied my loincloth and without even worrying that we were in a wide open space and somebody could see us fucked me there and then under the moonlit sky.

Usually Graham enjoys making love, especially foreplay, but this time he didn't even kiss or touch me, but rammed his cock into my pussy and started fucking me violently, biting my nipples so hard that I had to scream at him to stop. I knew his dick was ramming me but he was thinking about his own daughter's breasts, her nipples, her thighs and her pussy. I knew he was imagining her while screwing me but didn't say anything. After fucking me, we went back to hut and sat there silently.

The villagers had made dinner for us and since all of us were tired and pretty drunk we all went to sleep early, with Sara, the wife and I in kitchen and men in front room. When I woke up in the morning, I saw Andrew lying on his back watching us sleeping semi-naked from the front room. I went up to him and told him to accompany me as I wanted to use bathroom before others woke up, but he didn't get up. 

So, took his hand and dragged him to his feet and then understood why he was so hesitant to stand up. Not only did he have an erection, but what was making it stand out, pardon the pun, was the loincloth. Averting my eyes, I began walking in front of him and took him behind the hut.

"It's natural for men to have these kinds of feelings and since women here aren't wearing that much it's more understandable but you can't walk all day like this," I said in a hushed tone.

I went back to hut, brought water and told him to "do his thing" before others woke up. He went behind the wall but I began feeling bad for him and wanted to comfort him, so went behind the wall but he froze up when he saw me.

"Don't feel bad, all men do it. I'll help you. Take off your loincloth."

But he just stood there. So went near him and untied his cloth and taking his hand placed it on my bare breast and whispered, "Come on, I'm your Mom, don't feel shy."

He hesitatingly placed his fingers around his erect cock and started masturbating, while I helped him play with my boobs, nipples and my stomach and just before he came all over my legs and thighs he buried his face into my bosom and wrapped his arm around my naked back. Running my fingers through his hair, told him to come whenever he needed help. He nodded his head but kept his face buried into my breasts.

I've been always close to my son and he was my favorite but this was the first time I felt the perfect mother-son bond. I wanted the moment to last forever but knew others would be up soon so picking up the jar of water washed his cum off my legs and thighs and then he washed his dick and we went back to hut.

When Graham woke up, the first thing he did was look at his near-naked daughter sitting there cross-legged playing with stones. He called her and gave her a tight hug, which meant her naked breasts were pressed against his bare chest and his crotch was pressed against her stomach. After letting her dad feel her body, Sara calmly went to kitchen to help prepare breakfast. Although I didn't like the way he touched her but decided not to create a scene there.


Out of Africa



While we were busy preparing breakfast, the men were busy feasting their eyes on our bodies, with both Graham and the African man paying close attention to Sara, while Andrew was showering his attention on me and the African woman. After enjoying watching his daughter walk around topless in just a tiny strip of cloth, Graham finally called the town for a vehicle to pick us up and they promised to send it by late afternoon. He then went with the man and his wife for a tour of their village.

I went to well to take a shower and when I came back both Andrew and Sara were looking at me in a funny way, so asked them what was wrong but they kept smiling and looking at me.

"Andrew has told me everything," said Sara curling her red lips in smile.

The minute she said that I glared at my son who was also smiling.

"Has told you what?" I asked staring straight at her.

"Everything," she replied calmly looking at me with her deep blue eyes.

"What's everything?"

"Mom, he has told me how you helped him jerk off," she answered as she came closer to me and spreading her legs apart placed her hands on her naked hips.

When she said that, I knew I could either deny the whole thing or make it appear as normal as possible. Moving away from her, went to Andrew and told him to stand up which he instantly did. I went near him and placing my arm on his shoulders gave him a hug which took him by surprise. I knew my naked breasts were rubbing against his arm and my thighs were feeling the soft skin of his body.

"Are you angry that Mom helped you?" I enquired knowing fully well that he was now a puppet in my hands.

"No."

"Are you ashamed?"

"No."

"Good, because there's nothing to be ashamed of. All men do it and even some women do it. And this wasn't the first time I saw a man do it, so there's nothing to feel bad, OK?"

As expected, was hit by a volley of questions. The first one was by Sara who shamelessly asked me whether Dad does it, too.

"Yes. He does," I replied after little hesitation.

"Have you helped him?"

"I help him when he asks me to," I answered although I did realize that it was getting too personal.

But before she could ask another question, Andrew jumped in and asked me whether I do it, too.

"I do it," I whispered hugging him tightly to hide my blushing.

"Every day?"

"No, sometime."

"And Dad?" said Sara.

"Sometimes."

"It's not raining anymore so let's go to river for a swim," I interrupted them in an effort to change the topic.

They stood there mulling further questions, but then they agreed to my suggestion. When we reached the river, I expected them to keep the loincloths on, but they had apparently decided to shed all their clothes along with their inhibitions, so just before jumping into water they took their loincloth off and dived into river with nothing on.

I, of course, kept my cloth on but they started pestering me to take it off and when they saw that their pestering wasn't having any result they came near me, held my arms and legs and yanked that small piece of the cloth off my waist leaving me standing there in water completely naked.

With my kids taking the lead, I became my old self and lost all inhibition. I began teasing and playing games with them in the water. All three of us were loving it so much that we stayed there for about thirty minutes and by the end of it we had accidentally and playfully touched, rubbed and felt each and every part of each other's bodies. My hand had accidentally rubbed against my son's cock several times, his hands had explored every inch of our breasts and his sister reciprocated him by touching his fully erect dick.

His favorite trick was to come from behind, put his hands on my boobs or his sister's and shove his erect cock in our bums. Then he would proudly stand there with his hands cupping our breasts, while his dick would rub against our naked bodies. His sister and I reciprocated him by hugging him and rubbing our hands against his cock and letting him touch every part of our bodies, except our vaginas.

After playing with each other as much as possible, we came out completely naked and rested on grass with my son on one side and daughter on the other. Since I wanted to take things further, I asked him who was more beautiful, his sister or I?

"I think both of you're lovely," he replied admiring our bodies lying next to him.

We all laughed on hearing his diplomatic answer. Then I asked my daughter whether she has ever masturbated.

"Couple of times. A girl in the school taught me."

"Have you done anything with boys."

"Yes, small stuff, nothing big."

Then turning toward my son asked him if he has done anything with girls.

"No, because I love my mom."

And just to drive his point home, he jumped on my body and kissed me on my lips. I could feel his cock pushing against my stomach but decided to ignore it and asked them if they had seen each other naked before today.

"Come on, you know I won't get angry, so you can tell me," I added when both felt silent.

"We've seen each other few times," confessed Sara.

I wanted to tell them how I used to parade myself in front of my brothers and parents but decided it was too early so just said, "OK."

"Mom, when was your first time," asked Andrew lifting his face from my breasts.

"Will tell you all that later on, now get off me or I'll suffocate."

He moved his body away from mine and lay down between me and his sister.

His cock had been erect for some time and I was thinking he needed to do something about it when he turned his face towards me and said: "Mom, I need help."

I knew what he meant but my daughter was there so didn't say anything and just lay there.

"Help him, Mom. We know you love us," said Sara when she saw me not replying. 

So I asked him to sit on my stomach as that would allow him to feel my whole body. He sat down on my stomach, placing his balls on my brown pubic hair and started masturbating and touching my body while his sister watched him.

He began cupping my big breasts and circling my erect nipples with one hand while his other hand was busy with his dick. I and Sara lay there and watched him cum all over my neck, shoulders and boobs. His sister took her loincloth and cleaned off the cum from my breasts and neck and off his cock. After making sure that he was satisfied and happy, we all went back to hut.

Little later, my husband came and said the African wife and man were busy at their farm and will not be back before evening, so I started preparing lunch with whatever I could find. He then made a call to the engineers in the town who told him that the helicopter has developed some mechanical fault so they will not be able to send it to pick us up for at least couple of more days.

This made my husband angry and he started shouting at them but that didn't resolve the situation at all. So we just gave up and decided to stay there for two more days. While I was busy with cooking and Andrew had gone outside to look at village girls, Sara got busy with her father.

After our talks and the incident at the river, she knew I wasn't going to say anything, so she started flirting openly with her dad. She began moving her hips and breasts slowly and seductively in front of him like in a tribal dance while her near-nakedness made it much more erotic. Then she made him join her, pushing her bare boobs against his chest and wrapping her naked thighs against his legs.

With her legs wrapped around his body like some courtesan, he started running his hands all over her body, moving from her back to her legs and then to her hips, stomach and then to her boobs and neck while she arched her body back to make it easier for him to touch his own daughter.

"There's a river here, let's go there for a swim," she said turning her face toward me and giving me a smile.

When she said that, Graham turned toward me for my opinion but I knew he wanted to swim with her as much she wanted to, so shrugged my shoulders and within seconds they were out of the hut.

I was left alone in the house and wasn't enjoying it, so went outside and was looking at the village when I saw Andrew sitting near a woman breastfeeding her child. He was looking at her intently and possibly enjoying it and she didn't seem to mind it. I went and sat down near him but when he saw me he quickly moved his eyes away from her milk-filled breasts and stared at the ground.

"What were you looking at," I asked knowing that the woman wouldn't understand our language.

"Nothing."

"You know, you used to suck my nipples just like this boy and you loved them so much that you wanted them all the time."

"Really?" he queried moving his eyes away from the ground to my face and saw me smiling.

"Yes. You used to spend hours sucking my breasts and wanted them all the time."

"Didn't you get tired," he asked shifting his gaze toward my big boobs and now erect nipples.

"No. I loved it."

I could sense that he was getting pretty excited, so said to him that it's time we went back to hut.

