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Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 01

By: LeMondial



1.

Elizabeth Perry knew from the moment they emerged from the train station after the short trip from Fiumicino Airport, that things were going to be different in her life. She and her husband Michael had spent their honeymoon in the Eternal City 18 years ago, and it had been a magically romantic time. So much had happened since then, and much of it had conspired dampened their romantic life, turning it into dull routine. They had raised their only daughter who was back in the States with Elizabeth's sister and that plus the burdens of finances and elder care had consumed much of their life. There simply wasn't much time left over for the kind of wild uninhibited sex they shared during their late teen and college years.

But now here they were, footloose for a nine month assignment courtesy of her husband Michael's government agency. There were no kids around and no household chores and they were free to go a little wild -- not too wild Elizabeth reminded herself. After all, she was now 41 and a mature woman. She had been working out in the gym for a sold 4 months before the trip and was now back to her college trim. Looking at herself nude in the full length mirror a day ago, she had to admit she looked pretty damned good. She was a petite 5 feet, 4 inches with a waist and perky size 34 breasts, tipped by dusky upturned nipples. When she turned to look over her shoulder at her butt, she smacked her ass and winked saucily at her reflected image.

She had invested a few hundred dollars in new dresses and skirts from Nordstrom and explicit lingerie from Victoria Secrets and she intended to put them to give them a good use. Packing them carefully the night before the trip she thought to herself, "If this doesn't get me laid every night, then something is wrong with Michael." She knew that having wild sex every night with her husband was not a likely prospect as Rome was only a convenient base of operations. He would be traveling every other week to locations all over Africa and the Middle East and she would just have to make the best use of the time he was with her in the little flat they had rented for their time in Rome.

After a typically wild taxi ride from the station to the Piazza Navona, they lugged their bags down a narrow side street and found the front door to the flat. They arrived breathless and stood there perspiring under the Roman sun as Michael fumbled for the keys. Elizabeth smiled at her husband admiringly as he produced the large key, its polished brass gleaming in the bright light. After jiggling the lock for several seconds, they were inside and began the laborious process of dragging their several suitcases up the long flight of stairs to their home for the next several months.

They were both tired and sweaty and Elizabeth began moving from room to room opening the windows and throwing back the shutters to catch the mid-afternoon breezes. When she reached the bedroom, she stopped for a moment to look down onto the street admiring the view. From her high vantage point, she could see a street vendor selling roasted chestnuts, a couple of bistros where the patrons were all sitting outside in the ambient warmth, protected from the spring sunshine by wide cloth awnings. She noticed clutch of young men, all black standing on the corner leading to their flat and thought they looked rather dangerous but at the same time kind of attractive in a rough and muscular sort of way. She noticed that two of the men had their arms loosely draped around a pair of olive skinned white girls with coal black hair, one of whom was obviously several weeks pregnant. She shook her head and her nose wrinkled in disgust.

She caught sight of another black male turning onto the street, out for an afternoon jog. She admired the way the sweat coated his coal black skin, making it shine in the sunlight. He wore a silky sleeveless shirt and cut-away running shorts. As her eyes traveled up from his powerfully flexing legs, she could not fail to notice his manhood swaying from side to side under the scant cover afforded him by the glossy shorts. She could almost imagine she could see the head of it where the red piping stood out against the grey background of the shorts. His skin was incredibly dark she noticed, far blacker than the few black men she had ever bother to notice back home in Indiana. She decided he must be from Africa itself, rather than "African with a hyphen" as in "African-American", an expression she had always disliked.

Her eyes traveled up the slit sides of the shorts and she admired his cut waist and broad chest. Strangely, her mouth began to water involuntarily as she continued to stare at him passing their flat. When she noticed this she frowned, as if disapproving of her body's autonomous reaction. She retreated a tiny bit from the window as he jogged just then in front of the flat. She didn't want to be caught in the act of ogling a strange man. As he continued up the street she became aware of Michael' footsteps on the creaky floor and that snapped her out of her daydream. She shook the thought of the jogger out of her head. What was she doing, she asked herself mentally, staring at a man, and a black man at that. She had never had the slightest interest in black men, and anyway, didn't she have a perfectly fine and caring husband? That, she decided, was more than enough for any woman.

All the time she had been staring down with rapt attention at the street scene, Michael had been standing in the threshold of the room admiring his wife of 18 years and the way she filled out the sheer green sleeveless dress. He could see the outline of her legs silhouetted by the streaming sunlight through the summer weight material and his penis began to spring to attention. He liked the sheen of sweat on her skin and the way it made her face and neck glow, and gave her lightly muscled arms definition. He continued to admire her as she seemed to be watching someone or something as it passed the flat, her head swiveling slowly from left to right.

Michael approached her from behind. He began to kiss her neck with warm liquid kisses. He loved the way her skin felt under his thin lips -- so warm and vibrant, so soft and sensual. He could feel her pulse under his lips and noticed her breathing quicken. He brushed the hair back from her face and moved tight to her body so that she could feel his rapidly swelling penis against her buttocks. He whispered into her exposed ear, saying "Someone is feeling mighty nice today."

She moaned a little and smiled at his comment. As they continued to stand at the open window, a slight breeze banged the shutters open against the stucco of the exterior and raised goose bumps on her skin. Michael started nibbling on her ear, and experimentally licked it with his tongue. He ran his hands up her arms then reached inside the openings at the side of her dress. He started massaging her pert breasts through the arm holes of the dress. It felt incredibly good to Elizabeth and she swayed slightly as he massaged her.

Her face and neck grew red with her excitement and her nipples began to stand out, hard and proud against the satiny material of her bra. He reached under the hem of her dress with his right hand and lifted it up until he could cup her mound. She felt surprising wet at the apex of her thighs. He decided that he must be doing a far better job than usual at turning her on. He pushed aside the crotch of her her panties, and felt the soft downy hair covering her mons. His small hand raked the panties down from her soft thighs and with a flourish he pulled them off as she deftly stepped out of them one leg at a time.

He held the sheer pink thong style panties in the air in front her triumphantly then pulled them to his face and breathed deeply of his wife's womanly nectar. Tossing them aside, unzipped her dress from behind and the vaguely metallic sound of her dress parting added excitement to his feeling of conquest. Kissing her openly at the nape of her neck, he tasted the sweat from her skin and licked her with his open tongue. He slid her bra strap down with one hand while massaging her rapidly swelling clit with the other. His fingers found one nipple and he began tugging it and twirling it between his fingers.

Eyes close dreamily, she leaned back against him and sighed excitedly. With both hands, she reached behind her and cupped, then squeezed his member. Though he was small enough to cover with one hand, she worked both hands up and down through the material of his linen trousers. With his other hand, Michael unpinned her bra and she shrugged it down.

Now her breasts were exposed to the cool breeze and the warming rays of the sun and tiny thrills ran through her body. She had always known that her nipples and breasts were "hot-wired" to her pussy and now her vaginal lips were rapidly becoming swollen with excitement. Michael reached up with his fine, small hands covered much of her exposed breasts. She swayed with excitement and she turned her head to the side to openly suck her husband's offered tongue with her lush and now enlarged lips.

Elizabeth deftly loosened his belt and buttons and busily pulled his trousers down. As they plopped silently to the floor, he felt her hands sliding over his slender member, now fully aroused. He moaned in excitement and squeezed her breasts to show his appreciation.

Unknown and unnoticed by both of them, the clutch of young black men in the street were now staring fixedly up at them and gesturing excitedly and commenting in rapid fire Italian. One of them was cupping the breasts of the young pregnant woman beside him, mimicking the scene above. The noise of their banter grew louder by degrees and with a sudden start, Elizabeth opened her eyes in horror, realizing that they were standing in front of the open window and being observed. With a sudden violent motion, she screamed and yanked Michael's hands from her body and exploded into a stream of curses.

Michael didn't understand at first. His rapidly deflating penis reflected his confusion until he saw one the girls below laughing and holding her thumb and forefinger together in a tiny pinching motion. His already ruddy face reddened even further as he hid his shrunken member behind his hands and backed away from the window, tripping over his pants and falling to the floor.

He laughed at himself and the situation and looked up plaintively at Elizabeth. He lifted himself awkwardly to a standing position, then hurried over to shutter the window, again drawing hoots over derision from the group of black men and their Italian women.

Michael turned to Elizabeth and shrugged. She was standing in the middle of the room with her dress down to her waist and her hands covering her breasts. She looked angrily in his direction as though the entire incident had been his fault. He could see the fire in her eyes as they flooded with tears and she mouthed through her clenched jaw, "Damn it Michael, I have never been so humiliated in my entire life. Those black men saw everything. Everything!"

Michael pulled his briefs and trousers back up. Taking her hand tenderly, he tried to recapture the lost moment. He smiled at her and said, "Honey, it was just a silly incident. Come to bed with me so we can mess around. Let's not let the opportunity go to waste. I have to leave for Lagos, Nigeria first thing in the morning. Come on, Sweetie."

He kissed her hand tenderly, but she jerked it away, saying, "Look, the moment is gone. Please don't try to force it. Let's just get our stuff unpacked and put away so I can get you ready for tomorrow."

Then relenting a bit, she smiled at him, and stroked his face softly. She whispered, "Honey, I am not angry with you. It's just that we are in a foreign country, and that whole thing was embarrassing. What if those guys hang on that corner every day and I have to walk past them. You know?"

She wasn't in the mood for sex, but she knew he was easily taken care of. She moved in close and threw her arms around him, kissing him full on the the mouth. They lingered in the kiss, their tongues touching and lips tightly locked in a passionate kiss. Elizabeth started to unbutton his shirt then ran her hand over his slender chest and sensitive nipples. She broke the kiss, then began insistently tugging on his trousers.

Michael closes his eyes as she sank to her knees, kissing his small member through the material of his pants. Now on her knees, she looked up at him as she pulled his pants down and yanked on his briefs. His penis sprang free from its confines and pointed straight out. It was now at a full 4 inches and without speaking a word Elizabeth took the shaft in her free hand, and began stroking him lazily.

She hardly ever gave him oral, but today it seemed like the quickest way to take care of his urges with a minimum of effort. Her hand covered his shaft completely and she began to lick his shaft and balls with long strokes of her tongue. She always hated deep throating him because there was a chance he might cum in her mouth, which was strictly off limits for her.

Today though, she felt the need to give him something extra for having reacted with such anger. She switched from licking to sucking and in one motion, took his entire shaft in her mouth. She worked the soft head with her tongue and was rewarded with gasps and moans from her husband, who was now teetering from side to side as she quickened her pace. She tasted his pre-cum, which she never much cared for the taste of. That was always the signal for her to finish him off with her hand. She slowly backed her mouth from his swollen red member and began stroking him with a long motion of her hand, making sure to stretch his skin back really hard toward his body. After a few repetitions, she felt him start to spasm. She pointed his slender penis up towards his abdomen and watched as a few drops spurted forth toward his navel.

He gasped and said, "Oh yes. . . Thank you!" to his wife, who was now using his leg to steady herself as she stood again. She looked back at him and gave him a little smile as she started wheeling one of the cases into the bedroom, leaving him to clean the cum from his belly.

The rest of the day was spent in unpacking and arranging the furniture to accommodate their preferences. Michael hummed a mindless tune, content in the way the day seemed to be shaping up. They dined at the closest trattoria on their street, and went to bed early, cuddling in the narrow bed. Elizabeth waved him off early the next morning and stared out onto the street, silent in the near dawn.

2.

Michael had been gone over a week now. Elizabeth had spoken to him only once and the connection from Africa was incredibly poor, so their conversation was constrained to a couple sentences shouted in each direction. She thought she had heard him say he would be gone longer than expected and not to expect him on Friday as planned. She sighed and hung up after the line went dead and she got no ring back within a few minutes. She had cleaned and tidied their place so that it was immaculate, but she was growing a bit bored; there was only so much cleaning to be done.

Besides, she was feeling sufficiently confident in her ability to communicate in broken Italian and to go further afield than the corner green grocer. The day was bright and breezy and she decided to visit the Capitoline Museum, which was within walking distance of their place off the Piazza. She tried on several dresses before deciding on a summery green mid length dress, it showed a little too much cleavage she thought, but what was the point of being in Rome if you couldn't flaunt it a bit. She pulled on a sheer black thong which made her feel even more daring and sexy. Smoothing her dress down, she found a pair of low heels, then checked herself in the small mirror by the front door one last time, and stepped out onto the St. Peter's blocks on her narrow street.

The traffic was insane as always in Rome with scores of Fiat 500s treating the city streets as though they were a racing circuit. After waiting 10 minutes to cross the via Argentina, she did what all Roman pedestrians do, she simply stepped out into the street and let the drivers dodge around her. Coming up fast behind her was a tall, well dressed black man.

When they had both trotted safely to the opposing side of the street, he laughed and said something to her in Italian. She smiled back shyly and shook her head, saying, "Sorry, I'm afraid my Italian is not that good."

He looked surprised and responded in English, "Sorry, you looked Italian to me, so I just naturally thought . . . "

He shrugged, palms up and continued to walk beside her, matching her pace. Elizabeth then realized that he was the jogger she had seen several times from the second storey window of their flat. She was torn between ignoring him and responding to his remark. She chose the latter, perhaps out of boredom and not having anyone to speak English to for days. She responded, "You think I look Italian?"

He shrugged again and replied, "I could say that you all look alike to me. Isn't that what most white people say about blacks?"

Elizabeth's jaw dropped, and before she could censor herself, she blurted out, "Oh no, not true. In fact you look quite distinctive to me! In fact I have seen you jogging past my place several times now, and believe me you're quite unmistakable!"

Suddenly realizing that her remark might be taken the wrong way, her face reddened and she stammered, "I-I-mean, I have seen you in your running shorts a lot. I mean . . . Oh god, I don't know what I mean. I'm sorry, let me just stop saying stupid things. In fact, let me just stop, period."

He laughed, a broad smile lighting up his ebony features. He patted her back reassuringly, "It's ok. I understand. At least I think I do. Anyway, I think you look rather distinctive as well. I would never mistake you for someone else either."

They came to another corner, this time there was a policeman directing traffic, so they waited for his signal. Elizabeth wanted to keep the conversation going, so she asked, "Anyway, what did you mean when you said you thought I was Italian?"

He gestured expansively with his large hands and again flashed his brilliantly white teeth in a broad smile, then said, "Well, you have that dark hair and that alabaster skin and dark eyes like Northern Italian women have, and an incredible figure to go with it. You move with that kind of sexual grace that only Italian women seem to have."

He started to say more, and then thought that perhaps he had already said too much. He had taken an instant liking to this attractive woman, and he could already feel a stirring between his legs, but he didn't want to appear too forward. He offered apologetically, "I'm sorry, now it's my turn to be embarrassed. I meant what I said, but perhaps it was too forward of me."

Now Elizabeth's fair skin turned a darker shade of red that he could see descending down into her scoop neck dress. She stopped mid stride, turned to face him and said, "No, it's ok. I understand how you meant it, and I am very flattered by it. I am actually from America, from a place called Indiana, but it's nice that you thought I was Italian."

For the first time, she took him in visually. He was well over six feet tall perhaps, 6 feet, two or three inches. He looked solid as a rock and filled out the two piece grey suit he was wearing as though it had been custom tailored for his muscular frame. She had never looked at a black man as, well, a 'man' before, she thought to herself, but now she stood there taking stock of him in the way a woman does when she is obviously interested an a man. She remembered seeing him in the short jogging pants and thinking he was really 'hung', but she banished the thought as soon as it flew into her mind.


Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 01



She offered her hand and said, "My name is Elizabeth by the way."

Instead of shaking her hand, he raised it to his thick lips and holding her gaze he kissed it lightly, adding, "And I am Jusef, or in English, Joseph. Joseph Acuncumbi. I am here to do business development between my home country, Nigeria and European customers."

She felt the warmth and softness of his lips and her chest tingled, her body reacting naturally to his closeness. Careful, she thought to herself, you're a married woman, and besides, he's black. You shouldn't be thinking of him 'that way.'

Still, she thought, he seems like a real gentleman, and I love that English accent. They started walking again, and Joseph ventured a question, "So where are you headed, lovely Elizabeth from Indiana?"

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard the word 'lovely'. It had been quite a while since a man had paid her that compliment and she reacted to it viscerally in spite of her usually reserved nature. She decided to ignore the implied flirtation, but instead answered simply, "I'm headed to the museum, just to browse for a few hours."

A part of her was hoping he would ask to join her, but that would be stretching the limits of propriety, so when he said, "Great, I was heading there too," she smiled despite herself and responded, "Great, why don't we do it together."

Then after thinking for a moment, she added, "Hey wait. . . Rome is full of museums, how do you know which one I meant?"

She hoped to catch him in an awkward admission, but when he answered, "Elizabeth, it doesn't matter. I really would like to get to know you, so whichever one you're going to is fine with me."

With that she became really flustered and stammered, "Wait, I have to tell you. I am a married woman, Joseph. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea. I love my husband very much. Please respect that."

She increased the distance between them as they neared the Capitoline Hill and began to consider how she might get rid of him without making things awkward. This whole encounter was moving far too fast for her.

Joseph took her by the arm, and running his warm hands up and down her skin, protested, "Elizabeth, I simply want to be friends with you. Surely, there's no harm in that?"

Hearing these words, she felt relieved. Perhaps he was just asking for innocent friendship. Perhaps she was overreacting. Feeling the reassuring strength and warmth of his huge hand on her skin, she trembled a little, perhaps, she thought, perhaps she was also a little horny! Maybe she was projecting her sexual interest, and blaming him for what she was actually feeling. And damn, she thought, his hand felt good on the skin of her arm. She banished the thought though, reminding herself that in Indiana, white married women didn't talk to strange black men.

In truth, Joseph was already thinking far beyond friendship. He had just ended a 2 year relationship with a married French couple when they were forced by job demands to return to Paris. His cock ached when he thought of the blonde French wife and her very cosmopolitan husband who loved to watch Joseph fuck his wife and asked nothing more in return than to take the random picture of them. Maybe this woman's husband could be taught to be just as accommodating, he thought to himself. After all, the husband was not in evidence and she appeared to be out on her own. Maybe the husband traveled a lot. Perhaps this would be easier than he imagined.

3.

Joseph suggested that they grab lunch in a trattoria down the street from the museum, and Elizabeth decided that sounded like a great idea, as she had worked up an appetite from the long walk. When they sat down, she noticed that the proprietor was acting very rudely to them, and asked Joseph if he noticed that too. He frowned and said, "Yes, I get that a lot -- especially if I am with a beautiful white woman. Italians don't necessarily approve of us being together."

Elizabeth frowned too, and became angry and defensive on Joseph's behalf. She said, "Maybe we should just walk out and find another place."

She took his hand and told him, "Just ignore him. I certainly don't think it's wrong for us to be together."

Joseph stared into her deep purple eyes, and said, "Thank you, Elizabeth. I don't either." With that he took her delicate hand and raised it to his lips. His eyes traveled down her face to her cleavage and he thought how wonderful it would be to have his lips on her breasts and feel her panting for him. He wondered how her pussy would taste and how wet she would become for him, then he reminded himself to go slow at least for now. He wanted her and his body told him that in no uncertain terms, but he needed to win her confidence.

The proprietor retreated to the bar and continued to look hotly at them. On catching his hate filled stare, Elizabeth had a sudden thought; she turned to Joseph and said brightly, "Joseph, let's give him something to talk about. Would you like to shock the hell out of him?"

With that she leaned across the table and taking his face in her hands, kissed him on the lips. Joseph was shocked at first, but quickly got into it. His full lips engulfed hers and she parted hers slightly, expecting the kiss to end there. She was shocked when she felt the tip of his broad tongue invading her mouth and she recoiled slightly, pulling back from him. Joseph took her face in his huge hands and whispered, "Look, to really make him angry, we have to 'sell' this. Kiss me like we are going to get up, walk out of here, and spend all afternoon in bed together. Let's do it."

A devious smile came to her heart shaped face, and she eagerly opened her lips and he advanced toward her. Now she felt his tongue on hers and as the kiss grew longer and more intimate, she felt as if her body could simply melt. Joseph's hand left her face and under the table, she felt his hand travel up under the hem of her dress. She grasped and tried to pull back, but Joseph held her face, whispering, "Trust me, it's working. I can just feel his hate. Follow my lead."

Indeed, when he saw the coal black hand slide up the woman's pale thigh, the proprietor turned several shades of purple and the veins stood out at his temples. At the same time, his little member began to swell and he tried to gulp away the lump in his throat. 

A moment later, Joseph took her hand and placed it on his thigh. Breaking the kiss and leaning across the table to kissing and caressing her slender neck he whispered, "This is working. Run your hand up my thigh like we have been lovers forever."

Now Elizabeth was panting slightly, both from the feeling of his hand moving up and down her leg, and from the reaction to his kisses on her neck. She decided to go all in and began to move her hand up his muscular thigh. It felt incredibly solid, unlike her middle aged husband's body. as her hand moved, suddenly a new feeling met her fingers. She was feeling his cock, but a part of her mind told her surely it was far too big to be that. As she massaged it gently, she confirmed it in her own mind -- yes, that was in fact his 'thingie.' She always felt uncomfortable talking about the sexual parts of the body, so for now at least it was a 'thingie.'

But what a 'thingie' she thought. He was huge and he seemed to be growing larger as she continued to rub him through his pants. Her body was reacting to his masculinity as she felt him and her mouth began to water as Joseph renewed his deep kiss. His hand was now high up on her thigh, dangerously close to her panties. But it felt so good, she thought, and they were just play acting to piss off this bigot. She told herself that there was no harm in it; they were both enjoying it, and besides teaching this restaurant owner a valuable lesson.

Suddenly they both heard a string of curses in Italian and breaking the kiss, they looked over at the proprietor who was the source of the shouting. Joseph grabbed her by the wrist in his and they bolted from the restaurant through the open front, laughing uproariously. When they were halfway down the block, they stopped running, then looked at one another, each studying the other's features.

It was as if Elizabeth saw him now for the first time. His coal black skin seem luminous and his eyes dark and penetrating. She could almost feel the masculine strength radiating from his body. He took her hand and stared into her eyes. Her pupils had become much larger, as always happens when a woman is reacting to a man sexually. In her flush of excitement, her lips too became fuller too, to offer more surface area to a lover. The skin of her cheeks and the nape of her neck was a pronounce pink, another tell-tale sign.

Seizing the moment, Joseph pressed his body into hers, kissing her full on the lips. This time there was no hesitation. Her mouth opened wide to accept his kiss and when their tongues touched she felt a tingle that started in her breasts and travelled through her body down to that place between her legs where - she thought to herself - only her husband had the right to be.

She felt a strong urge to press her body into his; to respond to the urgency she felt coursing through her body. An equally strong urge told her to pull back from him and run away. She tried to think, and to decide what to do. On the one hand, she really felt wonderful inside, a sexual flush pulsing everywhere through her body. What could be the harm in giving into a feeling like this, she thought - especially in a public setting? When had she last felt this good? On the other hand, this man was a stranger, and he was black. If her parents could be here, seeing her passionately kissing this tall black son of Africa, how much scorn would they heap on her. Only when Joseph's hand slid down from her back to cup her firm butt, did reality interrupt. She pulled back sharply and pushed Joseph away from her.

He looked at her appearing confused. He hesitated for a moment then said quietly, "I'm sorry. I probably went too far. Perhaps we should call it a day."

Elizabeth shook her head, and resting both hands on his well-defined chest, she said equally quietly, "No Joseph, we haven't done anything wrong. You didn't do anything wrong. I just got a little carried away. Let's just hit the reset button. If you're ready to do the museum, then so am I."

She smiled at him and he lifted her chin, noticing that her eyes were dewy. "Sure," he said, "So let's go see a museum!" He took her hand in his. This time, she did not pull away.

4.

They spent hours at the Capitoline, and It had grown late now. They had talked and laughed and Joseph had translated all the descriptions on the placards accompanying the exhibits into English for her. He remarked on her resemblance to an ancient Roman sculpture of the goddess Venus, and how her skin color was the very echo of the statue's marble. They got to know one another and Joseph opened up to her about his life, growing up in Africa, attending Oxford, and in some detail about the French couple he had been in a relationship with. Often he would put his arm around her waist when they walked or when he wanted to draw her attention to one of the incredible Roman nude sculptures and she had to admit to herself that she enjoyed his attention. Once in a gallery filled with marbles of ancient gods and goddesses, her hand fell from his waist to his rock solid butt and he didn't seem to mind, or at least not notice. When she realized what she had been doing, she pulled her hand away sharply. He took every opportunity to pull her close to him and it felt wonderful several times when her breast would graze his side or he would squeeze her closer to him.

When the closing bell rang, he looked at her then said, "This has been a wonderful day. I really loved your company."

She said nothing but simply smiled at him. Descending the stairs, flanked by the Michelangelo sculptures, he asked an African tourist to take their picture. The man took his iPhone then moved them into place near the rightmost Michelangelo so he could do the snapshot. The man shouted in heavily accented English from a short distance, "Move behind your wife so I can get you both in the frame." Elizabeth started to protest that Joseph wasn't her husband, but that would have been awkward, so she said nothing. 

The man took a couple snapshots, then suggested he do one with them kissing. Joseph didn't need to be asked twice, and spun Elizabeth so they were facing. He kissed her long and hard and again she felt his tongue invade her mouth. She returned his kiss with a passion he had not expected, and they kissed for several seconds. Elizabeth didn't want it to end, but at long last the man returned the iPhone and they were alone again. Joseph suggested they take a taxi back to the Piazza, and Elizabeth didn't object. She decided that when she got back to the apartment, she would take a long bath and soak her feet.

They hailed a cab and were squeezed tightly together in the back of a small Fiat. Elizabeth immediately offered her hand and for several minutes they simply held hands and rode in silence. Then Joseph put his arm around her and she rested her head against his broad chest, tired but happy. He lifted her face and kissed her deeply, and again she didn't object. The hand around her shoulder descended and rested lightly on her breast. A sudden panic hit her and she tried to break off the kiss and create some distance between them. Joseph forcefully held her in place and now his mouth was kissing her neck passionately while his hand circled her breast. Through the lightweight material he could feel the fullness of her breast. He circled her nipple and felt it grow hard and long.

Now Elizabeth held his head and stroked his close cropped hair while he kissed her neck. Without warning, he slid his free hand under her dress and massaged her thigh as he continued to kiss and bite her neck. His hand moved up her thigh, much further than he had done in the trattoria, within inches of her pussy and close enough to feel the delicious dampness of her crotch, He thought she might protest but instead, she parted her legs a little more, which was completely unexpected. He cupped her pussy with the palm of his hand and she moaned slightly, just loud enough for him to hear.

Elizabeth felt wonderful in a way she hadn't for years, but at the same time felt safe. He could only go so far in the taxi after all and the ride would be over in a few minutes anyway. What, she asked herself, what was the worst that could happen? Joseph's big hand continued to cup and press against her pussy and she responded by pressing back against his hand. He slid the flimsy material of her thong panty aside and she gasped suddenly as his large middle finger pushed into her vagina.

"Oh God, Joseph, please stop. Please," she begged him between ragged breaths.

Joseph stopped kissing her neck and stared intently at her for several seconds. Then he whispered calmly, "Do you really want me to stop."

Elizabeth made no answer and for several more seconds it seemed as if they were frozen in time. He didn't remove his finger, but instead left it motionless at her opening. Then he kissed her again, working his big warm lips against hers. His finger began to move again, in and out of her pussy, pushing against her clit which was now becoming hard and distended. His finger moved more rapidly now as he resumed making little hickeys on her exposed neck. Her hips rocked against his hand and after only a few more second she bit her lower lip to keep from screaming as her legs began to shake, Her chest and face became flushed as she let out a very loud moan as she climaxed heavily, her body slumping into the hard seat. Eyes dreamily half closed, she looked completely exhausted from what had just happened,

Joseph looked into her eyes and calmly kissed her lips several times lightly. He put his middle finger to his own lips then circled Elizabeth's parted lips with it. Slowly, he began to move it in and out of her mouth and told her, "I wish this was my cock, moving between your lips, feeling your wetness against it."

Shyly, she continued to suck his offered finger and then did something that surprised even her. She laid her outstretched hand over his cock and began slowly squeezing it. His head moved back against the seat and his eyes closed as she alternated between squeezing and massaging him. All too soon they reached her tiny street and she had to stop.





Joseph paid the driver and escorted her to her front door. He brushed her hair back from her face, and together they laughed at what had just happened in the taxi.

He held her hand in is and told her with mock seriousness, "You realize I will have to go home and take a shower in ice water now!"

She looked down at his belt line and said only half-jokingly, "Well, if you could only come upstairs, I could take care of that." She winked at him and ran her hands over his chest, the added, "Joseph, I really enjoyed to-day. More than I can say, and I am hoping we can become friends. But you know that I am married, and more importantly for me, I know it too. I can't . . ."

She let the rest of the sentence hang in the air and Joseph could see that there was a sadness in her countenance. This one, he thought to himself, this one could be mine. I just need to be patient and I can take everything. He smiled at her again and whispered, "I understand baby, I really do."

Deciding to play the perfect gentleman, he brushed her hair aside, stroked her face and leaned into a tender kiss. He was building an innate sense of how far he could go with her and so he pressed his hard cock into her body and held her tight to him, squeezing her buttocks with both hands. He moved his lips in a slow circular motion on hers, maximizing the sensual feel of the kiss. He moved one hand to her neck, stroking it lightly as he fondled her soft ass cheek with the other. He pushed her backwards into her dark doorway, away from the prying eyes of the diners across the narrow street.

He started to pull back from the kiss, but now Elizabeth was the aggressor, unwilling to stop. She pushed her lips hard against his and sucked his thick probing tongue. Joseph decided to press his advantage further. He slid his hand down her neck and under both her dress and bra. For the first time since her marriage to Michael, Elizabeth felt another man's powerful hand on her breast and the feeling completely took her breath away. Joseph could feel the firmness of her little breast and her nipple responding to his touch. He twirled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and stretched it away from her body. The pleasure and the pain combined to make her breathe fast and shallow and her body swayed in the Roman twilight beneath the dark canopy over her inset front door.

He kneaded her breast and moved his lips down her neck, leaving little bite marks and hickeys that made her squirm and moan with delight. She bit her lower lip as he pushed the narrow strap of her V-neck dress and transparent bra strap down to expose her breast in the moonlight. As his lips moved over her collarbone, he looked furtively to make sure there was no one else in the street. His kiss covered the swell of her breast but as his lips moved to take her nipple in his mouth, he felt her shake her head and utter, "No, no, no. . . I . . . I can't. I can't. Oh God, Joseph, I can't. Oh God, it feels soooo good. Don't stop. Oh God, don't stop. Oh God, I don't know . . . Oh please stop."

He opened his lips wider taking much more of her breast into his mouth, all the while teasing her stiff nipple with his wet tongue and his teeth. Her breathing became a gasping pant now as she held his close shaven head to her breast. She steadily stroked his head and held it onto her rapidly swelling breast. She groaned like a cat and all sense of presence left her. She didn't want it to stop and yet a part of her held her back. Her pussy was now lubricating copiously and her vaginal walls were throbbing. She felt powerless to stop him or unable to utter even a single word as wave after wave of excitement pulsed through her body. She wanted him desperately and her body was preparing itself for him sexually.




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 01



Eyes tightly closed, she smiled and continued to stroke his head, feeling the utter bliss of the moment with this powerful black stranger. Every fiber of her being tingled. A sudden noise a street away compelled her to open her eyes. When she looked down at the black face sucking her pale breast and pulling at her nipple, she compulsively pulled away from him. Regardless of what her body was telling her, her mind recoiled. She thought -- Oh God no, no. This can't be happening. Elizabeth, how can you let this black man touch you, kiss you, put his mouth on your breasts. All the racist rhetoric and teaching from her family in the Midwest crowded into her brain in that moment.

She pushed the powerfully built African away with both hands, but it was like shoving against a brick wall. After several seconds, she simply gave up and gave into the feelings flooding her loins. Her hips rocked forward, pushing her pussy into his leg and to his obviously swollen cock. She leaned slightly forward and kissed his head with light kisses while continuing to stroke his neck. Opening her eyes slightly she watched almost as if out of her own body as her pale hand caressed the sinews of his strong black neck. He eyes travelled to where his thick black lips were joined with her swollen breast and her lips parted. Silently, she whispered words below the level of anyone's hearing, "I want you. God forgive me. I want you."

Joseph shifted his stance, then started to press his rock hard member into contact with Elizabeth's pussy. He looked up and saw her closed eyes, then slid the other strap of her dress down. Now both breasts were exposed and she did nothing to protest. He shifted his kiss to her other breast then slid his hand up to cup the breast he had been fervently kissing.

Elizabeth leaned her back against the doorframe and let the lust take her away. Just as the streetlights were winking on, she heard, and then saw the band of young black men and their white girlfriends sauntering down the street to pass them on their way to their usual street corner.

One of them, the one who most assertive in his control of the pregnant Italian girl, shouted something in Italian over at Joseph, who abruptly stopped kissing Elizabeth. When the younger black man continued and gestured at them excitedly, she quickly hiked up her dress straps covering her reddened and passion-swollen breasts. She turned away from them and from Joseph and, hiding her face, quickly keyed the oak door, stumbled inside and closed it loudly behind her. She slammed her back and her palms against the door and caught her breath. A few seconds later, hearing nothing on the other side of the door, she raced upstairs to launch herself face down onto the bed she shared with her husband. It was that thought which finally brought her back to reality. This bed, her body, her affections, her loyalty could only belong to one man and that man had to be her beloved Michael.  

5.

During the week, Elizabeth got several voice calls from Joseph which she ignored, and for the last couple days he had been sending text messages. His tone was apologetic, but he was insistent that they had done nothing wrong and she was entitled to feel the passion that he was sure she shared. He had included some of the "touristy" pictures from his iPhone, and then started to send her only the ones of them kissing or posing affectionately. These caused Elizabeth to color with embarrassment, but she also found them very stimulating sexually.

One night, she flipped through the lot of them, then closed her eyes and fingered her clit to two climaxes within 30 minutes, which was a first for her. Memories and images of Joseph sneaked into her brain unbidden both times, which made her disgusted with herself.

She was torn between dual emotions: on the one hand wanting to keep them, and on the other to destroy them immediately lest her beloved Michael ever see them. In the end, she decided to keep them, but vowed to delete them before Michael came home from Africa. She had one more night before his return, and remembering the orgasms from the night before, she decided to put the images to good use, settling into bed naked she thumbed through the pictures of her and Joseph with one hand and circled her clit with the other. It felt wonderfully good and this time she didn't close her eyes, staring intently at the images of herself deeply kissing a striking black man.

Her iPhone jingled its Marimba ringtone right in the midst of this, and she saw that it was Michael. She anxiously answered the call, pressing her legs together as if to will away the passion that was making her body tingle all over. She composed herself, exhaled then answered brightly, "Hello darling! I was just thinking about you."

Michael voice came back sounding metallic and tinny, "Good thoughts I hope." He continued, "I don't know if this connection will hold up, but I just wanted to tell you I will be home Sunday night dear."

Elizabeth responded, "Oh, I am so glad. Only a few more days. I have missed you so much it hurts. I hope you'll be in the mood to mess around." She wasn't lying, but suddenly felt conflicted; the feelings she had for her husband were already beginning to intermingle with those she had been feeling a few minutes before and that confused her. Unconsciously, she reached into the bedside nightstand, checking to make sure there were still a few condoms there. Elizabeth was unable to use oral birth control because of possible side effects, so their contraception method for the last 18 years had been rubbers. She knew that women in her family were fertile well into their late 40's and she didn't want to come back home from Italy with an unwanted passenger. Her silence for the several seconds it took to check caused Michael to ask, "Something wrong, Elizabeth?"

Startled, she said, "What's that? Oh no honey. I'm just happy to hear your voice. Hurry back home as soon as you can so we can 'celebrate'," she said with a little laugh. Michael responded, "It's a deal. I had no idea I had such an effect on you. I will ask the Nigerian negotiators to put a rush on . . . " Then there was only silence on the line. The phone connection had failed them again. Elizabeth sighed, waited so see if he could connect again, then after a few minutes, she started a bath, and poured herself a healthy glass of Chianti rosso. She added bubbles to the water and after a few more minutes slipped in. She sat several minutes with closed eyes letting the bubbles soothe her. She had left her iPhone right next to the claw-foot bath in case Michael called again and when it jingled, she picked it up and answered, "Hi Baby, I was hoping it was you. I taking a bubble bath to take my mind off how much I need you to make love to me."

When she heard the hearty laugh on the other end of the line, the call sounded much clearer than before. Her jaw dropped when she heard not Michael alto voice, but Joseph's English-accented bass saying, "I knew it was just a matter of time before I wore you down. I'll be right over and we can fuck all night."

Elizabeth was so flustered that she simply sat in silence in the warm bubble bath. Joseph sensed that something was amiss, and thinking quickly, he closed the awkward conversation gap. He said evenly, "Elizabeth, I am guessing that you might have been expecting someone else. Honestly though, my offer still stands, and the fact that you're still listening means to me that you may be conflicted, but you are definitely interested."

She still said nothing. Instead a deep frown worried her brow. She licked her lips and tried to compose her reply, then offered, "Joseph, I . . . I don't know what I'm feeling and it's hard to put into words. Before we met and spent the day together last Tuesday, I had never thought of myself as anything but a wife. The thought of begin with another man, especially a black man was the farthest thing on my mind."

Thinking about her words, she added quickly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything racist about black people. It's just that back home," she chose to tread lightly on a delicate subject, "Seeing a white woman with a black man . . .it's not something that's sort of 'allowed', you know? And whenever we'd see a white woman with a black man, we were taught to think she is a slut." She went on carefully, "It's weird now that I think back on the few times, I have seen it. The girl would be dragging along two black babies, and pregnant with a third and walking contentedly beside her black man. Those girls always looked sort of proud or defiant to me, you know? Even here, there's a gang that hangs out on my corner. The girls practically dare people to confront them."

Elizabeth fell silent and it was Joseph's turn to respond, saying, "So Elizabeth, are you saying you can't see us together? That your feelings about being with a black man are so negative that we could never be lovers? That you didn't feel something last Tuesday?"

He had boxed her in, framing his questions so that it would be nearly impossible for her to say no to any of his questions.

She closed her eyes and tried to compose a reply, "Oh God, Joseph, that's not it at all. The truth is, I have been thinking about you a LOT . . . and it's difficult for me to explain how much of an effect you're having on me without getting, you know -- graphic. Oh my God, did I just say that? I mean . . . Oh never mind. Let me just shut up again before my mouth gets me in more trouble."

He laughed warmly and just like that, the awkwardness, the space between them simply vanished. It was as if they were already lovers, sharing intimacies. His voice became low and sexy as he said, "I have been thinking about you too, my sweet Elizabeth. In fact, I am 'thinking' about you right now if you get my meaning." he hesitated a second then added, "Elizabeth, are you alone? I want to send you a picture, and then maybe you will see why all those white girls back in America are so contented with their black men."

Elizabeth let this sink in and in seconds, a picture came across the SMS link. She nervously opened the link. In the picture, a stunning blonde was on her knees, sucking on the biggest, thickest black cock she had ever seen -- in fact the only one she had ever seen. the blonde was obviously very pregnant and her eyes looked up admiringly at her lover. Elizabeth scrolled up to see the man's face, admiring his cut torso along the way. Reaching the top of the picture, she saw Joseph's chiseled features, his eyes closed in what appeared to be total bliss. Her body reacted first to the photo. Her nipples became erect as she sat up in the bath and the cool air touched them, then she reacted intellectually. She was actually a bit jealous of the woman in the picture. In the back of her mind, she thought that she wanted to be the woman, then instantly banished the thought.

A second picture came through and Elizabeth eagerly opened it. This time the woman was being fucked by a very muscular black man, her legs wide open and pinned back by strong black arms. She couldn't see the man's face, but from the deep ebony of his skin, it was obviously Joseph. She licked her lips as she devoured the vision of his strong, chiseled black ass between the woman's legs, splayed wide open. Elizabeth moaned lowly, but enough for Joseph to hear. He told her, "And now my dear, a little video clip for you."

Now she could hardly contain her excitement as the video transferred across to her phone. When the video started, she saw Joseph from the side fucking the same blonde woman, who was not pregnant in this one. Elizabeth concluded that this must have been done earlier than the other ones. The camera continued to pan from the head of the bed around to the side. The woman's arms were wrapped around the ebony ass pulling him tightly into her. Her calves caressed his flanks as she ground her hips into him, thrusting up to meet his downward strokes. She moaned continuously and all at once cried out as she obviously experienced a deep roaring climax. As the videographer reached the foot of the bed, he stopped there and focused on Joseph's pistoning motions in the woman's pussy, which was clearly stretched very wide open. As the camera zoomed, focusing on Joseph's huge balls and the underside of his enormous cock, he could be heard to say, "Are you ready to be bred, Lisette? Ready to feel my hot cum?"

The woman replied between ragged breaths, "Mai oui, Jusef. Fuck me. Put your love inside me. Make me big with your baby, Mon Cher."

Elizabeth watched fixedly as Joseph pumped several more times and groaned loudly as he came hard inside the blonde. Even though her pussy was tightly filled by his glistening cock, some of Joseph's glowing white cum could be seen dripping from her pussy. Her pushed again hard and the woman gasped. As he rose from her to take his place by her side, a large blob of cum plopped from her pussy which was still expanded like a rubber band, and gaping opening.

Nothing was said between her and Joseph for over a minute, then Joseph ventured, "Do you understand now, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth's heart was racing and her body tingling again. She stood up in the bath, and absent mindedly reached for a towel. "Ummm . . . Joseph," she said, "Do you have Skype?" I need to dry off and get out of my bath. I . . . I think I want to talk some more if you'd like to video chat."

Joseph smiled to himself. it was simply a matter of time now. He gave her his Skype ID, and then casually stripped off his shorts and tee shirt to await her call. Elizabeth ran hurriedly to her marital bed then quickly threw on a decidedly unsexy flannel robe.

Nervously, she brought up Skype and then when it was clear that Joseph had answered pressed video mode. His broad smile and flashing white teeth greeted her. She began awkwardly, "Umm . . . I . . . I don't even know why I am doing this."

Joseph jumped in, saying, "We both know why you're doing this. Look Elizabeth, it's very clear that we are attracted to each other, and clearly we have a mutual interest. Obviously I love beautiful white women and you're now clearly interested in black men, or at least one black man." He chuckled as he said this.

Elizabeth had a ton of questions, so she cleared her throat noisily, diving right in, "The woman, Joseph. Who is she."

"I told you Elizabeth, I had a long and wonderful affair with a French couple who are now far away, back in Paris."

Elizabeth stared fixedly at the dark black face on her iPad, then she ventured, "And the baby? I mean, she was pregnant. Who was the father? Whose . . . whose . . ."

Joseph held up his hand, showing his pink palm as if to wave away her question. He replied evenly, "We both know the answer to that, don't we darling. It was the first one I gave her, a boy. Followed in a year by a beautiful little black girl."

Elizabeth was full of emotion now, following with another question, "Did . . . did you love her? Did she . . . love you? And there was a husband, right?" Elizabeth had noticed a diamond ring and a wedding band on the woman and it was obvious that someone had taken the pictures and video.

Joseph smiled again and replied, "Let's just say that both she and her husband were very content with the relationship." He shook his head and chuckled, adding, "At first, she used to say 'It was just about the sex'; soon she didn't say that anymore."