I knew my husband and daughter wouldn't be back for some time and the African woman and her husband were busy with their farm, so once inside the hut I lay down with my back on the mat and signaled him to lie down next to me.

He hesitated for a second but then came near me and I slowly placed one hand on the back of his head and brought his lips near my fully erect nipples and with the other hand I moved my tits near his hungry mouth. He started sucking my nipples just like he used to do years ago but now his hands were also moving all over my body, feeling, touching and rubbing each and every part.

But when he tried to untie my loincloth to touch my pussy, I stopped him and he didn't like that because he tried to force it open, but I wasn't ready for it so he took my hand and placed it on his throbbing cock. 

This was the first time I was stroking my own son's dick and that made me really wet and horny, so I began touching his cum-filled balls and his bums, while he sucked my boobs and nipples. After five or seven minutes he was ready to cum, so asked him to climb on top of me and unload his cum on his own mom's breasts and neck which he happily did. I cleaned his cum off my body and his cock with my loincloth and we lay down on the mat with our bodies locked in an embrace.

Just before evening, my husband and daughter came back from the river and although neither of them said anything the smile on my daughter's face told me that something did happen at the river.

And since both my son and I were dying to hear the story, I told my husband to go and get some vegetables from the village and as soon as he was out of the hut both my son and I crowded around her and asked her to tell us what had happened at the river. But she said it was a secret between her and her dad and she will not reveal it.

"OK, I'll tell my story if you guys tell me what you were up to," she finally relented after I threatened and pleaded with her.

Both my son and I quickly agreed to her condition. We told her our story, leaving out nothing, answering all her questions and provided as many details as possible. After calmly hearing our story, she told hers.

She said as planned she and her dad went to river and just before jumping into water she asked him if they should take off their loincloths but he said no, so they just swam for couple of minutes but since she hadn't gone there to swim she got bored and decided to take the matters into her own hands. She came out of water, untied her loincloth and stood there fully naked giving her own father a clean view of her shaved pussy, her legs, her thighs, her perky breasts and erect nipples. 

After standing there for more than five minutes, she slowly walked into water, swaying her hips seductively, and went straight to her dad whose eyes were fixed on his young daughter's body.

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she kissed him on his lips and he moved his hands from her back to her tight bums and then pushed his tongue deep inside her throat giving his own daughter a French kiss. Bringing her hands to his cock, he whispered her to untie his loincloth which she eagerly did and then placed her hands on his dick and told her to stroke him.

She started rubbing his balls and rubbing his cock, while her mouth was busy kissing his lips, neck, shoulders and his nipples. The sight of his own daughter caressing his dick was sending him into ecstasy. Moving his mouth to her breasts and her nipples, he started biting and sucking them hard, making her scream in painful lust. He knew she was about to explode, so he moved his fingers towards her shaven pussy and slowly inserted one finger inside her, which made her gasp, and patiently explored her dripping wet pussy.

After making sure she was ready for more, he buried his face into her heaving breasts and inserted two more fingers inside her and making made her cum instantly.

"I love you, Dad. I love you," she repeated wrapping her arms tightly around his back and resting her face on his shoulders.

"I love you, too," he said running his fingers through her brown hair falling over her naked shoulders.

Then lifting her in his arms, he brought her to shore where he made her go down on her knees and suck his cock. Since this was the first time she was taking a fully grown man's dick, she was having difficulty in taking the whole of it, but he worked with her slowly and by the end of it she became a pro, or as he said, "You're as good as your mom."

A compliment she said she would never forget. She told us she was ready to swallow his cum but he wanted her to take one step a time, so he came on her face and hands and then made her lick his cum off her hands while he watched her.

"Didn't he want to do it?" I asked.

"Yes he did, but was afraid that somebody might see us but has promised that he would do it when there's some privacy."

My son asked her whether Dad's cock was big.

"Yes, it's. At first I was having difficulty in taking the whole of it in my mouth but when he said Mom takes it easily I decided to show him that I can do it, too."

"Mom, are you able to take all of it?" asked my son when he heard her say that.

"Yes, but then I'm much more experienced."

"Mom, when was the first time you took it inside your mouth?" enquired Sara.

"Many years ago. I was younger than you."

"Who was he?" she asked.

"A friend."

Although in reality he was a 50-year-old neighbor and he was also the first person to put his fingers inside my pussy. Turning the conversation back to my daughter, I asked her if she wants her dad to be her first lover.

"Yes, Mom. I really want Dad to be my first lover."

I asked her again if she was sure.

"Please, Mom, I want him," she said coming near me and pressing her breasts against mine in a hug.

"OK. I'll see what can be done." 

By now all three of us were very aroused and my son was having difficulty in controlling his cock so his sister untied his loincloth and started masturbating him and within seconds he came all over her breasts and stomach.

Later in the evening I asked the African man and woman in sign language whether there was any empty hut where the four of us could sleep as this hut was too crowded for all six of us. When they understood what I was trying to say, they took me to a hut that was smaller than theirs but at least it offered us privacy. With that done, I went and asked my husband if he wanted to make love to his daughter. He replied only if it was fine with me.

I said I was but I think I should be with her as this will be her first time and I don't want her to get scared.

"Yes, I think that would be good for her."

"Do you want to do it tonight?"

"Yes."

"OK, I'll arrange it."

We went back to hut where others were waiting for us for dinner. After the meal, told the family members that it was time for bed and herded them back to new hut. Once inside, we placed the sleeping mats, lighted some more oil lamps, drank bottles of local brew and while my son and husband created music with their fingers on some tin cans they had found my daughter and I danced in front of them.

After watching our near-naked bodies dancing sensually in front of them, my husband and son too joined in and by the time we finished dancing we were all drunk and my daughter had taken off her loincloth and was completely naked, with her shaven pussy and lips clearly visible.

We lay there for several minutes, with our breasts, thighs, legs, arms and cocks on top of each other. Then we got up and my daughter and son went to kitchen-cum-room to sleep, while my husband and I lay down in front room.

Later in night, I got up and slowly woke my daughter up, who was sleeping nude, and whispered to her that it was time. She rubbed her eyes, took a deep breath and walked with me to front room where her dad was already stroking his erect cock.

"Don't worry, we love you, everything will be all right. Now lie down and make Dad happy, OK?"

She nodded her head. After she was on mat, I went to her and spread her legs, revealing her lips to her father, who began kissing her toes and patiently made his way up. By the time, his lips had reached her stomach, she was already moaning and when he put his finger inside her pussy she started dripping.

I went and lay down next to her and placed my arm on the back of her head to give her some support. Her dad always loved foreplay and was now showering her long legs, her thighs, her stomach and her perky breasts and pink nipples with his kisses.

While I held her head under my arms, he slowly started caressing her young body, patiently touching her with the tip of his fingers and moving his tongue from her legs to her back and then to her nipples and to her face, which was now red in ecstasy. The more she moaned and writhed, more slowly he made love to her body, which just drove her crazy.

When he brought his cock near her pussy she looked at me in panic with her blue eyes but I brought my nipples to her mouth and buried her face into my breasts, while her dad slowly entered her virgin hole. She tried to get up, but I kept her face buried into my boobs and then she screamed a bit, a confirming that she had been deflowered by her own dad. 

After initially hesitating, he now started to really ram his cock inside her and though she begged and screamed at him to stop - and even I felt he should be gentler with her - he just kept fucking her until he was completely spent.

"I love you. Thank you," he said kissing her cheeks and nipples and his cum inside his own daughter's pussy.

"I love you, too, Dad. It was awesome. Thanks," she replied smiling and hugging him.

I gave her a glass of water and took her to back of the room where my son was sitting and watching us.

"Mommy will make you happy, too. Promise," I comforted him kissing his lips. 

Went back to front room, took a shot of the local brew, dimmed the oil lamps and crept back to back room to my son who was waiting for his mom.

Untying our loincloths, sat on him and started making love to my son. Taking his hands, placed them on my breasts and then brought my big boobs to his mouth and he started licking and biting them while his hands glided from my back to bums and then to my thighs and back again to my breasts, nipples and neck.

"Ram it inside her, she would love it. Fuck her, ram it in," ordered my daughter watching us.

When I looked at her talking like that she smiled and kissed me on my lips. Her brother, whose hands were until now all over my breasts, cupped his sister's breasts and started feeling them, so she came nearer and gave her nipples to his hungry mouth to suckle.

The sight of my daughter giving her nipples to her younger brother to suckle while his cock was fucking me was too much and surprisingly I came before he did. Both my son and I lay there on top of each other while my daughter played with my breasts. When she started sucking my nipples, I asked her if she again wanted to make her daddy happen. She said yes, so told her to go and make him proud.




Out of Africa



I don't know if my husband was watching me getting fucked by my own son or not but when he saw his daughter walking towards him, with her shaven pussy glistening wet and her breasts heaving, he gave her a big smile.

"I know you want your sister, but let Daddy have her today and tomorrow you can have her, OK?" I said turning toward my son.

Then he started getting up so asked him where he was going. He pointed towards his cock, which was still half erect, and said to pee.

"There's no bathroom near this hut, so will come with you." And got up to go with him.

When we crossed the front room to go outside, saw my daughter riding her dad while his finger was inside her back hole. When she saw us, she stopped riding him, called me and placing her hands around my naked bums kissed my pussy lips.

"You're the best daughter," I said patting her head.

My son and I went outside the hut, sat down facing each other on grass and peed in front of each other without any shame or inhibition. We stayed there for some time looking at the night sky and stars and by the time we went back inside the hut my husband was already sleeping, while my daughter was sitting in the back room waiting for us.

I took my mat, my son's mat and joined them with my daughter's mat and all three of us went to sleep lying as close to each other as possible. When I drifted off to sleep, my son was sucking one of my nipples while my daughter was sucking the other.



Out of Africa



Chapter I

All this happened to me over forty years ago in Africa, in a world that was slowly adapting to a future without its former white rulers. It was an exciting time and for a young man fresh out of veterinary college it was the place to go for adventure before settling down into the family practice. In those days a government scheme for voluntary service was in operation and I applied soon after I qualified. After some initial training, I was lucky enough to get one of the plum assignments up-country, working in one of the new tourist game reserves. I couldn't wait to get started, so not long afterwards, a very green VSO volunteer emerged from a tiny 'plane onto a dusty airfield at the end of a bumpy flight from the Capital. 

Any dreams I may have had of being a 'Great White Hunter' were soon shattered when I learnt that I would be spending most of my time surveying the native cattle for signs of disease. My boss–a dour Rhodesian–kitted me out with a Land Rover with a broken windshield; two jolly African park rangers,(poachers were rife in the area) and a young black technician, who for reasons that will become apparent, I'll call Patrick.

A sheaf of notes, a map and a few battered surgical instruments were my stock in trade for the days that followed; Patrick and I tested, injected and measured hundreds of the bony, humpbacked cattle that roamed the plains. The local Muran Masai herdsmen were a terrific bunch––friendly, hospitable and highly amused by our antics as we tried to examine their charges. When the day's work was done, we would take our battered old Land Rover far out into the bush and Patrick would introduce me to the spectacular wildlife that surrounded us. He had a wealth of knowledge and I soon became his willing pupil––just as he was mine during the working day. 

Patrick and I got on really well together, but try as I might, I couldn't break through his reserved manner. At first I put it down to his innate shyness, but I soon realised that I was dealing with the old colonial attitude and that the colour of our skins somehow set us apart. For someone fresh from rural England, where a black face was still a rarity, I found it hard to understand. 

Although we were about the same age and alike in many ways, our upbringing couldn't have been more different: It had always been assumed that I would become a vet. and follow my father into his country practice, but Patrick had only his brains and determination to see him through. I resolved to help him as much as I could, and a call to my father over a crackling 'phone line eventually resulted in the arrival of a box of my old textbooks from England. I felt a pang of conscience as I unpacked them, for some had hardly been opened, but Patrick handled them with reverence. It gave me a good feeling to know that they would be cherished, rather than left to gather dust at home. With the books came a gift for him from my father; a carefully wrapped parcel containing a stethoscope and a small kit of surgical instruments. Patrick was ecstatic when he saw them and threw his arms around me and hugged me hard. His joy was infectious and we capered around the campsite like a pair of idiots, while our two park rangers looked on in bewilderment. The last barrier between us had gone and I was seeing the real Patrick for the first time. Our friendship began then and there and still remains firm after all these years.





Out of Africa



Even as he started to stroke on his brother's cock, Earnest began to rock his hips in a slow steady rhythm, so that his cock slipped back and forth between my tightly pursed lips. After a while, his thrusts became faster and more energetic until I felt his perky little cock suddenly harden and press tightly against the roof of my mouth. Eager to assist, I reached up to fondle his tight black scrotum just in time to feel the two hard lumps inside suddenly migrate to the root of his cock––his 'magic moment' had arrived! He gave a funny little gasping yelp and I felt the tip of his cock suddenly emerge fully from its long skinny sheath to land with a tiny plop onto my tongue. I was so excited that even as I felt the first warm dribble of his cum on my tongue; my own sperm began to pump on its short journey into Patrick's mouth. For a few moments, I forgot everything else as I revelled in the delight of my release, but I awoke with a start as I felt a stream of warm droplets splash heavily onto my belly––surely I was still being held safely between Patrick's full lips? Puzzled, I looked down just in time to see Earnest squeeze the last few sticky blobs of sperm from his brother's softening cock onto my belly. I lay back on the pillow with a satisfied grin. Patrick must have erupted at the same instant as Ernest and myself: Between the three of us we had scored a stunning sexual hat trick!

Patrick turned to look severely at his kid brother and spoke a few words of rapid dialect to him and I saw the boy nod vigorously before giving me a startled glance. He took a sudden step backwards, pulling his cock out of my mouth so quickly that his shiny cockhead shrank back into its sheath like a frightened pink animal. . 

"What did you say to him?" I asked Patrick. 

His teeth flashed white in the gloom as he gave me a broad grin. 

"I told him that if he ever breathed a word of this, I would tell the 'bwana' to bite off his manhood!"





Out of Africa



No graphic sex, no wives hung out to dry and only one person killed. 

Sorry, but you've been warned.

Please enjoy. 

+++++++++++++ 

The great door to the old Victorian building that housed the prison clanged shut! 

Imposing though the building undoubtedly was, I, like many before me, preyed silently that I'd never have to see the damn thing again.

Twelve months!

A year with my life on hold, waiting for this day, waiting to see whether I still really had a family. 

Waiting to see whether the beautiful young woman who now stood there nervously before me, could forgive me for what I'd done, and whether once we were back in the real world, I could return the favour.

It could have been worse; much worse really, so I couldn't complain.

A two year sentence, reduced for good behaviour, and now the nightmare was over. At least that part of it was over, and now to see if another part was beginning.

I'd killed a man you see. 

Killed him in cold blood, though even now, I couldn't honestly bring myself to regret it. 

------------------

------------------

"Is this where I get my ticket?" This vision of loveliness asked me as I stood guard at the door to the local village dance.

"You could ......" I started to say before cutting myself off abruptly. A girl like that probably didn't want to know that she could have my ticket anytime she wanted.

"Yes," I carried on. "Two pounds please."

Ok ---- Not quite so catchy as what I'd intended, but it did draw a smile from the sweet young thing.

"Are they any good this group?" she asked, all bright eyed and beautiful.

"Terrible," I replied. "But the beer is good and the company friendly."

"How friendly?"

"See me in the bar in twenty minutes and find out," I shot back.

"I just might do that," the pretty little dark haired beauty smiled back at me, as she took the ticket from me and slid her slim shapely body past me into the church hall where the music was blaring out, that sexy little swing of her hips, hopefully, perhaps just maybe for my benefit.

Bloody hell!

-----------------------

Some time later, my turn at the door over, I found myself at the bar chewing the cud with a group of pals, and informing one another what we might do with every pretty girl who passed by.

As if!

"Any of you see the pretty little dark haired girl who turned up a while ago?" I asked casually, taking a swig from my pint. "Who is she?"

"No idea who you mean, Dave" replied Fred, and the other two shook their heads in agreement.

"The one with the legs," I added tentatively.

"Oh her," butted in Alf with a grin, the others doing likewise.

"That'd be Eve Meadows," joined in Joe. 

"Eve Meadows," I repeated. "Never heard of her."

"You wouldn't have Dave," Joe threw in. "She got religion a few years before you moved down this way."

"We've all been to Church from time to time Joe," I reasoned with him.

"Yer Dave," he came back. "But her, she went there for God she did, not to meet up with boys."

Mmmmmm!

How odd! We all nodded at one another, all more or less in agreement.

"She wasn't wearing the sort of skirt that most girls would wear to church," I pointed out, still eager to find out a little more about her, though the church bit didn't exactly excite me overly.

"Most girls that go to church don't have legs like hers," sniggered Alf, pulling a face.

"Most women don't have legs like Eve, full stop," laughed out Fred, and we all joined his laughter ---- you know ---- the way real men do.

"Was a bit short wasn't it?" carried on Alf after the laughter died down.

"Bloody short," threw in Joe, nodding his head in reflection.

"Never seen her in a skirt that short before," commented Fred, who seemed to have known her for the longest.

"Nice pair of pins though," I threw into the mix.

"Yes," they all agreed. Eve Meadows had a pretty fantastic pair of pins, and was showing an incredibly high percentage of them off that night, between her little pelmet of a skirt and her dainty high heels.

"Not much in the boob department though," mentioned Alf. Well he would wouldn't he ---- He never dated any girl with less than a huge handful and a bit left over.

"With legs like that a girl wouldn't need big tits," I pointed out, and it was no surprise that not one of them deigned to argue.

"D'you think it really was her that did that streak?" Fred asked after a few minutes, peeking my interest.

"What streak?" I demanded, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

"At the rugby club a few years back," reminisced Fred. "We'd just beaten Kettering and won the league."

"And she did a streak after the match?" I gasped out. 

"If it was her," pointed out Alf.

"Naked?"

"Except for trainers and a mask," confirmed Fred. "Absolutely starkers."

"Doesn't sound like the sort of thing a church going girl would do."

"That was before she got so involved in the church," piped up Joe as if that explained it all.

"But why did you think it was her?" I followed up with. "If she had a mask on."

"The legs Dave," Fred informed me as if I was a bit dense. "She would still have been a school girl back then, and was a bit on the skinny side, but she always had great legs."

No tits though," Alf put his penneth in. "Never did have." But everyone ignored him.

"But she never admitted it then?" I probed; more than turned on by the thought of a girl brave enough to do something like that. Forgetting in the heat of the moment that what my first wife ended up getting up to after doing something not dissimilar had ultimately led to our divorce. 

That was different though, as Eve hadn't done it at her office Christmas party, and hadn't ran into the stationary store, and let three of her male colleagues catch her.

"No," went on Joe. "Never admitted it, but never denied it."

"When she finished school, she left the this area and ended up in Africa somewhere, and we never saw much more of her after that."

"What a waste," murmured Fred, but before I could press them further, two of their wives turned up and the subject of the lovely Eve was promptly dropped from our conversation.