Elizabeth frowned then asked, "The husband . . . What about the husband?"

Joseph shrugged, "He loved watching me fuck his wife. Many men have a secret fantasy about this. It became his only sexual outlet -- other than cleaning Lisette's pussy after we fucked. Cherie, don't worry, we will train your sweet little hubby."

Elizabeth stammered, "Joseph, that . . . that just will never happen. I . . . I can't see anything like that ever happening - ever. Michael -- my husband -- would rather die first. I mean the whole idea . . "

Michael looked at her sternly, then said, "This is what Lisette said at first too. Trust me. Your little Michael will not be a problem. I will teach you how to condition him the right way. In no time he will be begging you to be in my bed. Elizabeth, let's not play games. We both know why we got onto video chat. You want to see what I have for you.. But first, I want to see what you are going to give to me, and soon to me alone." He added in a demanding tone, "Remove that silly robe, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth knew it was why she started the Skype session too. She was paralysed to do anything other than obey his voice. She propped the iPad on the nightstand and in a timid voice asked simply, "Can . . . can you see me alright?"

When Joseph nodded and seemed to stare at her through the screen, she slowly unknotted the tie around her robe and slid it down off her shoulders. He smiled as her delicate little breasts came into clear view, showing him her nipples standing out proudly. He admired her breasts swollen with excitement. He titled his tablet's camera down so she could see his growing manhood. As she opened her robe completely, pushing the material off her hips, she gasped when she saw his cock. "Oh my God," she said, "You're enormous. I . . . I could never . . ."

Joseph admired her seen in profile and he stroked his cock slowly, letting her see it grow and tilt up toward his abdomen. He smiled again and said, "Don't worry. After we have fucked a few weeks, you will begin to adjust to me. In fact, you will begin to crave my big black cock. It's one of the reasons they always say in your country, 'Once a woman goes black, she never goes back'. But there are other reasons as well, and I look forward to teaching you about those as well. Darling, move the camera so I can see between your legs."

At first, Elizabeth started to rebuff him for the claim that they would ever fuck once much less 'for a few weeks', but then did as she was bidden. Joseph acted as her master now, telling her exactly what he wanted to see, saying, "Spread your pussy lips. Mmmmm very nice. Now run your finger over your clitty. Mmmmm lovely. Elizabeth, you have a lovely soft little muff. I can't wait to feel it against my face."

Elizabeth moved a finger in and out of her vaginal lips, again following Joseph's direction. She was beginning to move toward a small climax, as she fixedly stared at Joseph who was now pulling his foreskin back and showing her his huge helmeted glans, glistening and stark pink in contrast to the deep blackness of his long, thick shaft. Now Elizabeth picked up the pace and fingered her pussy, her finger shone brightly in the camera as it became wet with her juices. Joseph could see her wedding ring as it caught the light from the bedside lamp.

Suddenly, he stopped stroking his rigid cock, and said pointedly to Elizabeth in a quiet voice, "Elizabeth, stop and look at me."

She opened her eyes, and pulled her finger from her pussy. Little beads of perspiration shone on her forehead as she looked quizzically into the camera. "Yes, Joseph?" she said, catching her breath.

Joseph move the tablet camera back so she could see his face. He said simply, "We both know you want something more powerful than your finger in your pussy, don't we?"

Elizabeth's cheeks burned scarlet. Before picking up the iPad to end the call, she said simply, "How soon can you be here?"



Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 02



6.

In less than ten minutes, she heard a strong pounding at the door. She barely had time to wipe her pussy and squirt a mist of her favourite perfume between her legs and in the nape of her neck. When she heard the knock, she threw the robe on and raced downstairs. Breathlessly, she threw the door open and Joseph stepped through. He walked into her, backing her against the wall. He tugged at her robe, and when the knotted tie refused to cooperate, Elizabeth tore it down from her hips while accepting Joseph's broad tongue deep in her mouth.

Now she was completely naked before the tall muscular African. She threw both arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe, not wanting the body contact to end. Joseph broke the kiss momentarily then after eyeing the staircase, leaned to scoop Elizabeth's nude form up. She felt like a child in his strong arms. He carried her as though she weighed nothing at all to the top of the stairs, then looked for a second to locate the bedroom. Moving deftly, he posited her on the bed. As if in a dream she swept her hand over his still clothed body. He smiled down at her and stated matter-of-factly, "You will undress me."

She considered it for a second then moved to the side of the bed and stood to face him. She felt so short compared to him it was if she was a little girl and he was a giant. Slowly, she began to unbutton his shirt and when it fell from his broad shoulders she kissed his body. His funky scent filled her nostrils but she loved it. He had clearly run over to her flat and she accepted his sweat and his odor as a tribute to his passion for her. She kissed his nipples and his torso before sinking to her knees. In the back of her mind was the image of Lisette sucking Joseph's giant cock. She was eager to show him that she could please him every bit as well as the French mother of two of his spawn. She thought to herself, I'll make him forget she ever existed. She couldn't decide why it was so important to prove her abilities as a lover to him, but at the moment, it was all she cared about.

She tugged at his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. He wore no underwear, so much to her surprise, his huge black cock popped right out and sprang against her mouth. Not only was he long, at least 8 or 9 inches she decided, but his girth was huge as well. He would teach her to open her jaws wide and to suppress her gag reflect to deep throat him -- in fact it would quickly become a point of pride for her -- but on this first night, this first time, when she began to lick the hard black shaft, she couldn't imagine taking more than the head in her mouth. When she heard him direct her in his deep voice, "Suck it Elizabeth. Suck it. Show me how much you want it," she knew she wanted it as much as he did.

She opened her lips and covered his pink tip. He told her to pull back his ample foreskin, so she tried to circle his girth with her small hand. When she failed, Joseph reached down and covering her hand, he pulled it back for her. Instantly, the funky scent of his masculinity filled the space between them. In time, she would grow to love his scent. In fact, even her own pheromones would change so that people would be able to detect that she was his woman. In time, she would actually be able to catch the smell of his arousal any time he was near her and her mouth would salivate involuntarily in anticipation of surrounding his cock with her eager lips and tongue. Tonight however, the scent was almost too much for her.

Gamely, she pressed on however, slowly moving her wet mouth down his mushroom shaped head and a couple inches onto the shaft. She moved her mouth back and forth slowly and deliberately, delighting in his moans. He began to rock his hips forward, caressing her soft black hair. Each time, Elizabeth was able to take a little more of him in her mouth. Joseph became caught up in the feeling and thrust hard down her throat. She gagged hard and choked, expelling his shaft covered with gobs of her saliva. His rod bounced up into her face and she shook her head apologetically. Steadying herself by holding onto his legs, she coughed and said, "Sorry."

Now she ran her hands over his sleek thighs and reached up to take his black cock in to her mouth again. He lifted her to her feet and said, "Come, it is time, Elizabeth."

Her knees trembled so much that she could not stand without Joseph's support. She backed onto the bed and slowly opened her legs as she watched him move to her. She reached over without thinking, and opened the nightstand. She felt for, then pulled out a condom and with her teeth and free hand ripped the little package open. Joseph was kissing her shoulder blade so this went unnoticed. When he looked at her, he said with a note of surprise in his voice, "What is this?"

Elizabeth pushed against his chest, but of course he remained immovable. She explained quickly, "Joseph, I am fertile, very fertile in fact. All the other women in my family have 3 or 4 children. Believe it or not, my Mother had seven. I can't use birth control, so Michael and I have always used these."

Joseph pushed her hand aside knocking the rubber to the floor, "No, Elizabeth. Nothing comes between me and my woman. Besides, those things always break on me -- they are never large enough. Don't worry, I will pull before I cum if that is what you must have, but no rubber. Not tonight. Not ever."

Elizabeth wanted him so badly that she decided that it would have to be his way, but she would insist he not cum inside her. She reached up and caressed his neck with both arms. He slowly sank onto her. Their mouths were locked in a deep and long kiss. She could feel his hips gyrating in slow circles, and then his broad cock head at the opening of her vagina. He maneuvered his cock so that it was just touching her clit and the opening of her mons. She clawed eagerly at his back, in heat and needing his penetration. Propped on his strong arms above her, he asked, "Are you ready?"

Her worried brow furrowed. She looked into his deep eyes and answered, "Oh yes. Yesssss. I am soooo ready!"

He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Ready for what? Are you ready for my cock?"

"Oh God, Joseph, I want you inside me so bad. I want your cock so bad." Elizabeth moaned and tugged on his waist.

"Elizabeth, I thought that where you come from, white girls don't beg to be fucked by a black cock. I thought that black cock was forbidden. Are you begging me to fuck you with my big black African cock? Perhaps you'd better tell me if that's what you want."

He circled her opening, just touching her vaginal opening lightly. She grew mad with desire. Through clenched jaws, she said, "Please Joseph, Please, please, please. Fuck me now with your big black cock. Fuck me. Take me, take all of me. Please!"

Satisfied, Joseph clenched his strong ass to push into her wet opening. Elizabeth gasped then bit her lip as she felt him penetrate her for the first time. He was the first man inside her pussy other than her husband since her marriage, and with him, she felt like a virgin. Tears came to her eyes, both in reaction to being taken this hard and this deep by such a powerful man and from the pain of his huge girth expanding her vaginal canal to what she was sure would do permanent damage. Her heart felt like it was in her throat, and surprising even herself, she pulled on his tight black ass down needing to take him even deeper into her wet pussy.

He began to fuck her with a steady rocking thrust and she responded by obediently moving her hips and matching his rhythm. After the first ten minutes, she was surprised that the pain was gone and only a constant torment of wonderful sensations rippling through her body remained. For now, Joseph was pushing no more than 6 or so inches into her, but as the feeling of delight became almost unbearable for her, she spread her legs as wide as possible, and thrust her hips up toward her black lover, watching his dark shaft thrust in and then slowly withdraw from her pussy, stretching every surface inside her. He bottomed out in her vagina, bouncing against the opening to her womb. She winced in pain and pulled her hips back but then her insatiable need for him caused her to push her hips up to meet him again.

He pushed into the ring opening of her womb again, but this time she expected it, and decided it actually felt good, if a little strange. She couldn't believe how filled she felt with him inside her and how he seemed to touch every nerve ending. He rested momentarily, supporting his weight by his powerful forearms. He held his cock steady against her cervix, jerking it and pressing it against the opening to her womb. His cock was ejaculating large amounts of pre-cum on her cervix, softening it and slowly opening it for the girth of his cock.

Then he picked up the pace again. Their hips seemed to move together without conscious effort as they kissed deeply. Joseph began to kiss her sensitive earlobes and to leave little tracks of bite marks on her delicate white neck. She knew that he would leave marks -- there were already marks on her boobs from where he sucked them days before, but she didn't care, she held his head tightly in place as he sucked and nibbled her neck. She couldn't get enough of his lips on her neck as their bodies rocked in concert.

Suddenly, she exploded in an thunderous orgasm, crying aloud as the climax rocked her body. She held him tightly against her neck as he continued to suck and leave hickies, marking what had tonight become 'his territory'.

Her orgasm was followed in short order by a loud groan from him as he pulled quickly from her pussy and came on her taut tummy, which was now glistening with a pool of their sweat. She watched in amazement as huge rivulets of his cum sprayed onto her stomach and the underside of her breasts.

She relaxed, then smoothed her sweat-matted hair back off her face and her new lover moved beside her. They lay in the afterglow of their first shared orgasm before she stepped into the bathroom to wash the streams of cum from her body. She came back to bed and he reached out to her. They lay side by side for a solid five minutes, holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes before the lust for Joseph began to rise within Elizabeth again. She moved from beside him and positioned herself between his legs.

Her head moved toward his crotch as she breathed in the heady mix of his manhood and their sex and lowered her mouth onto his flaccid but still huge cock. Her head began to bob up and down and she tenderly took his huge balls into one hand while moving the other lovingly, up and down his shaft with the motions of her mouth. Joseph reached down to pull on her nipples as she began to suck in earnest and she moaned in joy. In five minutes of her deep sucking, he was rock hard again. She reclined on the bed and he mounted her again. Her pussy felt raw and sore, but she pushed past that knowing how badly she needed him inside her. It felt so incredible, and if possible even better than the first time.

She reached a climax within five minutes and incredibly, the climax continued pulsing through her pussy making her lose all control. It was the most amazing thing, especially since she rarely even had one orgasm with her beloved husband. She was panting hard and she rocked and gyrated her hips to give Joseph as much pleasure as possible. She felt him bump into, then push open the annular ring of her cervix again, but this time it felt completely natural, as though it was always supposed to be this way, and she had been missing it all her life. Despite whatever her mental reservations were, her body was operating on its own agenda, which right at the moment was to open her womb to invite fertilization. He pushed deep into her womb one last time and she felt the sudden hot flood of his cum inside her pussy. It felt perfect, she decided, as though this was the way it was meant to be. She would never again ask him to pull before cumming inside her, and he would never offer.

Joseph pulled from her slowly and saw a long strand of his snowy white cum trickle from her pussy which was gaping wide open. He smiled and thought, just like Lisette! That wasn't quite true he thought, if anything this woman was even sexier than Lisette. Although she was outwardly very reserved, she had more potential, more fire inside her in bed. He lay back beside her and she quickly nestled herself against his sweaty body, in the nook of his strong arm. She contentedly sighed and threw her right leg over his strong thigh. Her hand slid across his chest and played lightly over his coal black nipples. Her eyes we closed. Joseph kissed the top of her head, her soft, silky hair tickling his broad sensuous lips. He smiled and continued to think.

Where were things going with this strikingly beautiful American woman? How far could he take things? Looking down at her pale naked body, he knew that he wanted her only for himself, and to do that he had to move the wimpy husband to the periphery of her life, to make him a willing handmaiden just as he had with Pierre, Lisette's broad minded but weak willed and submissive mate. He smiled as he thought what a good little cuckold Pierre had become and what a loving surrogate father to his two black babies. He was confident he could do the same thing with Elizabeth's husband -- what was his name -- Michael or something?

Elizabeth slept comfortably, her head resting lightly on his broad chest. He continued to stroke her dark hair and considered his next moves. Of course it wasn't quite accurate to say he would have her completely to himself. As the third born son of a prominent Nigerian tribal line he would have to share her with his older brothers, just as he had Lisette, on many of their trips back to Africa to show off his white prize. Of course he had made certain Lisette had already been bred by him each time, and she certainly had not minded being shared by him; quite the opposite in fact. When he had explained to her that it would be required by tribal law and by custom, she seemed eager to participate and returned from the beds of his brothers with a broad smile each time. Pierre was a different matter of course. Each morning after, he had seemed a little traumatized, a little more emasculated by what he had been forced to assist in. 

Joseph looked admiringly down at Elizabeth's supine, sleeping form. His free hand reached over to cup one of her small firm breasts and he rolled her long nipple between his strong fingers. She moaned a contented sigh and moved her leg further across his crotch, pressing her wet pussy more tightly against the side of his thigh, humping it in her sleep. Joseph wondered whether perhaps he was already beginning to feel something special, something different for this girl. In some ways, it already felt stronger than the deep affection he shared with Lisette.

Suddenly the thought of having to share her with his older siblings felt repugnant to him, even if it was required. Well, he thought to himself, he would make damned certain she was ripe with a black child by the time they traveled to Nigeria with her little husband in tow. In fact, he thought smiling, it may already have happened. He moved his hand down to the curve of her belly and her lips smacked, kissing someone in her dreams. He closed his eyes, thinking about how they would begin to condition her husband. Together in the still Roman night, the new lovers slept. Elizabeth's pale, delicate form draped lovingly over his muscular coal black body. They were a study in stark contrasts.

7.

The next morning, a grateful Elizabeth decided to wake her new lover with a blow job. She brushed her teeth, quickly wiped off the cum leaking down her thigh, and silently returned to stalk Joseph in her bed. She crept between his legs and began lavishing kisses on his flaccid cock. She tasted the unfamiliar taste of her own juices and his cum, but decided that it was fine, despite the somewhat funky taste. Even more pronounced was the scent from his cock and balls which was incredibly strong, but somehow erotic. She found herself breathing deeply and licking his taint, something she could never imagine doing for her beloved Michael. With Joseph though, she was beginning to feel that nothing was off limits and she wanted to experience everything with this man, even things she would consider disgusting with Michael.

They spent the morning having sex and then went for a lovely midday meal, this time at a friendlier trattoria. They went for a long walk, holding hands and talking intimately about how they were feeling and shared stories of growing up in two very different places. They spent the next day in bed again having sex until afternoon, and then toured the Borghese Gardens.

The next morning, after having again sex (once with Elizabeth on top of Joseph, grinding her hips and ass to urban tracks on Joseph's iPhone), they stopped by the Nigerian embassy. While there, Elizabeth met a very nice consular aide called Anne Harder. She was a curious fixture in this very African place - a blue eyed, blonde English woman and Joseph seemed most anxious that she and Elizabeth get on well. Joseph even suggested Anne and her husband join them for dinner at the Hotel Argentina which she agreed to.

That evening, Elizabeth and Joseph were seated at the bar when a tall black man strode in, leading Anne by the wrist. They got a table in minutes when a shorter white man joined them. The waiter quickly produced an extra chair and the man sat to the other side of Anne, whose attention was clearly focused on her black companion. Joseph introduced the bulky black man as Patrice and the shorter white man as Nigel, Anne's husband. Elizabeth was clearly confused, but came to understand that the threesome apparently had an arrangement like Joseph and the French couple. All through dinner, Elizabeth was amazed at docile and attentive the white man was and how he submissively deferred at any given moment to the tall black man, whether in conversation or in pouring wine for him. Nigel's eyes shone with love and admiration for his wife. Only afterward she noticed that Anne had no wine, drinking only flat water, but paid little attention to the fact otherwise.

After dinner, the threesome departed, leaving Joseph and Elizabeth alone. She watched as Anne and Patrice walked out, he with his arm around her waist and Nigel trailing discreetly behind. Joseph topped up a glass of Chianti for her, and eased into the subject he seemed eager to discuss. "Ahem," he began, "Elizabeth, I need to know something."

She put her hand on top of his, getting a twinge of guilt when she saw her wedding ring catch the candle light for a moment. "Yes, Joseph. What is it? Tell me."

"Elizabeth, I sense by now that we are not just having, what do you call it - a casual 'fling'. I sense from you that there is more to 'us' than just . . ." he didn't complete the sentence. He wanted her to start revealing her feelings. She swallowed hard and squeezed his hand hard.

Suddenly, there were tears in her eyes. "Joseph," she began becoming immediately choked up, "This seems absolutely crazy to me, but I . . . I think I'm beginning to have feelings for you, and they're feelings I can't allow to go on. I love Michael very much and I can't hurt him after all these years together. I have never been more sexually alive, more sexually satisfied than these past few days. I think it's becoming more than that though. I think I am beginning to feel . . . something more than that when I am with you. That . . . that can't go on. I can't let it go on."

With that, she broke into sobbing tears and put her forehead against his strong chest. Joseph smiled to himself, and then stroked her face tenderly. He asked, "But what if, Elizabeth? What if your 'beloved Michael' not only accepted, but approved and encouraged a relationship between you and me? Part of the reason I invited Anne here tonight was so that you could see for yourself how happy she is, and just as importantly how happy her husband is. He told her that when he found out she is carrying a baby by Patrice . . ."




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 02



Elizabeth injected "Whaaa?? His baby?"

Joseph slipped his hand under the hem of her short red dress and continued, "Yes. Patrice has just bred his woman and Nigel is as happy as any man could be. Elizabeth, what if I told you that together, we could condition your Michael so that he would have greater sexual fulfillment than he's ever had. What if I told you that he would be your most enthusiastic supporter; that you and I could be together every night and it would become his fondest wish; that he would happily give you to me? Would you believe me? Would you want it to happen?"

Elizabeth frowned then stammered, "I . . . I don't know. I mean . . I mean, I think I would. Alright, yes damn it. I admit it. I would. But . . . How? How could we . . ."

She sniffled and managed a crooked smile. He responded with coolness, "Don't worry. I will guide you every step of the way. Some of the things you will need to do will seem cruel at first perhaps, but the end justifies the means. We -- and he -- will have what we most deeply wish."

She nodded and smiled in agreement. Then she took a deep breath and said in a timid voice, "Joseph, there is something else. I haven't brought it up because, well, because these last few days have been unbelievable. But . . . well, we haven't been using any . . . protection. I am beginning my fertile time now. What if . . . well, you know."

Joseph was not going to tell her that breeding her was his fondest wish, that in Nigeria, fathering many children was a mark of power, and that he hoped she already carried his spawn in her loins. Instead, he lied and laughing said, "Dear Elizabeth, you have been bred once, surely you know it's harder to 'catch' than most people would care to admit. We will worry about that if and when it ever happens. Besides, never forget that if I do breed you, you will bear the son of an African Prince." Flashing a charming smile, he made a mental note to linger inside her extra-long the next time he came.

She looked in his deep black eyes and he leaned in to kiss her deeply. She felt his tongue invade her mouth and she sucked it with relish. He squeezed her thigh and said simply, "Let us go. Tonight will be special. I promise you will remember it always."

They left arm in arm with Elizabeth gazing at Joseph with complete starry-eyed trust. They walked the narrow back streets to Joseph's large flat, stopping often to kiss or for Joseph to reach under Elizabeth's dress and squeeze her ass. In a dark alley, he ripped her panties apart and tossed them aside. "From now on, you wear nothing under your dress. I want you ready for me to touch as I command."

She was beginning to worship his masterful control and nodded her assent, then said almost playfully, "Very well. As you wish. Is there anything else, my Prince?"

Joseph cupped her pussy in the darkness, and said evenly, "Yes," then squeezing her mons, and rubbing her pussy hair added, "This is mine. Only I, or whomever I permit, shall touch you there, or lay with you. This also applies to your wimp of a husband. Do you understand?"

She frowned and asked archly, "Yes, but how do I keep . . . keep Michael from . . . wanting to 'lay with me' as you put it?" She threw his words back at him almost as a challenge.

Joseph replied, "He may 'want to lay with you' all he wishes, but you must believe me, that in time, we will train him to want other things, different things. When he returns tomorrow, I permit you to service him with your mouth, but soon we will train that need away as well."

Then as they walked, he shared his plan. She listened attentively, asking for clarification on a few points. In time, they reached his flat. He scooped her up in his arms and lay her tenderly on his bed. He carefully pulled her dress off and then slowly undressed himself. There was a fire in his bedroom fireplace and Elizabeth loved the flickering light shining on his Coal black skin. His erection had never looked bigger to her, and she had never wanted to feel it inside her more.

Tenderly, he moved between her legs, which she opened happily. He kissed her lips then worked his way down her body to kiss her swollen pussy lips. He took his time in licking her clit and thrusting his long tongue in and out of her pussy, now pulsing every time he licked her. She stroked the back of his close cropped head repeatedly. After 15 minutes, she trembled and then climaxed with a loud moan. He moved up on her body, and resting on his forearms, he entered her, but not with the furor that defined their previous sex. He moved tenderly, purposefully, making long strokes in her pussy. He circled his hips and ass slowly.

She could feel a difference tonight, and the difference was intense and made her react not only with her body, but her soul as well. Tonight, they were not fucking, they were making love, and both of them knew it. And felt it. When her orgasm came this time, it was incredible; more prolonged and intense than anything she had ever felt. Her body shook forcefully. She knew this was a feeling she would want over and over, and would sacrifice anything for. Moments later, Joseph grunted loudly and flooded her wet pussy with pulsing streams of hot cum. With his final thrust, he pushed hard against the ring of her womb and felt his cock head wedge it open as his last explosive pulse of cum jetted from his dark cock. Elizabeth heard herself cry out, "Oh God, I love you. I love you. I love you."

Carefully, Joseph rolled off Elizabeth, whom he now felt certain was his woman, belonging to him and no one else. They fell into a deep sleep. Elizabeth heard Michael's special ring, on her iPhone, but was too tired and too fulfilled to answer it.

8.

The day started out chilly, but under a bright and glowing Roman sun. Elizabeth, thought the day was just about perfect. She hired a car to pick up her husband who was flying home from Lagos, and she was excited to see him. Although the last two weeks had awakened inside her a woman she could never have known existed, and had lifted her to sensual highs that she would never have dreamed of, she was excited and happy to see her beloved husband. She cherished Michael for so many years of being a faithful husband and a good provider, but at the same time she was even more excited to play her part in the plan Joseph laid out for her. She was not the only player, but certainly had the most intimate role.

She dressed in a mid-length dark brown wool skirt and a luxurious cashmere long sleeve turtleneck top, which was a gift from Joseph. She wore it partly because the day was unseasonably cool, but an even bigger reason was that she needed to hide the numerous hickies and bite marks all over her neck and the tops of her breasts. She would have to talk to Joseph about not leaving marks on her body, and she always intended to. Whenever they in the middle of sex, it excited her so much to have her black lover's mouth sucking her neck and his teeth making little bites that asking him to refrain became the last thing on her mind. She would have to do a little misdirection to make sure he never saw her naked with lights on during the week he would be home.

She would also have to lie and tell her husband it was her "time of the month" in order to lay down strong hints to him that they should do other things than vaginal intercourse while he was home. Partly, this was to honor Joseph's demand that they be exclusive partners, but partly it was to give her battered pussy a few days rest. Joseph was an ardent and talented lover, but he was damned near insatiable, and really huge. He was as her auto mechanic dad might say, "rough on the equipment."

Still, she was completely happy with the situation. Nothing in her entire adult life had ever made her feel this sexy, and after their coupling last night, this much in love or something like love. She wasn't sure exactly what she was feeling, but she knew that last night was much more than sex, and that Joseph was purposely trying to make her fall in love with him. His actions in bed made that very clear, and thinking back on the huge, rippling, near continuous climaxes he kept creating in her, he succeeded. That was why, although she was excited to see Michael, she was equally excited to carry out Joseph's game on her beloved husband. She was now in a state of mind where she loved Michael, but didn't want to go a day without being in Joseph's arms on a night without being in his bed.

She pulled up to the broad sidewalk in front of the airport as soon as she saw Michael's cheery wave and broad smile, she flashed her lights. Michael tossed his bags into the back of the tiny Fiat and slid in beside her. She gave him a long open mouthed kiss, and they only stopped when the driver parked behind them honked and gestured angrily from them to move. They laughed and Elizabeth made a rude sign to him with her middle finger extended. That was something she would never have done only a few weeks ago. She was a different woman now - a more confident woman. That began with her new found confidence in bed, with a man who brought out her wanton side, her inner "hot wife", but it also carried over into every other aspect of her life.

They chatted happily on the long drive from Fiumicino back to their flat in the ancient part of Rome. Elizabeth told Michael she had a jogging partner whom she described as "that black guy we always see running past our place."

She explained that she was afraid to run because of the tough looking black guys who hung out on their street corner, and, noticing her distress, admonished the guys to leave her alone and then offered to run with her, an offer she accepted. She further explained that, one day when she got a leg cramp, he was kind enough to carry her upstairs to their flat, and then massaged her leg to work out the cramp.

Michael replied that he seemed like a really nice fellow, and expressed surprise that Elizabeth had actually become friends with a black person. It didn't seem her style, he said, and reminded her that she always referred to black people back in Indianapolis in generally negative ways. Elizabeth responded, "Oh, but he's different. He was educated in England and he has the most terrific English accent."

Michael frowned and asked, "Well dear, he sounds like a gentleman. Maybe I should be jealous! What's his name by the way?" Elizabeth laughed and replied, "Oh gosh Honey, nothing to be jealous of. Although if the right circumstances happened -- like you deciding to abandon me for some sexy African woman, I might just be tempted! His name is Joseph Acuncumbi, by the way and apparently he is from a very important family in Nigeria."

Michael expressed surprise and asked, "Did you say Acuncumbi? If he's from the family I have been dealing with for mineral rights, he's more than just 'important'. In fact I am dealing with his two brothers right now. I would say that they are the nearest thing to African royalty. The brothers told me their youngest was here in Rome, and I meant to look him up. Show him a good time so that he might put in a good word for me with the 'folks back home' and all. Small world, isn't it?"

Small world indeed, Elizabeth thought. She would have to report this to her lover and consider how it might serve his plan.. Meanwhile, she continued with what Joseph had already laid out. She looked over at her beloved husband and told him, "By the way, I met a very nice woman from one of the embassies. Her name is Anne. She and her husband and lover are the most awesome people. Anne and I have lunch and go shopping ..."

Michael interrupted with a look of incredulity on his face, "Wait," he said, "Run that by me again! Did you say, 'lover'?"

Elizabeth saw his perplexed expression, and explained, "Yes, they have an unconventional, open marriage. According to Anne, she had always been frigid with her husband Nigel, and he's a very powerful controlling man. He had always wanted her to be more of a -- what was the expression she used -- Oh yes, a 'hotwife', so he set her up with this gentleman from the embassy. I think his name was Patrice or something."

Michael frowned, and asked, "Patrice, he sounds like, well you know, a . . .", he hesitated then added as Elizabeth nodded her head to acknowledge that his guess was right, "Unh huh, a Negro then! I mean, really Elizabeth, a Negro? I mean, first I find out you're out jogging with one, then you tell me about this . . . 'arrangement' your new friend has. I mean, my God, what is the world coming to!"

She smiled a secret smile and thought to herself, I've been doing a lot more than just 'jogging with one,' and you're about to find that out if things go according to plan, but of course said nothing of this. The general outline of Joseph's plan was that she and their friends would move him quickly from being a participant at the centre of her sexuality to a being a supportive spectator on the sidelines. She would shift Michael from getting his satisfaction from fucking her to watching her be fucked by a more powerful and skillful lover, while at the same time remaining a faithful and helpful husband to all outward appearance. The place between her thighs grew wet with anticipation.

She pulled into the tight streets of the ancient quarter nearing their flat. She added, "Anyway, you'll have a chance to meet this whole friendly crowd. Joseph wants to treat us to a 'welcome home' dinner tonight at Carrico's near the Spanish Steps -- very posh place. He's been dying to meet you, since I have told him so many wonderful things about you!"

Michael raised his eyebrows, but then shrugged and relaxed against the car's cheap seat as best he could, letting Elizabeth deal with navigating the crazy Roman traffic.

When they arrived on the street fronting their place, Elizabeth somehow shoehorned the little car into the half space available and they lugged his bags upstairs and Elizabeth laid a long, passionate open mouthed kiss on her husband, running her hand over his little penis over his pants. She squeezed his shaft then he heard the sound of his zipper, and felt a quick tug. She pulled his trousers down with one quick motion, and yanked his now erect member from his briefs. Her mouth was quickly on him and he felt the wonderful liquid heat of her tongue and lips as she pumped happily on his shaft. He moaned involuntarily, but as he tried to pull her top off in order to feel her up, she gently but firmly brushed his hand aside.

With a scant five minutes of effort, Michael announced he was about to cum. Elizabeth pulled his modest penis from her lips then directed the two or three little squirts onto her belly. He collapsed back on the bed looking dreamy and fulfilled. His eyes were heavy and he was weary from the long travel from Africa. Elizabeth looked down at him on the bed, and smiled saying, "Darling why don't you just take a nap. I am going to go out for a jog."

She tucked him in and sent Joseph a text message. She ran excitedly over the cobblestone streets and arrived 10 minutes later to leap into her lover's arms. They kissed wetly and he licked the sweat from her neck as he pulled up her loose fitting spandex top and her bra to fix his thick soft lips on her breast, glistening with little beads of sweat. She ground her crotch into his. The silky material of her running shorts was now growing damp between her trim legs. Now Joseph leaned into her, his head bent to tease one of her long nipples between his teeth. She repeatedly kissed and stroked his soft wooly head. As he bent to suck the other nipple, a sharp thrill ran through her already aroused body. The combination of cool air playing over her exposed breast -- left wet from Joseph's sucking -- and his hot mouth and sensuous lips on the other one triggered a throbbing need in her already lubricated pussy. Her breasts had always been key to her arousal and Joseph understood how to work them like a virtuoso, displaying a talent her dear Michael could never hope to approach.

Joseph raised his head to kiss her hotly, and she began to dry hump him wildly, mindlessly, with complete abandon, like a bitch dog in heat. She could feel the strength and supple muscularity of his huge cock hot against her pussy, sheathed only by the sheer running shorts. Suddenly she cried out, "I love you, Oh God help me, I love you." Breathing heavily, and continuing to hump his cock as if possessed, she came hard. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and she sobbed convulsively, resting her head against his muscular chest. She was dwarfed by his size but felt secure in his strength as he held her up and lifted her chin.

"What's wrong, my little white princess?" he asked with concern. She dried her tears with one hand but held him tight with the other. "Joseph," she said through sobs, "I - I - never meant to fall in love with you. And now I think I have. What the hell can I do? I can't imagine what my family would think. . . This just can't . . ." Her voice trailed off as she asked herself how this happened. How could she have fallen achingly, intensely in love with someone she would never have even looked at back home in Indiana? And now, here she was -- something she would never have imagined in a million years -- a black man's woman. What was worse, she didn't want anything else; didn't want to BE anything else.

Joseph could almost feel the changed dynamic in their young relationship now. Her desperate need for him was obvious from the way her hips had been humping his cock. He was in control now, and things would be different from now on. Elizabeth was still turned on though she had just cum. The funky scent of her black lover's arousal made her mouth water. She hungered to have his cock in her mouth, to taste him, and to give him satisfaction. Feeling him cum in her mouth and bringing him ecstasy suddenly became the most important thing in her life. She slid to her knees and began tugging his trousers down. His dark cock sprang free and she quickly grasped it and rubbed it over her cheek and guided his glans over her still-exposed breasts. She hiked up her bra further to be able to feel more of his cock against her skin. As she moved her head and opened her mouth to take him in, Joseph pulled away abruptly, saying, "Elizabeth, what do you want?'

She looked up into his eyes, and answered quietly, "I want you . . . I want to taste you. I want . . ."

Joseph looked down at her sternly, "Say it, Elizabeth. Tell me what you want in your mouth. Tell me you want my black cock," then he added, "And say please."

Elizabeth was desperate for his cock; she was desperate for its taste and its feel, and most of all to taste his thick creamy cum in her belly. She kissed the tip, and looked at him with new respect, said seriously, "Oh God, I do. I do want your black cock so bad. In my mouth, on my body, inside me. I want to feel your black skin on my white body so bad. Please . . . Please may I suck your cock?"

Joseph smiled at her and answered, "Yes you may. Take my cock, woman. You are mine now, do you understand? Your body belongs to me. All of you. . . You are mine."

She nodded her head respectfully, pulled back his foreskin and lavished her mouth on his shaft. His scent which she had initially found almost overwhelming and even repulsive was now simply intoxicating. As she moved her head back and forth over his cock, she rubbed her clit. In minutes, he came heavily. His creamy cum filled her mouth and splashed on her face.

9.

They slept cozily into the late afternoon sun Elizabeth with her free arm thrown across Joseph's solid torso. She awoke with a start as the slanting early evening rays of the sun pried her eyes open.. As she cleared the sleep from her eyes, a sudden glance at her running watch sent her into a sudden panic. She jumped up from the soft bed and began tugging on her panties and slipping her arms through her bra straps. As she fumbled with the eyelet closure, Joseph woke with a long yawn and rubbed the sleep from his eyes as well.




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 02



He reached out a long arm and with his supple fingers yanked on the elastic of Elizabeth's panties, pulling her back on top of him. As she tumbled clumsily onto the bed, her petite breasts spilled from the bra cups. In an instant, her black lover's thick soft lips and one hand surrounded her nipple and his other hand insistently pulled against her french cut panties which promptly ripped at the hip seam. He pulled hard on the torn material, yanking them down to her mid-thigh. She did not move to assist him, but she didn't resist either.

She moaned as both her nipples stiffened in excitement. She stroked his head and held it close as he continued to suck. Her breasts seemed exceptionally tender, whether from the constant rough sex or something else, she couldn't tell. Still, she felt the aching need to have his mouth on her body, raising her level of sexual tension. Her pale hands played across his back, lazily running up and down his supple muscles and soft, sensuous black skin. Slowly she gave in to her desire, sliding onto the bed next to him.

As Joseph moved between her open legs, she slid the torn remnant of her panties from her leg and kicked them away with a flick of her ankle. She pulled her bra away and it joined the torn panties on the floor. She reached up to welcome him, and said softly, "Please, come be inside me. I belong to you. Take me. Take me."

She felt her vaginal lips stretched wide as he entered her with a single thrust. She was growing to enjoy the sudden pain of penetration by his swollen member and the friction of his wide head as it parted her. the pain was quickly supplanted by a series of tingles rippling through her vaginal walls as his head plopped into her cunt. He began to thrust deeply and now her pussy muscles, lubricated by copious pre-cum from his cock, began to moisten as well and she was quickly transported into continuous, mindless sexual bliss, a state that was coming to define every coupling with the black African lying on top of her. Her body responded to his on its own, matching his every thrust with one of her own. Every time he pushed deep into her, stretching his cock and her pussy, her hips pushed up to meet him.

After a vigorous five minutes of fucking, their bodies began to drip sweat, with Joseph's pheromone laden droplets coating Elizabeth's skin. This along with the rhythmic massage of her clit and pussy walls multiplied her pleasure so that her sexual tension and need was almost unbearable. With no warning whatever, her tits stiffened; her tummy tightened; and the shockwave of a powerful climax rippled through her entire body. Seconds later when she regained some cognition, she looked down between her breasts and saw Joseph's cock sliding in and out of her and could hardly believe how much her own cum had coated his powerful cock. It glistened like wet onyx as it alternately disappeared and withdrew from her pussy lips.

Her arms were wound around Joseph's strong, sinewy neck as he nibbled the tender skin of her neck, leaving new marks of ownership and deepening the previous ones. She moaned in contentment as she slid her hands down his sweaty back and then found his hips. She pulled him tightly into her pussy, squeezing his cock lovingly with her vaginal muscles. His pre-cum had again softened the opening to her cervix and her squeezing forced his cock head forward into the very core of her womanhood.

For the briefest second, she thought both about the lateness of the hour and her vulnerability. She was now at her most fertile time of the month, and a part of her wanted to mouth the protest, "Please don't cum in me," but all that emerged from her lips was, "Please don't . . . "

Never pausing from his needful thrusting, Joseph whispered the question, "Please don't . . . What?"

Caught up in the joy of the moment and her need to continue feeling the friction of his cock skin sliding in her pussy, Elizabeth hiked up her hips, wrapped her legs around his waist, and whispered "Please don't stop. Oh don't stop."

That was enough to drive Joseph over the edge as his body erupted into a tumultuous orgasm. He stroked hard and deep and Elizabeth, unable to form words merely cried out, "Unhh. . . Unngh . . Oh. . . Ohhh . . . Ohhh", in a series of high pitched gasps and screams.

Joseph could feel her womb pulsate, squeezing the cum from his cock as stream after stream of his thick cum jetted into her cervix. This was of course an involuntary reaction as her female biology took control, welcoming his powerful sperm. Most of it would be absorbed by her body, becoming part of her; redefining the way her own pheromones would signal other men of her preferences and desires; and reshaping the scent she would begin to give off, especially to other black men.

In the weeks and months to come, she would begin to notice that she was catching long glances or intense stares from black men without knowing why, and that she would in turn smile at them without even thinking about it. Just passing a black man in the street seemed to be enough to trigger the inexplicable reaction, as though some secret code, some hidden conversation was occurring without her having said a word. All she would know was that something was different and that she would get a little tingle when black men looked at her. For the moment though, she was content with just one black man.

Her small hands slid up and down his glistening flanks as he French kissed her and ground his hips into hers, making sure he stayed in her womb as deep and as long as possible. In response, her hand found his ass and she squeezed it hard as if to reassure him that his cock and his sperm were welcome in her womb as long as he desired to be there. 

They slowly parted and Joseph lay beside her on the bed. After a few moments, she headed for the Roman tiled shower to wash off the rank odor of their sex and to douche out as much of his sperm as possible. He pulled her back into the bedroom by her arm and told her that it was getting late and that she should be getting home to dress for dinner. He reminded her that she, Michael, Patrice, Anne and Nigel were a part of his planned nine o'clock dinner party. She replied that she needed to shower, or else Michael would be able to detect the powerful stench of their fucking as soon as she came into the room.

He laughed heartily, and said, "So much the better. Elizabeth, you need to begin his conditioning as soon as possible, in just the way we discussed. In my country, we have a saying, 'hang a lantern on that which you desire to become obvious'. Woman, as soon as you get home, strip for him then invite him between your legs with his mouth. I give my permission for this. Let him taste the sperm of an African Prince inside you and let him begin to rejoice in it.

His married lover shook her head in mock disgust, all the while wondering whether she could possibly pull that off. She quickly yanked her top on over her sweat-matted hair. She couldn't locate her bra, and on finding her panties, remembered how they had been torn from her, so she simply tossed them into the trash and pulled her sheer shorts over her hips.

10.

Elizabeth jogged home at a slow pace, her mind full of questions. She wondered if it would even be possible to talk Michael into taking a subservient position in their relationship and whether she could have it all -- the constant thrill and sexual highs of being in Joseph's bed as well as the financial security, friendship and sensitivity of her marriage to Michael. She arrived at their flat too soon to have come to any sort of conclusion, but the sudden thought of Michael and his inferiority to Joseph in so many ways steeled her resolve.

Michael was reading an article on the computer screen, and she advanced over to him. He turned to look at her and noticed instantly both her scent and her disheveled look. He wanted to ask her why she looked so defiled and smelled so rank. but promptly forgot as she bent down to kiss him deeply and squeeze his penis. She broke off the kiss after several seconds, and he looked at her longingly. He noticed that her breasts were hanging down in her loosely fitting top, and that she had no bra on, but it barely registered. He had been celibate for her for so long that his little member was doing all the thinking for him now.

She stood back, wiped her forehead and shucked her running togs off, leaving them in a heap on the floor. Michael noticed the numerous bruises on her skin and, frowning asked her, "Honey, what in the world . . .?"

She took his hand, led him over to the bed, and laughed a little then explained that the taxi she had ridden home in a couple days before had been in a car wreck and the airbag deployed. It was nothing to worry about, she explained, then pushing him down on the bed struck a sexy pose, 'hanging a lantern' on the way she looked.

His legs hung over the bed and she parted them, inviting him to pull his trousers and white Y-front briefs off. He quickly complied, showing her his hard little dick and waggling his hips suggestively. She moved to her knees in between his legs and began to lavish her tongue over his member, arousing him quickly to a painful stiffness.

She stopped licking then looked up innocently into his face and asked, "Does that feel nice, baby?"

She opened her mouth and took his shaft completely inside, deep throating him in a way she never would have been able to do before Joseph. He ran his hands through her thick hair and moaned, "Oh yes. God yes. Yes, Elizabeth."

She tasted his pre-cum, and found it a little disgusting. Without really thinking about it, her subconscious mind was comparing him to the magnificent African whose bed she had left less than an hour ago. She could feel Michael's ball tightening and heard him tell her he was ready to cum. He expected her to pull her mouth from him, but instead, she sucked harder and was rewarded with little spurts from him as he collapsed in ecstasy.

She quickly rose to lay beside him on the bed and leaned over to kiss him deeply, pushing his cum back into his waiting mouth. At first he resisted, trying to disentangle his mouth from hers, but then gave in to her insistent lips and tongue. When he had swallowed his own cum, Elizabeth broke off the kiss, and whispered, "What's wrong darling, don't you want to know how good you taste to me?"

He began to protest, saying, "I . . . Uh. . . Umm, yes. I guess so."

His wife scooted up the bed, opened her legs and looking down at her own pussy suggestively, said, "Now, lover, you can do something for me. See how wet I am for you? See how much I need your kisses there?"

Dutifully, Michael climbed between her legs and began kissing her belly. The strong scent of her, mingled with Joseph's powerful masculine sweat caused him to pull his head back in revulsion, but Elizabeth tugged on his shoulders, and pushed his head right down to her mound. He had tasted his wife before, and it usually delighted him. This time was no different, but there was something strange, something foreign, something profoundly different about her tonight. He couldn't identify it and at first it repelled him acutely.

Elizabeth refused to let him up though, and held his head on her mons, and urged him on saying, "That's it big boy. Get that tongue right up in my cunt. Lick it deep. Lick that cunt. Taste me baby. Taste all my juices. Deeper baby, deeper."

In part, she was following a script on how to condition him from both Joseph and from her friend Anne, but in part she was taking this new dominant facet of her nature out for a 'test drive', seeing how it fit her. She decided that at least for the moment, she liked it.

And so apparently did Michael, who was licking and probing her so deeply that his nose was pressed tight against her clit and the soft muff of her pussy hair, still matted with Joseph's cum. In addition, both her language and her excitement were unfamiliar to him. She never talked like that to him, but this time everything was different -- the taste, the feel of her pussy, her words -- and it excited him incredibly and made him want to please her even more. As the combined juices of her lover and her own cum flooded into his mouth and down his throat, he became hard again, something that almost never happened after he had cum.

Elizabeth moaned and bucked her hips. Her tits stood out proudly and her aureoles wrinkled and darkened as the blood rushed to them. She lovingly stroked Michael's hair and decided to go further, trying out something Anne had told her always worked on her cuckold husband. She whispered, "Oh yes, baby. Be my bitch. Fuck me with that sweet tongue of yours. Shove it right up in my cunt, bitch. You like being my bitch, don't you?"

having heard no reply, she pulled back hard on his hair, causing him to stop licking her and at the same time to look into her eyes. He pulled forward against her grip. but she still had a tight hold on his scalp. She asked again, "You like being my bitch?"

Michael was both confused and intensely turned on. Something in the way she acted tonight, in the way she tasted, in the ways she looked at him had him tingling all over. Assuming that this was some new, inventive sex play, He replied simply, "Yes."

Elizabeth yanked on his hair again, and said sternly, "Yes, what?"

Michael squeezed his legs tightly together without understanding why, and replied in a meek tone, "Yes, I like being your bitch." He lowered his eyes in embarrassment. Elizabeth smiled a secret smile, thinking that this seemed to be falling into place just as Anne and Joseph and explained it would.

She looked at him both pitifully and lovingly, and said, "Good. Now get back to business, and make me cum bitch." She released his hair and he enthusiastically returned to her red and gaping pussy. After several minutes of continued licking her clit and pushing his tongue deep in her vagina, she came with a loud scream. Moments later, pulling on his own little dick, Michael came on the wooden floor.

After wiping his cum from the floor, he laid beside her trying to evaluate what had just happened, but had little time to reflect. Elizabeth announced suddenly that they were going to a welcome home dinner for him hosted by their new friend Joseph Acuncumbi. Although a bit puzzled, Michael complied. They showered separately and when Elizabeth dried her hair and came into the bedroom he was dazzled by the low cut red dress and matching high heels and her perfume. Michael decided that something about Rome was having a rather dramatic effect on his wife, whom he had come to take for granted in recent years, but who now seemed to be a woman suddenly transformed to a new and stunning sexuality. Suddenly, he wanted her all to himself and felt annoyed that she had made this dinner arrangement without his consent.

Nonetheless, 15 minutes later they were in a chauffeured Mercedes, heading toward the Via Corse. Michael sat on one side of the muscular black man whom his wife introduced as Joseph, and Elizabeth sat on the other. Michael found the seating arrangement, with their host in the middle and them on either side of him exceptionally curious, and even stranger that their situation was mirrored on the facing seat where the black man introduced as Patrice sat between an obviously pregnant blonde woman and a meek looking man with thinning hair who mumbled something about his name being Nigel.

Although a bit intimidated, Michael curiously began to feel comfortable in Joseph's presence and even he knew Joseph in some familiar way. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he had just licked a hundred or so milliliters of Joseph's potent cum from his wife's pussy and was now under the influence of Joseph's powerful pheromones.

Perhaps it was the family resemblance to Joseph's brothers he met in Nigeria -- Mustafa, the head of the family, and a heavy older brother Henry, just arrived from America with a beautiful pregnant redhead in tow. Whatever the reason, even when Joseph repeatedly rested his hand on Elizabeth's exposed thigh during a witty exchange, he didn't feel anger although he probably should have. At one point in the journey, Joseph told Michael a funny story about his fat brother Hank, and they both laughed even though Michael nervously looked on as one of Joseph's large hands glided softly up and down Elizabeth's pale thigh. Michael thought it very curious that Elizabeth did appear embarrassed or angry in the least about this.

In ten more minutes, they arrived at the ristorante. Elizabeth hopped out the door opened by the chauffeur, and quickly took Joseph's offered arm. Anne did likewise for Patrice, leaving Nigel and Michael trailing behind like servants.



Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 03



11.

The ristorante was elegant in its simplicity in the way that many Roman restaurants can be, and managed to convey its high class status with the attentiveness of its wait staff rather than lots of ornate fixtures. The group of six had been pampered by a helpful sommelier since being seated and as a result, all of the diners had a nice buzz going and there was much laughter and chatter all around. Only Anne and Joseph refrained from alcohol. It did not escape Michael's notice that occasionally Joseph's dark hand would casually rest on Elizabeth's sleek thigh, or that Joseph would turn to Elizabeth, lift her hair and lean close to whisper something in her ear.

Michael was extremely uncomfortable at first but noticed the overly familiar, almost possessive way Patrice treated Anne, sitting across from him. He thought that perhaps it was simply the social norm for Nigerians to be gregarious and fun loving. In fact, he had been to parties with Joseph's brothers which had been by his standards a little on the wild side, so tonight seemed restrained by comparison. 

Across the table from them, Patrice whispered something to Anne, and she ran her hand gracefully across his chest and nodded her head in agreement. She spoke up saying, "Nigel, Patrice and I are going to dance." It was a statement rather than a request for permission.

Nigel looked at them and replied quickly, "Of course! Nothing would please me more."

The restaurant was exceptional, almost unique by Roman standards, in that it had a dance area courtesy of a mid 1980's expansion into an adjacent bar which had fallen on hard times after the collapse of disco. They were seated adjacent to tiny dance floor where tightly packed couples rocked out to a small combo covering current hits. As Patrice and Anne danced vigorously, Michael found himself unable to tear his gaze from them. Inexplicably, his face flushed and he had all the signs of sexual arousal, including a sudden erection. He became painfully aware of this, and felt annoyed with himself. Elizabeth rose from her seat next to Joseph and walked to stand directly behind her husband. She leaned over and kissed his cheek tenderly and whispered in his ear, "Darling, why don't you ask Joseph if he'd like to dance with me? He is all alone in a strange country and doesn't really know anyone outside the diplomatic corps here. Besides, as you pointed out, it might be good if he had nice things to say about you to his brothers back in Nigeria."

She excused herself to go to the ladies lavatory, and Michael leaned over to Joseph, speaking loudly so he could be heard over the rendition of "Proud Mary", just reaching its high volume crescendo. "Are you enjoying your time here on Italy, then Joseph?" he asked.

Joseph looked at him and arching an eyebrow, replied, "Well, I must admit I encounter rather more racial enmity than I expected. In fact, you and your lovely wife are amongst the few whites I have met here who didn't look at me with veiled distaste -- and sometime not so veiled! I am thinking of leaving here and recommending to my family back home that we should sign oil lease and mineral rights agreements with China rather than western companies.

Michael reacted with genuine concern, saying, "I am so sorry to hear that. Please don't assume we are all like that. May I add that I am very appreciative of your friendship with my wife. She speaks glowingly of you and has said that she really enjoys jogging with you."

Joseph smiled to himself thinking, that's not all she enjoys, as you may soon learn. Instead he spoke appreciatively of his new friendship with Elizabeth, whom they both could see wending her way back to the table. She leaned over and kissed Michael then handed him something and whispered, "Darling, my panties ripped somehow. Can you just stuff them somewhere without being conspicuous? Be a dear."

Michael reddened with embarrassment, but recovered shoving them in his inside coat pocket, then nodded his head, and whispered, "Liz darling, it just occurred to me how much you like to dance and what a terrible dancer I am. Perhaps Joseph would like to dance?"

Elizabeth raised a brow, and Joseph nodded his assent, then rose quickly from his seat. In a moment, they were off, making their way through the throng. When a fast number started, some of the dancers departed the floor, leaving Michael and Nigel with a clear view of their black dinner companions and their wives. Michael and Nigel continued to nurse their glasses of wine without conversation. They both admired their wives and their grace and energy with their dark dance partners. When another slow number started, Nigel leaned over to Michael and said smiling, "God, don't our wives look spectacular with their black lovers! Have they treated you to watching them in bed yet?"

Michael's eye popped open wide and his jaw dropped. He hardly knew how to respond to such a provocative and unexpected comment. He blurted out, "Lover? Lover? What the fuck did you . . .? I mean, Uhhh. My Elizabeth would never be interested in something like that. What the hell are you talking about?"

Nigel patted him on the wrist reassuringly, "Calm down old man. I'm sorry for offending you! I thought you knew of our situation and just rather assumed you were doing the same thing with Joseph. Really, you must admit they look incredibly sexy together out there. Just look at the way Joseph is holding your wife. Why, it's as though they truly are lovers. Look at his dark skin against her paleness. Honestly, look the way his hands move over her body."

Michael looked more intently at his wife and the powerfully built Joseph, having had his attention called to them. The Alto sax player held the last notes of the song, "Meglio Stasera: It Had Better Be Tonight," and as he did, he saw Joseph dip Elizabeth, one hand supporting her back and the other firmly cupping her buttock.

The contrast between their skin colors was especially striking since Elizabeth's dress was backless and her alabaster skin seemed almost luminescent on the dance floor. When Joseph assisted her back to a standing position, his hand slid down her back and was stopped only when it caught in the material an inch above the swell of her petite derriere. Michael found himself unaccountably aroused by this and his dick even twitched spasmodically, depositing a little squirt of precum on his Y-fronts.

Another energetic ballroom-style number started, and the two couples began whirling around again. As Patrice and Anne danced, they came quite close to the table where the husbands were sitting. Her short dress twirled enough for Michael to see a curious tattoo high up on Anne's right thigh. It depicted a large, upward pointing symbol, a spade such as one might see on a card deck. The spade was solid black with a capital letter "Q" left open in the middle. Michael stared at it several seconds, just to make sure, as the couple danced close to the table.

When they moved away, Nigel saw Michael continue to stare. He piped up saying, "I see you looking at Anne's "Queen of Spades" ink. Striking isn't it? It means what you might imagine it means -- she is announcing to the world, and especially black men that she is a hot wife, and accepts black men only inside her. Can you honestly sit here and say you wouldn't like to see your Elizabeth carrying one of her own some day?"

Michael blurted out, "Hey, look! What . . I mean, what the hell are you saying. I ought to punch your lights out. This is ridiculous. I told you Elizabeth would never go for something like that, even if I wanted it, which I do not! In the first place, she's hardly sexual at all. I mean . . . Well, she is practically frigid in bed. I hardly ever make her . . . "

Realizing he had revealed too much information, he quickly bit off his words and fell silent. Nigel rushed right into the conversational gap, exclaiming, "Dear boy, that's all the more reason to encourage Elizabeth to become sexual with your black friend there. I guarantee she won't be frigid after a few nights with him. In fact, she will be just the kind of hot wife my Anne is. Believe me, we started out just the same way and now look at her. It's the most exciting thing a husband can witness. Think of this simply as a most erotic way to improve your marriage."

12.

The air in the club grew sultry. Nigel had waited for a few minutes, changing the conversation current. He was letting his words sink in. After a few more minutes, he turned to Michael conspiratorially and whispered, "You know old chap, I saw the way you were looking at our young Nigerian with his hands all over your wife. Your tongue was practically hanging out. Admit it, you're at least thinking a little about seeing that little wife of yours with a strong black bull between her legs!"

Michael swallowed hard, and nodded slightly, the added, "Well, even if I was thinking that -- and I wasn't -- even if I was, how would I . . . you know . . . How would that happen?"

Nigel secretly smiled at his new companion. He could see that there was a glimmer genuine interest there. He said again in a conspiratorial tone, "Why don't we meet for coffee tomorrow morning and I will help guide you through the steps. I will be happy to work with you to make your fantasy a reality. In the meantime, here's something to pique your interest. I promise, your manhood will be rock hard after seeing it."

Nigel quickly scrawled out a web URL on his business card and gave it to Michael, then added, "The password is 'cuckboy', can you remember that?" Michael nodded and absent-mindedly stuffed the card into his back pocket.

Looking across to the dance floor, Nigel caught the eye of a suddenly attentive Joseph who in turn whispered something to Elizabeth. She glanced at her husband with a look combining equal measures of puzzlement, disappointment, and even a little disgust. She suspected of course what had been going on, and what the husbands had been discussing. She didn't think Michael would be easy to manipulate, and she had very mixed feelings about the possibility in any event.

She loved her husband deeply and the sudden thought occurred to her that the whirlwind nature of her yielding to Joseph was all happening too fast and represented a clear danger to her marriage. In particular, she frowned slightly as she thought of the number of times Joseph had already finished inside her despite her initial insistence that he use protection. She grimaced as she considered that she might already be in a difficult situation in a foreign country where there were really no options. She was deeply conflicted and suddenly wanted to cut short the evening. 

As they returned to the table, Elizabeth fanned her face, but Joseph took her hand and continued to hold it as though her husband was non-existent. Only when they were seated did Elizabeth forcefully break the contact. Michael noticed this and smiled a drunken little smile at his wife, who was now looking darts at him. She cooled off a bit when the conversation turned to how much fun the dancing had been, and how loud the dance floor had become. Joseph controlled most of the conversation and after several more minutes of amusing banter spread his hands and offered, "Well, my friends. The hour grows late and we all have much to do in the morning, I am sure. Shall I call for the Chauffeur?"

Amidst weak protests, they all eventually agreed that although the night had been fun, perhaps it was time after all. The wait staff were pleased, for although they knew they would be getting huge gratuities from the free spending black man, it was after all 2 A.M.

As they emerged from the restaurant, Michael still felt a mixture of a slightly drunken haze and sexual tension. The haze was certainly the effect of too much grain and the lingering effect of hearing Nigel's explanation of the hypersexual relationship in his cuckold marriage and the suggestion that Michael could have the same thing if only he could persuade Elizabeth. His heart raced as he considered an image of his wife, with her legs spread open for their host of this evening. At the same time, he too was conflicted. On the one hand, the prospect -- however remote -- of Elizabeth becoming what Nigel had described as a "hotwife" was deeply erotic. It made his member stiffen against his briefs and twitch persistently. Against this was the thought that Elizabeth could never be persuaded to participate in such an arrangement.

He could feel that the night had grown cold, cold enough for him to see his breath in the street lamp they walked under. Ahead of him on the steep stairway to the street, he saw Patrice and Anne and could not help but notice they walked so close together that their breath actually mingled and merged into a single mist in the post-midnight darkness. He wondered again for a moment whether that could ever be a vision of what might be possible with his wife, but as excited as the thought made him, dismissed the idea, knowing deep inside that she would never be open to it.

Still, he thought idly as they filed into the Mercedes limo, if perhaps he could encourage things in just the right way as Nigel had proposed -- a little word here, a little suggestion there -- he might be able to sway her to at least flirt with the tall Nigerian who had already reached the street level and was holding the door open for the entourage. The sudden thought of this made him tingle inside.

Once in the car, the warmth made Michael feel cozy and a bit drowsy. Across from them, Patrice and Anne were whispering. Within moments, they were kissing deeply, his wide lips covering hers in an open mouthed kiss. Every time they passed a street lamp on the Via del Tritone, he caught a long glimpse of the couple and Nigel looking on. This time, Patrice's hand squeezing Anne's breast; the next, Patrice kissing her exposed neck, her head at an angle; and the next, Anne squeezing what was obviously his large erect cock snaking down his trouser leg.

As the limo was alternately bathed in bright illumination from the traffic lamps and deep shadow traveling between them, the car interior became a series of moving snapshots that made Michael swallow hard and his heart race. When they finally arrived at the Via del Corso, the trio alighted. Patrice gave a hearty handshake to his host and kissed Elizabeth on the lips. After the door closed the remaining trio rearranged themselves, with Elizabeth now sitting in the place just vacated and Joseph facing them.

He smiled and said softly, "It was a lovely evening. Thank you for allowing me to host you and enjoy your company. Mrs. Perry, I truly enjoyed dancing with you very much."

Seconds later, Joseph's iPhone rang. He looked at the caller's ID, and then said, "It's Patrice. One wonders what the man wants?"

He began chatting in an African dialect, which Michael thought he recognized as Ijo, but understood not at all. Joseph seemed very focused on the conversation, so Michael turned to Elizabeth, and whispered quietly, "Darling, I want you to do something for me. Can you without asking why?"

Even in the dark, he could sense her frowning in puzzlement. "Uhhh. Ok. I suppose so. What's this favor?"

Michael licked his lips and leaned close. "When our host finishes his call, I would like you to switch seat and sit beside him. Then tell him how much we enjoyed the evening and give him an appreciative kiss -- a very appreciative kiss if you see what I mean. Can you do that? I want him to have a favorable impression of us. It would help enormously to cement my dealings with his family. I know it's asking a lot, but . . ."

He was sweating profusely now despite the coolness of the evening. If Elizabeth went for this, then perhaps she could be persuaded to do other, even bolder things.

Elizabeth frowned. This was rather a strange and unexpected surprise. She voiced her objection, insisting, "Michael Allen Perry, are you crazy?" She gripped his sweaty palm and continued, "Are you sure you want me to do this? What if he wants something more than a kiss? What if he touched me or got the wrong idea?"

Michael tried to clear his head to respond, and started to say something but then simply shrugged his shoulders. The Nigerian Prince finished his call, then explained in an even voice that Anne seemed to be having labor pains, and laughed that Patrice was probably over-reacting as this was his first breeding.

13.

Now, on hearing this frank description delivered in such a cavalier manner, Michael's jaw involuntary dropped and he was speechless. It suddenly hit him that his wife was definitely still fertile and perhaps encouraging her to become flirtatious with this virile looking Nigerian was the last thing he should be encouraging. He felt Elizabeth preparing to move from her position beside him to the opposite seat. Suddenly clear headed, he reached for her arm to restrain her, but too late as with one fluid motion, she was nestled thigh against thigh with their host.

Elizabeth patted Joseph's thigh lightly and looked steadily into his deep brown eyes. She smiled and spoke loudly enough for both men to hear over the steady thrum of the engine, "Your Highness, both my husband and I want to thank you for this wonderful evening. I can't remember the last time I danced so much and had so much fun! Michael wanted me to express our appreciation in some way, and well, please don't think me too forward, but . . . well, this was Michael's idea . . ." Her voice trailed off and as the limo came to a stop at a traffic light, she reached over, turned Joseph's face toward hers and to Michael's astonishment, she offered him her lips which were slightly parted. Joseph broke the kiss momentarily, then looking deep into her eyes kissed her more forcefully.

Michael swallowed hard and felt his member stiffen, then pulse, leaking precum into his briefs. He watched as his wife's mouth opened and in the garish light he could see her sucking Joseph's thick tongue. The light changed and the big Mercedes pulled away quickly. Joseph grabbed Elizabeth's slender arms, ostensibly to steady her and it doing so pulled her close again. As the African prince's dark hands slid up and down Elizabeth's pale, slender arms Michael's heart began to race and he found it hard to swallow.

Although she had needed no coaxing to deep kiss Joseph, Elizabeth felt a sudden chill run up her spine and a wrenching nausea as she looked over to see Michael's eyes drill into her. A message, unspoken but shared by their 18 years together was being delivered. The realization that her marriage could be in serious peril, and her whole way of life could be in jeopardy made her grow rigid with fear. Despite the incredible sexual blossoming she had experienced with Joseph, her heart was filled with remorse, her mind overwhelmed with doubt.

Her unconscious brain was doing an instant calculation, asking herself whether anything -- no matter how wonderful it had felt in the moment -- could be worth losing her husband, or her respectable position in her community back in Indiana, or perhaps even the love of her family and their daughter. She shook her head unseen in the limo's dark interior, but the decision had been made for her. She wanted no part of this, nothing more to do with the prince or his manipulation of her man and her marriage.

Despite this, their host had no sense anything had changed. Joseph turned toward Michael, smiled and said softly, "It is very generous of you to share your wonderful wife. As you perhaps know from your many visits to my homeland, it is considered a gracious gift to acknowledge a superior member of the tribe by gifting him with your woman. I must say it is unexpected from a westerner, but I am honored by your generosity."

At this Michael's eyes widened to the size of saucers, and his jaw dropped open. He stuttered as he tried to find words. 




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 03



For a moment all he could say was, "Uhhh . . . Uhhh . . . Uhhh . . .," then was able to manage, "I . . . I umm think there has been a mis--"

Before he could finish, Joseph turned back to Elizabeth, lifted her chin, smiled engagingly and said, "What about this? Are you agreeable?"

Seeing the conflict in her husband's face, Elizabeth was now genuinely flustered, and given her internal conflict and changing state of mind, lowered her face and mumbled, "Your Highness, I think what my husband is trying to say is that such a thing is very foreign for us and would be something we would have to consider very carefully. We both appreciate your generosity and your friendship, but perhaps he didn't mean to suggest quite what you have in mind."

Joseph frowned, and when he moved to kiss her lips again, she turned her face from him and he wound up pecking her cheek. The limo's cabin grew awkwardly silent Looking across the small cavern at Michael, he asked earnestly, "Tell me Michael, you didn't mean the friendly gift of your woman? Did I misunderstand?"

Michael cleared his throat and managed to say in a cracking voice, "Well, I uhh, think. . . umm as Elizabeth said, this is something completely foreign to us, and well, it's something we have to talk about before . . . Umm, before things -- you know . . ."

He decided simply to say nothing else as he could scarcely believe he had just suggested, even remotely that the idea of sharing his wife was something that might be possible.

His voice trailed off and he couldn't meet Elizabeth's hot disapproving gaze, which he sensed rather than saw. He closed his eyes, suddenly aware of the fact that he was feeling a bit too drunk and not completely in control of either his emotions. For a fraction of a second, a vision of his wife, naked and writhing in reaction to the muscular black man still holding her arms. Squeezing his eyes shut, he dismissed the image, but not before feeling a tension in his loins. He hated himself for thinking of his wife in such an explicitly sexual way and clenched his jaw tightly. 

Joseph defused the situation by smiling broadly and laughing. He patted Michael on the knee and shaking his head exclaimed, "Come my friends, let us not talk of this any further tonight. Certainly, things will work themselves out. Michael, forgive me for mistaking your intent. I felt that you were indicating you wanted the best for your wife and were simply tending your marital garden."

Michael looked puzzled as he tried to absorb what had been said. He rubbed his temples and asked, "Tending our . . . What did you mean?" 

Joseph released his grip on Michael's leg and leaned back, spreading his arms wide over the seat back. His hand slid down to cup Elizabeth's opposite shoulder, massaging her with a familiarity that suddenly annoyed Michael and which Elizabeth tried unsuccessfully to shrug off. The prince pressed on regardless, maintaining the need to steer the conversation toward his purpose. "My friend," he began, "I have upset you. Anyone can see that you have a wonderful relationship full of shared interests and mutual regard, am I right?"

Michael nodded his head and indicated that the prince was correct. He started to speak but before he could Joseph continued, "And yet . . . and yet you know some things are missing in your relationship. You sense it don't you? Have you for example, felt that you are not as complete a lover as your wife deserves?"

Michael swallowed hard; a tear formed at the corner of one eye, he found he could not speak and instead simply sighed, his chest suddenly heaving in sadness.

"Friend Michael, you perhaps have seen enough of the way my brothers rule and how domestic life works in the region of Nigeria and Cameroon we control?"

The limo stopped sharply, pulling up in front of their flat. The street was dark, illuminated only by the tiny twinkling lights in front of the bistro across the narrow alley that served at their front door. Elizabeth could see in the flickering lights that tears were genuinely welling in Michael's eyes making them appear dewy. She could see how Joseph was preparing to manipulate her husband who suddenly appeared weak and spineless to her. She grew concerned for her husband and what could potentially threaten their marriage. She began to rise from the seat, but Joseph pushed hard against her right shoulder making her crash heavily back into the plush upholstery.

"Elizabeth, perhaps Michael has not explained the - shall we way 'anthropology' - of our culture, so allow me instead. You see, we recognized centuries ago that no one man could be everything to his mate, and that women have a far higher sexual capacity than many men. Frankly, most men are inferior to women in this capacity. They are what your western scientists would call 'beta' males. These men tend to make far better husbands and companions and are much preferred by our women as life partners. In contrast, there are also what you would term 'alpha' males whose primary task is to bring physical pleasure to our women. For the sake of putting a name on them, you might call them 'alpha' males in the west.

Patrice is for example a decidedly alpha male. I am told that my fellow tribesman brings Nigel's Anne to 5 or 6 orgasms a night, one after another. I am certain your Elizabeth is equally capable of at least that much pleasure with the right man. Perhaps you yourself have been able to give her the gift of that much pleasure when her mood is right, isn't that true my friend?"

Nothing was further from the truth, but Michael sat transfixed saying nothing at all. Joseph let his words sink in, knowing he had hit the mark. An uncomfortable silence, lasting several seconds, enveloped the limo like a heavy blanket. Beads of perspiration began to break out on Michael's forehead in the now overheated limo.

The chauffeur had moved to a position next to the jump seat door, but made no move to open the door. Michael could see his breath fogging the night air.

Joseph continued, "In our 'uncivilised' African culture, where there is no divorce and spousal abuse is almost unknown, married men and women 'tend their marital garden' as a farmer would tend his fields, encouraging different crops for different purposes. Thus a woman's companion for life cares for children, cooks, cleans their abode, prepare her for her bull, or in some cases, 'bulls'. This man in our language is referred to as 'companion husband' and more often, 'sister husband'."

"Additionally, a woman has one or more men to bring her pleasure and to breed superior offspring. Such men are called 'bulls', and yes, the meaning is the same as in your culture."

Again the powerfully built African paused for effect. "Bulls keep the tribe supplied with the strongest children. A woman's sister husband is her most intimate ally and confidant. Hence she shares everything -- her deepest secrets and desires, the details of her couplings with her bull -- often enlisting him to find and recruit her bulls for her. He takes this task on as a sacred validation of their marriage roles. Naturally marriages are consecrated and celebrated by the tribal leaders, so we often are recruited as the alpha husband to our women. This is sad for me, as I would never be chosen as a companion husband alas."

"Friend Michael, do I speak truly? Do I accurately describe what you have witnessed on your trips to Africa?"

Michael could only squeak out a weak, "Ummm, I uhh, uh-huh. I guess so. Yeah."

Michael, surely you believe every wife deserves a superior man -- one who can take her to new lands, undreamed of pleasures -- as well as one she can share other parts of her life with."

Michael could feel his small member growing uncomfortably rigid, and was speechless. Elizabeth's face was painted with anger, and she moved toward the car door, grasping for the handle. She didn't care for the way the prince had manipulated her husband into a difficult position. Moreover, she didn't care for her husband's lack of resolve and his inability to defend their way of life. Reinforcing her earlier fear and panic, she began to hate herself for the feelings, and the illicit passion she had shared so freely with the African prince. When she suddenly thought of him inside her, she was filled with disgust. She wanted nothing as much to leave the car and never see him again. With a quick motion, Joseph grabbed her forcefully, restraining her exit.  

"Wait. Michael and Elizabeth, stop. Surely this must make some sort of sense to you, even if it is not the way things are done back in your Indiana? Even there, I am told there are many couples that live marriages by such an arrangement. I would ask you please to at least offer me some indication that at least you understand me and will consider what I am proposing."

Elizabeth blurted out, "Michael, no! No!"

Confused and intimidated, Michael didn't know what to say or do and wanted to exit the limo as badly as Elizabeth. He reached in his coat pocket for something to mop the sweat from his brow, and felt then pulled out the panties Elizabeth had tossed to him earlier in the evening, and in the darkness absent-mindedly fidgeted with them between his nervous fingers.

"Uhh, Your Highness. Well . . . We, umm, well we will sure consider your suggestion. Believe me. Thank you for the evening. Well, we have to go now. Umm, yes . . . have to go. Umm, here."

As if to placate a ravening dog with a scrap of meat, and without conscious thought, he tossed the bright red panties toward the African, then bolted past Elizabeth toward the door, now held open by the driver. In the darkness, Joseph held them up as if to inspect them, smiled approvingly of their bright crimson colour and the darker area where they were stained from close contact with a wet crotch earlier in the evening. He waved merrily at the couple as the car pulled away just in time for him to hear Elizabeth screaming, "Michael, damn you -- you're a spineless little worm," disappearing behind him in the distance.

14.

They walked up the stairs to their flat woodenly, not speaking and not looking at one another. Michael fumbled the keys, dropping them loudly, then picked them up with shaking hands. In a moment, they were inside and Michael collapsed heavily into the lounge sofa. 

Elizabeth had tears in her eyes and stormed toward the bedroom. Over her shoulder, she stated in a cold voice, I'm going to bed. Alone." She looked down at his precum stained trousers then added, "Perhaps you should take a cold shower. I will bring you a blanket and a pillow. Good night."

Knowing there was no response appropriate to that, Michael threw up his hands and shrugged. Ten minutes later, tucked in on the sofa, then finally fell asleep. In their bedroom, sleep eluded Elizabeth. She tossed and turned and tried to make sense of the eventful evening, and finally her eyes closed.

In the small hours, Michael woke with the beginnings of a hangover and padded to the small kitchen to find some aspirin. After swallowing them and rubbing the back of his neck, he sat in the big chair in the lounge looking out into the darkness. He tapped his feet nervously, seeming to remember something. Looking over his shoulder at the bedroom and hearing nothing, he slid over to the computer. He turned on the machine and while waiting for it to boot, silently tiptoed over to his pants to retrieve the slip of paper Nigel had given him earlier in the evening.

He opened the URL written for him and entered the password. His hands trembled as he saw several images and video thumbnails. He immediately recognized Anne's image in several of them. In one series, she was primly dressed in an elegant dress and the photos appeared to be at some sort of elegant party. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she was clearly not pregnant; she wore a high neck form hugging red dress, white stockings, and very high stiletto heels. A man was pulling her by the wrist and a later image showed them dancing together. It took Michael a second to identify the man as Patrice, as his skin was so dark and the image slightly underexposed. In another, they were drinking each other's champagne in that silly arms entwined pose. There were several others from the same venue. Michael only saw Nigel in one of them and he appeared to beam at his wife and her tall companion. 

Next, he clicked on a video at the top of the page. He was immediately absorbed at what he saw. Anne was facing the camera, still dressed in the red dress. Her left air was lifted gracefully and Patrice was running his hand down her arm while kissing her neck on the left side. As her arm floated downward, Patrice cupped her breasts through the dress. With her free hand she unpinned her hair and her blonde tresses flowed over her shoulders. Patrice continued kissing her from behind and massaging her breasts with huge hands. Anne's head swayed back and forth lazily, not even stopping when Patrice moved his hand to unzip her dress from behind.

Michael could see the hand gliding down her back, and then return to her shoulders, slipping her dress off. Its lush material made it plop to the floor quickly and in a blink of an eye, Michael saw Anne clad only in a sheer transparent bra and high stockings, snapped into an old fashioned garter. Amazingly , she wore no panties and Michael could see her blonde pussy hair neatly trimmed into a 'landing strip'.

Now in the video, Patrice, still behind Anne, reached to open her front closure bra. Her small 34A breasts tumbled out, looking ample on her petite frame. She shrugged the bra straps off and it slid very slowly down her porcelain arms. She leaned back again Patrice, her hands behind her now, rubbing Patrice's pants front, obviously massaging his cock. Patrice kissed her lips as her head rested against his chest. They were still facing whomever was manning the video camera and the African was pulling her nipples forward from the mounds of her breasts, making them stand out strongly from puffy pink aureoles.

His little member grew very stiff straining against his tight white briefs. Looking over his shoulder to make certain Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen, he began slowly stroking his penis now sticking out a full 4". He had been yearning to orgasm all night and in his hypersexual state, he would not last long.

After a few more minutes of sucking his tongue deeply she turned to face Patrice. She began unbuttoning his shirt and pushed it aside from his chest. She alternated between his black nipples kissing and sucking each one while her hand worked at his trouser zip. In moments, his massive black cock sprang free of its restraint and bounced into an upward pointing position halfway up her tummy. Michael marveled at the size of the black man's erection, both its length and overall girth. 

He looked at the pitiful offering in his right hand and the realization hit home that no women would want a man with such a sad little dick, and his Elizabeth especially deserved more. Maybe he ought to push her harder he thought. As his attention was diverted, his penis shrank and became soft. Looking down, he hated himself and his obvious lack of endowment. He had not understood it then, but he had in that instant passed the entry gate to cuckoldom. In time, as his self esteem shrank, so would the size of his already small circumcised worm. 

Turning his attention back to the video, Anne was now on tiptoes kissing Patrice while he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Next alternated between pulling her nipples toward him and cupping her breasts which disappeared each time in his huge dark hands. They continued kissing while she ran one hand over his hairless chest and, tugging back on his long foreskin, stroked his massive cock with the other.

She kicked off her heels and immediately became 4" shorter, just the right height to open her mouth wide and lower her head over the flared dark brown mushroom of his head. She looked so demure and innocent in the lens of the camera, her skin was absolutely flawless and soft. Her eyes however had the look of a woman in a drug induced haze, as though she had a desperate need for something and that need was about to be met. She pulled down on the massive tool and rubbed the head over each taut nipple coating them with precum which was leaking liberally from the giant black cock. Patrice told her sharply, "On your knees where you belong cunt."

She obeyed without hesitation and began to lick and cover his manhood leaving wet trails each time it emerged from her expanded lips. She sucked each of his balls then kissed back behind them and licked his taint. The black man was moaning loudly, then after several minutes, Patrice motioned her to a bed and ordered her on her knees. 

The video camera jerked unsteadily as whoever was operating it struggled to move it into a better position. Eventually, it settled and Michael could see Anne's tiny pussy pointed straight toward the camera. Patrice had pushed her head unceremoniously down to the bed and as she moved, Michael could see her breasts now hanging straight down from her body, the aureoles seeming to span half her breast. Michael thought back to earlier in the night when he caught as sidelong glimpse of her breasts and how utterly huge and swollen with milk for Patrice's baby they had become. Anne certainly didn't appear prim and reserved anymore, nor did she, captured in the video where she had the look of a woman begging to be fucked. She waggled her ass back and forth and moaned, "Please, please."

A deep voice replied from slightly above the video frame, "Please what cunt?"

Anne looked back, her face and upper torso now red with lust and excitement. She moaned, "Please fuck me with your hot black cock, please."

Again the voice boomed, "And we will have no stupid talk from you about pulling, agreed? I am bareback inside you and I will finish inside you, right?"

Anne spoke in breathy reply, "Right, right. Please!"

With that, Patrice's taut black ass filled the frame and again the videographer move to the side to capture Anne's reaction. There was a wall mirror adjacent to the bed and now Michael could see the reflected image of Nigel. He was the videographer and he was naked except for some strange little contraption that seemed to encase and bend his tiny white penis and lock around his balls, so that only the head showed. Michael started to smirk at its petite size until he looked down at his own unit and saw that it was not much bigger, even erect. 

Michael pulled hard on it, stiffening it again, and an image entered his brain of his own wife perhaps on her knees, perhaps with Joseph or Patrice behind her, and he knew that he had to have this. He had to make her understand that he needed this too. But how to broach the subject with her, how to turn her into a hotwife? Again, he failed to understand, but in just that instant, he was passing by the second milestone to cuckoldom.

As Patrice began to stroke incredibly hard and fast so did Michael. Patrice now flipped Anne onto her back and pushed her thighs apart, entering her roughly. As he rode her , they kissed in a way that was more intimate and sensual and made Anne moan in a way that Michael had never made his wife feel. He suddenly exploded pushing three tiny spurts into his free hand. Momentarily shocked at himself, he padded awkwardly to the water closet to find tissues. 

When he returned, the pair had changed positions so that she was riding her lover cowboy style. As she pushed down and forward to take even more of him in, her pillowy ass cheeks alternately flexed and relaxed. Patrice was clearly balls deep inside her and as she worked hard for her climax her hands caressed his black body over and over. She screamed in ecstasy and it was clear that she had climaxed and climaxed hard. She fell over onto her black lover's chest and appeared to stop breathing for a few anxious seconds. 




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 03



Michael reflected on how much he wanted to be standing at the side of their marital bed and see his own wife ride a hot black lover like Patrice, and with that passed the point of no return to cuckoldom. Nothing would stand in the way of him forcing his wife into this lifestyle. He quickly grew hard again and began stroking his pale little manhood. 

Patrice had turned his partner over on her tummy and entered her from behind again. He met no resistance as the camera clearly revealed just how stretched Anne's vagina was. Patrice parted her now puffy pussy lips with every push.

Anne was exclaimed, "Damn it, you're pushing right into my womb. Oh god, stop. Please pull, Patrice. Please."

Patrice grinned an evil grin and yelled, "No way cunt. I plant my seed deep inside you and make your belly big."

Now their bodies slapped together wetly as a stroked her deep and hard, his huge balls rocking furiously. He came inside her hard as he moaned loudly. He collapsed onto her body then raised himself back up on strong forearms and kissed her back. She was eerily silent in a way that only a woman completely satisfied, then possessed by her man can be.

Michael's jaw was slack and he was moaning to himself. His attention was focused on the screen and he did not see his wife, seeing exactly what he had seen, staring daggers at him through the narrow opening of the bedroom door. In the darkness of the lounge, Michael dribbled a second weak climax.

Elizabeth was in turmoil. She hated Joseph now -- didn't she? She had cheated behind her dear husband's back; that was a clear and pressing threat to her marriage -- wasn't it? Closing her eyes she could almost smell the strong musk of Joseph. Her crotch reacted, and her vaginal muscles began throbbing. Surely she couldn't be in need of him - could she? She didn't want any part of this crazy lifestyle that seemed to be rushing headlong toward them, that she knew from Anne had changed her marriage beyond the point of no return. Elizabeth didn't want that at all; she just wanted to go back to the States with her Michael -- didn't she? Her mind raced as her confusion dominated her psyche.

In the lounge, Michael wiped cum from his sore little dick, hardly believing he had climaxed twice in a single night. He was in the grip of cuckold fever, but Elizabeth would never go for something as crazy as this -- would she? If he could trick her somehow into Joseph's arms, he would still have all of a husband's rights to his wife -- wouldn't he? Surely he would benefit directly by her becoming so much more sexual, becoming -- what was the term Nigel used -- a 'hotwife'? He wouldn't just become one of those -- what was the term Joseph used -- 'sister husbands?" His mind raced as the fever dominated his psyche.

Both Michael and Elizabeth were thinking, almost as if in concert, this is not over yet. Not at all. 

A scant few blocks away, Joseph undressed and started pulling his wallet, lighter, and other paraphernalia from his pockets. His finger found the soft material of Elizabeth's panties, and pulled them slowly out. Holding them up and inspecting them appreciatively them under the light of the chandelier, he thought to himself, this is not over yet. Not at all. It's just beginning. Everything is falling into place. 



Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 04



15.

The early morning sun streaming through the slatted window coverings tugged at Michael's eyelids. The pattern they made on his face annoyed him as he tried to find a comfortable position to fall back to sleep. Eventually, he gave up, turned onto his back and irritatedly rubbed the night away from his eyes. He felt his chin then decided he didn't have enough stubble to shave. He only shaved once a week at most and there was no sign it was needed yet. He was generally hairless which Elizabeth had always said she liked. The idle thought that Joseph had little body hair as well came to him and that brought back his memory of the long and confusing night just passed.

He stretched, then pressed his fingers into his forehead and temples, willing away both the memories of the night and the hangover he was feeling. He shook his head thinking how stupid he had been and how tossing Elizabeth's soiled panties to the African in a moment of panic had led to his sleeping on the sofa in the lounge instead of with his wife. The pounding in his head seemed almost audible, then he realized that there was actual pounding. Someone was in fact knocking loudly down at the front door to their flat. 

He tugged on the dress trousers casually thrown over a chair last night and, deciding to forego shoes or socks, he padded down the long stairs. He fumbled with the lever style door handle. Brushing his hair back, he pulled open the heavy wooden door. His jaw dropped with surprise and a frown creased his brow. To his very great surprise, he saw the tall broad frame of their host of the previous evening, thankfully blocking most of the sunlight from Michael's pained eyes. Awkwardly, he offered, "Joseph, what's going on? I mean, why are you here? What time is it anyway"

Joseph's wide friendly smile revealed his dazzling white teeth and his flashing bright eyes. "So many questions, friend Michael. It is eight in the morning and I am here to fetch your charming wife for our morning run. We did this often while you were away in Lagos. Is she not ready? It looks as if I awakened you."

Michael ran his fingers through his shaggy mane and looked at the silhouetted form of the huge man, resplendent in silky running togs. "No, that's ok. Umm . . . wait here and I will see if she's up for a run. Last night was a late night."

Reconsidering the idea of leaving their generous host cooling his heels in the tiny entry, Michael said instead, "Look, why don't you come on up and wait in the lounge."

Joseph bounded up the wooden stairs then turned into the lounge as though he knew the layout of the flat. Michael plodded up the stairs behind him at a much slower pace and arrived at the top of the stairs to see Joseph standing hands on hips surveying the scene in the lounge. It was obvious to anyone that the married couple had slept apart the previous night, and Michael did not see the secret smile of satisfaction on the big African's broad lips. Joseph was exceedingly pleased that 'his' Elizabeth had not shared a bed with her husband last night.

Michael cleared his throat, then asked whether Joseph would like anything to drink. When the prince declined, Michael crooked his thumb, pointed back over his shoulder and said, "Well, let me see if Elizabeth is up for a run, or awake anyway."

Michael rapped timidly at the door, while Joseph, looking at the messy lounge looked for a place to sit, perched regally on the chair in front of the computer.

He heard Elizabeth mumble in a gravelly voice, "Michael, go away. Leave me alone you worm! What the hell do you want?"

Michael felt little tears gathering at his eyes and his chin trembled, reflecting his sadness and remorse. He considered his reply. "Elizabeth, your . . . Umm, your running partner is here. Joseph I mean. He wants to know if you want to go with him -- go running I mean. Shall I tell him no?" 

An uncomfortable silence of several seconds ensued. She replied a less harsh voice, "Tell him to go away. Tell him I don't want to see him. Tell him . . . No wait. Hold on, I'll tell him myself."

Several awkward seconds passed, then the heavy door to their bed chamber creaked open. Elizabeth stood in the doorway in cotton bikini cut panties and one of Michael's old undershirts, hastily pulled over her head.