----------------------

"You're right," a musical voice beside me at the bar said to me some half an hour later, as I waited to be served. "The band was terrible."

Oh Hi," I responded, a bit lost for words for once in my life.

"Can you get me a coke please?" she asked me, offering me some money.

How couldn't I? ---- And of course I didn't take her money.

Twenty minutes later we left the village hall, hand in hand, and if my pals were still waiting for the round of drinks I'd been sent for, then they'd be a long time waiting, wouldn't they?

I walked her home and we talked all the way. I discovered she was in her late twenties, about two years younger than me. 

That seemed just about right to me, and the simple kiss that she bestowed upon me when I left her at her door stayed imprinted on my memory for hours afterwards.

-------------------

The very next night, not being one to let the grass grow under my feet, I picked Eve up and whisked her away to a swish restaurant. When she'd opened the door she fairly took my breath away. Some women know what their best features are and I guess Eve was one of them; my eyes being treated to her slim body encased in a tight dark crepe dress, that seemed to mould itself around those delightful little breasts of hers, and came to an abrupt stop so high up her shapely thighs that I couldn't hide my reaction. 

"It's new," Eve told me nervously. "Do you think it's too short?"

"It's fantastic," I gasped in admiration.

"Maybe," she giggled. "But is it too short?"

"Give me a twirl," I instructed my date, and she obliged, spinning around slowly on her three-inch high heels.

By Golly she was gorgeous, and it was difficult to tear my eyes away from those legs to take in how her long brown hair framed her cute face and tumbled down to her shoulders.

Mine --- all mine for the evening at least ------ Bloody unbelievable.

"When you've put your tongue away Dave," she smiled at me. "Is the dress too short or not?"

"Far too short," I joked back to her. "You could get arrested."

"I could always go and change into something else," Eve answered uncertainly.

"No damn way," I insisted, and took her arm and led a still giggling Eve out to my waiting car.

Now at this point I should perhaps point out that I was doing Ok financially, and drove a low slung TVR sports car, and helping Eve getting into the car with that dress on would almost warrant a short story on it's own. Let's just say that by the time I pulled away from the kerb, I was comfortable in the knowledge that my date did indeed have panties on, and that they were white, very small and had little blue flowers embroided along the top.

Wow ---- Was I looking forward to that evening.

--------------------

The evening passed extremely pleasantly, me telling her tit-bits about my previous life and her filling in a few gaps that my pals hadn't told me. Not, as it turned out, that they knew that much about her. Not only had the girl got into religion in her last years at school, but she'd carried it on through her college days, where she'd qualified to be a teacher, and eventually found herself in Kenya working in a missionary school, teaching young African kids.

Eve had very obviously enjoyed her experience out there, but was strangely reticent about explaining why she'd come back.

"It was just the right time," she explained shortly. "Some things changed and it simply didn't suit me any more."

There was quite clearly more to it than met the eye, but at the time I was more interested in how an ex missionary girl might react to my advances, than why she'd packed it all in. Well, a couple of hours later I found out of course, and I have to confess that I didn't go home disappointed. I certainly didn't end up in bed with her you understand, but the way she kissed and nestled her slim body into mine as we said our goodnights at her doorway promised fine things in the future.

And so, of course, it came to pass.

The two of us discovered to our joy, that we suited one another in so many ways. Had our differences of course, especially the religious bit, but they just seemed to accentuate quite what a great couple we made. Very early in our relationship, I asked Eve if she would move in with me, but of course, her being a churchy type of girl, she hesitated. Actually, let's be honest here, she simply said NO.

No, she couldn't as it wouldn't be right, and would be frowned on by her parents and all the people at her church.

I could understand, sort of, but wasn't at all happy. I brooded for a bit, sulked a little, and even cancelled a date or two, but quickly came to the conclusion that all I was doing was hurting the pair of us.

Trouble is that I'd fallen in love with the damn girl, and felt pretty certain that she felt the same way about yours truly.

So, just four or five months after we'd started dating, I surprised the pair of us one evening by popping the question!

In fact I had thought it out, and I was thirty and Eve not far from that magic number, and I somehow knew that we were ready for it. I'd got to that stage where most of my pals, the normal ones that is, were having kids and enjoying their families.

I wanted the same thing for myself, and I'd never met a woman that I wanted to settle down with so badly before, and that included my first wife; the bitch.

So, there we were. I asked her to marry me, and her eyes brightened, her face broke into a smile, and then .....

Then she burst into tears and they didn't seem to be tears of joy.

"I can't marry you Dave," she sobbed when I asked her what was wrong. "There's things about me that you don't know."

Well, you can imagine the thoughts that a statement like that created. Anyway, a bit of cajoling and even pleading, and Eve at last admitted what her problem was.

"Dave, do you ever wonder why I never invite you in when you pick me up and drop me off?" She started nervously.

"Some times," I replied. "I know you live with your parents, but I've only met them the once, and they seemed OK with me."

"They were," Eve continued, avoiding my eye. "But there's another reason why I've never invited you in."

"Which is?"

"Samantha," she answered in little more than a whisper. "She's nearly three years old."

"Your sister?" I sort of assumed. "I didn't know you had such a young sister."

"Not my sister, Dave," she shocked me with. "My daughter. I'm sorry, It's stupid of me but I've just never had the nerve to tell you."

--------------------

Well that was indeed a shock, and I stared, speechless at her for some moments.

"Why didn't you tell me before," I eventually stammered.

"I know. I should have done Dave," Eve replied, sniffing, her tears still wet on her cheeks. "I just didn't find the right moment. I was frightened that it might create a problem for you."

"Well it certainly is a problem for me Eve," I responded, with what I thought was a serious tone.

"I knew it," she sobbed back, her tears welling up again. "I'm so sorry."

"The first problem as I see it Eve, is that you've got a daughter that you've deliberately kept hidden from me, haven't you," I summed up the situation.

"Yes, sorry," she mumbled, unable to face me.

"But the real problem," I continued, fighting to keep my face stern. "Is how can I be a daddy to a girl I've never met yet."

"Well I suppose ...." She started, then hesitated, looking up at me in surprise. "What do you mean Dave? You don't mean ..."

"What I mean honey," I interrupted her with a huge grin on my face. "Is that if I'm going to be Samantha's Daddy, then isn't it about time that you introduced us?"

Well, I never actually got a response to my proposal, as Eve leapt up, flung her arms round my neck and smothered me in kisses. I'm not sure she even agreed to marry me in actual words, but I thought I was safe to take her actions as a 'yes'.

---------------

The very next day saw the pair of us stood nervously at her parent's front door, ringing the bell even though she lived there, the two of us assuring the other repeatedly that everything would be OK. Her dad answered the door and shook my hand with a smile that was a lot warmer than the only other time I'd met him, and 'Mum', as she became from that moment on, simply welcomed me with a hug, too choked up to speak at the beginning.

I then sat there, my heart thumping while I waited for 'Mum' to bring my potential future daughter down from her room to meet me. 

I really didn't know what to expect, but realised that this first meeting could be so vital. 

What I didn't expect, was the prettiest little coffee coloured child that God in his wisdom, could ever have created.

She was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. A veritable work of art no less.

Her colouring was no more than the equivalent of what a couple of weeks in the sunshine might have produced, but her huge dark eyes, wide smiling mouth and mass of black curly hair gave the game away.

She stood there frowning at me, clutching tightly at her Granny's hand, unsure who this new strange man was.

"Hi Samantha," I called to her. "Would you like this Mars bar, I've bought you? Your Mummy says they're your favourite."

Little Samantha looked up at her Granny, and she in turn nodded that it was OK for her to have it. The little sweetie took several nervous steps towards me and reached out and took the chocolate from me, staring at it uncertainly for some moments.

"Would you like half," she asked in her little girly voice, trying to smile at me.

"Only if you come and sit on my lap and we eat it together," I answered almost without thought.

"Granny and Grandpa and Mummy call me Sam," the little bundle informed me as she climbed confidently up onto my lap. "What's your name?"

"My name's Dave, Sam," I told her. "But maybe you could call me Daddy if you wanted."

"Daddy," she repeated with a thoughtful little frown. "Like a real daddy, like my friends have?"

"If that's Ok with you Sam," I replied, feeling the tears welling up inside me.

"Ok," she smiled happily at me. "I think I'd really like that Daddy."

As Sam wriggled her tiny body to get more comfortable, I looked up at the other three, trying to hide my tears.

I needn't have bothered.

Eve and her mum were stood there with tears streaming down their cheeks and her Dad sniffed loudly and suddenly had to find something else to do in the other room.

The rest of the evening passed equally well, and by the time little Sam was packed off to bed, she left me with a chocolaty smudge all over my cheek. I settled for that, as I never did get my half of her chocolate bar. I suppose good manners in a three year old, can only be expected to go so far after all.

--------------------

I didn't push Eve to explain how little Sam come about, knowing that when she was ready, then she'd tell me.

"You and Sam really seemed to hit it off," she remarked casually the following evening, though her eyes gave the lie to the casual bit.

"Certainly did," I replied, equally casually, equally unable to keep my concerns hidden.

"You haven't asked me about her," Eve continued. "About how come she's coloured and who her father is?"

"I know you'll tell me when you're ready," I answered. "I assume her father's no longer on the scene."

"Right there! He's still back in Africa."

"I sort of guessed that," I told her. "Judging from Sam's age and how long you've been back in the UK."

At that point Eve launched into her tale of how Sam came about and a lot of other things as well.

She'd gone out to Kenya a virgin, and stayed one for over a year till she 'linked up', as she called it, with a young and up and coming preacher named Joshua, who was helping at her school. One thing led to another and they ended up having sex, with the pregnancy being the result.