She stopped short as soon as she saw Joseph, his imposing form dominating their lounge. Words suddenly failed her, as she shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. She had wanted to tell him that it was over, that she didn't want a relationship of any kind with him, but the sudden sight of his sculpted form stopped her short. She was suddenly breathing more heavily and her body betrayed her. She could feel that her nipples were stiffening and pushing against the thin material of the undershirt. Her stomach tightened as well, knotted in tension mixed with a sudden tinge of desire. 

Elizabeth frowned, confused by her mixed feelings. Her head was telling her to extricate herself from what had become a horribly uncomfortable situation, one she wanted her husband to have no knowledge of. Her body on the other hand was signalling all the telltale signs of desire. Her pussy tightened and throbbed once which made her close her eyes to shut out the feelings that were overcoming her. She unconsciously crossed her hands, covering her pubic region, hiding the dark thatch of her pubic hair whose outline had been clearly visible a second before.

What was wrong with her she wondered. She had only been with the Joseph a couple times. How could she be feeling the same things she had felt many years before when Michael was courting her as a young woman? She suddenly understood this wasn't going to be easy. Her stomach was doing flip flops and it was hard to swallow. She knew she had to talk to Joseph, and although she felt like hell this morning, she held up a hand and said, "Your Highness, wait. Just give me ten minutes to get ready, OK? I'd like to run with you."

Joseph raised an eyebrow wondering if there was a double meaning in her words, and smiled replying, "Of course you would. I happy to take things at your pace."

Michael was completely oblivious to any undertones in this exchange, and stood awkwardly as the door closed. Joseph smiled, then swiveled the chair to face the iMac, and suddenly bored, absent mindedly tapped the keyboard, bringing the machine to life. What he saw both amazed and delighted him. The screen was filled with images of his friend Patrice in various sexual activities with Anne. Her cuckold husband Nigel was not in any of the pictures but was certainly the photographer. Joseph clicked on one of the videos which began playing.

Michael moved awkwardly to try to stop the video, but Joseph restrained him. In his eloquent English accent, made more mellifluous by his African sing-song, Joseph said, "No, friend Michael. Let's watch. I see you wasted no time in accessing the private site. Patrice told me that you and Nigel had a conversation last evening. They are beautiful wouldn't you agree. Does this mean you are thinking about what we discussed last night?"

Now Michael was at a loss for words. A part of him wanted this in the worst possible way, and another part just didn't see how it would be possible. Additionally, he was also concerned about the possibility of losing his wife and their comfortable though boring life together. He shrugged and started to speak, but Joseph put his huge hand on Michael's chest. Joseph pointed to the screen and explained, "I chose this one especially. This was the night when Patrice bred Anne. Nigel told us that he never felt a more erotic thrill than this night. Can you imagine our fair Elizabeth, big in the belly with her alpha male's seed ripening inside her? Would that not be the most erotic feeling you could be privileged to experience!"

Joseph had taken a risk, albeit a highly calculated one, of offending Michael, but from the way Michael was licking his lips he could see his verbal arrow had hit home. Michael wiped sweaty palms against his pants, looked nervously back over his shoulder and whispered, "Your Highness, umm prince, umm Joseph, even supposing I did want . . . want to proceed. How would we . . . how would we do that?"

Joseph bit his cheek to keep from smiling too triumphantly. He whispered conspiratorially, "Dear friend Michael, your wife is an exceptional woman -- but she is exceptionally strong minded as well though, and we will need all your help in making that which you desire most to happen."

Joseph licked his lips and continued, "Listen, my friend, I have an idea. I would like to propose she be my companion at an Embassy function tomorrow night. You will suggest that you would be very comfortable with this. Moreover, you might suggest that if I were to make, shall we say, 'amorous advances' that she should feel that it would please you for her to not resist. I believe that we will be able to overcome her natural reservations but only with your strong leadership and help."

Joseph squeezed Michael's slender thigh with one hand, patted him on the back with the other and continued, "Are you man enough? Are you the strong husband that I think you are?"

Michael squared his shoulders, nodded, then replied resolutely, "Yes, Your Highness, you may rely that I am! I will tell Elizabeth in no uncertain terms what I want from her."

Releasing his grip, Joseph smiled then said, "Please, please call me Joseph from now on. If we are to be the masters -- the alpha and sister husband to your beautiful wife, then our relationship must also become more intimate. We are as brothers now."

The 'sister husband' remark sailed right past Michael whose eyes were still fixed on his computer screen. He simply nodded his agreement. 

Joseph smiled then patted Michael's knee and whispered, "Good! Then I can assure you that you will know sexual highs such as you have never experienced before. Your wife will become a 'hotwife' such as you can scarcely imagine. Do I take it that I have your complete permission to do everything I wish with your wife?"

He gestured pointedly to the screen where the video was still playing. The videographer had moved to the side of the bed and was framing Anne and Patrice perfectly. He could see Patrice sliding in and out of Anne with no resistance. Each thrust took a long second as his shaft seemed to penetrate the blonde very deeply. Their lips were locked in a deep kiss and her torso strained hard, pushing her hips upwards against him to hasten her orgasm. Michael's groin tightened, and with steely resolve, Michael nodded his agreement. Licking his lips again, he said clearly, "You can count on me. . . Joseph.

The bedroom door opened and Joseph reached over, quickly turning the monitor off. Elizabeth looked at them with a quizzical look. They looked rather like boys caught with their hands in a cookie jar. She didn't know what was going on or whether to be angry or amused. Joseph broke the tension. "There's my partner now. Are you ready?"

He strode confidently over and took her hands in his. "You look lovely this morning. Last night obviously agreed with you!"

Nothing could have been further from the true Elizabeth thought. Her head pounded still from a hangover and she had not slept well. Nevertheless, she had quickly wiped down with a wet washcloth and run a brush through her dark mane, and did indeed look rather radiant.

Michael looked at the pair and got a little rush from seeing his new prospective brother in marriage holding his wife's hands. The contrasts in their skin color could not have been more dramatic and this too excited Michael. He noticed that Elizabeth had not released Joseph's large hands and that too excited him.

Joseph took her by the wrist, and led her to the middle of the room. The three of them were now very close. "Elizabeth, I have just asked Michael whether you might consent to be my companion -- or how shall we call it -- my 'date' for the embassy reception for the new American diplomatic staff. It's tomorrow night and as I would otherwise be alone, I would love to have you by my side. What do you say?"

Elizabeth was still conflicted, but Michael's enthusiastic urging was pushing her into accepting. She shrugged and nodded her consent. Joseph put his arm around her waist and squeezed her tight into his side. "Wonderful. Let's seal the agreement as we did last night then." 

Elizabeth appeared not to understand but Joseph suddenly took her in his arms and kissed her full on the lips, lifting her off her feet. She held the kiss a moment too long then attempted to push away from him. He held her strongly, then as if to underscore his control, gently returned her to the floor. Unseen by her, he winked at Michael who was suddenly unable to catch his breath. Elizabeth stared into his dark mysterious eyes and was suddenly lost in the moment. 

For the briefest moment in time everything outside of Joseph ceased to exist. She still felt the wetness of his kiss and the pressure left by his full lips. She shook her head to snap out of the weird feeling that had suddenly overcome her - a feeling that she belonged to Joseph, that she was his and his alone. Joseph stared back at her and as if reading her very thoughts, he nodded subtly and smiled at her. She frowned back at him, willing the feeling away and trying to put the world back in focus.  

"What about it, Elizabeth, are you ready to run with me? Think you can keep up?"

She put her hands on her hips and replied, "I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you Prince Jusef. I think you may find I can give you a run for your money."

Although her words seemed confident and empowered, she was feeling a schoolgirl tingle inside her and despite her new resolve to end things with the handsome black man, her body was continuing to send her conflicting signals, telling her what she really needed. If only she could count on Michael to force her to put the brakes on -- but what were they talking about when she came out of the bedroom?

They started down the stairs, Joseph patted her butt, and winked over his shoulder to Michael. The heavy wooden door slammed shut and Michael was alone.

16.

Michael waited 5 minutes to make certain they were on their run, and turned the screen back on and the sound up. He restarted the video, the one in which Joseph had assured him Anne had been 'bred' and settled back, thoroughly absorbed, and now keenly aware that it might actually be possible to watch his very own wife being fucked just like this. He felt that the possibility was only a remote one, unaware that Joseph had already been inside his wife, had already claimed her as his prize, and more than once. His member began to stiffen and his heart sped up.

Elizabeth had made the decision last night to stop cold turkey, to refuse herself what she had - to her mind - impetuously engaged in with the black prince. She wanted nothing more than to write off the sex she had with Joseph as a crazy, temporary fling to be forgotten before anything else might develop. Now running gracefully through the back streets in the ancient quarter, she was unaware that her husband had been enlisted by her running mate to put her back in his bed.

After they had run for 20 minutes or so, Joseph put on a burst of speed, leaving Elizabeth several streets behind him. He slowed and to wait for her and then saw her finally coming into view. His skin had a fine sheen of sweat and as Elizabeth neared he seemed to glow. She was satisfied with her run but was a bit breathless as she approached him. She reached out and brushed past him grabbing his arm to slow to a stop. She stood close to him, panting slightly. As she caught her breath, she became acutely aware of the smell of his sweat loaded with his pheromones. Her mind was suddenly filled with a powerful flashback of time shared, moments remembered, and the touch of the powerful man by her side. Involuntarily, her mouth began to water, just a bit, but enough to make her swallow. Her nipples stiffened and her pulse raced on both sides of her neck. Again the world seemed to go out of focus except for Joseph who stood out in stark relief. She was determined not to give into the feelings and the sexual rush coursing through her veins. 

Squeezing her eyes shut, Elizabeth tried to will away both the sexual tension inside her and the feeling of aching desire coursing through her body. When she opened her eyes again, the world came back into focus. She straightened up and rubbed her arms, suddenly a bit chilled. "Joseph, we . . . we have to talk."

Back in their flat, Michael had paused the video and was sitting back in the computer chair with his eyes closed. He could scarcely believe what he had watched for several minutes this morning for several minutes and for over an hour the preceding night. He was rubbing his crotch with one hand, feeling the sexual tension mounting almost painfully. He was alternately imagining Elizabeth naked with Joseph mounting her like a ravening beast, and then trying to squeeze the image out of his brain. He pulled his trousers down and quietly stroked his member, still red and sore from his marathon masturbation session watching the videos of Anne and Patrice into the small hours of the night.

As he was nearing the point of no return, a sudden image formed behind his closed eyes. Instead of Anne, he saw his wife, nude to the waist, belly swollen with child, her arm around Joseph. That put him over the edge as his balls jerked and a small clear stream shot into his other hand. As he shuffled to the water closet, his pants around his knees nearly tripped him up. He cleaned the watery goo from his fingers and his now shrunken penis hurt from all the unaccustomed attention over the last several hours. He pulled up his trousers and padded into the en suite to shower find a change of clothes. As the warm water began to trickle over him he had a sudden moment of clarity. Why, he asked himself was he anxious to push his innocent wife into the arms of this man? Was it because, as Joseph had suggested he recognized his wife would be happiest with a superior man? Elizabeth had been lukewarm at best in bed for the last several years; perhaps he simply wanted the best for her. 

He had never actually witnessed the marital customs of shared wives the prince had described so vividly last night, but he had heard about them from other white professionals who were just now beginning to engage commercially with Joseph's people in a wide swath of Africa cutting through the artificial national boundaries of Nigeria, Cameroon, and the Congo. The thought came to him that perhaps if Elizabeth and he could see this first hand, it might break through her seemingly icy resolve. He would have to mention it to the prince.

Drying off, he walked into the bedroom to find briefs and a clean tee shirt. Tugging those on he went looking for a hairbrush which led him to Elizabeth's dresser drawers. He found one in the topmost, then spied something curious under her panties. it was a pair of mens boxers in blue silk. Plucking them out and looking at the tag he noticed they were from a stored in London. He scratched his head and holding them to his face sniffed them experimentally. Far from being fresh, they seemed disgustingly rank, having a stale sweat odor. Perhaps they had been left here by the previous tenants and Elizabeth had never noticed them. He shrugged, tossed them in the trash and kicked the drawer shut with his knee.

Several streets away, Joseph stood close to Elizabeth. It was a closeness that the casual onlookers strolling the narrow street recognized unmistakably as the closeness only lovers and other intimates share.

Joseph put his arm around her waist, then kissed her long and hard. She put up no resistance whatever, and instead returned his passion with equal force. Their faces gyrated slowly from side to side as the seconds stretched on. Elizabeth wanted the kiss to last and signalled her intent clearly to Joseph, Her tongue snaked over his and for the third time in the young day, the world seemed to go out of focus. Only the kiss, Joseph's masculine pheromone rich scent, and the heat of his strong body seemed to exist. And now for the first time, she did not fight against the feeling of melting in to Joseph; the feeling of belonging to him utterly and completely; the feeling that whatever he wanted from her would be given. Instead she let it wash over her completely carrying her away on a sea in which there were no doubts, and no other choices.




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 04



When Joseph finally broke the kiss, she stared into his eyes and her entire body trembled. He lifted her chin and said softly, "Elizabeth, we are so close; so close to having everything you want -- a man strong enough to match your passion and fill your womb with a strong child of Africa, and another to wait on you hand and foot. Do not doubt your feelings. We will have it all. Tell me you are mine woman."

Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She broke down crying, and her head flopped forcefully forward against his chest. Her nostrils were now filled with him and there was a sudden churning deep in her gut. A tingle ran from just under her heart all the way down to her toes. Her face was completely muffled in his chest, but his was able to make out her words, "Oh yes Joseph. Yes. Anything you want. Everything I have is yours."

Then she sobbed hard, her tears mixing with his sweat. Her body wracked tensely. An old couple strolling by frowned with obvious anger and disdain at the black man stroking the pale white woman's coal black hair. They shook their faces in disgust and called out something Elizabeth didn't understand. Joseph raised an eyebrow and smiled back at them. The day was starting out well. 



Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 05



17.

Now, the Ancient Quarter was waking up at its usual lazy pace. Elizabeth had grown to think of this part of the city as being like a pampered dowager cat, awakened daily by the caress of the sun and stretching lazily to greet each morning. Today was no different as the sun crept with feline grace down the stucco sides of the buildings, giving the morning a soft yellow glow. 

Elizabeth stood quietly at Joseph's side looking absent minded through a storefront window on the Corso del Rinascimento, just where it connected through little alleyways to the Piazza Navona. Her heart was full of anxiety as she tried to wrap her head around all the conflicting emotions she felt. She was trying desperately to work out a solution that would not destroy her marriage, not hurt her husband and yet still permit her to explore the feelings that were pulling her so hard to go even deeper into the kind of relationship this beautiful man standing so close to her had proposed. She could feel his warmth as he held her, his strongly muscled arm wound casually around her waist. She could smell his scent conveyed to her by the little convection currents wafting up from the paving stones. It actually made her mouth water and she shook her head trying to clear the feeling of desire from her brain.

Joseph could see that in her reflection in the storefront glass and he looked over at her quizzically. "My woman, something troubles you. Unburden yourself to your man."

"That's just it Joseph. How can you possibly be 'my man'. I am married you know, and until a few weeks ago I thought I was happily married. Now you offer this entirely new and entirely alien idea of what marriage can be and I am so torn. On the one hand, nothing I have ever done is as exciting as what we have shared. Nothing has ever been as earth shattering as the way you make me feel when we are . . ."

She looked over her shoulder as if she expected someone might be spying on them and it made her feel even more guilty. Seeing no one she continued, this time in a husky, barely audible whisper.

"As when we are. . . intimate. Oh God, Jusef! I can barely manage to hold it together. I want you so fucking bad I could just rip your shorts off and suck your cock right here. Do you understand how much you're in my brain; how crazy you make me?"

Joseph said nothing, instead squeezing her waist and pulling her closer. His brow furrowed as he considered how to respond. She had just called him 'Jusef,' the Islamic version name that he had explained only a parent or an intimate -- like a wife or lover would use -- spoke volumes to him about how she felt about him right now. 

She continued, still in a whisper, but growing more breathless as she unburdened her soul to the tall black man whose side now tightly pressed against hers, "On the other hand, I really love Michael and after all we have 18 years together, we made a child together after all. I could never do something that hurt him. I mean I already have cheated on him with you, and I don't want to hurt him any more. Can you understand that? Does my marriage mean nothing to you for heaven sake?"

"Elizabeth did last night's conversation in the car mean nothing to you. Do you not understand what I was proposing? Believe in me, my woman and know that, yes, your marriage will be redefined but in a way that benefits all three of us, and especially Michael. We are all in this future together."

He paused a moment for effect, but before he could continue, they watched an ugly double decker bus cough up a glob of badly dressed tourists, probably American. They filled the cobble stone alley leading to the piazza, and Joseph grimaced in frustration.

"Come, we need privacy. Let's get away from these people" 

Joseph took Elizabeth by her wrist and began striding purposefully through the clutch of tourists and down the narrow alleyway like a shark through a school of minnows. She never failed to appreciate his strength and the easy, unconscious dominance he exerted over her. Now was no exception as they parted the throng, some of them even running nervously into the narrow walls on either side. In truth, she loved being pulled along by him. It made her feel that Joseph was in complete control of her, and that secretly excited her sexually. Even now she could feel her juices wetting the panty material at the apex of her running shorts. She was not ready to admit to herself how much she loved being submissive to him and would have been shocked to know how much more submissive she would become to him.

He jostled a portly man and his blowzy wife and over his shoulder he heard to man complain grumpily to his wife, "Damn -- look at that fine looking little gal and the way that porch monkey is pullin' her along. I guess they ain't too particular over here. You'd think she would know better than to be seen with a damn nigg. . . "

Before he could finish the sentence, Joseph halted and looked hotly back at the man. The prince's jaw was tight and his glare cut the man down without a word being spoken. Now Elizabeth looked back in anger as well. To further aggravate the bigot, she took Joseph's hand and placed it firmly on her butt cheek holding it in place with her own hand. Joseph squeezed, then rubbed her firm ass cheek possessively as they slowly continued and broke out onto the piazza ahead of the tourists.

The man's wife looked at her husband, angrily silencing him in a loud voice, "Damn it, Albert. I told you to watch what you say, Some of them can understand English, you know. Besides, I wouldn't mind a taste of dark meat myself if they was all built like that one."

The husband was about to reply, but all he could manage was a growl. Elizabeth had heard the remark and thought to herself, "No bitch, he's mine. Anyone who wants him is going to have to claw their way through me to get to him."

She leaned against him body and put her arm around his waist, then suddenly blinked, shocked at what she had just told herself. She could scarcely believe what she had just admitted to herself and again the internal conflict between loyalty and passion began another skirmish. 

Across the large Piazza Navona, they could see that the gelateria at the opposite side of the oval square was just opening, A swarthy worker was rolling up the awning. The place had become Elizabeth's favorite, and Cesare, the proprietor always gave her a free sample on nights when she strolled in. Once, she saw him animatedly jabbering away to the other workers and making a gesture with the middle finger of one hand through the circled thumb and forefinger of the other while his eyebrows wiggled. She didn't need to speak Italian to know the meaning of the gesture, and had actually been a little flattered that he was thinking of her sexually.

Today his face broke into its usual broad smile as she glided into the shop. He thought to himself how sexy she looked and how much he would love to screw her tight little body. He could see her nipples dancing under the sheer material of her running top. His mouth watered and his dick stiffened as he mentally ravaged her. He knew she was American from her previous attempts at conversation but thought she could be mistaken for northern Italian from her pale skin and dark hair. Not for the first time, he thought how much she reminded him of a young version of that American actress Rachel Weisz he had seen in movies imported from Hollywood.

When he saw the coal black countenance of the man who was obviously her companion his face turned to a scowl. This was the first time she had ever visited the shop with Joseph and the owner was shocked and confused. He had seen her with a mousy looking man whom she introduced as 'mio marito', my husband. Clearly this was not the husband, but who then? His jaw dropped as he saw the familiar, possessive way Joseph again took her wrist and led her to one of the glass fronted bins and he thought to himself, 'cosa una piccola puttana' -- what a filthy little whore. This is the last time I let that slut foul my shop. 

Nonetheless, he forced a smile and waited on them. She ordered her favorite, blackberry, while Joseph decided on pineapple. When they strode out of the store the owner stuck his right thumb between his lips making the gesture of scorn behind their backs.

They found a tiny table under an umbrella tucked outside the building's side window. Elizabeth tasted the confection and rolled her eyes in sheer delight. She dug a little with her spoon then offered it to Joseph's lips, feeding him lovingly. "You have got to taste this. It's just like the creamery near my dad's auto dealership when I was a little girl. Gosh, it's so good."

She had fond memories of her dad brining her to work back in South Bend, in the summers with some of her other siblings. He would treat them all to ice cream and let them climb all over the new car interiors, much to the dismay of the car salesmen. She recounted this to Joseph and loved the way his face lit up as he smiled and that made her smile too. He explained that pineapple was the first gelato he had tasted when his father had brought him to Europe for the first time when he was 12. He scooped some onto his middle finger then offered it to Elizabeth. She licked it off his finger then took his finger between her lips, then without pausing moved her mouth back and forth slowly over his finger. Her meaning was transparent and intended to be provocative. Indeed it worked as Joseph's thick member stiffened uncomfortably.

Ironically, a few of the tour group had made its way around the broad piazza and the same man and his wife were staring at them, unable to tear their eyes away. Seeing them from the corner of her eye, Elizabeth's vexation with them grew, and just to be provocative, she held his finger just at her lips and said loud enough for anyone around them to hear, "Mmmmm, I wish this was your hot black cock I was sucking. I think we should go back to your place so you can fuck me hard darling. Who knows, maybe today will be the day you put your black baby inside me."

The couple's eyes grew wide as saucers, and they beat a hasty retreat backing away so swiftly from the interracial pair that the husband tripped on his own feet. As they disappeared, both Elizabeth and Joseph broke into gales of laughter. He took her hand and placed it over his cock, covered only be the sheer material of this running shorts. As the laughter died away and she felt the power and warmth of his hard, thick member, her insides churned. In the back of her mind, she wondered -- and not for the first time this day -- whether the signals coming from all over her body were simply animal lust or evidence of something deeper. 

She was concerned that the latter was definitely the case and that she was, even against her will, feeling a growing love or something very much akin to it for this handsome and powerful man. They began to talk in hushed tones and Elizabeth placed her hand over his on the table. The conversation was wide ranging but she could not bring herself to talk about what was obviously on her mind.

A bit later, Joseph made a round trip to another shop and came back with cappuccinos and biscotti for the both of them. They sat talking about their childhoods and growing up in vastly different parts of the planet for the next hours, barely moving.

It was not just the physicality of it; she realized that if Joseph were just a random (but admittedly wonderful) cock, she would not be having these feelings. There was something more she knew, but asked herself how this could possibly be happening this quickly. Running the gamut of emotions made her feel rather crazy and unsettled -- earlier in the morning she had been ready to tell Joseph she never wanted to see him again. 

Now here she was thinking about changing the ground rules of her married life, the only ground rules she could imagine. At least that's what her Midwest American sensibilities seemed to be reminding her. Again she returned her hand to his leg and felt for his semi-hard cock along the inside of the sheer running shorts. Joseph's breathing quickened but he managed a neutral countenance as he asked casually, "Did you mean what you said about wanting to be bred with my progeny?"

She squeezed her eyes tight as if to banish her titillating remark. When she opened her eyes again, Joseph sat, staring impassively, waiting for an answer. "Oh God, Don't you see that can never be? Joseph, we need to talk. We need to settle this before I go crazy." Her hand massaged his cock and her mouth watered involuntarily. She sat quietly, waiting for him to continue the discussion they had begun an hour ago in the alleyway.

He cleared his throat and began addressing her in even conversational tones; "My dear Elizabeth, you and Michael have been together for years now. You know that your marriage is secure but you also know that he is not a man capable of satisfying your needs in bed. You didn't know that until fate put me into your bed, but you know it now don't you?"

She gulped then nodded. He continued, revealing to her that her husband, far from being shocked at what he was proposing, was asking how he could make it happen. He told her they had talked just this morning and Michael was already asking -- begging really -- for Joseph to take command of their lives. "You may not be talking about it to one another yet, but you are both thinking the same thing. It occurs to me that you are simply afraid of change, afraid of the risk. Yet ironically, both of you know instinctively that this can work. When we are in bed, you are completely submissive to me, which is as it should be. It is my right to expect that of my women. Yet, you seem to be fighting me. Why not simply have the discussions you know you want to have with Michael, so that we can move on to the next stage. You know you want it, and now you can be sure Michael wants it just as badly. Let us return to your flat and conclude the discussion we began last night. Only then will you see just how much Michael wants your marriage to evolve."

During the conversation she had, without realizing it, been inching close to him across the small table and rubbing her leg between his well muscled legs. Each time she felt the friction of his soft skin against hers, her body involuntarily tingled. Making up her mind quickly, she rose and took his and looking him steadily in the eye, offered her wrist to his strong hand. The meaning was unmistakable. She was offering to follow his lead, but she very much wanted him to take that lead in talking to her husband. Her heart was racing and she could scarcely believe what had been discussed was real. Her marriage with Michael had grown stale and was in need of redefinition, but could this radical change be the right medicine? She had felt so badly knowing she had cheated on their commitment, but if it had his blessing it could scarcely be cheating, could it? Still, it troubled her enough to bring it up as they ambled, physically close toward the Teatro Pace with its tall awning crested windows and earth toned buildings. 

"Joseph, there is one thing I ask of you. Please never let Michael know I cheated on him. I mean, what we are about to do will have his blessing, and that is an altogether different thing -- which I admit I don't completely understand -- a husband wanting to share his wife with another man -- but he is delicate in many ways and I don't want to crush his ego."

Looking down at her, he kissed the lush, soft hair on the top of her head, and said reassuringly, "I will grant that dear Elizabeth. I don't want to see him broken either; I need -- we need -- him to be a enthusiastic supporter of this new marriage arrangement. I have the greatest respect for marriage; just because my peoples' definition of marriage differs from you narrow western concept, doesn't mean I don't. Our traditions go back to very ancient times. To us your western traditions are the aberration and an insult to nature. We take our cues from nature, from animals like the lowland gorilla where a few males have access to all the females and the other males assume a grooming role for the females, attending to all their other needs."

Elizabeth looked thoughtfully then asked, "Yes, but how do those other gorillas, err . . . I mean, how do all the other men -- the inferior ones. . . Find any . . . You know . . . sexual satisfaction?"

"A fair question, my princess. Sometimes they get satisfaction in simply watching and playing with themselves. Sometimes they turn to the other inferior males. Sometimes they leave the troop to find other, unaffiliated females as potential mate. Sometimes they offer themselves to the superior males. It depends. 

"As you know, I was involved in such a relationship once before. What seemed to work for him was to watch and sometimes offer himself to me. I expect it will be the same with your Michael."

Elizabeth had a sudden thought as they turned into her flat, "Why did they decide to leave this new kind of marriage if it was so perfect then?"

Joseph shrugged as he pushed the door lever. "As the participation in this style of marriage continues to grow, so does the level of commitment. Certain things are demanded of a wife that, frankly, Lisette simply could not handle. We can talk about that later, but right now my task is to help you see that our little Mikey is very ready to embrace the idea. In fact, if I do not take you in your marital bed today, I believe he will be very much disappointed. Just follow what I am about to tell you."

Joseph went on to explain how how wanted her to handle the conversation with her husband. Some of his instruction seemed to border on cruelty to her and that was something not in her nature. When she protested, he explained that denial and rejection from a wife were huge turn ons for a cuckold. "And make no mistake," he told her, "A cuckold is what Michael wishes to be, and together we will help him grow into that role. We need to help him embrace that side of his nature, to maximize his pleasure, so there will be times when I will order you to do things that will seem to be punishing him. In those times, I advise you to watch his physical reactions and you will see for yourself how much excitement he derives. Do you understand me? Does his make sense to you?" 

Elizabeth had her doubts, but her lust clouded her thinking. She was hopeful he was right. Certainly she could never imagine her typically American husband offering himself to Joseph or any other man for that matter. As far as being willing to share her, he seemed to be more than willing to embrace that. In part that disgusted her and diminished her regard for him for some reason. 

18.

In their prolonged absence, Michael had showered, shaved and dressed in light beige linen trousers and a soft blue pastel sweater. He was barefoot, choosing to remain casual on this lazy weekend. His imagination had been running full throttle, with his thoughts spanning a number of possibilities. When he heard the metallic scratching of the latch, both his excitement and anxiety rose dramatically. 

Joseph preceded Elizabeth up the stairs, and led her by the wrist over to her husband. He released her to address Michael, then stood just behind her. At 5 feet 8 inches, she was already an inch taller than her husband, and now a bit more so in her cushy running shoes. She looked down into his eyes, searching for something, although she wasn't sure what. She took his chin in her hand and looked down into his eyes. "Darling, Prince Joseph and I had a long talk after our run today. I'm sure you know what the topic was. The three of us need to talk. Ok?"

He bit his lower lip and nodded his head. Looking up into her shining eyes, he answered, "Umm . . . Yes, I guess I know. I mean, I know what you want to discuss. Does this disgust you? Do you hate me?" His head lowered and stared down at his feet.




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 05



In the moment, she felt a little sorry for him and all the years of shared moments helped her overcome her anger at what would amount to pimping her to another man. Although he had dropped dramatically in her esteem over the last couple days, Elizabeth nevertheless lifted his chin again and kissed him tenderly on the lips, letting the kiss linger. 

"Hate you? Of course not. I love you more than anything and I always will. Darling, there is no need to be embarrassed or anxious. I just want to hear from your lips that this is something you really want to happen. Even though it's something completely foreign to that way we were brought up, and the way we lived back home, we're not back home now, and if you're really into this, then I am willing as well.

"Joseph has explained to us that this is a perfectly natural thing for some men, and he also told me that you are very excited to share me with him. I just need to know that it's what you want."

Michael was speechless and simply nodded. Mixed emotions - fear, uncertainty, excitement, and a certain amount of disbelief swirled around in equal measure inside him. At the moment he was growing hard but his insides were also tied up in knots.

Feeling Joseph's hand sliding over her shoulder from behind, she shuddered in anticipation, and then continued, "Alright. Then I agree too. I think we should agree -- all three of us -- on some ground rules, though. Don't you?"

Again, Michael only nodded. The power of speech seemed to elude him.

Joseph moved a step closer to Elizabeth, closing the gap between them. One arm circled her waist and she could feel his heavy cock resting at the crack of her ass cheeks. The heat of his muscled form pressed into her back. She grew flustered and her body trembled slightly. Joseph was the first to speak, "Elizabeth, one thing I will insist on, here and now. Both of you, please remove your wedding bands and give them to me."

He held out his free hand while the other one untucked, then slid under her loose fitting sleeveless top. He massaged her waist lightly and discretely but made sure Michael noticed. The couple frowned as they considered his demand.

"Your rings are a symbol of western teachings and of the precept that a man owns a woman. We, the three of us, are moving beyond that old style of thinking into a new land. Wedding rings will be a distraction -- they will constantly remind the three of us of how the west wants us to think and act. They will distract from the joys we are on a path to discover.

"Besides, when the time comes, as our relationship deepens, both of you will receive far more permanent visible symbols. They will reminders that you are part of a tribal tradition going back eons."

Michael and Elizabeth both frowned at this, wondering what could possibly be more permanent, or more visible than wedding bands. Joseph gripped her arm tightly for a moment, then released his grip and waggled his fingers for them to surrender their rings. Although they both struggled to pull them off, they eventually handed the rings over as requested. As Elizabeth stared down at her naked left hand, she felt an eerie sense of loss, but at the same time she felt a sense of freedom; a weight seemed to lift from her shoulders.

Palming the offered rings, Joseph smiled and said simply, "Very good. That is a good first step." He continued, "Does anyone else have something to say? Elizabeth, do you have something to tell Mikey?"

Michael chafed at being called by a name he had hated when he was little and the other kids at school bullied him.

Elizabeth hesitated, but then Joseph prompted her, urging her to go on. She offered, "Umm . . . Honey."

Joseph tossed the rings into a nearby flowerpot and gripped both her arms tightly. 

"Please continue, we are waiting to hear. Tell Mikey what is on your mind." He had squeezed her arm for emphasis when he uttered the word 'Mikey', and she got the unspoken hint that it would be important for her to show resolve although it still felt like unnecessary cruelty to her. 

Mikey sweetie, this is hard to say, but here it is. I think I need to be, well what's the word, 'exclusive' with Joseph, at least to begin with. It would be far too confusing to be with two powerful men at the same time, and besides I think we owe our new husband some special privileges don't you agree?" 

Michael grimaced both from being addressed by a name he hated and by his wife no less and from the realization of what he was agreeing to give up. Elizabeth's heart was racing. She had been coached in what to say to him, and now she had doubts that he would agree. In fact, a secret part of her hoped he would put a stop to all of this right here and now.

Instead, he replied simply, "I guess that seems right. But what is my part then? I mean, how do I . . . I guess the word is 'participate'?"

Elizabeth listened closely, then swallowed hard, looking back at Joseph for guidance. He spoke, "Mikey, you are Elizabeth's sister husband. There will be many ways for you to participate -- just not the ones you have grown accustomed to."

Leaning down to kiss, then bite Elizabeth's pale pink earlobe, Joseph whispered loudly enough for Michael to hear clearly, "I want you to confirm your sexual interests to Michael. I want you to lovingly, but firmly explain that he will not be welcome inside you, but that he will always be an important part of your life. Go ahead, tell him."

"Prince Jusef, please understand how hard this is for us and how conservative we have been in our life together. I need to set the pace. I feel the two of you are pulling the strings and I am expected to dance. You are two powerful men. But . . . Having said all that . . . Yes. Yes, I want to take the next step with you, my prince. And yes, Michael darling, please don't be crushed, but understand I will have to deny you; Joseph will call the shots for now. I am sure there will be many times when you will be permitted certain privileges. Does that excite you?"

She reached out to pull Michael close and her hand cupped his rigid member. Her small hand felt so good squeezing him. He moaned in anticipation of her somehow bringing him to climax even in the awkward situation of Joseph's presence. Joseph shook his head and pulled her forcefully back into his body. He nibbled at the nape of her neck, saying, "No Mikey. There will be none of that today. Today Elizabeth is mine alone and I want you to rejoice in that." 

Still behind her, he raised her hair up. His wide lips sucked at the back and side of her slender neck, then he raised his head and fixed Michael in his gaze. "Understand me well Michael. There will be no 'backsliding' into old ways. If a sister husband is caught having sexual congress with a woman in my land, the punishment is serious. At the first offense, a long wooden sliver is pushed through his member for a week. If there is a second, he is gelded by the woman in front of the entire tribe. There is of course never a third offense."

He let this sink in for a few moments, then moved his hand possessively under Elizabeth's sheer running top again. This time his hand cupped her right breast and Michael could see the outline of the hand massaging and squeezing her breast under the light material of the silky shirt. He swallowed hard and his phallus tented his trousers straining hard with need.  

Michael cleared his throat, and offered a week rejoinder, "Joseph, what about our families, what about our daughter, back in the states? What if she finds out."

Joseph shrugged at replied, "It will be difficult at first, but anything worth a commitment can be difficult. If your daughter is half as perceptive as her mother, she will understand and embrace this choice you are making very quickly. People who are part of our lives instinctively know when we are happy and want to see us fulfilled. Hear me my new bride, I invite you and Michael to come to Africa with me, to see this way of life first hand. Then you will see how very natural this choice is, and how happy the three of us will be." 

He made a mental note to find out more about this daughter but that would come in due time he knew. With that, he moved his other hand under her top and cupping both her breasts, and pulled her back against him. She moaned lightly and Michael watched dumbfounded as both her hands went behind her. She was obviously feeling Joseph's swollen cock and her forearms were moving her unseen hands slowly up and down. Joseph closed his eyes and relaxed a bit, now that the difficult part of guiding the couple was behind him. After several seconds, he spoke. "Then let us consummate what we have begun, my bride and my new brother. But Elizabeth, forgive me -- You stink girl! Aren't you going to freshen up before you pleasure me?"

The statement was so outrageously funny and said with such brio that the tension was immediately shattered. All three of them doubled over in gales of laughter. Recovering first, Elizabeth stood up and sighed, "What can I say. Michael, when our prince commands, we must obey, right?" Again she laughed lightly and moved with exaggerated swings of her arms and hips toward the bedroom and the en suite bathroom. Michael could see the shape of her clothes being tossed into the air and floating to the floor as if possessed of a life of their own as her shadow disappeared. 

19.

After she was out of sight, Joseph leaned close to Michael who could not help but notice that the black man's scent was also a bit overpowering. The prince spoke conspiratorially, "Clearly our wife has been convinced. We have done well to influence her this quickly, do you not agree?" 

Michael nodded and said, "What now? Is there anything more I should be doing?"

Joseph raised an eyebrow, suppressing his urge to laugh at how easily Michael had been manipulated. "If you simply continue to encourage her, I think it will help overcome her natural conservatism. It is going to be difficult for me to overcome all the deeply ingrained prohibitions your society has forced on her, but with your help I know we can help her grow into the woman you dream of. Just tell her every chance you get how much this pleases you and that you want experience this lifestyle as deeply as possible. From what sister husbands back in our tribal lands have told me, there is no greater ecstasy one might experience than watching from the sidelines as your wife transforms.

"And I will insist you come to Africa with me in the next few weeks. And you must tell me more about your daughter. Perhaps she must visit as well."

Michael grew suddenly defensive, saying, "I'm not so sure about that. You're talking about a young woman who's grown up in what we call the 'Bible Belt' in America. I don't think this is something she could ever understand, or that I would want her to know about."

Joseph started to remind him that Elizabeth grew up with the same social norms, but decided that patience would bring him everything he desired. The mention of his daughter tickled Michael's brain and reminded him of something. "Prince . . . err . . . Joseph. Are you actually planning to . . . you know . . . 'Do it' with Elizabeth today?"

Joseph looked at him with feigned surprise, then replied, "Of course. Why do you ask?"

Michael stood for a moment looking nonplussed, then replied, "I see. Umm. It's just . . . Well it's just that Elizabeth is fertile, you see. And well, we are not in any way interested in having, Umm you know, a child. And anyway, I just wanted to mention that there are. Umm. You know. Condoms. In the nightstand."

He had strained to get that out and now stood dumb, hoping that he had made his point, and still scarcely believing that his wife would actually be having sex with this man, who was after all barely more than a stranger to them.

"Thank you Michael for telling me. I appreciate it, really."

As if suddenly remembering something important, the tall African rubbed his chin reflexively, raised his index finger, and remarked, "Oh Michael. I am almost embarrassed to mention this, but as you know I am royalty, and there is a ritual -- it's an oath of fealty really -- that has been handed down for ages, and I think it applies here. To signify that your loyalty is to me personally and acknowledging that my commands are your to obey, it is customary to lower oneself and kiss the royal foot. If you'll be so kind, my friend?"

Michael was both shocked and slightly dumbfounded at the command, nevertheless he knelt down then after removing the prince's shoes and running sox, tentatively kissed the proffered foot. Although he was partly filled with revulsion, his dick inexplicably stiffened to an almost painful rigidness.

Behind them, they heard a feminine throat clearing, "Ah-hem. What the hell is going on here, if I may ask?"

They turned almost in unison. Michael rose and still bent over as a sign of his liege homage respectfully, backed away from the prince to whom he had just pledged his unquestioning loyalty. Michael had a crooked grin, tinged with embarrassment, which disappeared as soon as he looked at his wife in the bedroom doorway. The reality of what was about to happen suddenly struck him like a gut punch. A short blue bath towel covered his wife. Striking a provocative pose, she looked absolutely stunning. Her pale skin contrasted with the blue toweling, one hand securing the material against her skin at the breastbone.

Joseph licked his lips hungrily, and began to pull off his clothes in the middle of the lounge. He tugged off his remaining running shoe without even untying it, and in moments he was completely naked. Even standing behind him and off to the side, Michael could see his massive erection growing. Even to Michael he looked incredible, rather like a marble statue of an athlete, only in onyx rather than marble. His nearly hairless skin glistened and his black skin stood out against the earth tone of the flat.

Joseph reached the bedroom in two strides and Elizabeth moved aside for him to enter. She turned her back to her husband and to face Joseph who had bounded onto the soft bed. He got comfortable and lay on his side, his head propped up by one arm. With the other arm, he was now holding the sheet up with his outstretched hand. Michael marveled at his dashing move and how very black what he could see of the prince between the sheets of their marital bed. Michael understood that this was the crucial moment. Would his wife really go through with this crazy adventure? Did he still want her to? Could this really be happening and who was this woman he thought he knew? For the second time today he felt a pain in his core akin to being punched in his stomach. As he moved closer to watch, he got his answer. 

With unselfconscious abandon, Elizabeth peeled the towel aside. She held the towel outstretched by both arms and slowly moved from side to side to let the black man in their bed inspect her body. She released the towel dramatically and as it flopped wetly to the floor Michael could see her naked form from the rear. Her black hair, still damp cascaded down in waves and little ringlets past her narrow shoulders. Her pale skin had a rosy blush, perhaps from the shower, perhaps from something else. He could count the tiny shadows of her ribs and the nodules of her backbone. Admiringly, he regarded her soft buttocks and tapered legs. His mouth watered. They had not been intimate for days now and he realized that he have never wanted or needed her more than at this moment.

He started to move to her, perhaps to put a stop to what was about to happen, perhaps to touch her. He really didn't know why. Before he got close though, his wife of 18 years slid silently between the covers in the large bed and cuddled her body against Joseph. He released the sheet which floated down to drape their naked forms. Seeing Michael now revealed in the doorway, he spoke commandingly, "Michael, would you have my man bring a change of clothes over for me. Something for dinner would be appropriate. My number is on Elizabeth's phone."

Then he urged Elizabeth to speak with unspoken cues. Michael heard her say in a distracted voice, "Mikey, could you pick up that wet towel? Otherwise it will stain the floor. And close the door please. Thank you honey."

Michael was dumbfounded as he moved awkwardly to do her bidding. Although they were still covered by the sheets, he saw Joseph move astride her and part her legs, pushing one of his in between hers. Transfixed, he could see the outline of Joseph's arm moving under her back and lifting her slightly to him and cover her lips with his broader ones. She opened her mouth eagerly to accept his tongue and Michael could see her sucking it lightly. Her arms emerged from the covers and wound around his neck. The contrast in their skin colors was striking and Michael's member grew even more painfully stiff. 

Joseph broke the kiss and looked deeply into her eyes. She looked intently up at him and one slender hand stroked his head; clearly she was oblivious to anything outside of her lover. Michael swallowed hard in stunned disbelief. Now he watched intently as Joseph's sheet-covered outline shifted so that he was squarely between her legs. Her legs lifted and bent and he could see Joseph tug at his erection to position it at her vaginal opening. As Joseph's large mushroom head entered her, pushing her pussy lips wide apart, her mouth opened wide and she gasped breathlessly. Her eyes winced, as she reacted to a sudden sharp pain. "Oh God, oh God," she said barely audible. 

Michael's hands were shaking and his legs were weak. He stood there unnoticed until he made some sudden little motion that caught Joseph's eye. He stared at the slender presence of his lover's husband and shouted angrily, "Pick up that fucking towel and get the fuck out of here. And close the fucking door behind you!"

Michael bent low as if expecting shrapnel to come flying at him. He picked up the towel and began to back out of the bedroom. His last glimpse of the couple left an image burned into his brain. Joseph had thrown back the sheets and Michael saw his wife clamp her calves around her lover's taut black ass. Again, Elizabeth winced in pain as in one motion, he thrust forcefully into her. His cock curved, seemingly without resistance all the way up inside her. She had taken him balls deep. He held it buried deep inside her and, looking on, Michael was surprised at how quickly the look of pain faded.

Michael closed the door softly and backed heavily into an armchair. His face was beet red, his blood pressure sky high. He grimaced, both because he had been cast out like a lowly servant from his own bedroom and perhaps more so because he saw the way in which Elizabeth seemed transfixed by the lover who seemed to take her with such ease. In all their married life, she had never seemed more than marginally interested in sex with him, always coupling with him cowgirl style for a few minutes until he climaxed then roll off him to douche and take a shower. He would lie there letting his cum ooze down his slender dick inside the condom, then pull the rubber off and fall asleep, sometimes asking himself is that's all there was.

This afternoon however, he saw something altogether different. His wife was reacting with incredible passion to another man she apparently barely knew and in a way he would have thought impossible. Thinking back for a moment about the years of their sex life suddenly made him realize that Joseph was inside their bedroom fucking his wife and he wasn't wearing a condom. He remembered telling Joseph where the condoms were, and for a panicked moment considered rushing in and reminding him, or telling Elizabeth who might not have been aware of the fact. He clenched his fists tightly and instead did nothing. 




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 05



The condom question nagged at him because he was unable to wrap his head around the larger issue of his wife being a few feet away and in bed with someone else. He had seen this much with his own eyes. He took all the talk of a longer term relationship seriously, and it was incredibly heart thumpingly exciting. He couldn't wait to participate as both Joseph and Elizabeth assured him he would. What would that be like, he wondered. Would he share her in the bedroom? Would she become a 'hotwife', passionate and lustful as Nigel's wife had become? Would she become more responsive to him after having been 'warmed up' by the African?

Although she might be at this very moment having sex with a man whom he could now genuinely call her lover, a part of him still rejected the idea that it was really happening. In the back of his mind he wondered whether his wife, as cold as she was in the bedroom, would go through with this idea which suddenly seemed incredibly stupid to him. He had hidden doubts -- even if she did go through with it -- whether she would even be pleasing to this aristocratic black man.

Then too was her tendency toward attachment to anyone who showed her affection. She had grown up in a family with seven siblings and she rarely got much of her parents' attention or warmth. Michael reflected for a moment on his college courtship of his raven haired wife and how she had explained that she needed to go slow with him, because she had a tendency to fall in love with whomever she was physically intimate. Although that was true in their formative years, he certainly could not believe that sex with Joseph was anything more than a little something to spice up their marriage; something to turbocharge her sex drive for her husband. Still, he wondered whether it would result in any change in her feelings for him. 

He looked at the old hand wound clock on the wall. They had been in the bedroom with the door closed a full 15 minutes now. He was dying to know what was happening in there. He crept stealthily over to the bedroom. He put one hand flat against the door to steady himself as he rested his ear against the solid oak. His other hand was in his left pocket, busily squeezing his rigid penis through the material. He could hear muffled sounds that sounded a bit like Elizabeth's voice and a lower male bass. His heart beat wildly as he thought how desperately he wanted to be on the other side of that door watching them.

Indeed, on the other side of the door, Elizabeth had grown intensely aroused, even before Joseph had dismissed Michael so sternly. She slid into the bed and pressed her naked body hard against Joseph. He loved her lavender scent of her fresh scrubbed skin after her shower. He released the sheet which fluttered down over their supine forms. Joseph roped his free arm around Elizabeth's waist and back, pulling her into a deep kiss. She opened her lips accepting his thick tongue, sucking on it eagerly. Her breathing and pulse quickened, and Joseph could feel her nipples stiffen against his muscular chest. 

Joseph broke the kiss to look down admiringly at her breasts which always felt like a three tiered confection to Joseph. Her nipples stood out a cherry red from dark areolas that covered a quarter of her breasts and were in themselves quite pronounced, resembling the nipples of baby bottles -- what rude young men would refer to as "puffies" back in the States. Her nipples and areolas stood out from quite small but very firm and flawless breasts that barely flattened when she lay on her back as she was now, stroking Joseph's head and neck and pushing him down to take them in his lips. 

He moved one leg between hers, pushing them open until his leg stopped against her hip bone and the soft muff covering her pussy. He could not help notice how warm her body was between her thighs. Everything about her was projecting a message of deep desire, from her mouthing, watering with sexual hunger, to her stiffened and now swollen breasts, to the damp heat from her crotch. 

She clearly wanted him and was now happy and comfortable with redefining her marriage according to his terms. Joseph found it remarkable that she had completely dismissed the presence of her husband just outside the bedroom. Encouraged, he bent down to cover her nipple and areola, and sucked eagerly. Her excited moans began almost instantly and she began breathing heavily from her mouth, occasionally biting her lower lip with growing need. Joseph continued to bite her nipple causing her both pain and intensifying her excitement.

With one hand she stroked his neck and head, and with the other found his rapidly swollen cock. She began to stroke his dark phallus back and forth slowly. When she pulled his foreskin back, and felt the warm and wetness of his head which was rapidly coating with precum, her mouth began to water. Her pace of stroking quickened and her hand was now unable to encompass his girth.

Joseph moved back to her lips and kissed her deeply while twisting her already painful nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Expertly, he knew when to relieve the pain, and cupped her breast while he began to alternately, bite, kiss and suck her offered neck. The mixed pleasure and pain were becoming unbearable for her. She desperately needed relief and her body betrayed that. Her mons had become extremely swollen and reddened and her vaginal walls were wet with her natural lubrication. Her breasts were swollen and straining to be touched again. Her hips were moving involuntarily up and down and her thighs were shaking with a visible quiver.

Joseph continued to bite and suck her neck, leaving red tracks against her white skin. She moaned again, then caught her breath as she felt an orgasm build in her lower abdomen. Only one thing could satisfy this deep need inside her. She maneuvered her body squarely under his and he turned slightly so that his huge upturned bounced against her labia, swollen fat with desire.

He stroked her face with one hand as she pulled him into her. He penetrated her pushing her vagina open until just the head and the area just behind it were inside her. In a low voice, he said simply, "We are joined now. You will obey me as an African woman obeys her man." Looking at her left hand, now denuded of wedding bands, he added, "You are as a wife to me. What was before is no longer." 

Rocking his hips slowly back and forth, he let his presence inside her be felt and allowed her to grow comfortable around his girth. Elizabeth wanted more, wanted him deeper, and so she stroked his back and his dark buttocks with her hand, trying to urge him on. She sensed suddenly that we wanted the words from her, and her need was intense. She looked deep into his eyes said in a breathy whisper, "We are joined . . ." pushing her pussy forward, she added after long hesitation, ". . . Husband." 

That was the only signal Joseph needed. He pushed hard and deep into her, stretching her pussy painfully wide. Elizabeth had taken him balls deep and right into her cervix before, but only after minutes of stroking. The suddenness of his stroke caused her to tense and scream in pain. She grabbed his shoulder in a vain effort to push him back a little. Holding his position, he repeated, "And you will obey me." 

She grimaced in pain, and seeing that he withdrew a couple inches relieved the pressure inside her. Feeling the pain subside, her look of pain disappeared and she responded, this time without hesitation, "I will, husband."

Now he began to stroke her slowly and more tenderly and her body began to respond, building again toward the orgasm denied her moments ago. She began to rock her hips rapidly back and forth meeting his thrusts. Balls deep, his cock head bumped her cervical opening several more time, but now it didn't hurt as badly as before. 

Outside the door, Michael heard the screams and timidly tiptoed to the closed door. He listened carefully but could hear only muffled words from the pair. He was beside himself in excitement and could only imagine what his wife was experiencing. He tightly gripped his penis, stroking it back a couple times. He wanted to bring himself to climax, but decided not to in case Joseph might call for him to join them and invite him to fuck Elizabeth. He returned to the armchair and sat patiently.

Elizabeth was now responding stroke for stroke to Joseph's quick thrusts, and struggled to hike both her legs up around Joseph's waist. Her hands were unconsciously rubbing his arms and her head lolled from side to side. Suddenly, she went from plateau climbing through several peaks and her climax came on her suddenly and strongly. Nothing short of an earthquake could have distracted her from cumming, and yet again today, the focus of her world shrank until nothing outside Joseph existed.

Joseph felt her climax, and it caused him to climb toward his own climax. Stroking more slowly, He felt her friction stretch his cock to its full length and grew weak from the delight of her pussy hotly surrounding it. He almost stopped altogether. His cock was ejaculating large amounts of precum at her cervix, softening it and slowly it opened for his large head. Elizabeth's hands gripping his smooth black ass felt him tighten and his climax was almost as sudden and as violent as hers had been. He growled loudly as his balls began to pump hot cum loaded with millions of sperm into her waiting vagina. She felt the liquid heat of his cum explode inside her and that caused her to shudder in delight.

He held his cock against her cervix, jerking it and pressing it against the opening to her womb. He was breathing heavily, but managed to add, "You are mine," then kissed her lips grown cool and dry from the labor of breathing during their vigorous fucking.

He could feel his cock soften slightly and he pulled from her pussy leaving it gaping wide and round. He lowered himself beside her and only then did she realize how funky both of them, but especially Joseph smelled. Ignoring that, she rested her head on her right arm and sighed in contentment, looking blankly at the white plaster ceiling with it's exposed beams.

She lay next to him, her body starting to relax. She could feel a thick little puddle of cum starting to flow into the space between her pussy and her ass cheeks. It was easy she decided, to adjust to this new definition of marriage, and for the moment at least, she was exceedingly happy. After a few more minutes, she looked over at the smiling face of the man who had just given her the climax of a lifetime. 

She smiled back then closed her eyes, and after a bit reflected the promises she had made to him. What did it mean, she wondered, to obey him as an African woman, and why did she promise it so readily? Why did she so happily and readily submit to him in everything since their first coupling? Deciding that these were questions too difficult to answer in her current state of mind, she turned toward Joseph and moved her leg over him. Nestling in his arm, she rubbed his abdomen absent-mindedly, then feeling the wet and matted hair at the root of his cock began rubbing more deliberately. It was a turn on for her to realize that the wetness there was from her pussy, from her having cum multiple times on his cock. The thought made her feel content. His cum inside her felt heavy and very warm and added to her feeling of lightness and contentment as well. She felt a deep need to make Joseph feel as wonderful as she now felt. 

She softly maneuvered her body so that her head rested on his lower abdomen and tentatively bent forward to take his pink head and a few inches of his shaft into her mouth. His body scent, and indeed hers now, was exceptionally funky but her desire to please him and make him feel as wonderful as he had made her feel overcame every other sensation. She began to slowly stroke his semi hard black rod until the large pink mushroom head began to push forward from his foreskin. She pulled it back with her delicate hand and caught the sudden shock of his powerful sexual scent. She wasn't overwhelmed by it. Rather, it added to her contentment -- this was 'her' man's smell; it was 'her' man's cock. It belonged to her. 

She watched her own hand and almost hypnotized, thought how beautiful her white skin looked jerking his huge black shaft back and forth. She moved onto her knees, and delicately straddled his right leg with hers. She pushed her hair away from her face as she bent forward to circle his head with her wide open lips. She moved up and down rapidly, making Joseph's onyx love muscle engorge with blood. 

He now felt hard and warm in her mouth and she alternated licking and sucking, moving from his shaft to his balls, lavishing her tongue and the wetness of her mouth over his funky cock. She felt his fingers running through her hair, then holding her head firmly while he rapidly fucked her mouth up and down. After 10 minutes during which Elizabeth choked several times and struggled to deep-throat him, he growled like an animal and choked her with his cum after several hard jerking spasms. He finally collapsed and released her head. She raised her head, wiping excess cum from her lips with the back of her arm. She swallowed much of it, but there was so much. Again she wiped the excess from her neck and cheeks onto her breasts and onto the sheets.

She snuggled against him and he smiled contentedly. He reached over to brush her hair away from her face and she kissed the dark skin on the back of his hand and his pink palm. He sighed, then commanded her gently, "Call to him. He will join us now."



Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 06



20.

Out in the cozy lounge Michael sat, shifting uncomfortably. He had kept the windows shuttered as though something very clandestine was going on in the flat, thus the small room had grown very warm; warm enough for Michael to sweat even had he not already been in a sexual frenzy. He felt the exquisite torment in every tortured twitch of his slender but stiff little penis. He had been imagining what could have possibly been happening in the bedroom and his mind was fevered by anguish and erotic fascination.

Michael had bitten his nails to the quick. He wanted so desperately to see what might be going on, he was in actual physical pain and he imagined his heart had stopped for a second when he heard his name called from the bedroom. The voice sounded tenuous and soft, almost sounded unwilling, but it was unmistakably Elizabeth's. At first when he hear the soft voice calling, "Michael, Michael" he thought it might be a mistake, but when he heard the second voice, a basso profundo shouting, "Mikey, come in here. Now!" he jumped to his feet. He tiptoed over, and then paused at the closed door. It was the last barrier to his knowing, to his seeing, to his being a part of the experience of what his wife was feeling. Whatever he would see would, he knew, change his life and his relationship with his wife forever. He dithered. Did he really want to know? He had been so quick to try to convince his wife, who had seemed lukewarm to the proposition, to let another man -- this African who was still a mystery to him -- fuck her. He stood bent over, listening when he heard Elizabeth call softly again, "Mikey honey, come on in. Really, honey, come in.

He screwed up his courage and pushed down on the door lever. The door creaked open and he pushed it back. He didn't know what to expect, but the overall assault to his senses was stunning and actually made his hard-on deflate a bit. Oh God, he thought: I did this. I pushed for this to happen.

The first thing he noticed was the overall steamy smell of the room. The rancid scent of sex and of sweat was heavy in the room. He recalled that the prince had not showered between their morning run and claiming Elizabeth in their marital bed. That scent hung in the air overlayed with the obvious hot, organic stench of cum, both male and female. Over that he could smell Elizabeth's familiar body odor, sweet, feminine but very strong and unmistakably hers, and unmistakably bearing the scent she produced after having been fucked.

When he focused on them, he saw her body glistening with beads of sweat, from her forehead to her belly. The sheets had been thrown off them and he could see Elizabeth's body, rosy red at her neck and torso from physical exertion. He noticed bite marks on both sides of her neck and on her breasts. Her left leg was crooked hiding a bit of the smiling prince's abdomen, but Michael clearly saw most of her lover's thick dark member, slick with juices that were obviously his wife's.

Michael's gaze then traveled to Elizabeth's supine body, and he gulped as he could not help but notice how brightly red, and glistening her pussy was and how swollen her labia were, only partly hidden by the swell of her right thigh which was relaxed and flat on the mattress. The obvious signs that Joseph had climaxed inside her was easy to infer, but her soft dark pussy hair, matted with a large blob of cum made the matter certain.

Michael's face shown concern over the evidence of carnage on her body, but she seemed docile and quiet. She was looking away from the door, and away from him as if she couldn't face her husband. Her right arm was thrown over her face covering her eyes. Her body pose bore further silent witness to what she had allowed Joseph to do with her. Clearly, his wife had declared nothing off limits. Joseph pushed her left leg down so he could look at Michael more directly.

Joseph motioned to him and that focused Michael's attention. He saw the young prince's ebony skin, glowing with a sheen of sweat. His body seemed very relaxed and at ease. Even his cock, though still very thick was flaccid and draped over his right leg. "Come over here," he said quietly, then added unnecessarily, "Please, Michael."

Michael didn't know what side of the bed to move to but instinctively moved to Joseph's side. Joseph turned on his right side facing Elizabeth, and loosely draped his left arm over her belly. He bent his head down and began to kiss around her breast. Elizabeth moved her right hand to move him away saying, "Please. Don't. Just stop. Jusef, please."

The prince raised his head, listened intently, seemed to hesitate for a moment then took her nipple into his thick, soft lips, sucking on her breast. She tried to push him away, but he held her strongly in place. In truth, she was hurting from his hungry taking of her body but a bigger concern was that she suddenly did not want Michael here in the room, watching her. She also knew that Joseph had explained that certain further rituals would be necessary to help Michael understand and accept the new realities of their marriage.

After resisting for several seconds, she stopped resisting and relaxed her arms. As they fell back to the bed, Joseph's sucking turned into soft kisses. He lifted his head then motioned for Michael to look at his wife's long, distended nipple and the puffy areola behind it. "Michael, I have consummated our marriage, and our wife does us proud. She gave her body and soul to me with far more passion than I could ever had hoped. Indeed, she brought me to two strong climaxes. And now my friend, it is your turn to reap the benefits."

He turned to Elizabeth, squeezing her left tit and massaging it regularly, which in turn, began to excite her body making her hips move from side to side. He spoke to Michael now and poked Elizabeth, forcing her to watch. "Mikey has pledged his unquestioning devotion to us. There is nothing he would refuse to do for us, and now his wishes to demonstrate his obedience."

The prince shifted his weight to his right side and his flaccid cock fell heavily onto Elizabeth's left thigh. His form was exposed on the left side of the bed now and he beckoned Michael closer. Seeing what her lover was intending, she shook her head and silently mouthed the words, "No. Please Jusef."

He ignored her plea, and said to the waiting Michael, "My friend, come show us you are ours in this marriage. Show your appreciation to our wife."

With that, Joseph pulled on Elizabeth's left knee, spreading her legs wider apart. He motioned to Michael with his free hand and Michael moved tentatively toward his wife. She still had her eyes closed and shook her head slowly back and forth as if to deny what she knew was about to happen. Even so, a tension was building inside her. She scarcely believed Michael would really go down on her aching pussy but the prospect was tickling her libido. She felt Michael clumsily bump against the mattress near her and instinct seemed to take over. Raising her right knee, she slid her right foot outward, and opened her eyes half way.

Michael gulped as he approached her open legs. His heart raced and his slender penis struggled against his pants. He saw how wet and gaped open her vagina was, and how soaked her dark pussy hair was, and suddenly his nerve failed him. He decided that there was no way he could kiss his wife's violated cunt.

Joseph, sensing his hesitation, looked at him sternly, and said only, "Michael . . ." He rested his hand on Elizabeth's left knee, pulling it open in invitation.

Michael's resolve now vanished as he moved onto the bed and his head lowered toward Elizabeth's reddened crotch. The scent of sex was overpowering and as she tensed, her body pushed out a small pearl of snowy white cum. Michael's stomach churned and a look of resignation crossed his face. Confusion and a sense of uncertainty swam through his thoughts. As a kind of afterthought he wondered if he should undress, or what Elizabeth would feel about him after he did this. He started to pull his sweater off, and then unable to make up his mind he instead let his hands drop to support his weight as he scooted slowly between her legs, smelling the rank sweat of her body. 

He held his breath and actually grimaced at what he was about to do, then taking a long look at her swollen, cum matted mons and deeply red inner labia, touched her pussy tentatively with his flattened tongue. He licked up twice, quickly and experimentally before feeling Joseph's hand on the back of his head pushing his nose and face into her round, gaped vagina. The sound of Joseph's voice was somewhat muffled by his wife's thighs, but even so he heard the prince say, "Get in the boy. Enjoy the gift I have left for you, and make our wife really understand your role."

He heard, then felt the vibration of Elizabeth's voice through her body as she said, "God, no. Please let's not do this. For fuck sake! Stop, now." In response, Joseph pushed Michael's head again, and said, "Go to it, boy."

The feeling of cum on his face, in his nostrils, on his lips was overpowering. No longer able to hold his breath, he sucked in air, bringing with it the taste of Joseph's cum, now coating his tongue. Elizabeth tried to push him away, but her hands were suddenly restrained, Michael guessed, by Joseph. Michael scooted parallel between her legs and began licking her in earnest. He hated the taste of male cum, even his own when he had tried this many years before, but there was so much of it -- on her skin, in her pussy.

Overcoming the revulsion, he simply continued to lick and finding her clit lavished his tongue all over it. A change seemed to come about in Elizabeth. He could feel the rigidity leaving her body, and her breath became regular and deep. Her legs relaxed and settled down on top of his shoulders

Experimentally, he made his tongue rigid and began thrusting deep into the round gaping well of her stretched vagina, emulating fucking motions. He wiped his face with one hand as he continued, then looped his hands under her thighs, clutching her ass to get a better purchase. The haunches of her butt and her hips felt soft and wonderful and he began to relish in the intimacy of touching her, of feeling as though she was his alone once more. He squeezed her ass cheeks and that caused his penis to become swollen and painful.

Suddenly, he heard a thundering voice reproach him as Joseph demanded, "No! Take your hands away off her. Your tongue only, cuck." Slowly, as if he had been a naughty child, Michael returned his hands to the mattress and redoubled the pace of his licking. He was resolved to make Elizabeth cum hard for him. He wanted desperately to count for something in her eyes, and not to be tossed aside, especially after the humiliation Joseph had just dealt him. At least he could make her feel something for him this way. He was becoming more tolerant of the heavy mix of their sweat and their cum, and even began to enjoy kissing her this intimately.

Elizabeth lay back through all of this, initially disgusted, but now a feeling of arousal coursed through her body. Her pussy had been left battered and bruised by Joseph -- God, she thought, looking over at his flaccid but still sizeable cock -- how did I take all that inside me. Now Michael's softer gentler kisses and licks were making her feel both soothed and sexually awake again. She still felt bruised at the opening to her cervical ring from the repeated pounding she took there from Joseph's huge mushroom shaped head, but she knew it would fade as it had before. Indeed, in nights to come, she would actually grab his solid ass during sex, pulling him deeper into her womb both out of sexual need and the innate human female biological urge to mate.

Right now though, she was still sensitive and Michael was helping to take her mind off it. She looked down between her legs and reacting out of affection or perhaps just habit, caressed the soft hair at the back of his head over and over. With her other hand she itched her nose, then rested her palm on Joseph's thigh. She thought to herself: Elizabeth, just be happy and give into this, damn it. It's weird, but what could be better than having two men service you sexually. Maybe Joseph's traditions were wiser than she knew.

With that, she decided to get into rhythm with Michael's tongue movements, and ground her hips lightly into his face. Seeing this, Joseph murmured encouragement, "That's it, Elizabeth. Push your womanhood into his face. Do it for me. Harder! Faster!"

She responded to his encouragement by holding the back of Michael's head and face fucking him hard, She could feel his nose pressed against her pubic bone and hear him gasping for breath. Suddenly something ticked over inside her brain and the feelings life they shared before today was replaced by something else, something new. She decided at that very moment to stop worrying about his feelings and to use him from now on as what he wanted to be for her -- her cuck, whose place it was to meet her needs, sexual and otherwise.

She rotated her hips faster as she could feel the possibility of her climax coming. She held Michael's head firmly in place and mashed her clit against his open lips. Unconsciously, her other hand found Joseph's cock and now she was stroking it back into hardness. A minute later, just as Michael thrust his tongue a few inches deep inside her she moaned loudly, and grabbed a clutch of his hair, pulling his from her cunt. Her body tensed as a wave of orgasmic delight rippled through the muscles of her vagina. She breathed through her mouth and time seemed to stand still for her.

A solid minute passed as Michael retreated, still between her legs, but now resting on his knees. He backed off the bed and stood silently, watching her legs softly slide down onto the mattress.

Joseph reached over as she began to regain a sense of the world again. Stroking the side of her face, Joseph leaned over and kissed her open mouthed, but softly. He broke the kiss, then said tenderly, "See, this is working out just as I promised you it would. Look at your cuck and see how satisfied he is."

With much hesitation, she looked through half closed eyes over to her right to where Michael stood patiently, his posture communicating his subservience. His hair was disheveled and his cheeks red from the vigorous face fucking she had given him. She let her eyes travel down his body wondering what she had seen in him for so many years. His hands fidgeted nervously in front of him and Elizabeth could see a wide circular stain at his crotch. She closed her eyes, unwilling to accept that this was what he craved, what he secretly desired. How long, she wondered -- how long had he been a secret cuck, silently waiting for the right opportunity to come along.

Well, she decided, he's a cuck now, then corrected herself, thinking, No, he's MY cuck now, and I can accept that. He might as well get used to it. Turning her attention to Joseph, she caressed the side of his face and offered her mouth to him as he kissed her deeply. Michael stood uneasily, aware that he had cum and wanting nothing more than to become invisible, to blend into the wallpaper. As he started to retreat, he saw Joseph look over at him then say, "Michael, is there something else you wanted?" The prince raised an eyebrow, and then added as if he had forgotten his manners, "Oh wait! Yes of course, there is. Let's call it a . . .", he paused looking thoughtful, then continued, "Let's call it a protocol. I forget myself. Michael, come kiss our wife's feet. Yes, that's a good boy. Both of them. Good boy."

Michael had frowned and he felt himself somehow shrinking and becoming physically smaller, but he did as he was bidden, self consciously kissing his wife's dainty feet. Joseph smiled, and added softly, "And now . . ." Turning onto his back, he presented his feet, and Michael cringed, willing himself to die on the spot. He pressed on through it, kissing both the prince's feet through tight, pursed lips. Elizabeth had wanted to say something; perhaps even to prevent this degradation of her Michael, who after all deserved her love too, and who had been loyally faithful to her for all their marriage, but she sensed a tectonic shift happening, and was unwilling to go against Joseph's will.

As Michael backed away from the prince's body, he stared at the floor unable to meet the gaze of either of the lovers on the marital bed. He turned and slowly shuffled toward the door. Joseph grunted and shook his head, and Michael looked up again as the prince spoke, "My woman, you've made your man -- how do you say in in your country -- 'horny' again for your sweet little white pussy. Turn on your side, girl."

With that, Michael stood transfixed as Elizabeth turned on her right side and Joseph drew her into his body, his hands guiding her by her waist. She voluntarily lifted her left leg over his, and Michael watched the prince rub the tip of his swollen glans up and down her pussy lips from behind. Joseph pulled his foreskin back, thrust slightly forward and the dark pink mushroom head spread her cunt apart. Michael watched the first several inches of his shaft plunge into her, meeting some resistance as her vagina struggled to accommodate his girth. They were together like spoons in the middle of the big bed and Elizabeth began thrusting her butt backwards in small successive movements, seeking to take more of the large black cock in. She rocked back and forth several times and finally Michael could see the shaft, fully emerged from its foreskin, slick and gleaming with her juices.

She fluffed the pillow under her head, getting comfortable for what she knew would be a long and wonderful fuck. She smiled beatifically at her husband, and said softly, "Michael, I still love you very much. Thank you for this, baby."

With that, Joseph roared, smacked her ass cheek, and exclaimed, "Yes, but you love your prince's big black cock inside your very willing pussy even more!" Laughing, he leaned down to kiss the side of her neck, sucking as he did so. Then he wove his big black hand under her dainty white arm and pulled on her left nipple, stretching it out from her breast. To make his point even clearer to both of them, he thrust extra hard from behind causing Elizabeth to gasp sharply I pain as her pussy felt his fullness stretch her and bump against her cervix. Rocking back and forth now in a moderate pace, he whispered to Elizabeth, "Tell Michael how much you love -- how much you need -- your husband's black cock. Tell him."

Breaking his rhythm, he stopped for a moment, waiting for her to speak. Finally she said softly, "Yes, my prince. I love your black cock inside me. I need it. I love . . ." She found herself unable to complete her thought, both because she didn't want to say what she was feeling inside, and because the conflicting desires she felt were tearing at the fabric of her soul. Despite everything, she still loved Michael, not with the pure, animal, sexual need she had felt from the very beginning with Joseph, but with a warm and comfortable feeling that came from his kindness and steadfastness in the years of their marriage before coming to Rome. Alas she had never felt this burning, all consuming need with Michael, but she couldn't bear the thought of life without him. 

She looked wistfully at Michael for a moment then away from him as Joseph resumed his stroking and she felt both sadness and excitement welling up inside her. The room was silent except for the rhythmic squeaking of the bed springs, and the wet slapping of her pussy and her ass against the black body behind her. She closed her eyes and abandoned herself completely to the feeling of complete lust for her man.

The sound and the vision before him were too much for Michael who turned from the room and didn't bother to close the door behind him.




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 06



21.

As his wife made it obvious that she was fully embracing this new concept of their marriage, something he thought he would have had to drag her into, Michael tried to assess what had just happened in their bedroom. He had clear seen (and now could never 'unsee') that his wife had given herself, apparently without a moment's hesitation, to Joseph, and was clearly happy with the arrangement. He could not believe how carefree and unselfconscious she seemed to be, and how easily she seemed to ignore her husband of 18 years. It was as if Michael had vanished, or had simply become a part of the furniture.

The door pull rang and Michael slowly got up from the chair, pulling his sweater down to attempt to hide the fact that he had cum hard from watching his wife fucking. He slowly descended the staircase, and pulling his sweater down one last time, opened the door. A tall, bulky, smartly liveried black man stood in the doorway almost blocking the sunlight completely. Over his one arm were several pair of trousers, shirts, and a pair of sweaters. In his other hand was a large brown leather suitcase. He was so large that the clothing and grip looked almost like scale miniatures.

Unceremoniously, he dumped the lot on Michael, who then struggled to carry the whole mess up the broad stairs. The case was sufficiently heavy that it bumped each stair with a clumping sound. Michael thought to himself that this was an absurd amount of clothing and toiletries. After all, the prince was not moving in permanently.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he scooted the suitcase across the floor and laid the loose clothing on the sofa. He was shocked to see the huge servant coming up the stair behind him with yet another pair of expensive suitcases. The servant took all three of the cases and stacked them by the entrance to the bedroom. 

Savoring a long, lingering stare at his master and the white woman who lay facing the door, he licked his broad lips and rubbed his crotch absent-mindedly. Turning away reluctantly, he bumped into Michael, then laughed heartily and clapped Michael on the back a few times. He winked at the downcast face of the white husband then licked his lips again, this time noisily. In another moment, he bounded down the staircase, and slammed the door behind him.

Michael was even more confused and upset now, and simply sat on one of the suitcases, staring blankly at his feet. After several minutes, he heard Elizabeth moaning the bedroom. Her tone was breathy and in a staccato voice she simply kept repeating rapidly, "Oh, Oh, Oh. Oh yeah, oh yeah."

He stood up from the suitcase and tentatively peaked in again. He could see Elizabeth's body, her white skin rosy with the exertion of the several minutes of fucking. Her left leg was draped back over Joseph's thigh and left arm held his head tight to her neck as he continued to suck and kiss her. With each thrust, his powerful body slapped noisily into her soft ass cheeks and her torso tightened. Michael knew her patterns of arousal and climax well enough to know she was really close now.

Elizabeth's pulse quickened and her belly tightened as she heard Joseph begin to groan. She squeezed his cock all along its length with her stretched vaginal muscles. She realized just then how much she loved hearing him groan as he neared his climax. Joseph growled loudly now and she ground her body back against him, bumping his pelvis with her supple ass. Their pace picked up rapidly as she sought to bring him off and feel the jetting of his cum and the pounding of his cock head.

Outside the room, Michael watched his wife move her hips backwards, hard against the cock inside her as she came with a shuddering quickness. She was silent for several seconds then began softly mewling like a happy kitten.

She turned her head back over her left shoulder and her lips found Joseph's. She kissed him deeply and felt his broad tongue sliding across hers. Their lips smacked loudly as he covered her mouth repeatedly with kisses.

Joseph broke the kiss, and closed his eyes tightly. Growling loudly, his hips began bucking forward quickly. His left hand moved from his lover's nipple, now cherry red and pointing straight out, to her tender white belly. She felt herself filled with a sudden flood of liquid heat from his spasming cock, and she also felt an inexplicable pride in her womanhood, in the way she had obviously satisfied her man, in the way she could bring him to orgasm multiple times. 

Joseph stiffened his cock and pumped his cock head an extra two or three times into the softened opening of her cervical ring, propelling millions of his potent sperm into her most intimate reaches. It was beginning to become a part of their fucking ritual and she actually looked forward to feeling it. When she did, she closed her eyes and smiled a contented smile.

After several quiet seconds, Joseph's softened cock slid from her pussy like a long serpent and it took a long few seconds for it to fully emerge. He held Elizabeth's leg up, still resting on his huge thigh as he slid his dark hand up her inner thigh and straddled her clit with his fore- and middle fingers, rubbing the sides of it lazily.

As he watched Joseph's dark hand slide up to cup his wife's soft white belly, Michael winced in the dual agony of knowing how much this turned him on and the fact that he had helped lure his wife into this. Even now his slender penis strained uncomfortably against the soiled brief he still wore. He wanted desperately to be inside his wife's swollen red pussy, which even from a distance was clearly gaping wide open. In fact he ached now. It was ironic, he thought for him to be able to have a second erection in a day, and to see Elizabeth open her thighs for more than one fucking. In their entire married life, their sex had become routine, always "once and done" and then rolling over to go to sleep. Today it was obvious that it was not by choice at least as far as Elizabeth was concerned.

Elizabeth lowered her leg and stretched lazily. Joseph kissed her back and neck and pushing himself away sprang off the bed. he reached down to grab her wrist, and pulling her toward him said, "Come, my woman. Let us shower and go for a late lunch on the piazza."

Together they stepped lightly into the bathroom and out of Michael's sight. He heard his wife's lilting laughter in the bathroom, and then heard Joseph mumble, "No my lady. No bidet for you! The very thought of washing my sperm from your womb is repugnant."

Elizabeth mumbled something else and laughed out loud this time. Michael could hear the shower spray coursing through the pipes. Dejectedly he sat back onto the chair, and then an idea seemed to come to him. Stealthily, he crept into the bedroom and pulling his pants down began to stroke his erection. The heady scent of sex permeated the room still and it excited him to know that his wife had just been fucked there. Closing his eyes, he thought back to some of the things he had seen and heard. He stroked faster and harder as he heard the lovers playing in the shower. He heard a loud fleshy noise as one of them apparently slapped the other's ass. His balls were tight, almost painfully so as he suddenly squirted out a weak stream of almost transparent cum onto the bed. He quickly grabbed clean briefs to slip on and hopped out of the bedroom with his pants around his ankles.

A half hour later he heard the lilting laugh of his beloved wife and the deeper bass of the man who now had laid claim to her emerging from the bathroom. He jumped up from the chair when he heard her shriek and arrived at the threshold of the bedroom just in time to see Joseph wrestle her onto the bed. Their bodies were freshly washed and Elizabeth's long hair was still wet and fell down over her shoulders in thick shiny waves. Her skin shone with a rosy pink hue, and the contrast between her color and the ebony darkness of the man whose biceps she now gripped with her delicate fingers made Michael's sore penis twitch. 

She playfully resisted the prince as he pinned both her arms back against the mattress and his body fell heavily upon hers. Joseph tried to kiss her, but she kept weaving her head from side to side to tease him. Michael was worried that the tall black man might be hurting or worse yet, forcing his slender wife to do something against her will. Frowning with genuine concern, he started to move toward the bed then stopped abruptly when Elizabeth looked up and saw him then laughingly implored him, "Michael, help me. Come rescue me from this wild animal! How can you let him ravage your poor denfenceless wife like this?"

Joseph looked over his shoulder at Michael and laughed openly, his white teeth standing out against his darkness and his broad smiling lips expressing his delight at the slender wife's playful protests. Shaking his head, he exclaimed, "Don't even think of it, Mikey; this lively bitch is mine!" He laughed loudly, then released her arms and tickled the white wife's ribs until she laughed so hard she couldn't breathe. 

Her arms suddenly free, she pounded against his muscular chest as if to push him away. Finally yielding to his superior strength, her arms fell away from his chest and her resistance collapsed. 

Joseph kissed her neck and her hands stroked his back and then slid down his strong back to cup and squeeze his firm black ass. She squirmed against him and moaned with little mewling sounds, but suddenly he rose and pushed away from the bed. "Arise wench, get ready now. We must replenish our strength! Time for lunch. Your prince commands you. Don't you agree Michael?"

Michael had been mesmerized by what he had witnessed in the last couple hours, but hearing the prince's forceful voice snapped him out of his daze. He cleared his throat, and responded, "Uhhh, yeah. Yes . . . Your, Uhhh, Majesty."

Elizabeth protested, frowning and making a little pout. "No, no," she protested. "Come back in bed. Please, please," she whined. She reached forward for his arm, but instead found his leg as he moved backward. She moved onto her stomach pulling him back then rose to kiss the dark skin of his belly. She covered him with wet kisses and her mouth descended to nuzzle and lick his balls. Her eyes looked up pleadingly, and she began to move toward the purple head of his suddenly aroused cock. Elizabeth felt sure she had him in her power now, but Joseph push her head back and motioned her to get up. She pouted again and said, "Must I beg you? Do you tire of me so quickly?"

Joseph laughed a hearty bellow and replied, "My body makes it obvious that I am not tired of you and as much as I enjoy your begging, right now, I command you two to get ready. Let us be gone!" With that he motioned for Michael to bring him something to put on and Elizabeth, who was normally so prim and proper rose lazily and reluctantly from the bed. She walked over the to wardrobe as she selected a set with a gauzy top and a green mid-thigh skirt. She looked over at Joseph and Michael and commented, "Gentlemen, this wardrobe is not big enough for everything that Joseph brought over. Michael, you're going to have to move some of your things into the spare room. Can you do that after lunch?"

She was genuinely unaware of the effect her words would have of the bruised and tender psyche of her husband, newly cuckolded by her, but Michael was speechless, his mouth agape. He turned from the doorway, and his stomach was queasy from trying to absorb everything he had experienced already today. He shook his head and grabbed a couple items from the pile and carried them into the bedroom, and grudgingly laid them on a side chair.

22.

Ten minutes later, they walked three abreast, Elizabeth's arms looped through those of her men on either side of her. When they emerged onto the Piazza Navona, Joseph mentioned a favorite place in the direction of the Pantheon, so they veered gaily toward the Via degli Staderari. A steady breeze was blowing and threatened to show all of Rome the lacy thong under Elizabeth's short green skirt. Normally it would have upset her, but today she could care less. She was with the two men she loved – yes, she was now capable of believing she could love two men at the same time, and that one of those men was a sexually prolific and charismatic black man from Africa who had the power to transform her totally. Joseph made her feel things no other man, including (and especially) the man society recognized as her husband, have ever made her feel.

As they entered the outdoor seating area of the bistro, she smiled to herself and tugged Joseph's arm a little tighter as she thought to herself that it wasn't just the incredible and numerous climaxes, although she was beginning to become really addicted to them, but so many other things as well. She loved the way his dark skin looked and felt against hers, the way he kissed, the way he somehow seemed to 'own' her. Her smile deepened and a thrill ran through her body she admitted to herself she never thought she could possibly feel such alien feelings, both physically and emotionally.

A tiny serving girl seated them under a bright yellow umbrella and seemed to be taking stock of the situation, perhaps trying to decide which of the men the pale white woman was with. The way the black man seemed to hold the woman's attention settled the matter for the server and she gestured for them to sit together on one side of the table and for the small white man to sit on the other. 

She was pleased that she had guessed right when she saw the black man overlay his massive hand on top of the woman's. She noticed too that none of the party wore wedding bands, so that settled the matter conclusively. She found herself staring at the black man's face and then idly taking in his entire body, stopping only when she saw his powerful thighs and something filling his trouser leg for the first 25 centimeters. She grew flushed when she realized the black man had caught her staring, and clumsily dropped menus on the table then beat a hasty retreat to get a bottle of still water for the table.

When she returned with an ice bucket and still water, she wondered whether the slender white woman probably had a difficult time accommodating him, but then she remembered that her mother had told her that the African men stretched their women out "down there" and for that reason she must never let a black man touch her. Her hand shook as she placed the water and spread napkins on their laps. She thought that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to be stretched out down there if this man were doing the stretching! In any case, the white woman looked very happy, laughing and speaking in a bubbly voice. Retreating again from the table, she thought to herself that perhaps she should be a bit friendlier to some of the many Africans who seemed to dine there and were from the embassies surrounding the area.

Elizabeth took both men's hands as Joseph chatted idly about taking Elizabeth to the upcoming embassy function. She smiled tenderly at Michael when she saw the sad look on his face. She rubbed his thin forearm then patted the back of his hand. That she still loved Michael was beyond question and she wanted to reassure him with a gesture. She felt he was weak and easily manipulated into opening their marriage to her black lover, but she had already come to realize that much of what Joseph had explained about alpha males, their rights and their ability to dominate both the women they selected and other men, felt correct, and probably had always been -- even in "civilized" white society. She dimly remembered from her college literature the practice of Prima Nocta, in which English nobleman in the past exercised an unquestioned sexual right to take a man's wife for himself on her wedding night. Was her current situation any different to that, and was what she was doing really wrong in any way?

A sommelier brought a bottle of red wine to the table, impressed by the selection. Ordinarily he would have offered the taste for approval to the white man, but something told him that the tall black man was the important one at this table.

Joseph squeezed her thigh and told her to have a taste, but somehow her stomach felt a little queasy when she thought of alcohol. A sudden chill came over her as a thought unbeckoned, one she hadn't wanted to even consciously acknowledge. Was the queasiness just a case of nerves or was it something else, something she had no desire whatever to acknowledge. A case of the nerves was certainly a possibility. She was now ready to admit to herself she was beginning to fall in love with Joseph – and that he had already displaced Michael and the center of her sexual universe – but it upset her to consider the question of whether her husband's expulsion from their bedroom was a permanent thing even when they had to return to America. No matter what though, she certainly didn't want his baby inside her.

Suddenly she felt the overwhelming urge to find a toilet and excusing herself bolted from the table, knocking over her chair as she did so. She bumped open the toilet door, banging into the server girl who was just finishing up washing her hands. In the tiny lavatory she became sick and began to retch into the commode. She vomited the few remnants of her tiny breakfast with Joseph.

She laughed to herself when she stood back up and noticed that the serving girl had gotten a wet cloth from the kitchen. She gestured to the girl, and explained, "I was overcome with a sudden case of the nerves." She gratefully accepted the cloth and wiped her face and lips.

The serving girl nodded and responded in halting English, "Si, my mama she get like that every time papa puts a new bambino inside her. Your black man, he plant his seed inside you, yes?" 

Suddenly, there it was; the "something else" gnawing at the back of her brain. She turned even paler and refused to consider the relevance of what the girl had said, and so of course it forced itself on her as a flood of questions. When was her last period? What if she was already pregnant with Joseph's child inside her? Was this a price she would have to pay for the joy she felt? Could she go through with bringing his black child into the world, knowing the devastating consequences, the ridicule she and poor Michael would have to face? What about their daughter?

She shook her head violently and told the girl in an angry voice, "No, no way. I am not pregnant. He's not even my . . . " She had started to say 'husband', then pulled back the word. Elizabeth, she told herself, he really IS your husband in a way you know. You and Michael both agreed as much. You both bought into the deal Joseph offered. If you are pregnant, it is with you consent and enthusiastic participation.

She wobbled back through the bistro and put on a happy face for the men looking up from the table at her. She slid in beside Joseph bumping his body with hers. He felt solid, warm and reassuring. Just his presence made her relax and she put her head on his strong shoulder. There was no way, she thought, that she could possibly be pregnant. Despite her fertility, they simply hadn't been together enough times for her to catch. It had taken her what felt like forever to get pregnant by Michael. Just relax and enjoy this perfect day she told herself -- and be more careful in the future.