Joshua kept promising to 'make things all right' whatever that meant, but when her condition became obvious, then the local Bishop took a hand, decided that the charismatic young preacher was too valuable to risk losing, and promptly packed poor Eve, lump and all, back home to England.

"But this Joshua guy," I protested. "Didn't he argue? Didn't he stand up for you?"

"I think he tried to," Eve explained, obviously unprepared to condemn her ex lover out of hand. "But you don't know what it was like. Out there in East Africa the head people in the church were very powerful and used to getting their way. I guess he just did what he was told, just the same as I did."

"But he abandoned you Eve," I pressed her, feeling aggrieved. "He didn't fight for you. He left you with the problem."

"I've never seen my Sam as a problem Dave," she protested, a frown forming on her face.

"Well ... Well ...."

But that was as far as I got, as Eve smiled, close to giggling. A moment later and we were both laughing and cuddling one another for all we were worth.

"Well if Sam's a problem, then she's my problem as well now," I eventually managed to get out.

"That's the best thing you could have said honey," was the reply, and all seemed well in the world again.

We never discussed that situation too deeply after that, only that the church or maybe Joshua sent a monthly small sum of money towards Sam's upkeep, though in reality it was hardly enough to keep her in mars bars. Joshua had kept in touch for almost a year by post, till he visited England on a fund raising crusade of some sort when they'd met up again. 

"Till his visit I'd sort of kept a candle burning for him," Eve admitted. "But when he went back after a couple of weeks, then I knew that it would never work out for us, as he was destined for great things back there, and a white wife with an illegitimately born child simply wasn't what he needed."




Out of Africa



"Or wanted, by the sounds of things," I threw in.

"That's not fair," Eve stood up for him. "You don't know him. And anyway, I started to get myself out into the world again, and hey presto, I met you."

"Then I forgive him," I grinned at her.

"You should thank him perhaps," she joked with me.

Well, I never did thank him, but the two of us got married, with Sam as the cutest little bridesmaid you could imagine, just two Mars bars keeping her in check all day long, which wasn't bad for such a bundle of energy.

No, I never did thank him, and as it all turned out, then I'm damn glad I didn't!

---------------

Family life suited all three of us, Sam coming to live with us, though Eve's Mum continued to care for her during the day whilst Eve was at work, so it worked out well for everyone. Less than a year into our marriage, and Eve made her announcement that promised to change our lives. It did, but not quite in the way that I expected.

She was pregnant!

Wonderful!

It was just what we wanted, and Sam was as over the moon about it as much as we both were. 

"I want a little brother," she informed us.

"It might be a little girl," Eve warned her.

"I s'pose that will be OK," she relented happily. "As long as she doesn't pinch my Mars bars!"

We were going to have to do something about that sometime.

------------------

A few happy months later, Eve asked me to sit down and talk to her after we'd put young Sam to bed.

"I've been thinking," she started off with.

"That's novel," I grinned at her, ducking as the expected cushion flew across the room towards me.

"Seriously Dave," she went on. "With another little one on the way, maybe we ought to be thinking about you and Sam."

"What about us," I replied, cautiously. "We get on really well. There's no problem there."

"I was more thinking about the legal situation," she explained, but I guess I looked a bit blank.

"Adoption Dave," She said at last. "Don't you think it would be a good idea if you officially adopted Sam."

Oh didn't I just!

I guess the way I picked Eve up and smothered her in kisses, served as an answer.

"Let's get it done straight away," I suggested. "No point in hanging around."

But of course there was a problem, one that proved to be a bigger problem than I would ever have imagined.

"We have to get Joshua's permission though," she damped down my enthusiasm with.

"Why?" I demanded. "What's it got to do with him? He hasn't seen her for years."

"He's still officially her father Dave," Eve hit me with. "I now wish I hadn't but when Sam was born, I still had hopes that we may end up together, so I put him down on the birth certificate as her father."

"So what? There's been no contact for years."

"He still pays maintenance Dave," she reminded me, as I honestly had forgotten about that. "It may only be a few pounds a month, but it still goes in our bank account regularly."

Damn!

"We'll have to write to him then," I carried on after thinking it through for a few moments. "He'll probably be glad to be rid of the responsibility."

"Maybe," Eve frowned. "But we don't actually have to write to him."

"Why not?"

"Joshua got in touch with me earlier today Dave," my wife then informed me. "He's back in England again on another of his Crusades. They're raising money for the church back over in Africa, and this time he's heading it."

Now that came like a bolt out of the blue, didn't it? I felt my insides churning at what this new situation might mean to us, and wondered whether Eve had known he was coming, and if so why she hadn't told me. 

"I suppose he wants to see Sam, does he?" I asked nervously.

"Yes," Eve answered, clearing her throat, and looking over at me nervously. "He wanted to see me as well."

"What?" I spat out.

"Now don't get upset Dave," Eve calmed me down. "He didn't know about you, or that I'd got married. I should have let him know maybe, so it wasn't his fault."

"I suppose not," I conceded in good grace. "We don't want to upset him or anything, so perhaps we should take young Sam to see him and discuss our plans."

"That's sort of what I suggested."

"Fine then Eve. Set it up."

"Not quite that straightforward honey," she whispered.

"Why? What's the problem?"

"It's complicated Dave," Eve carried on quietly. "It's just that you don't know him. You don't understand quite how self-righteous he can be, almost pompous. He's been bought up in a society where equality is a concept rather than a right, and now that he's moved up in the Church hierarchy, he's got an awful lot of money and power, and seems to think he can have anything he wants."

"And you learnt all this from a phone call?" I queried.

"No honey, not exactly."

"Then how then," I demanded, drawing conclusions. "You've damn well seen him haven't you?"

"Yes," Eve admitted meekly.

"Behind my back!"

"It wasn't like that Dave," she protested. "He rang me out of the blue this morning and asked me to meet him for lunch. It caught me by surprise, and didn't see any reason why not."

"You could have rang me to let me know," I protested, feeling challenged, and strangely uncomfortable.

"I did. Or I tried to, but your office said you were stuck in some important meeting and it didn't seem important enough to disturb you."

"Well that's true enough Eve," I had to admit. "I guess I'm over reacting."

My wife simply shrugged her shoulders and smiled at me. Apparently I was forgiven. But it didn't end there.

"So what did he say about me adopting Sam?" I asked hopefully.

"He wasn't keen Dave to be honest," she replied. "He's very proud. Far too proud really, and he feels that you will be taking something away from him. He's Kikuyu so it's a sort of tribal thing, and that's still very strong back in East Africa."

"But he didn't actually refuse then?" I probed.

"No," she replied, her voice dropping back to a whisper. 

I stood there watching her silently, waiting for her to expand. There was a 'but' in there somewhere, a catch, and I didn't like the sound of it.

"It's not that he won't agree Dave," she carried on at last, still in little more than a whisper. "It's just that if you're taking something away from him, then he feels that you ought to give something back."

"Something back!" I exploded. "What the hell have I got that he would want. From what you've just said he's rich."

"He doesn't want money Dave."

"Then what does he want?" I hurled back at her. "The house? My car? I tell you what; he can have my old tennis racquet, damn him. Would that make him happy?"

"No honey," Eve answered, looking up at me with tears in her eyes. "He wants me."

----------------

----------------

I don't remember a lot about the murder trial, at least not a lot of the detail.

There were expert witnesses and character witnesses, people from the church and people from the hospital. It didn't last long. It doesn't when the plaintiff pleads guilty. No need for a jury to decide and no need for long drawn out arguments. No need for a lot of things and thankfully only limited interest from the press.

It was more a matter of the good and worthy Judge deciding on an appropriate sentence, taking, of course, all the mitigating circumstances into consideration. 

A lesser plea than first degree murder had been offered and accepted, and a two year sentence awarded. Not much for taking a man's life.

The most difficult bit was taking leave of Eve at the end of the trial as the warders split us up, even as we were saying our goodbyes. The split with young Sam was even worse, and heartbreaking for us all as she cried her eyes out.

I vowed there and then, that when this nightmare was over, Eve and I would start all over again, everything that had happened being water under the bridge.

But as the pair of us stood there outside that prison eighteen months later, could I do it? Could she?

------------------

------------------

When my wife made her announcement about her ex lover's demands, I couldn't take it in at first. I imagined that she meant that he wanted her to run off back to Kenya with her, but that wasn't it at all. He was due to be in the UK for about another ten days, and he wanted female company. He didn't just want any female company; he wanted Eve. He wanted her to stay with him every day and every night till he left.

He wanted her to be his woman, his girl, his slut, his fuck-buddy, and he expected us to agree. He wasn't fussed whether Sam went to see him or not, and had offered to sign the adoption papers and never see her again.

So much for his fatherly interest. 

I was stunned speechless, the pressure in my chest rising to breaking point as my anger reached boiling point.

"I hope you told him to get lost," I growled when I recovered the power of speech.

"I told him I'd talk to you Dave," Eve answered, cowering before me. "He's a difficult man to just say no to. There's something about him. Some kind of power. When I'm here with you then I hate him, but when I'm with him then I just sort of lose it. I lose the ability to think straight."

"Then give me his phone number and I'll ring him," I yelled at her. "I'll tell him where he can stick his damn permission."

"Hang on Dave," Eve cautioned me. "He warned me what he would do if we didn't agree."

"What he could do," I scoffed. "This is England, not bloody Kenya. What can he do except make the adoption more difficult."

"He told me he'd start to demand visitation rights for Sam," Eve went on, the tears pouring down her cheeks by then. "He's her father and been paying maintenance all these years Dave. I'm terrified the courts would grant his wishes."