Her mood brightened as a large antipasto plate emerged from the kitchen. They dug into the dish with gusto and each one occupied with their separate thoughts. Elizabeth's appetite returned. She felt much improved and felt that surely she must have dodged a bullet.

Joseph could smell the faint odor of throw up on Elizabeth's breath when she returned to the table and inwardly he was smiling. He felt certain that she had experienced a bout of morning sickness and thus he congratulated himself on his sexual prowess. Looking across at Michael, he thought of how he had dominated both him and the beautiful woman who clearly preferred him to her western mate. His cock twitched with sudden excitement as he considered the possibility that he had planted his seed deep in the womb of the woman looking at him and rubbing her free hand on his thigh.




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 06



Michael looked over at the pair and his heart skipped a beat as he felt a renewed sexual tension from the sight of his wife of 18 year openly flirting with the incredible specimen of a man. My god, he thought to himself, how hot was this? He thought for a moment about how much he might have lost, but the excitement from seeing them together in this seemingly non-sexual way was almost too much to bear. He swallowed hard, thinking back to all he had seen earlier in the day, but this open yet seemingly innocuous display of affection by his wife for the obviously different man beside her was as sexy as any of that. 

He had concerns, serious ones even, about the state of their relationship, but he was unable to tear his eyes from the interracial couple. He had never wanted Elizabeth more in their 18 year together. He wanted to grab her hand and rush her into some back alley and ravage her sexually. The irony was that now she was the one thing he couldn't have.

The sun had climbed to its full height just then and the day seemed unnaturally bright. Elizabeth reflected that the day couldn't be more perfect. A ringtone played on Michael's iPhone and he looked down in surprise. "Elizabeth," he said, "It's our daughter."

They both frowned, and she grabbed the device from Michael. "Honey, This is Mommy. What time is it there?"

The tinny voice on the other end of the call said, "Mom, everything is just fine. It's ummm, like 7 o'clock here -- first thing in the morning. Auntie Diane just wanted me to call you to tell you that she's treating me to a surprise visit during spring break. Isn't that exciting? Couldn't you just die?"

Elizabeth sat silent, with her mouth agape. Yes, she decided, at this moment, I probably could just die. What the hell were they going to do? How the hell cold they possibly explain what had been happening in their lives to their impressionable, private school daughter.

For the second time today, she suddenly lost her appetite.



Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 07



23.

Elizabeth sat back in the weathered green wooden side chair overlooking the lounge window and brought up her knees to her small chest so that her heels rested on the edge of the seat. When she and Michael returned home from lunch, she had slipped off her shoes and her skirt and top and now after donning her favorite faded college tee shirt and cotton panties, sat idly contemplating her toes. She decided that her nails needed to be repainted in the vibrant red Joseph favored, but in truth her thoughts were a million miles away.

The call from her sister Diane and her daughter Karen, telling her that they had arranged a surprise graduation trip to Italy had been a psychic shock of titanic proportions for her and probably Michael as well, forcing them to face up to their complete immersion in what had become an almost alternate reality. Since their return home, he had been sullen and withdrawn and busied himself with housework. She caught him sweeping the same area in their narrow kitchen over and over and knew he must be deep in thought as well.

At that instant, She wanted nothing more than to undo the last few weeks and pretend everything that had transpired -- all the pulse pounding excitement, the sexual awakening inside her -- had never happened. She wished it, but couldn't wish away an aching feeling of need inside her. Certainly she hadn't felt this kind of burning passion in her loins for years with Michael and running her fingers through her hair, she wondered whether it was simply the lustful feeling common with every new sexual relationship or something deeper. No, she decided, this was not simply a whimsical affair. She knew it and more importantly, felt it with every fiber of her being. If she closed her eyes, she could still smell, taste, and almost feel Joseph's presence. Thinking about him, brought a tingling between her tightly pressed thighs, and her nipples stood out hard from suddenly swollen little breasts.

She massaged her feet then hugged her knees tighter to her body to hide her arousal. Although she hardly ever wore or even needed, a bra in what she referred to as "tee shirt and panties mode", she suddenly wished that she had decided to dress in something less revealing. She didn't want Michael to become aroused right now, and she knew that appearing scantily clad in front of Michael was one of those little unspoken signals that couples develop to indicate their interest in sex.

Right now it was the last possible signal she wanted to transmit to Michael. Elizabeth looked over toward her husband who saw caught her eye and offered a shy, almost self-deprecating smile in return.

She had to admit to herself that the sexual awakening that blossomed inside because of Joseph was very seductive and compelling. She decided she must have a submissive streak she never knew about before him. Surrendering everything had been so easy for her to do, but in her own defence, she had to admit Joseph was pretty damned easy to surrender to. She smiled to herself as she considered how incredibly self assured and dominant he was, not just with her but with everyone. He really was born to rule.

She idly picked at a hangnail on her little finger as she thought about how dominant he was in bed as well. She regarded her fingers intently. It was a childhood habit almost forgotten, but which seemed to claim her when she was most worried. And she was a study in worry today. Why did she yield so readily to him, from the first night they slept together? She knew even before then that she would be putty in his hands, completely malleable and bending to his will, his desires. He was so incredibly dominant and it was so wonderful having a strong man make all the decisions, provide all the directions, command her in every aspect of her life. None of the men in her life, not even any of the men in their social circle back in Indiana, were even remotely like him.

She loved pleasing him and trying to fulfill his every wish. Her one concern was the possibility of an unwanted pregnancy, and she was reasonably certain that had not happened. It was the one wish she needed to deny him and would fight hard not to give into. She was feeling uncomfortable in the knowledge that her period was late but knew that any number of factors could be responsible for that, not the least of which was the emotional roller coaster she now found herself riding. The smallish chemist around the corner stocked neither home pregnancy kits nor contraceptive, and she was too embarrassed and frightened to go to the farmacia over on the via Corse.

In any event, she was determined that the whole relationship with Joseph needed to end, however painful that might be for her. The fact that her sister and daughter were now definitely coming to visit was like a tidal wave threatening to wipe out her comfortable notions of what was normal and acceptable. Squeezing her eyes shut to rid herself of the image of Joseph and his gorgeous body, she decided suddenly that it all had to end. She would have to return to the barren sexual and sensual wilderness she had known almost her whole life before the past month. Diane and Karen's visit would rebalance the whole equation, bringing her and she hoped, Michael, back to their senses.

She watched the sun disappear behind the tall block of pink and buff colored flats across the street and the room took on a subtler, softer hue. She looked over at Michael and he seemed disappear into the shadow of the pantry. She held out her hands to decide whether to reach for a nail file and with a sudden start noticed the lack of a wedding band. She unbent her form, stretched and shuffled lazily to the flowerpot where she remembered Joseph tossing them. Looking down, she could see nothing and looked again at Michael.

Suddenly, she looked at him as if for the first time, as if in a new light, and perhaps it was just a trick of the light, but was it possible, she wondered -- did he seem to be physically smaller, to have shrunk somehow? Perhaps, or perhaps not, she thought. In any case he came across as a ghost rendered in sepia tones. He seemed to lack the charm and appeal she once saw, or perhaps only thought she saw, in him. Even so, she told herself, he was her husband and they were inexorably linked as life partners. This is the life we have chosen for ourselves after all. She managed a brave smile when he looked over at her, and he smiled back brightly, showing the first signs of happiness she had seen in him all day.

"Michael, honey. Where did our wedding bands disappear? Have you seen them?"

Michael responded, "No Lizzie, I have no idea. The last time I saw them, they were right there in the flowerpot. And you know fucking well how they got there."

She frowned angrily and remarked, "Well damn it, we need to find them pretty damn quick wouldn't you say?"

Michael looked back at her with a blank stare and shrugged, both palms upward.

"Honey, come over here and sit with me on the sofa," she said in a soft conciliatory voice. She slid onto the sofa and folded her legs under her lotus position, and patted the cushion next to her. Michael propped the broom against a cabinet, and plopped heavily down next to her. He was noticing that of late, she had a much more commanding style when she spoke to him. He decided, that was perhaps a result of her fucking Joseph, and her changed regard for him. He wasn't sure he liked it, but oddly felt a tingle in the pit of his stomach and perhaps a bit lower even.

"Michael darling, you know that I only agreed to be with Joseph because you demanded it, right? You pushed the idea -- and pushed me -- hard. You were like a dog in heat over it -- you know you were, and you are even at this moment. You put us in a place where I found myself unable to refuse. Everything I have done has been to please you. Admit that, honey. You agree this is true, right?"

He clenched his jaw tightly. A dull headache was beginning to nag at his temples as he nodded in agreement with what he believed to be the truth. Although he didn't actually set Elizabeth up with Joseph until after they had already coupled, he believed that he did and for him, that was all that counted. Elizabeth saw his eyes take on a far away look; he suddenly seemed deep in reflection. 

Michael's eyes did indeed have that 'thousand yard stare,' as though he was oblivious to his wife or anything else in the world. He was wracked by a queasy feeling in his gut that Elizabeth's feelings for Joseph had transcended simple sexual lust; that perhaps she was in love with him. At the very least she was responding to Joseph in a way that had been giving off subtle clues detectable to someone who had been in a long-term relationship with her and could 'read' subtle unspoken cues. He thought to himself that the clues were all there -- the way her eyes widened in her black lover's presence; the musk of nervous perspiration when he was near; the way she brushed her hair back behind her ear and smiled shyly at him with downcast eyes. He had seen all these and more and knew them because once upon a distant past, they were signals she gave off only for him. 

He was suddenly afraid that Elizabeth would no longer have any need for him in the traditional marriage they had both bought into so many years ago. Weighed against these very real fears was the uncontained sexual high he got from having watched them the one time he was granted the privilege of watching his wife open her legs for Joseph. Seeing a powerful black man fucking his wife, watching her hips buck wildly in response to his thrusts had caused his heart to pound wildly, and his cock to ache with painful need of release. His need to go further with this incredibly erotic experience both sickened him and excited him like nothing else in his life ever had. It was a palpable feeling of erotic pleasure at seeing what a slut Elizabeth was in the hands of another man and the pain of losing out his place of primacy with his wife.

Joseph had said that some men were born to be cuckolds and now Michael knew he must be one of them. In a flash of clarity he recalled that even as a teenager he would fanaticize about his girlfriend of the moment cheating on him. He also knew that Joseph must be right about Western social norms being against the natural order, and indeed he had witnessed things on his last trip to Joseph's tribal lands that confirmed that women were happier with the kind of arrangement Joseph had proposed for them. 

Except for the fluke of his wife meeting the African, who was ironically a member of the family with whom he was negotiating to rip the mineral wealth of their homelands in the forested wilds of Nigeria and Cameroon, he would never have had his eyes opened and his understanding of the world expanded in this way.

He swallowed hard and slapped his knees with his open palms. His mind was made up. He decided that he needed to recapture the role of the dominant male in her life. He brushed his hands through his hair, stalling before saying what they both knew needed to be said. Finally, he took a deep breath, and looking directly into Elizabeth's dark green eyes, he began to speak to her in the authoritative voice he used in professional negotiations. "Elizabeth," he began, "We can't let this . . ." He fumbled for a word, "This 'fling' erase everything we mean to one another; everything we owe our daughter and our family. I was tricked into wanting this arrangement by my own lust, and my own spineless acceptance of Joseph's dominant personality. This is a hard thing to admit, but I think I was getting pretty convinced by his alternative views on marriage and the world. But really, Elizabeth, that's a world that 's so foreign to us, to anyone civilized really. "

He paused for a moment for effect, then continued, ". . . Can you imagine being in his bed, servicing him -- or worse each one of his brothers -- every night, perhaps even being forced to bear their children!" He paused again and silence filled the space between them. Involuntarily, his neck and face began to redden. Although his conscious brain was thinking one thing, his body was reacting quite differently. A sudden mental image of Elizabeth, her belly swollen with a black baby, bred to her by Joseph or one of the other alpha males in his tribal family caused Michael's modest little member to stiffen. His groin felt suddenly sweaty. As if to banish the thought, he swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds.

His words had an impact on Elizabeth, who had been having trouble thinking beyond how the raw, animal sexual passion she shared with Joseph. In truth, they had only been together perhaps a dozen times, but it already felt so natural to her. Joseph had awakened something inside her that she only barely knew existed. She had heard of other women being consumed by passion for a man in this way, but scarcely would have believed only a few months ago that she could be one of those lucky women. As she thought back to the events of the morning, her crotch ached both from the pounding Joseph had given her and from a sudden desire to feel him there again. She thought back to when she was a little girl and her dad would take the brood to the beach on the Mississippi Gulf shores. She would stay in the water playing all day; playing longer than her siblings; playing so long that even after her parents put her to bed, she could still feel the power of the waves rocking her legs and her little body as though she was still trying to stand up against the surf

Michael wanted so much for them to be a part of this lifestyle but it would mean the end of everything -- the entire basis of their life together and the social status they had achieved over the course of their time together. That would be impossible to give up, he told himself. He shook his head and closed his eyes tightly to bring himself back into the here and now.

Abruptly he spoke out again in a strong voice saying, "No, no, we can't do this! I mean, consider the logical conclusion of this if we were to allow ourselves to take the next step. We would never -- could never -- allow that to happen. It would mean the end of our social life as we know it. Our social circle, our family, everyone would reject us. We would be outcast. I am stepping in to take command of this situation. I forbid you to have any contact whatever with this, this . . . I don't have the words for him, but this 'savage'. He's really an animal, you know, Elizabeth. I have seen the way his brothers live and rule in Africa and you haven't. They really are savages at their core. . No, I absolutely forbid you from seeing him, or . . . well, you know. I don't think I have to say it."

Elizabeth was devastated by the sudden show of strength by Michael. Where had this sudden assertiveness come from? She felt conflicted about her ebony lover, but was hard put to argue against Michael's assertions. Their life was back in Indiana, not in Africa, not even here in Rome. What was she thinking? Even though her conscious brain was telling her one thing, the rest of her being was sending entirely different messages. They fought the better part of the afternoon and evening and slept apart for the next two weeks. When she left Michael at the airport for his month long trip to Nigeria and Cameroon, their embrace was perfunctory and devoid of any passion. In truth she didn't feel she would miss him, but driving the hire car back to their flat she felt a pang of regret and sadness at his being gone. Seeing the vivid neon green cross of the farmacia on via Corse reminded her that she needed to purchase a home pregnancy test, but she couldn't bring herself find out for certain. She argued herself out of stopping on the grounds that finding a place to park would be impossible this time of day. A rude horn blaring from one of the ever-present Fiat 500s behind her made her forget the chore altogether.

24.

June was passing quickly and Diane and Karen were due at the beginning of July. Although summer weather in Rome features stifling heat and bright cloudless days, from June right through to early September, today was almost cool by comparison, so Elizabeth rubbed the sleep from her eyes and decided to finally leave the confinement of the flat. She felt uncharacteristically light and carefree. She had been depressed for the better part of a month, since Michael laid down his edict. She had ignored every attempt at communication from Joseph. She didn't respond to him in any way -- no phone calls, no tweets, no email. The first week, when she tearfully told him over Skype that she needed to make a clean break from him, he refused to believe her. At first, he came by for several days in a row, pounding his fists loudly on her door. For a month now, she barely emerged from the flat, and then only after scanning the street to make sure Joseph or any of his retinue were keeping tabs on her. 

When it finally seemed that she had gotten through to Joseph, she thought she had managed the breakup; badly to be sure, but she had managed. Michael was stuck in Nigeria, his stay extended by trouble securing the mines and two of the largest oil refineries against scattered but frequent attacks by militant groups. 

To lighten her mood, Elizabeth decided a shopping trip would help. She showered and couldn't help noticing that her waist and hips seemed a little more filled out than usual but attributed that to eating too much comfort food, and to be sure, comfort food was the name of the game almost everywhere in southern Italy. She thought she might settle on a salad for lunch, dismissed the idea, thinking she would have plenty of opportunity to walk off the extra calories today. 

Dropping her towel, she inspected her body and decided she looked pretty good for a 40 year old. Sitting on the bed in the nude, she painted her toenails bright lavender. While they were drying, a sudden wave of remembrance and regret washed over her. She had finished painting her right toes, and her right leg was still bent and up on the bed. Impulsively she banged her head against her knee to force out the memory of Joseph. What they had done just wasn't right and breaking things off before they could go to the next stage was the right thing to do. At least that's what the voice in her head kept silently repeating. Screwing the top back on the nail varnish and tossing it aside on the duvet, she hugged her knee with both her arms. The silent voice kept saying, "What the hell. Why am I feeling like this?" 

Nails finally dried, she decided that she needed to get going. She looked through the armoire for something dressy but not too lavish; maybe a little sexy even. In flipping through the dresses, she spied an outfit Joseph had bought for her. She suddenly flashed back to modeling it for him, and how he instantly said she must have it. She smiled and tingled slightly at the memory of the afternoon that followed. Walking resolutely across the Piazza Navona, she arrived on the via Corse in ten minutes to look for a taxi. The bright green cross of the farmacia caught her eye. She stopped in her tracks and muttered under her breath, "Oh what the fuck. It's better to know for sure isn't it?"

She stepped into the mostly empty premise and mimed a request for a home pregnancy test making the sign of a swollen belly for the chemist. He leered at her for a moment, waggling his eyebrows, then disappeared for a few seconds. After shoving 20 euros at him, she asked where the toilettes were. He winked at her and smiled wickedly then gave her a key and pointed toward the back of the store. She walked shakily toward it and after fumbling with the key opened the door, its squeaky hinges grating on her nerves. 

The lavatory was filthy and she resolved not to sit on the seat and touch as little as possible. She ripped the package open, hiked her dress up, pulled her panties down to her ankles and squatted to piss on one of the sticks. She missed badly the first time peeing on her fingers and her cursing echoed in the empty room. The second time she hit it squarely and immersed the stick. Holding it away from her as if it was a dangerous weapon, she waddled over to the sink and rinsed her fingers thoroughly. She cursed to herself, "Fuck it Lizzie; fucking pull yourself together!" her words again echoed off the high walls 




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 07



She wiped her pussy, pulled up her panties and began staring at her watch. The digits seemed to be stuck, but finally the result revealed itself. Again she spoke out loud, "Well, fuck it. Now you know." Tossing the remaining sticks at the trash and missing she pulled open the door and tossing the key at a hapless clerk hurried out of the store. She was lucky enough to catch a cap within a minute and they were off.

After the usual white knuckled taxi drive she arrived close to the Spanish Steps and alighted to walk the several short Roman blocks to the boutique. When she emerged from the taxi, she was a vision of tasteful sexuality delighting the three or four men idling in the shade of the buildings lining the street. She wore a pale violet dress with beading to the hem, plunging neckline and waist. It covered her butt, but descended only two inches lower. Her thighs and ass were firm though so the look, perhaps more suited to a younger woman still wore well on her. Her shoes, four inch pumps, were deep violet patent leather. Her normally milky white legs looked even whiter as she wore sheer white stockings, trimmed at the top in white lace, a detail only visible when the rare breeze wafted across the piazza adjacent to the Spanish Steps.

In the distance, a black Mercedes -- familiar to Elizabeth if she had been looking in the right direction -- slowly paralleled her movements at a distance. Sitting in the back and hidden by tinted glass, Joseph drank in the vision of her and his heart beat faster. He of course knew the outfit very well. He reflected and realized that he had purchased every stitch of clothing visible on Elizabeth, and, he wagered, those not visible as well. He smiled wistfully as he thought of those trim legs leading up to her firm ass, and how tightly her calves, until recently, would wrap around his waist as he pushed deep inside her. Closing his eyes, he could almost feel her vaginal wall stretching the skin of his rigid cock.

He made his decision and quickly and quietly moved to within a few feet of her. Finally seeing him standing behind her, a silent shadow reflected in the handbag store's windows, she bit her lower lip, not knowing what to say.

In an echo of their first meeting, he broke the ice saying in his impecable English accent, "So where are you headed, lovely Elizabeth from Indiana?" Just as the first time they met, her heart skipped a beat. She smiled a crooked smile and her eyes misting slightly replied, "I'm shopping, just to lift my spirits. Your brothers are keeping my husband so busy he hasn't had time to come home in over a month." She placed special emphasis on the words "my husband" when she spoke, hoping he would understand it as a pointed rebuke.

Instead, he brushed it off and replied much as he had at their original meeting, "Great, I am shopping too." 

She smiled a wry smile, and asked, "For a handbag?" She hoped to catch him in an awkward moment, but when he answered, "Elizabeth, it doesn't matter. I really just want to be with you, so whatever you're shopping for is fine with me."

Her heart caught and she was speechless. Regaining her composure, she stuttered, "Joseph, I . . . I can't . . . No, we can't . . ."

He grasped her arm and stared at her, "Elizabeth, come have lunch with me. That's all I ask. Nothing more. My boat has just been put back in the water from the boatyard, and I want you to see it. I'd like your opinion on the refitting." He started to tug insistently on her arm. She shook her head no, but knowing her body language, he knew she was wavering, so he tugged again. "Please, Come on. Just come see it. Please?"

He took her by the wrist, an action with symbolic meaning for the both of them, and tugged her to the waiting limousine. His bodyguard / chauffeur Harun, a muscular dark ex-soldier with numerous scars on his face and arms, whisked the door open for them. As always, he chewed on an ever-present toothpick, but his face was otherwise impassive and unreadable. Harun had always creeped her out with his penetrating stare and shadowy presence and she had caught him once watching them fuck, though he thought he was safely hidden in the shadows outside Joseph's bed chambers. Now chilled by the memory, plus his unsmiling gaze and the rush of air conditioning, there were goose bumps on her skin. She absent-mindedly massaged them from her bare arms. Still, she reflected, the cool interior felt good after the heat of the day, and as they sped over the via Appia toward the port over at Ostia, she felt somewhat more relaxed. 

Joseph sat across from her, making no attempt to close the physical distance. Instead, he regaled her with funny stories about how long the refit had taken and the lax attitude of the workers. Some of it was true, but he hadn't told her the real reason for the refit, which was to add armaments and electronics, all of which had been underwritten by a British oil consortium. The war with the insurgents was heating up and his brother, the king, had insisted they needed something in the water offshore near Lagos to defend their fishing and other interests.

Instead, he told her about the teak trimmings and the cost of the leather lounges. By the time they arrived, Elizabeth was actually quite interested in seeing the boat, which for her would be the first time. When they stepped out onto the docks, Joseph suggested she take off her heels and go barefoot, lest she fall on the uneven surface. She thought about it then said, "But then I will ruin my stockings."

Joseph suppressed a leer and said, "Just take them off too. Harun will carry them to the boat." The thought of the brawny black bodyguard touching her clothing made her flesh crawl, but she knew it was probably a good idea; besides, she rationalized, Harun had certainly picked up her clothes from the floor when she had slept with Joseph, so this was nothing new she supposed. She slipped her shoes off, and demurely unsnapped her white lace stockings from the garters and peeled them down her legs. Harun's huge cock twitched as he stared impassively at the white wife. She handed her shoes and the stockings over to him without a word and stepped on the aging deck, walking toward the gangplank. Showing no emotion, Harun accepted her clothing and continued to chew on the toothpick. His cock continued to stiffen and he imagined he could smell the perfumed scent of her pussy on the stockings, and perhaps it was not that imaginary at all, as Elizabeth had squirted Chanel over her neck blades and between her thighs after dressing. 

Harun often had thoughts of ravaging her slender white body, pushing his dark cock deep into her pussy and hearing her scream the way she did when Joseph fucked her. He had seen firsthand how weak and submissive she was in Joseph's arms and he longed to take her and feel her submitting to him in the same way. Now his cock stiffened uncomfortably as he watched her walking in front of him, her hips swaying from side to side in unconscious seduction. He knew of his master's plan to bring her and that spineless husband of hers to his homeland. Harun told himself, "All in good time; just be patient." He knew he would almost certainly have his turn with her when the master and his brothers grew bored with her. He thought back a couple months to the time he had with the young red haired girl Joseph's fat older brother had knocked up in America, then brought to Africa. He remembered how she squirmed and moaned when he fucked her like a bull taking a cow and the thought brought a slight smile to his face, which he quickly dismissed.

Joseph took Elizabeth by the wrist again and hurried her along to the ship. Three workers on the dock stared at Joseph pulling her along, closely followed by Harun and one of them bit bit his thumb at the three of them in the universal gesture of hate and derision. His companions nodded their heads in agreement. One of them spat loudly causing Harun to look back, his eyes glaring. He said nothing but pulled the toothpick from his lips and flicked it in their direction. He turned to face them, then stood motionless. One of the workers swallowed hard and turned away looking at his boots. His companions slowly followed suit and they skulked away not daring to look over their backs. 

Several paces in front of him, Joseph impulsively scooped Elizabeth in his arms and carried her up the gangplank She giggled like a schoolgirl and flailed her bare legs in mock protest until Joseph relented and deposited her on the deck. She smiled and shook her head, looking at him archly. She was having fun in spite of herself and the melancholy she started the day with all but disappeared. They embarked amidships and she couldn't believe the size of the yacht as she looked forward toward the bow and back toward the stern. The beam amidships was wider than their flat in town and she issued a low whistle as an expression of her awe. She thought that Joseph was certainly being modest when he called the vessel a 'boat' when he described it to her earlier. 

A lunch was laid out for them under a canvas canopy and Joseph poured champagne for the two of them. Elizabeth pressed the glass to her lips, but then gently shoved it aside and unnoticed by Joseph drank only San Pellegrino with her meal. She knew what he did not. She knew now why her clothes seemed a bit tight and her breasts had been tender of late. Before her hasty trip to the chemist shop, to admit even the possibility of what she already suspected had been too much for her to face alone, with Michael still away in Africa. In any event, she immersed herself in the unexpected pleasure of Joseph's company and the splendor go their surroundings and everything else was banished from her thoughts. 

The noon hour became mid afternoon. They talked and laughed and quite unconsciously, Elizabeth ran her bare foot up Joseph's trouser leg before quickly pulling it back. She was in dangerous territory here and had to forcefully censor herself. She tucked her legs back under her chair and regained her composure. During lunch, Harun had disappeared and now re-emerged dressed in a tan camo quasi-military uniform. He had a matte black Walther P99 strapped onto a wide belt and leaned over to whisper something to Joseph. A look of concern painted Joseph's face but moments later he waved both Harun and the incident away.

He charged their glasses again and took Elizabeth's wrist in his hand. They carried the champagne flutes with them as he led her into the spacious interior. She was genuinely impressed, never having been aboard an ocean going yacht before. The opulence was overwhelming with mirrored glass, leather and wood everywhere. She stood by a broad portside window which had just been retrofitted with bulletproof glass, and looked over the busy port. She was lost in her thoughts when she felt Joseph standing close behind her. His broad hands ran up and down her slender arms and he gently kissed the nape of her neck. He pulled her back against him, and she whispered insistently, "No, no. Please Joseph, please."

Joseph shrugged, released her and said evenly, "Come, let us inspect the galley and look in on some of the other spaces." The galley was large enough for them to stand in and still maintain some distance between them. It was immaculate and looked very efficient with brushed metal everywhere. On the deck level there were 4 staterooms that were by no means small.

He led her to an external stairway and as they emerged from the cool interior, she felt a light sweat in her armpits. She told herself it had nothing to do with her reaction to Joseph's closeness and at the moment, she meant it. The mini-deck at the top of the stairs led to a master suite that made Elizabeth's eye open wide. Joseph opened the door and the sight of the opulent stateroom made her swallow hard. She swiftly started to turn to leave, but Joseph grabbed her arms from behind and again, he kissed the nape of her neck from behind. Joseph's broad soft lips sucked the right side of her neck and she moaned involuntarily. He cupped her breasts, squeezing them with his powerful hands. From slightly opened lips she intoned, "Don't . . . Uh, don't." Her eyes were closed and her legs began to feel weak as she felt his body heat behind her.

She caressed his right cheek with her right hand. She felt his other hand begin to unzip her from behind and she gasped, bit her lower lips and said, this time more softly, "Don't . . . don't . . .no." She felt, then saw his dark hands slide her dress down from her shoulders. The dress slid slowly down, and while still protesting, she wriggled the dress the rest of the way off her body. Joseph noticed that it was a bit tighter than the first time she had taken it off for him. She moved away from him silently, her head down. She quietly moved the two steps to the bed, and reclined on the edge of the bed resting on her forearms, her legs still hanging on the floor. Above the bed was a mirrored ceiling and she noticed it and her image for the first time. 

Looking forward, she stared intently into Joseph's eyes, then his beltline. She sat upright for a second, then soundlessly slid her panties down, letting them fall from her legs onto the deck. Joseph noted that they were damp at the crotch and clung to her swollen pussy lips as they came away from her body. She scooted a further up the bed reclined and opened her bent thighs. With her index and middle fingers, she spread her pussy lips wide for him to see. She waited patiently and made no sound as she watched him strip, then climb between her thighs, pushing them apart and entering her roughly. He hadn't been inside her for a month, so his cock felt huge once again, and Elizabeth grimaced and breathed out with a huffing sound as she felt him stretch her. His body covered hers as he began to pick up speed. His muscles and his hot, soft skin felt so wonderful, so right against her. His chest flattened her breasts and her nipples rubbed against his, increasing both their excitement. 

She desperately wanted his kisses, and so she arched up and opened her mouth to him, taking his probing tongue deep. It had been so long for her that she came with a rush in less than five minutes of concentrated fucking. Her eyes had been closed, but as she openly them momentarily, she glimpsed his black, muscled bulk reflected back from the overhead mirror. She watched her right hand glide up and down his back from his pectorals to his ass, which she gripped tightly. The image of her giving herself to him with wild abandon gave her more small orgasm to follow the initial earthquake inside her body. Her previous concerns and constant worry about him knocking her up sure as hell didn't matter now, so she gave herself over completely to the experience of cumming over and over.

As a result, the power and depth of her rolling orgasms were shocking to her; almost painful. She had never come like this with Michael, except perhaps once when she was pregnant with Karen, early in their marriage. But this, these powerful personal earthquakes left her shaking and quivering. Regaining her composure, she rotated her hips for Joseph, her wet cunt now sliding around Joseph's hot cock a little more freely. She smiled a little smile -- it confirmed that he had, after all, left her permanently stretched for him and capable of taking his bulk. Feeling his friction and hearing his animal grunts, she broke from a deep and prolonged kiss. She begged him, "Come inside me. Oh God. Come inside me, now."

With a final series of grunts, he stiffened and his hot sperm jetted into her womb. She felt his silky, almost taffy-like baby batter fill her vagina as he collapsed on her. Seconds passed silently. Indeed, this entire fucking was almost devoid of any sounds from either of them, save for moans and his loud finishing grunts. Finally, he broke the silence. He looked down into her green eyes, and said solemnly, "You are mine. Mine. Don't ever do this to us again. Don't ever turn me away."

Elizabeth wrapped her hands around his sweat-laden neck, then choked back wracking sobs. Joseph could feel her ribs convulsing as she cried. Finally she wiped her eyes with the back of her free hand. "I'm so sorry -- so sorry. I am yours now. I am yours." Elizabeth said this with all the contrition and sincerity she felt inside. She had a major incentive for pleasing him and making sure he felt she was his, and she wanted to reveal it to him, but held back. 

She closed her eyes, choosing to give into the contentment she felt, and moments later when she looked up at their coupled form in the ceiling mirror she could barely see her own white form under the bulk of Joseph's dark body. Only her head and her arms wound round his neck were visible. Joseph's ass cheeks were flexing rhythmically as he pushed deeper into her and the vision of his black well muscled ass and the tightening of his thigh muscles matched with the simultaneous pain and thrill of his shaft pulsing and squeezing his last few drops of cum into her filled her with a glow of deep, almost otherworldly contentment. "That's it, my husband, squeeze every last drop of your cum inside me. Every last drop, Jusef."

Joseph was surprised and elated to hear her address him as 'husband.' This day was turning out far differently than he had expected.

As the afterglow of their coupling suffused her entire body, she could not tear her eyes from staring up at the mirror and admiring his dark muscled ass gleaming with sweat. She couldn't resist the urge to pull him deeper into her body; she cupped his ass with her hands and pulled against the backs of his thighs with her ankles. She too was covered with his sweat and knew they should shower but held him tightly, not wanting this time to end. She wanted desperately to tell him of the knowledge she had been keeping inside but had been unsure of until this very moment that she could bring herself to mouth the words. As Joseph slowly pulled from her gaping pussy, and sank back on his knees to admire her, he noticed the large blob of his snowy cum lazily dripping from her deep red vagina. He admired both her physical beauty, now wet and glistening with his sweat and the pool of cum he had left behind. He lay beside her and intertwined his fingers with hers. They lay silently, holding hands and looking unselfconsciously at the other ones image in the mirror above them. Elizabeth closed her legs not wanting to consider the implications of the pool of cum now running down toward her ass crack, but Joseph arrested her by grabbing her knee. 

25.

The night claimed the harbour after they cleaned up and dressed. Elizabeth desperately ached to fuck again, in fact wanted to sleep with Joseph on the boat, but knew she had to get home to be ready for the arrival of her sister Diane and her daughter Karen the next day. She dressed slowly in front of Joseph, wanting him to continue drinking her in visually. She didn't bother with her panties, and left them under the pillow for Joseph. She showed them to him and he grinned boyishly saying that he wouldn't be able to sleep at all with the scent of her aroused pussy to remind him they had a months' worth of fucking to make up for. She nodded agreement then smiled and as he slid on his trousers, she got on her knees to playfully suck and kiss his cock. She had almost forgotten how it completely filled her mouth, as her head moved slowly back and forth and her tongue tasted the musky tang of his maleness. She licked under his foreskin making him moan, until finally he pulled her face from his black cock now glistening with her saliva. He smiled down on her as he lifted her from her knees saying, "To be continued." She nodded and replied, "As many times as you want," then smiled coyly with her eyes downcast. 

They toured the rest of the vessel, which took a good 45 minutes. Elizabeth was introduced to Captain van Leeuwen, a cherubic looking middle aged Dutchman with blonde hair and a florid complexion, and the first mate also Dutch. Both men look rather soft and effeminate, a fact that Elizabeth remarked on when they had walked out of earshot of the pair. Joseph laughed and in a low voice asked her, "Do you remember what I told you about what happens to men who transgress against the accepted order by seeking attempting to sleep with one of our women?"




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 07



Elizabeth nodded, thinking back to his explanation about the punishment for forbidden sexual congress. He had said that punishments were severe.

Joseph continued, "Let's just say that both those gentlemen now have to squat when they pee, but at least they escaped with their lives." 

Elizabeth's eyes rolled and she raised her hand to her lips to cover her reaction. "Oh heavens," she offered, and then stifled nervous little laughs. "I hope Michael is in no danger of committing a transgression like that!"

Joseph shook his head saying, "Remember when I suggested to you that he is a natural cuckold; a natural 'sister wife'? He is content to watch and at times prepare some of the women and cleans them up afterwards. Don't misunderstand me -- he is very strong and an honorable man and we are proud to have him serving our family and our agenda. I will be very interested in seeing his reaction to finding out that you have been bred. I predict he will be very supportive."

Elizabeth was a bit taken aback. Michael had told her nothing of his involvement with Joseph's tribal way of lie. The thought of him 'cleaning up' the tribe's women after coitus upset her greatly, but she managed to hide the fact from Joseph.

They walked gingerly toward the bow and the couple looked out over the murky depths of the harbor toward the lights on an opposite shore. Elizabeth wondered briefly about what her life might be like a month from now; a year from now; for the rest of her life. She dismissed the thought, deciding that it was more than she could deal with at the moment. Joseph stood behind her, his hands clasped around her waist. They were oblivious to the shadowy figure standing atop a warehouse some distance behind them on the wharf. He peered at them through a monocular, shielded to give off little or no reflection. They were unaware of him, but Harun had been watching him constantly for the past hour. Harun had twice fixed him through the telescopic lens of a small-bore rifle.

The couple made their way down to the main deck and down the gangplank. Harun had rushed to take position between the lurking figure and Joseph. Harun was still in uniform, and two other black men in camouflage similar to his were standing by the limousine. One of them, Lotar was older and looked battle hardened with his shaved head and stern scowl. He had a semi-automatic rifle slung over this shoulder and looked around warily. The other, Bolitho was much younger, a boy really. Elizabeth barely paid them any attention though. 

She was deep in contemplation of how she was going to break the news that she had confirmed earlier in the day both to her legally recognized husband and to Joseph, who if not her husband was something very close to it, and yet a world apart from it. By the time the black Mercedes accelerated quietly up the port road she had steeled herself to tell Joseph. She stretched out across the seat and laid her head on his lap. As he stroked her hair, she tightly hugged his bulky thigh. Playfully, he slid his hand under the back of her dress and felt her up. She adjusted her position so he could cup her breast completely. She stared into his dark eyes and saw not just a man with whom she had been intimate, but also the father of her child 

"Jusef, darling. I have something to tell you. I don't know how to say it other than to say it. I am carrying our child. I am pregnant. I don't know how far; maybe a month."

Joseph's eyes were as wide as saucers; he could not make words come from his lips, but instead mouthed random syllables. She pressed a finger to his lips and simply smiled. She had said it and the secret was out, shared with the man who mattered most. It no longer burned inside her torturing her. Joseph lifted her head and kissed her long and sensuously, one hand still squeezing her breast. After several long moments they broke the kiss. Elizabeth scooted on the floor and began unzipping him. "Do we have long enough for me to suck you, husband?"

Over the intercom, Joseph said a few hurried words to Harun and the car took a right turn toward the long drive to the Borghese Gardens. Elizabeth smiled from her position on the floor and tugged his pants down. His huge ebony cock sprang to life, big enough to be visible even in the shadows. She lavished kisses, and then opened her mouth as wide as she could, taking the head and part of his shaft in. 

Over and over she circled his cock, the wetness of her mouth mixing with his copious precum. Furiously she licked him with her tongue and for a solid 5 minutes she pumped her mouth deeper and deeper on his shaft. The funky musk from under his foreskin and his balls were intoxicating to her. She knew his pheromones and was as always, incredibly turned on when she smelled and tasted them. Without ceasing her strong sucking, she tugged his boxers down past his knees. Finally looking up, she whispered, "Scoot forward," and pulled his legs so that he was barely perched on the car seat. 

She parted his legs and nipped at his balls with her teeth then took each one in turn into her mouth lavishing her tongue over it. Pushing his rigid cock and heavy balls upward, she pushed her face into his dark ass cheeks. Kissing each cheek tenderly she began French kissing his asshole also ripe with his pheromones. That exhilarated her more than she could have imagined, given that she had never done this before even for Michael. She was beginning to climb toward an orgasm, even though Joseph was only touching one of her breasts. While she tongued his pulsing asshole, she stroked his cock with her free hand, and heard him begin to moan, 

"Oh God I'm going to cum. . . Fuck it, baby. I can't hold back. Quickly, she moved her mouth to suck him to completion so she could feel him cum. She deep throated him without choking, the first time she had ever managed it. His cum jetted copiously and now she did choke. His second, third and fourth jets streamed over her face, her breasts and her dress. When finally he sank back in the seat, completely spent, Elizabeth took stock of her condition. Long, thick gobs of white cum were all over her hands, her face, and her clothes.

After a few moments she found a bar towel in one of the compartments and began cleaning up. Joseph regarded her curiously as if seeing her for the first time. She had erotic depths, he reflected, that he had not even suspected up until now.

She looked at him momentarily, and then lowered her eyes staring into space. After an awkward silence, she laughed nervously and said quietly, "Well, this is one dress I won't be wearing again."

Joseph reached across and patted her knee reassuringly, "Don't worry wife. Where we are going, you won't be wearing any western garb. You will be dressed like a fine bush wife, with your breasts proudly displayed and inscribed with my peoples' spirit totem. I can't wait to reunite with our sister husband, so that he may worship and attend you properly. My brother has set up a first class clinic for expectant mothers, so you will have first class care. "

"But Joseph," she protested, "I can't do that. For one thing, my sister and daughter are due in tomorrow at the airport. And I . . . Well, I just don't know about all this. I mean, how can I go to Africa. I have never been there. America is my home . . . And what was all that about inscribing something?"

Joseph looked at her sternly. "Woman, do you wish to please me? Do you question your man?"

She bit her lip in a mixture of fear and anxiety. She had a strong vested interest in winning his loyalty and affection, unless of course she wanted to terminate her pregnancy, which would be impossible in Italy and just about impossible back in the States. No, she shook her head. She wasn't really sure she was happy being bred by him, but she would be less happy with the alternatives. She spoke up quietly, "Husband, I want to please you very much. It's just all so sudden, you see?"

Joseph took her small chin in his hand, and then brushed back her hair. "Everything will work out. We will meet your lovely sister and daughter and treat them to a cruise aboard the boat. I will accompany them to assure their safety. You will fly on ahead to Lagos and have a thorough examination by my brother, a well-respected physician back in America. He and his young woman Laura were forced to flee unjust prosecution in your country and are now safe in my family's tribal lands. Oh and the scarification ceremony, just think of it as our equivalent of a wedding ring. The medicine woman does it skillfully and it will only pain you briefly. It demonstrates that I have taken you and you belong to me. By allowing yourself to be scarred you demonstrate your commitment to me and to our way of life."

He pulled her to his chest so that she nuzzled comfortably against him. "It's so much easier to let me make the decisions for you -- for us really. Isn't it?" At the moment, Elizabeth felt more confused than she ever remembered. A part of her wanted to give this a try. Much of what he had explained to her and to Michael was a huge cultural shock, but much of it made very good sense. Indeed the way she had felt today when she gave herself completely to him, knowing he had bred her felt more right than anything she had ever experienced before. And she did love pleasing him and experiencing his incredible reaction to the way she satisfied him on the car ride. She loved it so much she could hardly wait for a chance to repeat it.

"Yes, darling. We will do as you say," she replied, and then corrected herself, a broad smile spreading across her face, "I mean, we will do as you command."

Within 10 minutes, the limousine slowed in front of her and Michael's flat. Joseph said, this time in English to Harun, "You will pick me up in the morning. Bring fresh clothes. We are going to the airport at noon.

Elizabeth opened the door and they climbed the stair together. When they reached the bedroom, Joseph sank heavily onto the bed. Elizabeth looked over her shoulder, lowering her eyes seductively, "Stay there. I am going to clean up and I will be back in a few moments. Oh, and take your clothes off."

Joseph raised an eyebrow, and replied, "I like a woman who can take charge at times. When I get you in the bush though, there won't be so many opportunities to take western style showers so you'd better get used to a lot less of your obsessive hygiene." 

She re-emerged a few minutes later, not having bothered to dry her hair. She looked at her lover intently, then said simply, "Stand up." 

He looked at her with amusement, but did as she commanded.

"Now turn around and face away from me. And spread your legs."

Even though he had a puzzled look on his face, he was both aroused and interested to see where this was going. He spread his legs and planted his palms on the bed, forcing his body to bend far over. The room was silent but in moments he felt Elizabeth's slender hands forcing his legs apart, or at least attempting to. He decided to assist her and took a wider stance. Looking back, he saw her naked and on her knees. She looked up at him and loudly slapped his ass. "I told you to look straight ahead." Enjoying the feeling of control, she smacked his ass again. "This is what you get for knocking up an innocent white wife from Indiana with your black seed." 

He started to say something then simply looked stoically forward, realizing that she was being playful. She smacked him twice more on each cheek then began kissing his ass cheeks lightly. Each kiss grew softer and closed to the cleft between his cheeks until finally she spread them and licked, then kissed his asshole deeply, without the car's seats to impede her lust. Her face disappeared between his ass cheeks and she made her tongue rigid, fucking his ass as deeply as possible. She sensed him tensing and slapped his ass then commanded him to loosen up and relax. She reached around his leg and felt his stiffness. She couldn't encircle him completely, but massaged his shaft as best she could.

After several minutes she licked her middle finger and pushed hard into his asshole. She had trimmed her nails in the bathroom, knowing that this was what she wanted to experience with Joseph tonight; she wanted to give him a new sensual experience and also see whether it turned her on as much as it had earlier in the evening. Hearing his moans of pleasure, she pulled her other hand from his cock and smacked his ass cheek hard again. 

She smiled, knowing no one had ever done this for him before then pushed harder and faster inside him. He growled and said over and over, "Oh fuck, Oh fuck." She was turned on by the acrid taste of him and the strength of his pheromones made her crazy. Her free hand slipped from his cock to her mons and she began rubbing her clit rapidly back and forth. She began breathing hard and her legs grew weak. Suddenly Joseph turned, lifter her up then threw her onto the bed. "Get on your knees woman. I need to cum. let me show you how we Nigerian bulls fuck out little white girls," he joked, then added, "And get used to it, you will be fucked like this a lot." Although this was intended as playful banter, it turned her on even more. She moved to her knees and looked over her shoulder. Through tight lips, she moaned, "Hurry. Please. Give it to me. Cum hard. . .", then added simply, "Please." She hiked up her hips into the air and scooted closer to the edge of the bed. Joseph entered her roughly and climaxed within minutes. Although she didn't climax from his cock, she brought herself off moments later, still strumming her clit fast and hard. 

The pair collapsed onto the bed, Elizabeth nestled in his strong arms, her hands resting lightly on his abdomen. They did not speak for several minutes, their lust sated; they were content to bask in the afterglow of sexual bliss. Joseph began to stroke her stomach and realizing the symbolism of it, a flood of unwelcome thoughts suddenly took over her psyche. "Joseph," she began, "I just don't know about any of this. I am really so confused. I can't see where this all ends up -- for any of us. For you; for Michael; and for me. I can't see how this all works out in the end. How will we ever be able to return home? How will my family -- our daughter, my sisters -- how do I explain what you're proposing to anyone really. It's just crazy."

Joseph ran his hand over her skin, admiring the stark contrasts between them, contrasts that only began with their skin colors but went to the very core of their experiences and views on the world. He stared thoughtfully at the ceiling, then spoke, "Elizabeth, you speak of 'endings' and all I can think of are beginnings. I will take care of you, the children you will bear for my brothers and most of all for me. In time, the life you led before will be a dim memory, barely remembered. You will smile when you think back on how frightened you once were and then look proudly on the woman you have become. Michael will grow more and more satisfied with his role as your emotional supporter and childrearing helpmate."

At this, her brows furrowed, and she arrested his hand on her body. "What do you mean 'bear children for your brothers'? That's going way too far, darling."

Joseph interlaced his fingers through hers. "Elizabeth, I am the third son. By tradition, my brothers will have more right to you sexually than will I. There may even be times when you are offered by my brother as a favor to other exceptional both from our tribal lands and to others whom we will wish to make alliances. It will be expected of you as a high status woman."

"Joseph, do you hear yourself. This is completely insane. I can't do something as crazy as that. I have feelings for you, not your brothers, and certainly not strange black men from the African bush, for heaven sake." She folded her arms across her chest frowning resolutely.

Joseph smiled, then spoke, "Elizabeth, do you hear yourself slipping back into your provincialism? You know from your western history that women have always played a powerful role through their sexuality. Do you think Marie Antoinette was happy at first? Probably not, but she grew confident in her role. And now I am realizing that I chose a bad example -- I can assure you that you will never lose your head." Then he added laughingly, "on the contrary, you will be giving much head. Men will be lined up for your favor."

With that the somber mood of the discussion was broken and they both laughed until it was painful. She sighed a long sigh, then said, "As long as I can have you at least part of the time, I suppose I will be alright with things. Um, what about my sister and my daughter? Where will they fit in in this grand scheme?"

Joseph shrugged then replied, "Yes, I have been giving that some thought. I think I can help them understand the choices we have made. Leave them to me. We will have a whole two week cruise to educate them." He nodded his head confidently, then reached over to cup her mons, massaging his hand over her soft bush and feeling her begin to lubricate when he pushed a finger into her.

"Joseph, just promise me you'll protect Karen. Some of your men are well, a little 'rough around the edges.' She reached over putting a hand atop his as he continued to stroke her pussy with his hand.

"Elizabeth, I promise I will pay particular attention to your daughter. Everything will be fine once we get to Africa and they are reunited with you. I have had my man arrange your travel for the day after tomorrow. My men will be meeting you at the airport to take you inland. You won't have much time with your sister and your daughter, so we will need to help them understand things tomorrow."

They made love once more in the morning and showered, then dressed together. Joseph in the fresh clothes Harun had brought, and Elizabeth in a pale lime green sleeveless dress and brown patent slingback heels. When they arrived at the airport, Elizabeth greeted her sister and her daughter with hugs, kisses and much lively talk of how much Karen had grown in the last few months. Her sister Diane remarked on how much they both had been looking forward to this trip.

Joseph stood quietly in the background waiting for an introduction. They had rehearsed their explanation and Elizabeth began to explain that Joseph was a dear friend of both hers and Michaels that she met at an embassy party, and Michael was doing important work for the U.S. and European governments with his family in Africa. The best part, she explained, was that he was an actual, real Nigerian prince and he was going to treat them to an Aegean cruise and a tour of Africa. Joseph smiled and spoke warmly to them, "It is an honor to meet you both. I look forward to our cruise together." 

With that her sister Diane looked puzzled, "Cruise?"

Elizabeth smiled wistfully, and told her, "Diane, there is much we have to discuss. Let's enjoy a lunch together and Joseph and I will tell you all about the adventure you're going to have."

Harun held the limousine door open wide and Elizabeth scooted in practically dragging her daughter inside. Reluctantly, Diane shrugged and slipped into the large back seat, saying, "Well, when in Rome. . ."

The black car slipped smoothly into the crowded avenue and down the hill toward the port at Ostia.



Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 08



26.

Joseph had arranged to have Diane and Karen's luggage delivered to his yacht, the Malreine. In the meantime, He commanded Harun to drive them to the Fortunato al Pantheon in the historic district so they could have a taste of the most authentically ancient areas of the city. Along the way, he offered a running commentary on areas of interest, including an archaeological dig on the Via Argentina that his family was funding. He was quite proud of the fact and both Diane and Karen could plainly sense his pride.

He explained to them that during the Etruscan epoch, Africans from the White Nile, probably from what is now Rwanda, had come to this area and subjugated the more primitive peoples. He explained that a plague, caused by unsanitary conditions in the ancient Tiber River, had wiped out the African conquerors. If not for the plague, Africa would have ruled the world, or at least the ancient world.

Seeing the disbelief on Diane's face, he smiled and arched an eyebrow. She felt flustered and her blushing cheeks clearly signaled the fact. Joseph waited for her to speak. When she tightly held her lips together, Joseph offered, "You have doubts, I see?" 

Diane shook her head slightly then finally spoke as the car came to an abrupt halt. She said, "Well, I just doubt that a bunch of ignorant, primitive nig...". She halted and bit her lip, staunching the word she was about to utter. She continued, "What I mean, Prince Joseph, or your highness or whatever, is that none of the history books that I learned from say anything about Africans and I find it hard to believe that in ancient times, anybody but white people ruled the world," she paused and then added, "With all due respect I mean."

Her tone dripped with sarcasm, but Joseph did not respond in kind, preferring to educate her instead. "On the contrary, dear lady. Both Asian and Black African civilizations were quite superior in ancient times. It's more a case of who writes the history books. Even today however, African-bred warrior prowess is recognized to be unsurpassed. If I am not mistaken, black men and even women serve in your country's military far in excess of their percentage of the population. Certainly, you must also admit that most of the top-flight athletes are black. Is that not so?"

Diane did not acknowledge this but Karen nodded her head slightly in apparent agreement. Joseph turned in her direction. "Karen, I was in your country recently, and what I observed was that interracial dating amongst women your age and younger is rising sharply and, more and more, young Caucasian women are preferring black lovers. Even your television advertising is reflecting what is becoming commonplace. Until recently, my older brother was regent at a university that promotes interracial familiarity and understanding. At first, he was surprised that young white women were choosing to attend in such large numbers. It has become quite a success story and now there are three other universities following the same path."

He did not add that Hank and a number of other wealthy blacks had formed a non-profit organization expressly to grant scholarships to young caucasian women with "promoting interracial familiarity" foremost in its agenda. Indeed, their Africa Rising organization had been quietly promoting people into positions of authority and creating policies to forward this goal.

The four of them were sitting two abreast in the limousine with Joseph and Elizabeth facing the rear, and Karen and Diane facing forward. Karen could not help unconsciously taking note of what an attractive couple her mother and Joseph made sitting along side each other when he mentioned "interracial familiarity". Karen smirked when the phrase came into her head, but was inwardly concerned and perplexed about what she was observing, especially when she saw her mother casually touch his thigh once, then only withdraw it after what seemed a long time. Her brow was knitted in deep thought and only Joseph's voice brought her back into the here and now. He looked at her with his penetrating stare and remarked, "Karen, you can verify what I am saying; certainly you and your friends at high school back in the States are dating black boys, are you not?"

She was speechless at having been called on to offer her opinion. Her parents had raised her in the traditional mode of, "Don't speak unless spoken to", and even then, be as non-committal and 'ladylike' as possible.

Suddenly, this powerfully built, very dark man was soliciting her opinion. It was hard for her to convince herself that such cultured words and ideas spoken in his cultured Cantabrigian accent were coming from a black man. She stuttered as she tried to make her mouth work. Most of the black boys and young men she had encountered back in Indiana seemed thuggish and uncouth, with their pants hanging low and crookedly-mounted baseball caps.

Still, there were murmurs amongst her friends; secret little whispers; embarrassed titters behind lily white hands when the topic of black boys came up. She knew and now admitted to herself there seemed to be a rising interest among her social group in tasting the forbidden fruit that black boys represented. One of her best friends, Melanie, had been secretly dating a black boy to spite her parents and had created a bit of scandal when she proudly announced to her girlfriends that she had lost her virginity to him.

Melanie had pronounced black guys, "Da bomb," uncharacteristic language for her, and developed a strong preference for hip-hop, a taste she tried to push on all her friends. After having dated him in secret for the final four months of their senior year, she had gone so far as to proclaim she would no longer be interested in "being with" a white boy, but added, "unless he was rich of course." She encouraged Karen and her other friends to go out and get some "black skin" to see what she was talking about. Karen was shocked to see her show up at the Memorial Day opening of the municipal swimming pool in a scanty bikini with the phrase "I heart BBC" inked on her exposed butt.

Melanie was the first (and as far as she knew the only) of Karen's cohort to lose her cherry, so her opinion that black guys were superior seemed to bear extra authority. Over time though, she had grown tired of Melanie's condescending attitude, especially when it came to sexual matters, and the two of them had drifted apart.

Her pensive reflection created an awkward silence, and Joseph gestured to her to elicit a response. She shook her head to clear the mental woolgathering and just blurted out, "Uhhh... Well, I guess more of my friends are messing around with black boys," then gathering a bit of self importance, continued, "Yes, that's definitely true! A lot of my girlfriends think black boys are 'da bomb'."

Her aunt looked at her with shocked surprise. In reaction, Karen bit her lip in embarrassment then looked away from everyone, staring blankly at her open toed Espadrille shoes.

Ignoring her immaturity, Joseph smiled and continued, "Ah yes. 'Da bomb!' I understand the expression. I believe there is a reason why smart young women are beginning to prefer African-heritage men all over the world, Karen. My people are amongst the healthiest in the world, with some of the longest lifespans, despite only having had access to western medicine for the last 50 years. My people are of an ancient tradition, going back much further than your European roots. I can for example, directly trace trace my own ancestry on the same throne back some 25 generations. We have maintained this superiority by a strict policy of who is allowed to reproduce.

"Without giving a name to it, we have believed in a practice called eugenics, a moral philosophy advocated by your own Charles Darwin. Although it was misused and discredited in your recent history, our practice of improving the genetic quality of the human population is far less harsh, and agreed to by all the members of our society. Thus some men are relegated to the role of supporting superior women to breed with superior males and they happily rejoice in that role. Some men are born - as you might say - to 'lead and breed'; some are born to 'spectate and facilitate.' Through successive generations, we have reduced reproduction of people with less-desired or undesired traits."

He explained this philosophy so charmingly and with such logic that it gave Diane pause. One the one hand she was dumbstruck at how alien and incredible it all sounded; at the same time, there was certain purity in the logic. If this had been the way things worked in her life, she never would have been saddled with Hurley, her oaf of a husband and their three equally oafish sons. Sitting beside her in the back seat, Karen, younger and more impressionable continued to listen with rapt attention.

He went on to tell them, "Even now, in your own country where women have only recently escaped the subjugation of white males in many aspects of life from religion to politics, things are beginning to change so that women have opened their eyes from generations of blind acceptance and actively preferring superior men. My own readings tell me that recent statistics in your country show that black male/white female marriages since 2008 have more than doubled."

This was due in no small measure to the behind-the-scenes machinations of an emerging black power elite, but of course Joseph didn't mention this. Having laid out his (to them) extreme worldview for the women, Joseph turned to lighter topics, showing them the Victor Emmanuel Monument which Romans referred to derisively as the "Wedding Cake" for its out of character architecture and garish white marble cladding. He pointed out the apartment balcony from which Mussolini made his mad pronouncements and did not hesitate to tie it back to his previous statements on the destructive nature of white male rule in the world at large.

As they neared the Trevi Fountain and the Pantheon, the mood became very light and Joseph actually had them laughing about the curious history of the Pantheon's construction. Karen was mesmerized by him, and she became aware of an uncomfortable tingling in her chest. Her eyes were wide, and ears attentive, hanging on his every word. Her initially negative opinion of him was clearly (and quickly) changing. Her aunt on the other hand was not as easily taken in and could barely perceive the sophisticated aristocrat behind his ebony skin. He may be some kind of royalty, she thought, but he's still a black man!

As Harun braked the large Mercedes to a smooth stop, then rushed to open the door, Joseph emerged first to offer his hand to each of the ladies. Secretly, he was appraising them individually, like a lion considering his potential prey. Diane emerged first. She was, as Elizabeth had told him, eight years older at age 48. Her hair was a sunny blonde and bouncy. She was beautifully curved, with a heavy rump and full breasts. Joseph smiled slightly as he considered her wide hips and well muscled legs. "A cow - good for breeding," he thought to himself. Physically, she was exactly the kind of woman most of his kinsmen strongly preferred, and he considered how easily some time spent servicing the right man would crush her racism. He considered how the two weeks at sea could be put to good use in adjusting her attitudes. He made a mental note to have a chat with Lotar once aboard ship.

Karen bounded out next. Joseph knew already she would be another, far more complicated matter entirely. Physically, she was a slight but attractive blonde like her aunt, although it was clear that her hair color was completely genuine. She was slender to the point of being skinny. He noted with interest that her pebble-sized nipples were distended from her flat chest reflecting some private excitement she was feeling at the moment. He had not considered that he was the reason for that excitement, but indeed it was the case.

Joseph considered how he might deal with Karen. He was feeling something for her mother that transcended lust and physical need. He had never felt this deeply about any of the women he had chased and bedded, and could scarcely believe his good fortune in having found her. Moreover, after their reunion aboard the yacht, it was very clear that her feelings were now just as strong for him. For her to commit to changing her whole way of life for him would completely change her and Michael's role in the world beyond recognition. Elizabeth's agreeing to come to Africa, to experience the life he had described to her, was a commitment that would challenge everything she believed, through her upbringing and her life experiences.

Joseph viewed Karen through the lens of his own experience, growing up in an actual jungle. Joseph considered himself much like a jungle lion who was always the dominant male of the den. Although Karen was Elizabeth's daughter, she was also Michael's progeny. He clearly could not tolerate the whelp sired by another weaker male to intrude on the relationship with the lioness he had now chosen as his primary mate. 

Thus, he considered potential options even before meeting the young girl today. Elizabeth had told him in no uncertain terms that she could not abandon Karen to her relatives, never to see her again. Joseph had considered taking her as a secondary wife, but in truth it disturbed his sense of propriety. In addition, despite being very pretty - a younger version of her mother in some ways - her level of naiveté was such that she didn't appeal to the sophisticated aristocrat in him.

Joseph had made his mind up that she needed to be mated permanently to someone and in such a way that clearly defined her role as beneath the station that the royal family, that he and now by his choice Elizabeth, occupied. In short, she should be part of a caste that did not threaten his relationship with Elizabeth. He stroked his chin and glanced sideways at Harun. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps Harun? He privately smiled as he wondered with perverted glee how her father might react to preparing his daughter to be mated with a man like Harun. He considered how to plant the seed of an idea in Karen's subconscious.

Finally, Elizabeth alighted from the limousine. He took her hand and was captivated by her classic beauty. He loved the way she seemed to glide as though floating on air when she moved. His eyes were only for her. He felt a pride of manhood as he realized that soon her belly would swell with his spawn. He could already envision her feeding his beautiful black baby from her milk-engorged breasts. He could already see her bearing the symbol of her solemn troth to him - her breast permanently scarred with the tribal sigel of a shield overlaid with a spear.

Harun, standing stoically at attention clamped his teeth down hard on his toothpick when he saw her dress ride up to her panties as her leg stretched to touch onto the pavement. He felt a sexual flush and his cock began to stiffen as he saw her upper thigh, but suppressed his desire reminding himself that he had plans for her once they reached Africa, and patience would be necessary.

A prime table with a spectacular view of the Pantheon area was reserved for them and the waiter led them to it with a wave of the hand. Joseph talked about the best dishes on the menu and ordered two bottles of wine, both reds, for the table. When the waiter poured, Joseph waved him off from filling Elizabeth's glass and a second waiter quickly replaced her setting with a plain glass and bottle of Pellegrino mineral water. Karen was impressed that she was regarded as mature enough to merit a glass of wine and that no one had thought to ask for a proof of age from her. She couldn't decide whether it was just a European thing or whether no one would dare to confront Prince Joseph on such a trivial matter.

Both she and her aunt noted with interest that Elizabeth was not drinking wine and that it had been Joseph, not she who waved the wine steward away from filling her wine glass. Diane was first to wonder about the implications of the act, and after entree orders had been taken quickly suggested that Elizabeth and she visit the powder room.

Elizabeth rose slowly, already sensing the questions from the look in her sister's eyes. Harun standing discretely in a dark corner watched them disappear through an arch, and touched the gun beneath his jacket as if to reassure himself it was still there. Back at the table, Joseph raised a glass and toasted the fine weather and for a wonderful visit for Karen and her aunt.

Walking to the back of the restaurant, they were all smiles and gentility. Once in the anteroom of the toilettes, Diane's smile vanished and she grabbed her younger sister roughly and turned Elizabeth to face her. "Alright, little missy, you want to tell me what in the fuck is going on here?"

Elizabeth hated when her big sister used the 'little missy' tone of voice on her. It projected her back to her pre-pubescent girlhood when her older sisters bullied her and constantly reminded her that they were the family princesses; they were her overlords, the keepers of her virtue. In truth, Elizabeth only wound up dating Michael after her older sisters Paige and Diane had rejected him as being too passive, too 'nice'. Paige had even suggested to Diane that she thought he might be 'light on his feet,' a euphemism for effeminate, because he was too timid to force his attentions on her. Only then did they decide to introduce him to Elizabeth. Diane thought to herself that maybe Elizabeth had gotten the best of the bargain after all.

Elizabeth bit her lower lip considering how much to reveal to Diane. She really couldn't come completely clean without raising complete havoc. She forcefully pulled her sister's hand from her arm, then archly smiled and said simply, "I don't know what you're talking about, Di. I met Prince Jusef through Michael. They're working for the royal family to exploit mineral and oil wealth. The prince has become a good friend, whom we both enjoy. I think his cruise offer is wonderfully generous and would do you a world of good. It's about time you washed the stink of small town living and that philandering husband of yours and got to know a bit more of the world. Live a little, Di! It's a big world out there and you never know what you'll discover. You might even grow to like the prince."

Elizabeth's barbed comment hit home. Diane had come on this trip in part to gain some distance and some time to think about her marriage to her husband Hurley. She had born him three sons, two of whom were abject failures and the third only escaping by joining the Army. Hurley was working as a salesman in her father's dealership since their marriage, and had recently started screwing the newly hired twenty-something receptionist. Diane had found this out in the worst possible way when she emptied his trouser pockets and found a pair of thongs most definitely not hers. She vaguely thought of how she might get some payback on this trip, but had no definite plans.

Diane's blood pressure was still sky high, but she forced calm on herself. "Look Lizzie, I'm sorry. Things at home are just kind of a mess right now. Thanks for arranging this cruise and all. The prince seems very nice, very..." she searched for a word, "... cultured. I mean for a negro and all. I just haven't been around them much - blacks, I mean. "

Elizabeth smiled and she caressed her sister's cheek softly. "Just go, Di. You'll have a wonderful time and you'll forget all about the craziness back home. Joseph's men are all trained soldiers so you will have the best protection possible. He promised me you will have an exciting trip and see and experience things you've never known before."

With that reassurance and veiled hint that Elizabeth knew about and sympathized over her situation with Hurley, Diane regained her composure. "Thanks, Sis. I know it will be wonderful and I am looking forward to it. I have never been at sea before." She raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "I know it will give me time to think about things. I just don't know why you aren't coming with us!"




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 08



Elizabeth chose her next words carefully. "I told you, honey. Michael and I have entered into a long-term contract to live amongst Joseph's people and to help them negotiate with western companies. Michael and I have already agreed to this and it would mean quite a lot of prestige and future recognition for Michael. Joseph's brother Teejan is the headman - what we would call a 'king' in western terms and he wants to meet me as soon as possible. That's all really; otherwise I would be onboard with you soaking up the ambience of the Aegean Sea."

Of course it wasn't all true. It was at least partially true, but it was far from everything, and it was the story she and Joseph had agreed to. His theory was that as her sister got to know him and his people, and as he helped her understand his people's way of life, she would be more able to accept the choices Michael and Elizabeth had made.

They returned to the table and found a family style antipasto waiting for them. Karen was already stuffing her face and prompting the wine steward for a refill. Diane noticed that the one called Harun was now receiving some private instructions from Joseph. Another, somewhat older black man with a rather severe military bearing had taken up position where Harun had been standing. Diane noticed a distinct bulge under his left jacket lapel, and thought suddenly that it definitely looked like a gun. She frowned but made no comment. Harun left the restaurant in haste while Joseph smiled and turned his attention back to his bevy of lovely women, encouraging them to eat hearty.

The wine and the light conversation made the mood at the table ebullient and joyful. Had they known why Harun had hastened away, their attitude might have been different, but they were blissfully unaware of the tense state of undeclared war between Joseph's tribe and the insurgents dedicated to tracking his movements and preventing his return to Africa.

In the hour plus consumed by the meal, Harun had driven Lotar's rented Fiat 500 back to the harbour and, having enlisted the aid of four local mafiosi, dispatched two Africans who had been inconspicuously watching the Malreine from atop a containment facility on an adjacent wharf. They had thought themselves practically invisible but Harun had noticed them over the course of seveal days. He had been observing them intently every night for a week now, and one night he had even crept within 20 meters of their perch and taken several low light pictures. Acting on Joseph's instructions, he and the band slit their throats, with hardly any struggle. Their money was split amongst the mafiosi, but Harun had kept their 'burner' mobile phones and the few papers they carried for further inspection.

The crew bagged their bodies in rough canvas sacks and weighted them down with old auto parts. Harun and the crew carried them to a small skiff. Harun told his band to go far enough into the bay to give the predatory fish of the night a hearty meal. Waving cheerfully to them he motored back to the restaurant and was there just in time to greet the party emerging from their meal.

Harun drove a meandering path back to the yacht, followed by Lotar and Bolitho. No one appeared to be following them and Harun was satisfied by his efforts of the afternoon. By the time they arrived at the Malreine, the sun was sinking quickly and the heat of the day gave way to a delicious chill. Elizabeth helped her sister and daughter settle into separate cabins at the level of the main deck, and went back outside to bid farewell to Joseph. He held her as if never wanting to let her go, and they looked out from the stern over the water as lovers often do, wondering about what the future might hold.

In her cabin, Karen had changed into very short shorts and a lime green and white striped boat neck top. When she emerged onto the deck, she was confounded to see Prince Joseph, his arm around her mother's waist. This confused her deeply; she had never imagined her parents as sexual beings, and seeing her mother in the embrace of someone other than her father caused her to breathe in so sharply that she started a coughing spell. She retreated back down the stairs quickly lest anyone hear her and pushed open the door to her cabin, slamming it behind her. 

27.

Interlude 1: Karen and Diane Aboard the Malreine

On the third day into the trip, the weather cleared and the sea and sky created a dazzling mosaic in countless shades of blue. Joseph's personal entourage were all warriors from his homeland, as signified by the tribal sigels inscribed into their chests. The lone exception was Joseph's young cousin Bolitho, who had not yet distinguished himself in combat and thus did not merit the tribal scar. The crew, except for Harun, who kept vigil on a platform above the bridge, were casually attired either wearing only shorts and tank style tops or no tops at all. Both Diane and Karen discretely scoped them out and Diane - who had started drinking just after breakfast - had indiscreetly commented, half to Karen and half to herself, that if any of them were available in a white model, she might be sorely tempted. Karen stared at Bolitho a few seconds too long and reflected to herself that she didn't see anything at all wrong with the black model, especially after Joseph's exhortation to consider black men as superior.

On the previous day, they had an additional long discussion that ranged from Mediterranean points of interest to his peoples' way of life. At Karen's urging, Joseph expanded on some of the themes about African men, telling her that she should take this time away from her parents' watchful gaze to sample some of the men onboard. He mentioned, perhaps a bit too forcefully, that Harun in particular was known to the women of his tribe to be the best lover, able to cum multiple times and give a woman many orgasms without losing his erection. At this, Karen blushed deeply from her cheekbones to her sternum and buried her head in her hands to suppress nervous, almost girlish laughter.

As they sat in a secluded area of the stern, shaded by a canvas awning, Joseph looked at her and rolled his eyes in dismay. This one would definitely be a cow in his tribe, taken by many men for their pleasure. She was dressed in low rise worn denim shorts that barely covered her skinny butt, and a loose camisole with a shelf bra that Joseph thought was unnecessary for support. At home girls with as little development as her would remain topless and enjoy the warmth of the sun on their bodies. He shrugged and continued to chat affably with her, hoping that he would loosen her up during the cruise.

He planted another little seed, saying, "Surely you know the old wives exhortation, 'once you go black, you never go back?' There is truth in old wives' tales and this one is certainly not an exception. Tell me Karen, How many times can your boyfriends back home make you climax. Are they like Harun?"

With that, she clenched her jaw and looked out over the water. She cleared her throat, and offered, "Well, to be honest, I... Um, I have never gone that far with a boy."

This last part she rushed out so that it was barely intelligible, but Joseph had been listening intently. "Truly?" he replied.

She took a deep breath and then expelled air from her chest in a rush. She raised her palms and nodded. "Yup, I have felt a boy's... you know... penis and let him kiss my boobs - and before you say anything, yes I know they're barely boobs; everyone tells me that, so just don't fucking say it, ok?" She dragged out the word 'everyone' dramatically and waved her hands in a way that made Joseph smile inwardly.

"Well, I am sure that once you're coupling with a strong lover - someone like Harun, that will change," not adding that the change would likely come about by her being bred by someone like Harun, or perhaps Harun himself. He continually promoted the idea of Harun as a lover to the impressionable young woman in the belief that, in marketing, persistence is everything. 

He had planted the seed more than once, and once they were a few more days out, he would instruct the chef to begin adding a potion given him by Mama Leon, the tribe's shaman. It would make Karen's libido skyrocket and, without knowing why, she would begin acting on impulse as if possessing no self-control.

Karen reflected on the prince's statement as Joseph turned the conversation to lighter topics - the calm of the sea, a planned course change, the coolness of the day. It was all Karen could do to keep her mind on the conversation. She had caught sight of Harun, patrolling the quarterdeck abutting the bridge deck above them binoculars in hand, and involuntarily, her eyes traveled over his body. He was so old she thought, in his 40's or fifties. Why in the world would women seek him out as Prince Joseph had claimed? Still, there was something about his bearing; about the way his chest and his biceps filled his khaki shirt. She looked at him as if for the first time, and without knowing why, her eyes traveled down from his beltline, down his shorts. She saw, or imagined she saw, a tubular shape running down from his crotch for many inches. It was both long and thick. Was this the reason women wanted him? She dismissed the thought and looked in vain for something else to capture her interest.

Joseph poured her a glass of white wine, which she gulped down in a most unladylike fashion. She had begun to enjoy these fruits of adulthood, and with no one there to keep tabs on her, had a tendency to go a bit overboard. During a change in the conversation, she ran her hand along Joseph's thigh without knowing it, and, not really caring, didn't bother to pull it back.

Amidships, Diane had begun to relax in a way she had not been able to do at home for years. Today, she had even decided to wear a bikini. To hell with all the black men on board she thought. Let 'em get an eyeful. Her failed marriage with Hurley and the disappointment of their sons seemed to fade away in the calm and serenity of the Mediterranean Sea. Lotar seemed to be dedicated to her, but not in the way that a servant might. Instead, he kept assuring her in a French-English patois that he would take care of her. He brought her a rum drink and hors d'oeuvres as a midday repast, and set them down beside the chaise where she was on her stomach, sunning.

Noticing that her fair skin was reddening, Lotar squeezed some sunblock from the tube and began to apply it to her shoulders and neck. Abruptly, she pushed up on her elbows and said loudly, "What the... what the hell do you think you're doing? Get your hands off of me you... you... "

She didn't finish the sentence, but her words had made her emotions clear enough. Lotar ignored her and pushed down on her back until she flattened onto the chaise again. "Lotar take care of you. You belong for Lotar."

She ignored his words, and he discreetly retreated into the shade of a banquette covered by a temporarily rigged canvas awning. He regarded Diane impassively from the shadows.

He closed his eyes and thought back to the day of their leaving Ostia. Joseph had gathered him and Harun and told them both that they were to give "special attention" to the women and he would take is as a special favor if the women were both to yield their "charms" to the men by the time they arrived in Lagos. Lotar said in their native tongue, "I want that big woman. The child has all the appeal of a Pika Chakula bean. I will take the chubby one many, many times. Trust me, boss." Harun only grunted, clenching his jaw and rolling a toothpick over his tongue. Joseph looked at him sternly, and repeated his exhortation. "I mean this Harun. I want the young one to give everything to you, to be completely committed to you, understand? I don't want that one to ever see the land of her birth again. Do whatever it takes to make that happen. Understand?"

Harun replied tonelessly, "Of course, my prince."

Joseph reached into his cargo pants pocket and produced a large vial of orange liquid. "We will help her desire to become insatiable with this. It's a gift, a little potion from Mama Leon. And Lotar, if you wish we will give it to the aunt as well."

Lotar grinned a toothy grin and replied, "Lotar needs no help with that one boss. She is ripe for taking already. I sense it from her smell."

The three of them laughed heartily, even Harun. Joseph slapped the table and said, "Even so, this will help things along."

Lotar opened his eyes and gazed at Diane's full butt. She was still on her belly and her butt stood out prominently. Already, he could envision her bent over like a Bunaji cow, ready to take him.

Diane opened her eyes slightly and looked at him. The very idea of the dark skinned black man putting his hands on her made her flesh crawl. A gentle breeze brought his strong scent to her. Damn, he stinks, she thought! The very idea of him touching me? it's repulsive. Oh well, she thought, I put him in his place. 

On the third day, they abruptly changed course and passed through the narrow strait between Corsica and the Isola Maddelena and once into the open sea, the captain increased speed to 18 knots. The Malreine, at 500 feet in length was a huge vessel, one of the largest of her class. She had specially modified twin hulls beneath and could do up to 20 knots in a short stretch. The course change had been planned by Harun and Joseph, and Harun intently watched their retreating wake, looking for any sign of pursuit. On the bridge, the crew scanned the advanced radar supplied by the British, for any unusual traffic.

When they passed through the Straits of Gibraltar, both Karen and Diane indulged in a flurry of selfies and then were disappointed to discover they had no mobile service. Lotar explained patiently, "Too far, too far away from everything now."

28.

Their first port of call was Rabat. They dropped anchor squarely in the middle of the Jeteé de Salé rather than at the docks. If they needed a quick exit, it was better to be in open water. A water taxi took them into the port. Diane had told Captain van Leeuwen, one of the two white males onboard that she was interested in finding something special for Elizabeth in the bazaar. He had recommended the Kasbah of the Udayas as the most genuine and atmospheric of Rabat's many open street malls. He also suggested in no uncertain terms she take Harun or Lotar with her. "A white woman alone in Rabat... Well, you can imagine."

As Joseph wanted to show Karen the beautiful gardens in the Paseo en Rabat, they parted on the docks with Lotar and Diane going in one direction and Joseph, Karen and the other three going in the other.

When they arrived in the Kasbah, Lotar surprised Diane with his passable command of French. He negotiated the price of a handcrafted lace mantilla from 20 Dirham down to 5. It brought a smile to Diane's face, but still she kept her distance from Lotar.

At another stall, he negotiated the seller down by two thirds. Daine thought he was proving to be useful as a shopping companion, certainly more attentive to her and enjoying shopping, her favorite activity, seemingly as much as she did. Still, she didn't want him closer to her than three feet - people might think they were together after all. They continued to shop nonstop for the next hour. Lotar stopped to treat her to a drink served in a melon half and she spied a handbag seller around a busy corner. When Lotar turned away, Diane darted out of sight.

A swarthy man had been shadowing their movements for the last half hour, and now he took his chance. In a twinkle, he ripped her purse from her shoulder and pushed her to the rough pavement. She screamed and stabbed the air with her finger, pointing excitedly down the narrow street.

Lotar sauntered over to her and looking down the crowded street spied the cutpurse. Calmly he withdrew a bolo-like weapon from his pants pocket. Holding the device by its center knot, he swung it around his head several times. With a snap he let it fly toward his target. In what seemed like a second, it wound around the bandit's head and the stones at the weapon's ends struck home, felling him instantly. Lotar loped off and retrieved Diane's purse and his weapon.

In a moment he was back, lifting Diane from the pavement and brushing her off. Suddenly she didn't mind his hands on her in the least. For the rest of the afternoon, she looped her arm in his and was never out of physical contact with him. Suddenly his natural smell was not at all objectionable, and his coal black skin and the feel of his rock hard body were a reassurance in this place where she was the foreigner. She squeezed his strong bicep every few minutes as if to reassure herself. They said nothing to each other and yet meanings were shared. She suddenly turned to him and said, "Thank you for retrieving my purse," then added, "Lotar," as if acknowledging for the first time he had an actual name. Lotar did not look at her but said simply, "Lotar is warrior. Take him down like animal. No worries for you now."

She smiled at his broken English, which now seemed innocent and charming rather than ignorant. Unconsciously, she remembered a similar incident from years before, when her purse was snatched outside an Indianapolis restaurant. Hurley simply stood there, dumbfounded and shrugged saying, "What's the point. He's gone girl. Ain't no catching him. Let it go." As they walked to the eastern end of the Kasbah, she stood a little taller, and looped her arm through his. When an errant fly hovered near his grizzled face, she brushed it away and tenderly wiped perspiration from his skin. A casual onlooker could have mistaken them for a couple, although an unusual one. At the last stall they visited, Lotar picked out a scarf for her and the seller gave them a "husband and wife" gift - an aphrodisiac concocted from powdered rhino horn. Lotar translated and they both laughed. "I don't think so," she said aloud, but privately, she thought, "Maybe we'll just have to see now, won't we?"

She wondered how the seller could have mistaken them for a couple, but then realized their body language was proclaiming it - the way she was holding onto him looked very much like a wife clinging affectionately to her husband. She rejected the image of them together "that way" almost immediately - but not completely. Lately, she was finding herself unaccountably horny at the most inconvenient times. Today with Lotar was one of those times. Annoyed, she immediately released his arm and began walking discreetly apart from him.

In the city center, Karen took pictures nonstop, thinking that she would be able to post them eventually. As the day grew late, both parties assembled on the quay and a launch ferried them lazily back to the Malreine. For the dinner, chef announced that he would begin serving dishes in the Nigerian style, complete with native spices. The women ate heartily and retired after drinks. The stars were brilliant point of light against an inky sky.

Karen awoke around midnight, needing to pee. In the narrow passageway, she encountered both Harun and Bolitho who were making rounds. She brushed past Harun, and as her chest touched him her nipples began to tingle unaccountably. She had a hard time peeing, and emerged only after clearing her mind, which was strangely cloudy. Too much wine, she thought to herself. Walking back she steadied herself, palm on the walls, and bracing against the forward and back sway of the boat. Harun was at the end of the passageway near her cabin. As the Malreine heaved, she stumbled into him and he caught her by her slender upper arms. As her body hit his, it felt like slamming into a brick wall. She looked up at him sleepily, and laughed a tittering little chuckle. "Sorry, I tripped... Heh-heh" She looked down shyly, as Harun reached to adjust the spaghetti strap of her skimpy camisole top, then opened her door and watched her as she climbed into the narrow bed.




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 08



She closed her eyes but sleep would not claim her. The level of testosterone in her blood was now being augmented at every meal by the potion supplied by Joseph.

She didn't know what was wrong, but something was certainly bothering her. On an impulse, she slid her hand under her panties and touched herself. This was something she almost never did. She had only tried masturbation out of curiosity, and the couple times she had, disgusted her. Now, she decided it felt more good than disgusting. She tried to conjure up her one time with her boyfriend, Chris but felt her excitement slipping away quickly. Unbidden, the thought of Harun somehow came to her. She felt her clit become slippery and wet again as she thought of his hard body and his strength.

Her fingers began to fly over her clit, rapidly rubbing back and forth. Her nipples hardened and when she thought of squeezing Harun's cock in her hand, she convulsed over and over. Her back arched and her torso muscles were taut and strained. As the orgasm rolled through her virgin vagina, her muscles began to relax. With her free hand she squeezed her left nipple and then ran it over her tight little belly. "Holy crap," she cried to herself, "Never felt like that before. What in the hell just happened?"

She wiped her right hand on the sheets, wiped tears of happiness and guilt from her eyes, and slapped the back of her hand against her forehead. Whatever just happened was intense - the most intense she had ever experienced, and for some reason, Harun was at the center of it. She slid her hand under her panties again and lightly massaged her tender pussy lips. Something inside her told her she needed to explore these strange feelings more. She dropped off to sleep with her hand still cupping her pussy. Her dreams, which she would not remember in the morning, were strange: She was on her knees in a dense jungle and she could see Harun swinging a huge black snake in front of her face. Rather than being frightened by it, she dreamed that she reached out to touch it.

The next day the ship throttled back so that the crew could do some fishing in the rich waters off Mauritania. After breakfast together, both Diane and Karen were fixated by the parade of black men, stripped down to their shorts, fishing over the stern and starboard side of the ship. Even Harun had stripped down and Karen idly admired his muscle definition as he reeled in a large fish on a taut line.

As mid-morning came, the fishing party broke up and the crew evaluated their catch, which was considerable and represented many varieties.

Diane had brought only two bikinis and the other one was getting decidedly ripe after several days of wear. She decided to don her second one, which she had not yet worn as it was much more revealing than the other. 

She moved the chaise into the sun mid deck and suddenly noticed Lotar standing by the starboard banquette with a tall drink in hand. He knew her penchant for early morning rum drinks and already had chef make one for her, just in case. He brought it to her and stood idly by the chaise where she was on her stomach, sunbathing.

She accepted the drink, then smiled for just a moment at him and said, "Thank you. I wanted to thank you again for what you did yesterday. It was very brave. I appreciate it," then added, "Lotar" She made a point of saying his name.

Lotar shrugged and said simply, "Lotar is warrior. I tell you before. No worries for you now. Lotar take care of you. You belong for Lotar."

She gulped down the drink feeling its coolness in her throat, knowing that it would soon create a nice buzz all through her. His words only partly made sense to her, and had she thought harder she might have been disturbed by them. 

As it was, she let them pass and surprised him by rolling back onto her stomach and handing him the sunblock. No words passed between them and she allowed him to rub the lotion on her shoulders and the middle of her back. He finished and sat back down on the cushioned banquette, just looking at her with no expression.

She propped herself up after a few minutes, downed the liquor and let the alcohol do its magic. After Diane consumed a second drink, she lazily turned onto her stomach again and closed her eyes. After a few minutes, she looked over to Lotar, picked up the sunblock and gestured in Lotar's direction. "Well, you're not going to let me burn, are you? I think you missed some spots."

Lotar jumped up eagerly, and took the tube from her. "Oh no, Miss Diane. No worries. Lotar take care of you. You belong for Lotar."

As his strong hands slathered the lotion over her back, she calmly reached behind and undid her top, letting the elastic material spring away from her skin. "Belong for Lotar, huh? Well, what the hell," she said to no one in particular, "When all ya got are black men..." her voice trailed off.

She closed her eyes and let his strong hands roam over her back. He started on the backs of her thighs and she cooperatively lifted them to give him access to her legs. She looked back over her shoulder and smiled, suddenly thinking of her pig of a husband back in Indiana. "Hurley, you cheating root weevil, what I wouldn't give for you to be here now watching this old black man put his hands all over me. You son of a bitch!"

Lotar looked down at her form, and inquired, "Pardon Miss Diane?"

She looked back at him and said, "Nothing, Lotar. Just talking to myself."

He happily continued until every unclothed bit had been covered. She turned on her back, picked up her empty glass and holding her top clumsily, asked, "Sweetie, would you bring me another one of these?"

Lotar smiled and took up the empty glass from her. In moments he returned with a fresh concoction. She refastened her bikini top, then patted the chaise next to her. He sat there just looking attentively at her. She began to natter away about how she had three sons and she had found panties from some floozy in her husband's pocket and this trip was partly to figure out what to do.

The only part of it Lotar understood was about the three sons. He offered that he had bred two different women with three sons as well. He pointed to the scar on his chest and said, "Lotar is warrior. I am allowed to breed many sons."

He went on to explain that two sons were warriors too, but had died last year in a fight with Somalians. He looked away and spat on the deck as he mentioned that his third son was a 'sister husband' not a warrior. Diane understood little of this. She flopped on her belly again, and gestured for Lotar to massage her.

Lotar smiled and sprung to his feet. Lying again on her tummy, Diane said, "You can undo my top. It's fine. With that she lifted slightly, and feeling Lotar's fingers on the clasp, shrugged the straps off her shoulders. Pulling deftly, she slid the top out from under her and dropped it beside the chaise. She put her head down resting it to the right, and raised her arms level with her head, mated her amble breasts securely with the chaise.

As his strong fingers began to knead the tension from her back muscles, she moaned with satisfaction and looked to her side taking Lotar in. He was not a bad looking man for a negro she supposed. Old as hell though she thought. Sixty if he was a day. Still he was tall like all the Africans on board with a spare, muscular build and she already knew he was strong and liked to protect her. Oddly, he made her feel secure, something her husband never did. She compared Lotar's tight abdomen with her husbands pronounced beer belly and simply shrugged her shoulders.