"Maybe they wouldn't though," I tried to reason.

"Worse than that Dave, she went on, fighting to hold the tears back. "He said he'd insist on taking her back to Kenya to visit his family."

"I'm not sure the courts would agree to that Eve," I tried to placate her, having no real idea of the reality of the situation.

"But if they did Dave," she wailed. "He could take her and never bring her back, and then what would we do? You hear of terrible things like this happening. I might never see my daughter again Dave."

I took her in my arms and cuddled her up tightly, trying to make it all better, but having no real idea how to. 

I should just kill the bastard, I muttered silently to myself. I didn't mean it of course, and simply wouldn't have it in me to go through with it.

That, at least, is what I thought at the time!

-------------------

-------------------

I well remember that first visit, just one week after the court case and the sentencing. Sitting there staring at Eve, staring at my wife as she sat there the other side of that grim table that separated us. Not knowing what to say, though there was so much to say. Way too much I suppose and no easy way to express it. Not at least when there were prison warders stood there listening to every word spoken.

We'd agreed that Sam would be left at home and not exposed to the horrors of prison at her tender age. Maybe later when we could explain the truth, or some version of it, and she'd be old enough to perhaps understand it.

Meanwhile, it was some bodged up excuse that one of us had to go away for a while. She wasn't happy but on a day to day basis, managed to live with it, and Eve's parents again proved to be a blessing. Not sure whether we did the right thing or not, but how do you deal with a situation so way beyond my capability to comprehend, never mind a three year old?

--------------------

--------------------

Given a choice between the risk of losing her daughter or her husband, I accept must have been an impossible decision. We tried to discuss it, but whenever we tried Eve ended up bursting into tears. Discussion became impossible and of course time was of the essence, with the supercilious bastard putting pressure on her.

Two days after the catastrophic news, I met with a solicitor. I didn't know him well, but he'd handled my divorce a few years previously and he'd seemed to know his business. He was wary of being too specific when he realised that Sam and I had no legal connection, but changed his attitude when I explained what Joshua was demanding.

"That sounds like blackmail to me Mr Lyon," he growled, glaring at me over the top of his glasses. "I don't know about back in Africa, but that's a serious offence here."

"So we've got him then," I cried out in relief. "We can get him arrested."

"Not that straightforward I'm afraid," He bought me back to earth with. "I'll have to consult with one of my colleagues, and perhaps speak to a judge I know. You say your wife is pregnant, so that could maybe help."

"Great! Fine! Can we ring them now," I encouraged him, but was told in no uncertain terms that I'd have to be patient; that I should go home to my wife and tell her to hang on and be brave, and to call him the next day for more news.

It was with a much lighter heart that I drove home that afternoon, eager to tell Eve what I had found out. 

"Eve, Eve," I called out, entering my house, surprised to find Eve's mother there.

"Hi Mum," I greeted her happily. "What are you doing here? It's not one of your days."

"No problem Dave. Eve had to go out somewhere urgently, and asked me to pop over and look after Sam."

"Did she say where she was going?" I asked apprehensively.

"Something about an old friend from Kenya," Mum told me in all innocence. "She didn't say who."

"Joshua," I grunted, my worst fears probably confirmed.

"Joshua!" Mum cried out in surprise. "He's not back here again, is he?"

"Yes that Joshua," I confirmed. "He's over here on some money raising trip."

"This is bad Dave," she whispered unhappily. "Has she told you much about him?"

"Not much. Only that he's Sam's father of course, and a preacher or something."

"We only met him the once and we didn't take to him at all," she went on. "He came over here a couple of years ago and I've never met anyone so arrogant. We couldn't see how she could have put up with him Dave, but he seemed to have some sort of hold over her. We warned her, but she wouldn't listen. He used her. He wasn't interested in little Sam and hardly came to see her."

"So what sort of hold did he have over Eve?"

"I hardly like to say." 

""I need to know Mum,' I insisted. "I really need to know."

"We thought it was sexual in some way," Mum mumbled, so quietly, that I only just caught it. "He used her Dave. We tried to get her to see sense, but she was besotted with him. He got her pregnant and abandoned her, then when he turned up out of the blue she went running to him."

"And it's happening again," I growled.

" Oh I hope not Dave," Mum sobbed. "Not now she's got you. She loves you Dave. I know it for a fact."

----------------------

It took some time but I eventually persuaded Mum to go back home, and I sat there miserable as sin, waiting for my wife to come home, not knowing what to expect. It was early evening when I heard her car pull up outside, and a good twenty minutes before I heard the door behind me open. Turning around, I took one look at her and knew that I was too late. She looked perfectly normal with not a hair out of place, dressed quite simply in jeans and a tee shirt. She was quite beautiful, but the look in her eyes left me in no doubt.

"Well?" I croaked, trying to keep my emotions in check.

"I'm sorry Dave," Eve replied quietly. "I just couldn't risk losing Sam, could I?"

"So you let him fuck you then" I stated, keeping my temper in check.

"I had to," she whispered.

"Like you did the last time he came over," I accused her. 

"How the hell do you......" she shot back a look of surprise on her face. Shutting up suddenly as it dawned on her that I must have spoken to her mother.

"So why didn't you tell me that little fact Eve?"

"It's not the same Dave," she defended herself. "I didn't even know you then."

"And you don't think it's relevant to our present situation?"

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" She said as she started to cry. "What's done is done."

"So that's it is it," I growled at her. "You've done it. It's finished."

"No Dave," she whimpered unhappily. "I've come back for my things. He wants me back at his hotel as soon as possible."

"To sleep with him?"

"Yes," my wife admitted in a whisper.

"To fuck you?"

"Yes," she repeated even more quietly.

"No!"

"I've got to Dave," she pleaded with me, tears streaming down her cheeks. "He's threatened to take Sam. He says he'll take her back to Kenya with him when he leaves."

I argued with her, pleaded even, and told her I'd been to see a solicitor. But she wouldn't have any of it, screaming at me that I didn't understand and that I didn't care. At some stage I seemed to forget that my wife had been with another man, so desperate to prevent her from going back to the bastard.

But all to no avail!

Within the hour, she'd packed her bag, said goodnight to young Sam, and was ready to leave to go back to him. Eve came up to me to take me in her arms to give a farewell kiss, but I turned my cheek and simply stood there stiffly.

"It's going to be like that, is it?" she demanded, breaking away from me.

"Worse!" I spat back at her.

"Fuck you Dave," she spat back. "Why can't you understand?"

"All I understand is that you can't wait to get back to that African devil and into bed with him." I shouted at her.

That silenced her.

The look that she gave me I couldn't fathom, and to this day I'm not sure that I ever want to. Was it a look of frustration, of being misunderstood or simply of confusion? Or was it the realisation that what I'd accused her of was the truth?

Without another word, Eve turned on her heels and walked slowly out of the house, leaving me stood there trying to hold the tears back, as I pondered whether I'd still be there when she came back.

I didn't have long to ponder!

"Daddy," I heard a plaintiff little voice behind me. "Where has mummy gone?"

Oh shit!

Oh shit and damn it.

----------------

I slept that night on the couch with young Sam cuddled up in my arms, surprised that eventually I fell into a deep sleep, maybe dreaming, but only to wake up to my nightmare. 

Why hadn't I stopped her? Physically restrained her? Maybe I'd recognised that it was already too late.

Why didn't I take young Sam over to Eve's Mum and dump her there and disappear off into the blue yonder?

But how could I do that to Sam?

How could I do that to the growing child in Eve's womb?

Damn it! I had to admit it. How could I do that to the woman I still loved beyond reason?

--------------------

The next two days were a blur as I tried, unsuccessfully to keep the truth from Eve's mum and dad, and fought to make Sam understand why her mother wasn't there. Sure, Eve rang both days, several times in fact, but I couldn't bring myself to speak to her, passing the phone over to Sam without a word, despite her pleas for me to talk to her.

Then the third day it all fell apart in the worst way imaginable.

"Mr Lyon?" I heard as I picked the phone up, and the official tone of the voice sending shivers through me.

"Your wife is Mrs Eve Lyon?" that awful voice went on when I confirmed his first question.

"Yes," I croaked, knowing that something terrible must have happened.

"I'm sorry sir," the voice went on. "But I'm afraid your wife has been admitted to hospital."

"What's wrong with her?"

"I'm not at liberty to say sir," my tormentor carried on. "It's not life threatening, but I suggest you make arrangements to visit her."

Details were exchanged, though I was in a daze. I rang Eve's mum to look after Sam, but in the end we, all four of us, bundled ourselves into my car and made our way unhappily to the hospital the other side of town.




Out of Africa



"I'm so sorry honey," my pale looking wife cried out in anguish as I walked into her room. "I was such a fool to imagine that I could trust Joshua."

"It's alright Eve, darling," I consoled her bending down to kiss her tenderly, shocked by the bruises on her face. "Don't worry. I'm here for you."

"He hit me Dave, my wife wept in my arms. "He wanted me to ..... He wanted me to .... There were four of them."

"It's alright honey," I tried to console her.

"He tried to force me Dave, but I wouldn't," she sobbed. "I've been such a fool."

"It's OK now," I told her, her behaviour put aside for the moment. "It's over. It's finished. Everything will be Ok now."

"But how can it be Dave? Nothing can ever be the same again."

"Of course it can Eve," I assured her, not certain that I was speaking the truth, knowing that it was not the moment to make any rash decisions. "We'll go back to as it was before."

"You don't know, do you?" Eve stated, locking eyes with me. "They haven't told you."

"It's pretty obvious Eve," I tried to calm her down. "The black bastard beat you. I can see the bruises"

"He didn't just hit me in the face Dave," she groaned. "He punched me in the stomach. I miscarried Dave. I've lost our baby. Joshua murdered our baby."

--------------------

I don't recall accurately much about the next day.

I blamed Eve for going with him, then I blamed myself for allowing her to go. Damn it, I blamed Joe and Alf and Fred for sort of introducing us, and her parents for allowing her to go to Africa in the first place for that matter.

When I discovered that the police were hesitating to take action due to some dubious claim of diplomatic immunity, then I blew a fuse. I just knew that by the time they'd sorted it out, then he'd be long ago back on a jet to the safety of East Africa.

I parked Sam with the grandparents telling them that I was going to pick up Eve from the hospital as she was due out, but left her there to stew and made my way over to where I knew Joshua was due to give his last performance to his flock. I had no idea what I intended to do, just that I had to do something. I sat through the load of rubbish that he spouted, aware from the looks from his acolytes that he wasn't putting on his best performance.

The applause was limited, and that gave me some satisfaction, but by no means enough.

Ten minutes after he'd finished, I found myself making my way backstage to find him.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for the reverend Joshua," I replied to the big guy who stood in my way.

"Sorry mate," he replied, not budging. "He's not seeing anyone.

"I want to make a donation," came to me automatically. "I was impressed."

"You can make donations out at the front office," he told me with a forced smile on his face, still not budging.

"I was thinking of a thousand pounds or so," I threw into the mix, having no real idea if I'd pitched the level correctly.

"Cash?"

"No, cheque," I shot back. "And I want to have the pleasure of giving it to the man himself personally, which was apparently a request that he was used to.

The false smile widened and on his bidding I followed him to Joshua's lair, in the opposite direction to what I'd been going, and I found myself standing there facing the infamous Joshua, who of course had no idea who I was.

"God bless you for your generosity sir," he greeted me, dismissing the assistant with a wave of his hand. "I understand you wish to make a substantial donation to the works of the Lord."

"Yes," I replied, wondering what the hell I was doing there and reaching for my chequebook.

"A thousand pounds to support our good works, I believe you mentioned," the big guy gloated at me. Big, but going to fat by anyone's standards.

"That's right," I smiled back, a muddled plan forming in my mind.

"Leave the payee blank if you don't mind," he suggested, further confirming what a cheating, lying, bastard he was. "This is the last day, and the normal account has been closed."

"No problem," I replied, filling in the cheque and handing it over to him with a grin.

"Thank you Mr....," he smirked, looking down at the cheque to see my name, his smile changing to a frown as he read what I'd written.

"Mr Mouse?"

I smiled back at him.

"Mr Mickey Mouse?"

I smiled again.

"What sort of game is this?" He demanded, the frown deepening. "This isn't amusing."

"No more amusing than hitting a defenceless woman."

"Who the fuck are you?" the bugger growled, standing up threateningly. "Get the hell out of here."

"Going to hit me like you hit my wife are you?" I challenged.

"Ah, the wimp," he smirked, coming out from behind his desk to confront me. "Can't satisfy your wife and come for a lesson, have you?"

"Come to teach you a lesson," I responded, aware that in reality the guy would flatten me, if he got hold of me, dodging sideways as he reached out to grab me.

"That's it wimp," he taunted me. "Your wife's a great fuck, but you're never keeping my daughter."

"We'll see about that," I taunted him. "No court in the country will give you access after what you've done."

"Won't bring your baby back though, will it," he snarled.

At which point I snapped!

I can't actually remember picking up the brass candlestick from his desk. Hadn't even registered that it was there. 

I can't remember hefting it above my head, only the awful grin on his ugly face as he took a swing at me.

I can't recall swinging the candlestick, or even aiming it, but I can remember the crunch as it struck him. I remember it as well as I recall the shock that resonated through my hand as the implement buried itself into his skull.

------------------

He was dead!

I knew it straight away before I even looked down at him. I always thought serious head injuries resulted in a lot of blood, but there didn't seem to be too much.

But there was enough!

He didn't move, didn't twitch, didn't groan or anything. He just lay there. Lay there dead the way dead people do.

I thought I didn't panic, but on reflection I must have. I wiped the candlestick with my handkerchief, and then like a fool threw that in the bin, though that never actually surfaced to bite me on the bum. Hearing footsteps outside I darted through the second door having no idea where it led to, ignoring the shout from behind me, only knowing that my only chance of escape was to make myself scarce. Ten minutes later found me scuttling along an alleyway and back to my car, when I did well to get home without having an accident.

Safe!

No way!

It was only when I got home that the truth hit me. Not only had I left my handkerchief there, but several people had seen me, worst of all the goon who had led me to Joshua's room. 

When it dawned on me that I'd left my cheque there as well, I knew I was doomed. I might have signed it Mickey Mouse but my real name was printed underneath in bold letters.

No escape!

And I'd thought that things couldn't have got any worse.

I sat there waiting for them to come for me, desperately wanting to go see Sam, and yes Eve, before they took me, but not wanting them to go through the trauma of seeing me arrested.

I waited. I waited for the end of my world as I'd known it.

It took some time. Longer than I thought.

----------------------

"Mr Lyon?" Came the call, reminiscent of one I'd had a few days before, but even more deadly.

"Speaking."

"This is the City police here sir," I was surprised to hear. Can they really arrest you over the phone? They never did that on the television. "Your wife is Mrs Eve Lyon?"

This was weird. Sort of Deja Vue!

"Yes."

"I'm afraid I have to inform you sir, that we have arrested your wife on suspicion of murder."

He said some other things, but don't ask me what. I thanked him for letting me know and sat there bemused. 

What the hell!

Somehow I informed her parents or somebody did. Somehow I got through the rest of the day, but to be honest I wasn't aware of the passage of time.

The next day, and I guess it must have been the next day, found me sat in front of some solicitor guy that her parents must have found, because I certainly hadn't been capable of organising such a thing. He talked to me and asked questions but don't ask me what we talked about. I think I came out of my befuzzled state for the first time the following day 

when for the first time I was allowed to visit Eve. 

"Are you OK honey?" She asked uncertainly.

"Not sure Eve," I answered. "How about you?" 

"Not sure," she giggled nervously. "I guess I've been better."

"What the hell happened?" I implored her.

"Later," she insisted. "Just keep your mouth shut and look after Sam."

And that folks was about as much as I found out about the turnabout that had happened, and it was half a week later that with our solicitor assuring our privacy in a private room, that I found out the truth.

"They let me out of the hospital and when I found that you'd left to pick me up but hadn't arrived, I guessed where you'd be. You'd gone after Joshua and when I got there they told me that some new benefactor was in his office with him. I just knew it had to be you, so I burst into his office shouting for you not to do anything silly."

"That would have been me," I told Eve, remembering the noise I'd heard as I'd fled his office, and the shout that I'd ignored and ran from.

"I didn't know that straight away Dave," she told me. "I saw his body there and froze. Didn't know what to do."

"Not surprising," I agreed. 'But what did you do?"

"I picked up your cheque and realised that it must have been you that had fled as I arrived. I knew I had to make it disappear, so I eat it."

"What!" I exclaimed in surprise.

"I eat it," she repeated, smiling for the first time. "Screwed it up and forced it down. That way nobody would ever find it, and you'd be safe."

"But I killed him Eve," I reminded her. "It was me, not you."

"But they don't know that Dave," Eve went on. "I picked up the candlestick so my fingerprints were on it and then rang the police from that bastard's own phone."

"But why? How? This can't happen," I cried out. "You can't take the blame."

"Ask him," Eve responded, indicating her solicitor sat silently by the side of us. "It's the best thing for both of us. He killed our baby"

"She's right Mr. Lyon," piped up the pretty nondescript guy breaking his silence, and re-checking before he continued that we were speaking under conditions of client confidentiality. "I don't want to know what happened, but If you were found guilty then you'd go down for a long time. As far as Mrs. Lyon is concerned, then a woman who has just been beaten and lost her baby would be treated very differently, and any normal court would take a very lenient view."

"She'll get off?" I demanded, incredulously.

"Probably not," he proclaimed, but an awful lot less than you would."

"Sorry," I told the pair of them. "I can't let this happen."

But I did.

Yes, I did.

We all did, all three of us, even the barrister that represented Eve in court not knowing what had actually taken place on that day.

I'd argued and disagreed with Eve's decision to take the blame, but she'd argued back, insisting that it was all her fault and that she should take the blame, and eventually I'd caved in.

"She was caught red handed Mr Lyon," the solicitor pointed out. "It's her word against yours and the police will just think your trying to save her."

"Like she's trying to save me?" I sighed, defeated.

"Exactly Mr Lyon. That's what people do for their loved ones.

Which is when I caved in.

--------------------- 

I was never happy about letting Eve take the blame, especially not even being able to tell her parents. They were distraught about what happened, but never blamed her for what she did, and strangely that seemed to be the attitude of nearly everyone; the surprisingly little press attention that the case gendered universally being in support of her situation.

Exceptionally they allowed bail, so Eve spent the months before the trial at home with us, only having to report to the police every third day, not that she had any intention of making a run, even as the date of the case got closer.

Personally I resolved to put what Eve had done to the back of my mind, too aware that those few short months may be the last that we'd ever have. She did cry a lot, but it was always over the loss of her baby and not what was awaiting her.

One day, a bad day for me, I went to the police and told them it was me that had killed the bugger. They listen patiently and then told me to go home to my wife and child and stop wasting their time.

What else could I do?

What else should I have done?

The court case came and the expected sentence handed down. Two years for manslaughter, with the knowledge that with time off for good behaviour, she'd be back out in one year.

It seemed a long time.

------------------ 

The great door to the old Victorian building that housed the prison clanged shut! 

Imposing though the building undoubtedly was, I, like many before me, preyed silently that I'd never have to see the damn thing again.

Twelve months!

A year with my life on hold, waiting for this day, waiting to see whether I still really had a family. 

"Hi Dave," she said nervously.

"Hi yourself," I replied equally uncertainly.

"Where's Sam," she asked. "I'm desperate to see her."

"With Mum and Dad," I told her. "She thinks you've been in hospital all this time, and so excited about seeing you."

"Oh God I hope so," Eve replied, smiling for the first time and seeming to lighten the whole street up. "How is she? What did she say?"

"She asked if she was going to have a little brother to look after."

"And what did you answer Dave?" She asked, her voice wavering.

"I told her that it might be a sister, and that she'd have to wait a bit longer."

"And she was happy with that?" Eve queried, a hint of that smile returning.

"Ecstatic; as I will be Eve," I confirmed.

"You really mean that honey," my wife grinned widely.

"Absolutely," I grinned back, taking her in my arms as she rushed to me. "Let's get back. The sooner we get started the better."

--------------------

There were difficult times ahead of us. Of course there were, but together, with the help of her parents and naturally little Sam, our little family became one again. 

Well three of course.

Well four the following year ----- Then five!

Ok, truth be known, five and counting, all our troubles, except the little ones that kept us awake at night, behind us.

+++++++++++++++++++ 

Long time since I posted, so I hope you enjoyed my little tale, because it took me a long, long time to get round to finishing it. 

Please vote and please comment, but most of all I hope this story leaves you with a smile and not wishing that Eve had got further punishment, because she really didn't deserve it. It incredible what a mother will do to protect her child.

You may differ of course! 



Out of Africa



This morning we received the news we have been waiting for. My wife's sister Carol has got her visa and is moving to the UK to live with us. This is great news, of course, I like her and will be happy that she's with us and not on her own.

The negative, however, is that the conversation I recounted in my previous post is now going to become a reality. My wife is definitely going to be going out on the pull with her sister, leaving me at home wondering what they are up to. My wife realized that this would be at the front of my mind.

"So, my love," she started "I'm really glad that we had our little conversation about me going out with my sister, and especially glad that you admitted, during our love making, that you are turned on by the idea of me having sex with another man, and, in fact, want me to do it."

"But that was a fantasy, during sex, it doesn't mean I actually want you to do it!"

"Well, you've said it now. I think you actually do want to be a cuckold, but are just a bit nervous about it."

"I suppose so."

As far as my wife was concerned, that was the end of the conversation, but it didn't end in my head. I still couldn't believe I had admitted to being turned on by the idea of my wife having sex with another man, but I was excited at the same time, and thinking with my little brain.

"Actually, I'm really looking forward to going out on the pull with Carol again," she continued, "we always managed to hook up with good looking younger guys really quickly. It's good that I can tell you everything that happens, I don't want to keep secrets from you."

"Right."

"Did I tell you that you are the only lover I've had who is older than me?"

"Yes my love."

"It'll be fun having a young fit guy trying to seduce me again...you understand that, don't you?"

"Yes, of course my love."

"And now that we have your own little fantasy out in the open, I won't need to resist very hard. If at all, in fact."

"I see."

"I'm glad you see darling, shall we go to bed now?"

So off we went to bed, and I used my tongue between my wife's legs, for about half an hour, making her cum three times. I kept thinking that she was fantasizing about all the young guys she could fuck. After she had been completely satisfied she lay next to me gently stroking my cock. I was so horny from all this talk of her sleeping with other guys that I was rock hard in seconds, and desperate to cum. My wife teased me for about ten minutes, then stroked around the head of my cock and started to whisper in my ear.

"So, you're really excited about the prospect of me going out clubbing with Carol?"

"Yes, I must confess I am."

"I expect you've been wanking yourself off thinking about what might happen?"

"Yes, I have."

"Do you imagine me dancing with some tall, good looking young guy?"

"Yes."

"Do you visualise him putting his arm around me as we queue for drinks?"

"Uh huh."

"Can you picture him taking me in his arms and kissing me gently on the lips?"

"Yeah!" I sighed.

"Then later, after quite a lot of champagne, we're back at our table and he's kissing me passionately, and I'm kissing him back. His hand is working it's way up between my legs. Should I push him away or open my legs to give him access to my pussy. What do you think I should do?"

"Open your legs!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

My wife was still stoking my cock gently, up and down the entire shaft, rolling over the head. It was tantalizing and getting me closer and closer.

"So, he's playing with my pussy, his fingers are inside my panties, rubbing my clit. I'm soaking wet and horny as hell, and he pops the question, 'let's go to my room', what do you want me to do my love?"

"Oh God, don't make me say it!"

"You want to cum don't you?"

"Yes!"

"So say it."

"Go to his room! Let him fuck you!"

"You're sure?"

"Yes!!"

"Ok, I will."

And then I'm over the edge, my cum is squirting up into the air like the fountain in Trafalgar square. My wife keeps the gentle pumping going, and I keep squirting. Eventually I slow down and stop. My wife cuddles up to me and scoops up my cum in her fingers and feeds it to me. Scoop after scoop. Finally there is no more, and she holds my penis gently and lovingly as it gradually wilts.

"Now my love, we'll have no more protesting. You want me to fuck other men, and I really want to. It's going to happen. Get used to it, and I'll make it fun for you as well. Do you agree?"

"Yes my love."

"Now go to sleep my darling. We're going to have such fun. I love you."

"I love you too."

"I know."

The next day my wife phoned her sister to get an update on how her packing to move to us was going. After talking about what she should bring, and what she should sell, my wife told Carol how much she was looking forward to going out with Carol, just like when they were in their twenties.

"I've already told him that I will be going out with you, to pubs and dancing, looking for guys," she revealed.

I decided that I wanted to hear this conversation, so I sat down next to my wife.

"And was he ok about it?"

"Fairly ok, but I made it clear that he had no choice in the matter, didn't I darling?"

"Yes, my love."

"Anyway, he eventually admitted that the idea turns him on, and that he's been wanking imagining what might happen."

"Wow! That's brilliant," Carol said, "I can't wait to ask him all about his fantasies."

I couldn't believe my wife had told her that, it was so humiliating.

"There's more," my wife continued.

"Do tell."

"I told him that there was a real possibility that I will end up being fucked by a new guy."

"Crikey, did he get really mad?"

"No, but then I was stroking his cock at the time. I teased and teased him, then led the conversation in the direction I wanted, telling him how our evening might go, then when he was right on the edge of orgasm, I asked him whether he fantasized about me fucking another guy, and finally got him to admit that he fantasizes about me with another guy when he masturbates. "

"I think he'll be wanking himself silly when we're out dancing then"

I could only just hear Carol speaking.

"Why do you allow him to wank anyway?"

"Well, he needs more sex than I do."

"He doesn't need it, he just wants it. If I were you I'd lock him up and put a stop to it pronto."

"What do you mean, lock him up?"

"A chastity cage, they're brilliant. I'll sort it for you when I get there. I don't want him wanking when I'm living there, and also it'll stop him griping about you sleeping with other men."

"Oh, ok, brilliant," my wife replied.

It sounded as though my fate was sealed.

"I hope you can see where your kinky fantasies are getting you?" she accused

"Now, go and make me a nice dinner. I'm feeling lazy."

So I went to the kitchen but couldn't stop thinking about my sister putting a cage on my horny cock. It was the most terrifying prospect, but also, in an odd way, incredibly exciting.

So, my wife's sister flew for 20hrs from South Africa, via Dubai, to London. Once we got her happily ensconced in our large Victorian house, she and my wife started to gossip about the past. Very soon they were onto the subject of old boyfriends, and it would seem that my beautiful wife had enjoyed the attentions of a lot of men. Carol was asking how big their cock's were, who was good in bed, who still kept in touch.

"What??? You surely don't keep in touch with any of them?" I asked.

"Just a few," she replied.

"Why?"

"In case I want to meet up some time, like, if you we're away or something."

"But they're in South Africa, aren't they?"

"Not all of them."

"So where are they?"

"The UK of course."

"Some of the ones you are in contact with are in the UK?"

"All of the ones I'm in contact with are in the UK, most of them are in London. What would be the point in me being in contact with men on another continent?"

"What's the point anyway, you aren't planning to meet them are you?"

"Well, I was thinking about it. When you are away on business, I thought I could have some fun, and he could bring a friend for Carol. One guy in particular was a really good fuck."

"But you're my wife! Surely you aren't planning to have sex with this guy?"

"I have been since you told me you were turned on by the idea of me having sex with another man. I've already told him we can get together soon."

"But!"

"I told you, you should lock his cock up," Carol interjected.

"Well we may have to if he doesn't improve his attitude."

"He'll be very positive about you fucking other guys when he hasn't cum for two or three weeks, and I'm holding the key," Carol added, helpfully.

"So, there it is," my wife concluded," Improve your attitude or Carol will lock your cock up. I don't think you'll be squirting very often under her rule. You started all this and now you have to live with the consequences. Do you agree?"

"Yes my love."

"Good, I'll let Mike know we're on for some great sex, and to find someone for Carol"

"Wow! This is just like the old days," Carole squealed.

"You're still my husband," my wife added, "But soon you'll be a cuckold husband, and I think from that moment on I'll call you Cucky. That'll be appropriate don't you think?"

"I suppose so my love."

"And you'll have a positive attitude from now on, with no more silly tantrums, or Carol will lock you up. Do you understand?"

"Yes my love, I'm sorry my love."

And with that my fate was sealed.