She changed the position of her head without trying to look obvious. From her new vantage she could now see that he wore nothing under his deck shorts and that, even though flaccid, his dark cock head, peaking out from a dark foreskin, was clearly visible and was clearly huge, perhaps twice as wide as her husband's. She had never seen a man uncircumcised before and her first thought was, "How odd," followed by, "Whatever, no problem. I'm sure it works the same way"

Before Rabat, she couldn't even stand to have him around. His strong body odor had been overpowering. She surmised that he had clearly never seen deodorant and probably bathed only infrequently. Now, she thought, she must be getting used to it or something. She looked up at him again, and decided that at the moment he actually smelled just fine. "Hell, I'd do him," she thought chuckling to herself, then immediately dismissed the thought.

Lotar's fingers were magic for her. All her tensions drained away and she had a nice alcohol buzz going on. When his hands massaged her deltoids then moved to the sides of her breasts, which were protruding from her side, she just let it happen. Lotar's hands wedged between the chaise and her rib cage. She froze momentarily. Then she surprised herself by moving her arms to lift herself up. In a scant moment, Lotar's fingers were grasping her nipples, pulling them away from her body. "Oh, what the hell, why not," she decided, and then flipped onto her back. "Go ahead Lotar. Make me feel nice."

Looking down at her chest, she saw Lotar's bony black hands cupping her breasts and kneading them none too gently. She closed her eyes, pulled her arms up her sides, and then laced her fingers behind her head. He continued to massage her breasts and when she felt thick warm lips encircling her nipples, she didn't move away. Instead, she reached forward and caressed Lotar's shock of wooly white hair. 

She looked at the top of his head through boozy, half closed eyes and thought to herself, "Hurley, you sonofabitch. I'd love to send you a selfie of this."

Lotar changed breasts, sucking her left breast now. She could see the wetness of his saliva coating her other breast and she moaned with pleasure. Now she was getting wet between her crotch and tightly clamped her thighs together to mask her scent. There was no masking Lotar's scent though. He was becoming aroused and perspiring lightly.

Far from being off putting, Diane now breathed him in and found it exhilarating. His hands slid down over her rounded belly and slid under the front of her bikini panty. She could feel his fingers moving down through her ample bush. She moaned and for a moment was frozen. He pushed forcefully between her thighs and cupped her mons. He bit her thick nipple and caused her to breathe in sharply. She forgot his hand and tried to pry his mouth from her. As she did so, she relaxed her legs and Lotar took the opportunity to cup her pussy more fully. Lotar looked into her eyes and said, "Take off."

She dithered for a moment, looking around to see whether they could be seen by anyone. After seeing no one, she quietly tugged her panty bottom down over her fleshy thighs and kicked them away. "Go ahead," she said quietly.

Lotar's lips and mouth found her taut nipple again and he lapped his tongue around her nipple. His fingers probed her fat pussy and she moaned softly. Looking around, she saw no one. She rubbed his crotch lightly then pulled herself upright. Gathering her discarded bikini, she took his hand again, then looking toward the stairs to the cabins, said simply, "Come on, Big Boy. Let's you and mama have some fun."

They swiftly descended and in a moment were in her cabin. She looked him squarely in the face then without ceremony, yanked his shorts down. His member seemed to have grown three sizes already, and instinctively she reached out and tried to circle it with one hand. "Damn, you're huge! I sure as hell never seen one this big before... And sure as hell not this black! Bet you've made a lot of women happy with this haven't you, Big Boy."

Lotar stood silently, a look of docile contentment already spreading over his face. He pushed her to her knees, and said evenly, "Make Lotar hard now. Make suck." He made a back and forth motion with his right hand while pulling her forward by grabbing her by the back of her head.

Tentatively, she licked his pee slit, deciding whether to commit further. With his free hand, Lotar pulled back his foreskin and exposed his broad purple-red head which was rapidly becoming huge.

Diane recoiled, repelled by his overpowering scent but he held her in place, even pushing her head forward forcing her mouth onto his rapidly engorging cock. With no choice in the matter, she simply opened her mouth wide and circle his cock.

She almost choked from his size and his scent. She forced herself to breathe through her nose as his huge mushroom shaped head pushed into her throat. Despite being repelled by him, her mouth was incredibly wet and as she began to pick up a rhythm of sliding back and forth over the first few inches of his manhood, Lotar relaxed his grip on her head. He began to stroke her hair, which felt strangely like the silk he had felt in the marketplace. He liked the feeling almost as much as he liked the rhythmic pulsing her mouth was making on his manhood. She was diligently sucking him and he looked down at her admiringly. Her body was lush and curvy, promising much pleasure to a man. Her breasts were large and her hips wide. He had a perfect body for a man to explore. 

He could never understand those white women he sometimes saw on his trips to Europe with Prince Jusef. They seemed to want to starve themselves in a land of such plenty; to make themselves unappealing to men. It was crazy, he thought, running his hand over her soft shoulder, then reaching down to pinch her nipple.

The need to cum was now becoming urgent and his balls tensed. He stroked her lush hair appreciatively and thrust his torso forward, hard and suddenly. His partner flailed her arms and pushed hard against his thighs. She coughed convulsively and his member, dripping with her saliva, explosively disgorged from her throat and mouth. When her coughing was under control, she smiled up at him and said, "Whew, you caught me off guard there big boy. Sorry."

He didn't fully understand her words, but smiled back down at her. He pulled her upright and pulled her over to the bunk. She started to lie on her back but he pulled her and forcefully bent her over the bed. "Be like cow for bull. Bend." He pantomimed what he wanted and instinctively she understood. She mounted the bed on her knees with her lush ass facing toward him standing behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she said, "We call this doggie fucking where I come from."

That much Lotar understood and smiled appreciatively at the way she seemed excited and ready for him. Experimentally he leaned over and spread her ass cheeks, then licked her vagina. He found it clean and fragrant and stuck his tongue deeper, waggling it up and down. Diane moaned and bit her lower lip. "Mmmmmm. Nice. How about you put that big black snake right there, Sweetie?"

Lotar rose and she watched him manually rub his cock head up and down against her pussy lips. Her eyes fluttered and she braced herself. He continued to rub then released his cock. As she felt the broad cock head part her labia she tensed then reminded herself to relax. He continued slowly feeding his cock into her and she could feel her pussy muscles being stretched. He was huge she thought, beyond anything she had ever felt inside before. He continued to shove slowly and patiently into her until at last his 11 inches were in her. As he paused, she could feel the extent to which he was impaled inside her and touching her in places she had never felt a man touch her before. Certainly, Hurley with his little dick had never aroused her to this degree, she thought.

After a moment, Lotar pulled back and then began to stroke her slowly and rhythmically. She lost herself in the moment and began to rock her hips back and forth in time with him. Her higher brain functions were no longer operant, and she began to react as any animal experiencing new and intense pleasure would. Lotar cupped her lush ass with his hands and squeezed her ample hips. He reached forward and pulled on her nipples, and this excited her further.

Her breathing became fast and intense and she rocked her body faster hearing the slapping of their joining come faster to her ears. She felt his taut balls banging the top of her labia in this inverted position and each time they hit a little thrill ran through her. She wanted to feel it even faster and she adjusted her pace for him. Lotar reached forward to stroke her silky hair and let her do most of the moving. He smiled and reflected that white women were even better than the women of his tribe - at least this white woman was!

Diane gyrated her hips from side to side in circles to accommodate his immense girth, and to give herself extra pleasure from having nerve endings touched in places they had never been touched before. Without giving her a hint, her body rocked in a rolling orgasm and she nearly collapsed onto the surface of the bunk. Lotar yanked her back up by her waist and now picked up the pace. Over and over, he pounded himself into the supine white woman, enjoying the way her ass bounced every time he stroked her. It took a full ten minutes of hard fucking for him to climax, during which time Diane experienced two more, less intense but all consuming climaxes herself. When finally Lotar made a final deep thrust in her, she winced as he banged up against her cervical ring. Suddenly, she felt a hot flood of his baby batter deep in her vagina and a wave of satisfaction swept over her. 

There were times when a woman felt that she had entirely fulfilled her role with a man, and this was one of the rare ones in her life. As Lotar pulled slowly from her pussy, she looked back over her shoulder to see the look on his face. His eyes were closed and he smiled a rare smile. She could see the bushy patch of white hair surrounding his genitals and could even see her cum plus some of his coating his unbelievable long cock. She smiled in satisfaction then happily collapsed on her side.

She scooted on the small bunk to make room for him and when he rested with his right hand behind his head, she threw her left leg over him and idly ran her fingers over his chest and touched his nipples. He looked across at her in amazement. He had never had a white woman before, but this had now happened and he was attempting to evaluate it rationally. He decided after a bit simply that he liked it and definitely wanted more of it. He wondered idly if she could still be bred and whether they would produce strong warriors.

For her part, Diane was extremely satisfied and washed by a calm afterglow of incredible sex. It was in fact the most intense series of orgasms she had ever had. Today made everything in her sex life with Hurley look ridiculous by comparison. Was this what they meant when they said, "Once you go black, you never go back," she mused. In any case, she knew she wanted more of this curious old man lying beside her in the small bed.

She didn't have to wait long. After dozing for a few minutes, she felt his mouth on her thick nipples and looking at him hovering over her supine body could tell instantly he was strongly aroused again. She scooted on her back to the center of the bed and let him position himself between her thighs. She opened her legs wide, one leg falling off the bed, and raised her hips invitingly. He was inside her in a second and although her pussy felt sore and stretched from their first coupling, she was eager to feel him inside her again.

He supported himself on his forearms, thrusting intensely and rapidly. She rolled her hips to increases the thrill in her pussy, and this excited him even more. Every time his pelvic bone pressed against her clit, another thrill ran through her entire body. "That's it, Daddy. Oh shit! Just like that." As her need intensified she gripped his biceps bracing herself for a climax. As it hit, she screamed out in pleasure, and pulled his head into her neck. Her body rocked over and over until she had trouble catching her breath. "Oh Daddy, Daddy. So so good. Yes. Don't stop. Cum in me again Daddy."




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 08



Now in a state of intense pleasure, Lotar could hold back no longer. His cum jetted from him, deep into Diane's still fertile loins. They rocked together in shared bliss and she continued to hold his head at the nape of her neck to intensify the intimacy. He was still thrust deep inside her and they were as close to existing as one being as a man and a woman could ever be. These two very different people, from such different places suddenly felt perfectly joined and perfectly right together. In days to come, Diane would continually marvel at the experience and they would couple frequently in all possible combinations, and whenever the mood struck them.

At dinner that night, without making any fuss, she took her plate and sat over on the banquette next to Lotar instead of at the table with Joseph and Karen. Diane mooned at Lotar like an infatuated teen, and smiled worshipfully as Lotar fed her fish from his plate. Karen stared at them in disgust and turned to her plate sullenly. After a few bites, she decided she had enough, and started to pull back from the table.

Joseph looked at her and asked, "Something wrong with dinner, Karen?" She frowned and said, "No, it's not that. The food has been even more amazing the last few days. Just that I am not feeling well."

Joseph nodded and replied, "Ahh. I sense you are confused about something. Finish this delicious dish that chef has slaved over for you and we will talk tonight."

She smiled and slid her chair back then took a few more bites. When she next looked up, her aunt and Lotar were nowhere in sight, seeming to have vanished suddenly and without warning.

Joseph motioned to Bolitho, who promptly brought over a bottle of champagne in an iced bucket. "Come, Karen. This is good for whatever ails you." With a flourish he popped the cork and lavished a generous pour into her flute.

She had never tasted champagne before, and when the bubbles tickled her nose, she remarked brightly, "Oh my god. It's like drinking stars!"

At that, they both laughed and she grasped his hand lightly. "I don't know what's wrong with me, your highness. I have all of this turmoil going on inside me. I mean, I know there's something going on between you and my mother. Don't deny it. A girl can sense these things."

She paused, "Are you and she...?"

He shrugged and thought his reply, then said, "Karen, there are all sorts of ways that societies operate. Not all of them close to your limited experience in a very backward and provincial country. Yes, it is true that your mother and I are... close, very close. In fact I have taken her to be my consort. Do you know that word?"

Karen shook her head, and gestured for him to go on. to

"A consort is like a wife to a monarch. And that is what your mother is to me," then he added, "In every sense."

Her face revealed a look of shocked surprise and revulsion.

"Karen, please understand, that this is entirely with your father's blessing and that he is an active participant in this expanded marriage. It is how we do things, and have for hundreds of years. Warriors and kings may take a number of consorts but your mother is most dear to me."

Karen shook her head again, "But they are married, how can he... "

Joseph let a small silence follow, then added, "Your father has relinquished his western-style marriage 'rights' and is now what we refer to as a 'sister-husband' to your mother. I should tell you that you will soon have a new brother or sister as well. they will be dark like me and certainly will have the blood of Africa running through their veins. Does that upset you."

This obviously upset Karen and the shock showed on her face as she considered the shame of everyone in Indiana seeing her family out in public with a black baby. Suddenly, she felt deeply hostile to her mother, scarcely believing what Joseph was explaining. She was also deeply disappointed in her father. He was certainly not the man she always thought him to be. How could he be a willing part of this.

"Please Karen, be open minded about this. Your parents very much want you to be with them as they begin a new life in our land. You will learn to love the freedom our way of life will give you as a woman, and the many choices that will be opening for you."

Karen gasped in disbelief, "What... Go to Africa? Me? I... Look, I think it's impressive that you know your heritage for 500 years or whateverl. And I can see that there's room for all sorts of things, but... I just... I don't think I want to be any part of this. This is too much of a shock. Can you understand that?"

Joseph moved with some ceremony to slide their chairs back from the table and took her hand. "Come, let us look at the stars up at the bow. The sky is exceptional tonight."

They walked hand in hand toward the bow. Joseph carried the champagne and flutes and they sat on a large wooden deck plate. Karen was quickly running a mental calculus on how she should treat Joseph now. Was he a father figure? Was he a relative? Was he somehow an eligible male? Perhaps he was all of these or something else entirely. She wasn't sure. Somehow though, she very much wanted his approval and wanted to learn from him just who she should be in this suddenly shifted landscape.

Joseph charged both their glasses and reclined casually on the deck plate. Karen followed his example, and stretched out with her hands laced behind her head.

"See, all's I know is that Mom's family came from France. Our name is Peveril. Mom has seven sisters. Grandpa won a dealership in a poker game. Grandma was always pregnant," she paused and laughed, "All the girls in the family are supposed to be 'fertile myrtles'."

Joseph did not know the expression and the look on his face was telling. She went on to explain, "Very easy to knock up." He smiled as his face registered understanding. This had jibed with what Elizabeth has told him.

"Anyway, I always been warned to watch out for boys, because I'm gonna get knocked up in a heartbeat." She leaned over and took a long draught of the champagne. Then she reclined again.

Joseph watched her expression then offered, "Don't worry, You will have many warriors to choose from where we are bound."

Karen spurted out angrily, "Damn it. That's just it. I don't want to be in freaking Africa. I sure don't want to be knocked up. I don't want to have the kind of life my Aunt has. I... I don't know what I want. I mean, I haven't even had sex yet!"

Joseph let a silence sink in then offered, "Well, there are many excellent teachers aboard the Malreine. All you have to do is offer. Do you remember that I told you Harun would be an excellent teacher?" Again he made the 'sales pitch' to her.

She shuddered, raising goosebumps, the replied, "I... Yeah, I don't think so. He scares the hell out of me." She didn't add that he had appeared in her dreams twice now.

Joseph gestured, "All the better. If he scares you, then he scares anyone who would do harm to you just as much. Think how well protected you would be with a mate like Harun."

On seeing her goosebumps, he alighted. "Let's get something stronger to chase those away. In a few moments he came back with a bottle of grappa. He poured her three fingers and told her to drink it all in one gulp. She downed the potent liquor and choked as it burned her throat. They both laughed and continued to talk.

"I don't know what to think about all this Joseph. I guess my mom and dad are different than I thought. Aunt Paige told me that her and Aunt Diane both had a shot at my dad, but they both kind of thought he might have been 'light on his feet'. I never understood what that meant. Anyway, Mom ended up with him. I guess I kind of look like him."

"Anyway, I can't have sex until I am married in a Baptist church. Pastor Rex says that any woman who fucks outside marriage is no better than a bitch dog."

She laughed out loud at that and just shook her head, scarcely believing what she had uttered.

"Karen, let me ask you this. Have you ever watched a 'bitch dog' being fucked?"

She admitted that she had, several times in fact.

Joseph asked simply, "Did the bitch dog ever look unhappy?"

Karen thought about it and said she guessed not.

"Then maybe the bitch dog is just fine with things, and your Pastor Rex may be wrong about this and any number of other things as well."

With that, they both broke into laughter.

"Karen, know what you need? A bracing midnight swim. Come with me."

With that, he stripped off completely and Karen was shocked to see his masculinity so suddenly and starkly exposed. My god, she thought, even his muscles have muscle, and his penis is enormous. How does a woman take something like that inside her?

Joseph lifted her and urged her to take everything off. She took off her shorts and top, but left her bra and panties on, exclaiming in a slightly slurred voice, "These have to stay on, understand?"

With that, they both plunged into the water, which at first felt ice cold but then warmed up the longer they paddled. Joseph dragged her around in the inky darkness doing horseplay for several minutes. Suddenly he pulled up short causing her to bump into him. "Karen, did you feel that. I think it may be a shark." She screamed and hugged him tightly around the neck.

She felt lithe and feather light in his hands, but her grip was amazing. He laughed and then pressed her to release her death grip, saying, "I was only joking, my little white flower."

She caught her breath and looking around in the dark water said, "I am ready to get out now."

He told her to relax against him and he would pull her back to the ship. As she was being dragged along, she felt his skin against hers and was comforted by his warmth. She felt something unusual in the small of her back then realized it must be his manhood. Although he was flaccid, his member still felt large and firm. It frightened her to think she was this close to a naked man, especially a black one.

They climbed up the mesh ladder amidships, and after he pulled her on deck, he shushed her visibly. "Let's see what your auntie and Lotar are up to, shall we?" Tiptoeing along the narrow decking running outside the cabins, they looked down into Diane's room. Karen was shocked enough to look away from what she saw, but then slowly looked back. Her aunt was mounted in what she would come to know as 'cowgirl style' on a reclining Lotar, who was pushing his hips up against her. Her lush thighs clamped hard against her black lover's torso.

"Oh my god," Karen exclaimed, "They're... "

Joseph rubbed her goose bumps, replying, "Yes, they're fucking, and enjoying it from what I can see. So is your aunt a 'bitch dog', Karen?"

She laughed nervously, "Um, I guess not. I just never saw two people doing it before. Is that how you like it? I mean, how men like it?"

Joseph said honestly, "I like it all ways, especially like dogs or cattle. Your mother, also not a 'bitch dog' very much enjoys this way as well."

Continuing to stare at her aunt and the black man, Karen noticed something else and remarked, "Well, I guess this solves the mystery of whether Aunt Diane dyes her hair or not!" pointing out the lush dark brown patch of pubic hair raising and falling on Lotar's black cock. It was in clear contrast to her blonde mane.

They exploded in gales of laughter then tiptoed away.

They returned to the deck plate and Joseph laid back again, not putting on any clothing. Karen stood adjacent to him in her wet bra and panties and watched a meteor shower. Joseph poured another three fingers of grappa and she drained the glass, this time without choking.

When Joseph suggested she strip off and let her clothes dry on the railing, she replied testily, "You're just trying to get a look at me naked."

Angrily she stripped off her top and looking darts at him asked, "Is this what you wanted to see, pervert?"

Joseph said she looked quite nice, and she retorted, "Don't lie to me. I know I got nothing up top. All the girls make fun of me."

He considered a reply, and then said, "Karen, not all women develop at the same time. Once you have been bred by a strong warrior, with your breasts full of milk for a beautiful black son, they will swell amazingly, believe me."

His words were designed to be suggestive for her, convincing her that being bred should be something she should strive for. She missed that, at least consciously.

Lazily, he rose from the deck and grabbed her discarded bra. He gestured with his free hand, "Strip your panties off so we can hang them to dry."

"Is this just a trick to get me naked?" she asked, her voice becoming more and more slurred.

Joseph tugged on her elastic band and she stepped out of her wet panties and Joseph picked them up and tossed them aside. "Come lie beside me. Let us talk and I can warm you."

Joseph looked at her naked form and swallowed hard. She was indeed her mother as a much younger woman, and a stirring gripped his loins. Uncertainly, she lay down resting in his nook of his right shoulder and they both stared at the night sky.

After a few minutes, Joseph asked her, "Have you ever seen a man naked before tonight?"

She told him about Chris, a lifeguard at the pool back in Indiana. She explained how a number of the girls had found a broken window in the men's locker to peek through. She had seen Chris, but she said he was tiny there, compared to that, pointing to Joseph's massive cock, draped casually over his balls.

Joseph continued to warm her small arms, and his hand eventually rested on the side of her butt, which he began to squeeze lightly.

"This Chris. How often did you fuck him?"

Karen rose for a moment from his comfortable nook, "Fuck him? Are you kidding? The truth is I never have been with anyone. I told you that."

Karen explained that she never thought of Chris "that way", and anyway, Pastor Rex's wife said a girl who fucked outside of marriage was a slut. Sex was only for a husband and only to make babies.

Joseph exclaimed that this was absurd. If a woman didn't fuck a variety of partners, how would she know how to choose a good husband?

Joseph suggested archly, "Besides, what if I were your husband but you didn't yet know it? Would we want to deny ourselves all that pleasure, just to wait for a ceremony?"

She laughed a little drunkenly. Lying in his nook she began to absent-mindedly rub his abdomen. She noticed how soft it was and the feel of his rippling muscles.

"Well, I couldn't be your wife because for one thing, now my mother is... Well, sort of your wife, right?"

Joseph laughed heartily, "But Karen, I am a prince. I can have as many wives as I wish. Who knows; perhaps you would even be a better wife for me than your mother."

Again, he sought to plant the germ of an idea.

She snickered. Inwardly, she harbored resentment for her mother's infidelity with Joseph and considered for a moment that it would be wonderful payback for him to cast her mother aside for her instead.

"Joseph, I know next to nothing about all this sex stuff for one thing, so I don't think I could be much of a wife."

The conversation drifted over many sexual topics and as she talked her hand ran freely over his torso. Without realizing it at first, she touched his cock accidentally, and snickered.

Joseph asked archly, "My cock makes you laugh?"

Pressing against his belly, she replied, "Oh no. Not at all! Just felt weird... Different."

Joseph stroked her hair lightly, then offered, "Go ahead, feel it. Really feel it."

Deciding to show him she wasn't afraid, she gripped his shaft and then raised on one elbow to look at it in the moonlight.

She asked innocently, "Where is the head. Chris's had a little mushroom at the end.

Joseph explained that real men have a foreskin covering their cocks, and suggested she stroke it. "Pull it back, toward my balls. You'll see."

When she stretched his skin back toward the base, his head popped out, huge and shiny.

"Oh, now I see. Wow, you're so huge. No way I could fit that... you know... Inside me."

He laughed and reminded her that her mother does just that, sometimes many times a day."

As she absorbed this, her nipples sprung up hard and she felt a tingling in her lower belly.

Joseph offered her a metaphor about stretching, reminding her that a violin string will never make beautiful music until it is stretched. Next he proceeded to explain that, "Besides, it helps when a woman is properly prepared for penetration."

She was still stroking his cock back and forth, somewhat unconsciously, but in a way all women instinctively know how to do. 

"What did you mean 'Prepared'?" she asked nonchalantly, trying not to betray her mounting excitement.

"Do you want me to show you?"

She nodded, "I guess. No, I do. I do want you to. Yes!"

He stood up facing her as she reclined on the deck plate.

"Now, raise your knees and spread your legs as wide apart as you can."

She reluctantly did as he commanded, but he could tell she was incredibly tense. Gazing at her supine form, his cock began to stiffen and rise toward his belly. Seeing him in the moonlight, Karen could only say, "Wow."

He pulled her legs forward a little, then bent his head to begin kissing her nipples. After kissing her neck and sucking on her small breasts for several minutes, he could sense that the tension had changed from fear to sexual tension and need. He kissed his way very slowly toward her lower abdomen, and his lips finally brushed against the soft, sparse fur of her pussy hair. She gasped as he planted his broad lips at the top of her mons. For the first time in her life, and now for the first time as a young woman, a man's lips were grazing her pussy. She felt his broad tongue spread her labia and begin to lap up and down, laying stroke after stroke against her mons and clit.

She began to moan and unconsciously move her hips up and down against his face. She gasped several little gasps and continued to rock her body against his mouth. When he inserted his middle finger and began to stroke it in and out, she felt as if she needed to pee, but that was quickly replaced by another, more urgent feeling. Suddenly, she rocked hard against his finger, thrashed her head from side to side and climaxed heavily, far more heavily than when she had masturbated the previous night. 

Pulling hard against his head to try to force him to stop didn't work at all and she continued to feel aftershocks from his cunnilingus as his tongue continued to press and his finger moved rapidly in and out pushing against her hymen.

Finally, he stopped and rising to his feet, he stretched and lay beside her again. She meekly snuggled into his nook again, still feeling tense, but incredibly changed.

"Wow, wow, wow. That was intense. I sure never felt anything like that before," was all she could say.

They lay silently for a few minutes before she noticed that Joseph's cock was now incredibly large and pulsing. Emboldened by grappa, and the erotic roller coaster ride of a few minutes before, she asked timidly, "So... How does a woman get her man... Ready for... Penetration?"

Joseph smiled and lifted her chin. He kissed her lightly with slightly parted lips. She could taste herself in his kiss but it didn't bother her really. "Yes, you need to know that as well. Stand up, between my legs."

She stretched and rose. She stood nervously and watched him part his dark legs. In the moonlight, she saw his cock rising from between his legs and pointed at his belly button.

He gestured with one hand for her to get on the deck plate. "On your knees," he explained.

She crawled in between his parted legs and then he put her hand on his cock. "Stroke it," He commanded.

She stroked him and found his girth to be far too large to encircle. She started a steady rhythm and watched in fascination as his foreskin moved up and down his shaft. She was fascinated too by the feel of it. It was incredibly warm and though his skin was soft and pliant, incredibly hard like a flexed muscle.




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 08



"Mmmmmm," he moaned. "Now use your mouth."

"My mouth? Like kiss it," she asked.

"Yes, and then cover it with your mouth, all the way in as far as you can and move back and forth as though you were sucking a favorite candy."

She slid her slender ass on the decking then slowly as if uncertain what to do next, she kissed his pee slit, then ran her tongue along it and for the first time tasted the sweet, viscous taste of a man's precum. She licked his shaft starting at the bases and continuing until she arrived back at the head. She found both his tat and his smell strong but exciting.

She opened her mouth wide and slid it down his shaft, but found it too large to have more than a couple inches in her lips.

Joseph coached her, "Good, and slide your mouth up and down on me."

She did as bidden and tasted more of his heavy precum. Her mouth watered as her head bobbed and she slid up and down on his engorged shaft. 

She seemed to understand instinctively how to suck his shaft and after some minutes of this, Joseph told her to caress his balls, which she found surprisingly heavy and taut. When he told her to lick his balls, she was at first hesitant but complied. It was a strange, but not uncomfortable taste and feeling. He moaned appreciatively, and finding one of her nipples in reach twisted it between his thumb and forefinger. He urged her to continue, but she decided she liked having his warm hard cock in her mouth even more. In fact, now it had become a deeply felt need. She sucked more and more rapidly, covering more of his cock with each stroke of her mouth. He was pushing her throat open more and more and she was strangely proud that she could accommodate him deeply after several minutes of sucking. She felt an acute tingling all through her breasts and pulsations in her loins. Her heart beat fast and a queasy feeling nagged her belly.

Her combined caresses and the movement of her mouth and tongue were beginning to be effective. Joseph began to move his hips forcefully up and down from the deck plate. His balls tightened in Karen's small hand, and with a single loud growl, he came explosively in her mouth. She had not known to expect this and was unaware of the power his ejaculation would bring. Much of his ejaculate pulsed directly down her throat, but as she almost instantly pulled her mouth away, his second and third jets hit her face and her boobs, coating them with a surprising (for her) amount of cum.

Joseph lay back silently. There was nothing further to be said. Finally looking up, he saw Karen's chest and cheeks coated with his essence. Bidding her to come forward he saturated her discarded panties with grappa, and cleaned her off as she stood impassively in front of him.

"You are ready for a lover now. It is time for you to discover the rest on your own. Go get some sleep, my little white flower."

She gathered up her clothes and still naked, she walked toward the cabins. He watched her hips and ass sway in the moonlight and she stopped and looking back over her shoulder, asked innocently, "Am I as good as her?"

She clearly hoped for his approval but also wanted an honest answer. Diplomatically, Joseph said simply, "You can be. Go and find out."

She disappeared down the deck and sitting up, Joseph rubbed his eyes with his fists.

Karen was still naked as she entered her cabin. She threw her clothes aside and fished out a camisole top and cotton panties from the drawer. She started to climb into bed, but stood there indecisively for several moments. Finally, she made up her mind, then turned slowly as if in a trance and opened the door.

She walked the length of the passageway and descended the spiral stairway, down to the level where Joseph's men slept. Her bare feet padded softly against the metal stairs. She already knew which cabin she wanted. It was right at the bottom of the stairway. With nervous hesitation, she turned the doorknob and entered. A wall-mounted light illuminated the room in a dim, soft light. She closed the door behind her and quietly stood there, not making a sound. The man in the bunk was a light sleeper. He looked at her, then sat upright. He slept naked, so she was able to take in his impressive physique with a single sweep of her eyes.

Without a word, she slid the spaghetti straps of her camisole down her shoulders then pulled it straight over her head. She let it flop onto the floor. In an instant, her puffy nipples stood out in the cool air and she turned from side to side, in the instinctive way that women seem to know, to give him a better view. She worked her thumbs into the elastic of her panties and she pulled them down forcefully. They fell in an untidy heap at her feet. In the dim light, she looked almost waif-like - perhaps like an alabaster statue with her pale skin visible by the little lamp illuminating the room. 

She stood in the middle of the small room, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. She forced a shy downcast smile.

Tentatively, she took one step toward the man. She cleared her throat and said softly, "Harun... I... Um."



Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 09



29.

Interlude 2: Michael at Lake Manengouba

While the royal yacht, the Malreine steamed into port, with Karen deflowered by Joseph's most trusted lieutenant Harun and Diane enjoying regular lusty couplings with his white-haired servant Lotar, other events were shaping the future for the Perry family.

Michael had been in the tribal areas with Joseph's family over three months now, and was well on his way to being transformed into a compliant, effeminate servant, ever ready to assist the tribe's women to gather and prepare vegetables, and more interestingly to assist in helping the women of the tribe bathe and dress for their men and occasionally enjoy watching their trysts and often their breeding. This latter activity was as exotic and sexually fulfilling as Joseph had promised him it would be. 

He had been dosed daily by the tribal herbalist cum holistic medicine woman with animal and vegetable derived hormones and psychotropic herbs she compounded for all the beta males of the tribe. Like her mother and grandmother before her, Mama Leone knew that this was the best way to keep the natural male urges of the betas from getting them beaten or worse, killed by the alphas. She inspected Michael each morning and was very happy to see the physical changes that removed him as competition in the breeding pool. He had begun to look markedly more female and less like the powerful alpha males of the tribe: 

She observed that his testicles had shrunk to the size of marbles and his penis had grown stubby and slender. His body hair was finer and had all but disappeared. His skin had grown soft and his hips fuller. Most importantly, Mama Leone was able to determine that his libido was clearly very shrinking rapidly.

She thought idly to herself that her medicines worked exceptionally well in feminizing the white males. This result was completely as she expected. At the same time, she was administering incredibly powerful animal and herbal compounds unknown to "civilised" medicine that had been commonly used to increase female libido and fertility since time immemorial. When white colonists had re-invaded and subjugated Mother Africa, there had in fact been a number of incidents (never spoken of in the world of whites) where the husbands, wives, sons and daughters of plantation owners had been slipped the very same herbs with the unsurprising result that a remarkable number of otherwise "pure" Africans could lay claim to a white mother's genes somewhere down the line.

Mama Leone knew of such stories, and with increased contact with Europe and America, she reckoned it would be necessary for her and her sister herbalists to find new sources of supply to insure the dominance of her people in the larger world. She had been supplying the Africa Rising Foundation in America with the several kilos of extract for the past few years, and at least suspected the purpose to which they were being put. She would not have been surprised to learn that they were being experimentally introduced in an ongoing set of experiments to render select husbands and boyfriends both sterile and unable to perform. 

She reflected that the Headman's brother Oluu, having hastily fled America, had brought with him a very pale red haired young woman, her belly big with one of his babies as well as the person who previously had been the girl's white husband, transformed far beyond the point at Michael now found himself. Michael was often puzzled when, either in the shared tent, or simply on a village path, he gazed at the husband from the rear. He couldn't tell the individual's gender at all. The thought that someone could be so completely transformed made him shudder.

Now at the end of the third month, Mama Leone noticed the small hillocks starting to protrude from Michael's chest, and how much thicker and darker both his aureolae had become. As a part of the daily medical inspection of the 'sister wives' (as they were referred to by both the men and women of the tribe,) she lifted his breasts and feeling their heft with the palm of her hand, smiled approvingly. She raised an eyebrow and thought to herself, this one is going to develop matiti that are going to make even a few of our women envious. She shook her head from side to side, chuckling as she smacked his butt cheek sending him off and mumbled softly, "Mama's medicines really do a job on these white boys!"

Beyond the class divisions between alpha and beta males, the tribe had few sexual taboos or prohibitions, and she knew that one or two of the tribal warriors who preferred fucking her beta male sister wives to women had already made him their bitch and had grown to prefer his soft lips and tight rosebud over the tribe's women. In a social structure such as theirs, there would always have to be such sister wives. In general the alpha men were quite protective of such males, and most were even affectionate towards them. One of them, a tall muscular warrior called Wellington Raele seemed quite taken with Michael's now lush body, 

Raele could occasionally be seen admiring Michael's long and silky hair, cascading between his shoulder blades, his rounded hips and his soft white skin. It was clear from the bite marks around her latest charge's nipples and aureoles that someone had been teasing Michael's little breasts between his teeth.

Although she suspected it was almost certainly Raele, Mama Leone didn't know for certain which of the wild and free spirited alphas had been fucking this one. She simply sighed and thought that as long as the ruling class was happy, it's all that mattered. She judged that he would be ready to receive his tribal scar and she turned him around and spanked his soft ass and traced her fingernail along his hairless butt cheek. She tousled his hair and pinched his cheek affectionately. 

This one is going to be rather adorable, once fully transformed. She thought idly that she might not even need to geld him and considered making him something of an assistant. It would be nice she told herself to have him massage her rough feet, worn and battered by decades walking and running barefoot on this hard land, lodged as it was between the savannas to the south and the desert to the north. She closed her eyes as she continued to stroke his hair, and in her mind's eye, she could see Michael kneeling before her, scrubbing, then drying her feet before rubbing them with coconut oil while she drifted to sleep.

She snapped back to reality, blinking in the glaring sun and shaking her head from side to side to dismiss the thoughts from her head. She told him in broken creole and Bantu to dress and get up the hill to the headman's tent. Although her English had become quite serviceable for someone with little exposure to the Western world, she preferred the efficiency of creole, thus she mostly gave him his orders in the clipped language.

Michael was needed as a liaison with the oil companies, and he would have to journey all the way to Ajuba to look over the new contracts for oil rights in an area on the Eastern edge of the tribal lands. Mama Leone was happy with Michael's growing competency in understand native tongue, and once again smacked his bare ass with the same affection she lavished on the tribe's goats. She had been instructed by Headman Teejan to withhold his herbal medications today to keep him sharp, focused, and aggressive in negotiations with the smug white oilmen two days hence. She hated to do it, knowing that when removed from the herbal tea, the males would grow restive and irritable.

Mama had been told by one of a pair of English scientists working under a grant from The Africa Rising Foundation that the combination of herbs was in fact more addictive than nicotine. They were amazed at their findings, and one of them, a postmenopausal female called Hermione, having heard the rumor that the herbs might have aphrodisiac properties brewed a pinch of the ground herbal powder into a tea one Monday night. Within thirty minutes, she was out the front door of her flat and down to the local pub. Three days later she had fucked a half dozen strangers and was still insatiable. At the end of the week, she had resigned her post and was on a plane to Nigeria.

Thus it was in fact, Hermione who had explained to Mama Leone of the remarkable properties of her herbs, and it was Hermione who now was working full time in improving synthesis and compounding techniques for Mama and the tribe. It was a literal labor of love as she found an unending trail of strong willing black lovers lined up at her tiny yurt each night to stretch her willing pink pussy. 

Even more, right after Hermione had received the gift of the tribe's scar on her right breast, signifying her high status she had become a willing and most able member of the tribe. To prove her loyalty and cunning, she had come up with a brilliant scheme for infiltrating, and ultimately controlling the future of the tribe's natural and mineral resources. Her scheme was so devious and so simple that when Teejan heard it, he belly-laughed so hard he fell over. It was essentially a plan in three parts.

First, oil cartel senior officers and their families would be selected by the tribe and required to live in country. Houses (lovely spoils of the old colonial plantation era) complete with staff, carefully chosen from the most appealing young tribe members would be provided to perform whatever tasks the families required.

Secondly, all three daily meals would have appropriate doses of Mama Leone's curious medications (now refined to a high potency by Hermione) added to them. Mama Leone would pay periodic visits to review current results and interview and train the staff as necessary.

Thirdly and most importantly, nature would be allowed to take its course. the wives would be bred then used to recruit more families. In due course, the oil cartel's families would be in thrall to the tribe, requiring daily medications and having babies whose lineage and obvious relation to the tribe would be very clear. Although lost in the mists of time the was ironically the approach used to conquer and enslave the Etruscan population almost three millennia ago - emasculate the indigenous males, make their women's' sex drive uncontrollable, and enjoy the result. 

She had explained the plan to Michael three months previous and he had negotiated the arrangement perfectly. As a result, three families (two Dutch and one English) all with wives still of childbearing age and children as proof of fertility were chosen. The families were actually excited to experience the otherworldly adventure of living in the African veldt and mountains and had been quickly moved in country two months ago.

After the first few weeks, increasingly stronger doses with each meal became the regimen and after one month the workers reported back positive results to Mama Leone who made her first rounds to the former plantations: All the wives were sneaking out nightly to visit black lovers and one of the lovers claimed that his assignations had already resulted in the report of a late period. The English wife whose period was overdue had been the first to fall, followed inevitably by both the others. One wife had held out for as long as three weeks, and when she finally succumbed, she was ravenous, almost wearing out the dark, well muscled warrior assigned to breed her.

This was the context in which Michael was to begin the next phase of negotiations. He walked up the small incline to Teejan's elegant multi-level yurt to receive his chief's instructions. As the sun bored its way through the leafy cover of the tribal village, Michael stretched lazily to help clear his mind. He really missed coffee in the morning he thought. Bemused, he considered that he would kill a charging rhino for a Starbuck's, but he conceded that the brew of whatever it was Mama Leone's white English assistant made for him and the other beta males daily carried a pretty good jolt, so he wasn't in dire need. Still, if he were offered a cup or two of coffee at any of the oil exec's houses, he would certainly not refuse.

He stopped suddenly in his tracks as two young girls attempted to cajole a small flock of goats through the village and into a field of wild grasses several meters distant. He heard their tittering laugh as they passed him, and experienced a sudden flash of anger. They clearly were pointing to him and one held up her forefinger and thumb for the other about a centimeter separated then nodded her head repeatedly at Michael. They both broke into gales of laughter and picked up the pace to hurry away from him.

At first such a comment on his manhood would have made him almost uncontrollably angry, but lately it didn't seem to bother him at all. This morning it did for some reason he was at a loss to explain. He was unaware that Mama Leone had withheld his hormonal medicines and tranquility inducing herbs for the last few days to prepare him for his excursion, and this was making him edgy and worse, allowing his testosterone to influence his emotional state.

Scowling at the retreating girls, he reviewed his current state: It was bad enough that he and the other two white males in the encampment were made to dress differently, wearing bright floral tunics that resembled tennis skirts in length and design. While the warriors were most times were attired in western style cargo shorts and tops (only donning breech cloths for ceremonial purposes), the 'sister wives' and some of the beta males were required by tribal custom to wear the tunics at all times. In the first weeks, this grated on Michael's western sensibilities and deeply offended his masculine pride, then after about a month of living in the tribal homeland, things abruptly changed, accelerated by a single incident.

30.

After accepting the command that he should live in the tribal homeland in an effort to understand Joseph's, Michael was assigned a yurt with two other males. At least he thought they were males. It was hard to tell, as all of them were required to wear the feminine tunics any time they were in the tribal homelands. This differentiated them from the men who were considered 'alphas' and allowed to have relations with the women. Michael knew that his own wife would be arriving in a month and would be one of those women, considered fair game by the local men, bred perhaps many more times, and her obviously swollen belly would be advertising both her willingness and her interest in the tribe's black men.

Michael grimaced, closed his eyes tightly to banish those thoughts from his mind, and although it recurred many times during the first couple weeks, he told himself that they would still be married after serving the tribe's interests for the two years for which he had been contracted as a business advisor to the tribe. He had gotten used to sharing quarters with the other two men, one of whom, another American who called himself 'Stevie' could scarcely be called a man. His skin and his muscles were both soft and feminine and his hair flowed over his shoulders like a young woman. Although Stevie was modest when changing from his tunic at night, Michael remembered seeing the outline of what seemed to be obvious breasts in the pale moonlight a couple nights. He frowned uncomprehendingly, little understanding that an identical fate awaited anyone who was in the particular role the tent mates shared.

Michael grew accustomed to the work he had been given - from teaching reading to the tribe's children to sweeping fire pits — and only reverted to western apparel and his 'officially contracted' role on the few trips to Ajuba to meet with the oil cartel executives. Most of his time though, was spent in tending crops, grinding grain and other chores that he shared only with tribal women. He got to know a few of them well, and was generally accepted as one of them. As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into first one month then a second, he felt more at home in his role, and although at first he had to fight against his male urges (the tunics were short and no other covering except for sandals was allowed), after the first month, he never became erect. He suspected it had something to do with the herbal medicines he was dosed with daily (he was told they protected him from various jungle maladies), but he couldn't be sure. He did feel more delicate, lighter, and more nimble after a remarkably short time, but though this was an effect of the healthy diet and pollution free living conditions. 

His assessment of his life was that he was generally contented though he chafed at not having been with his wife for months and knowing that she had been bred by the headman's powerfully built younger brother, the thought of her having Prince Joseph's black spawn in her womb had at first stimulated him to the point of pain and a need for constant release, but now Elizabeth, and in fact most of his former life were as dimly remembered as if he had been one of the lotus eaters of Greek mythology. The herbs that Mama had at first forced upon him, gave him such rich dreams and such a euphoric mental state that like those fabled lotus-eaters became pliant and easily influenced and complacent. He was unsure of his place here, a stranger in a strange land, until the course of his future life all came into focus over the course of a single day.

On that day, Michael had been assigned the task of finding and collecting an herb that was relatively rare and relied on tall trees to support its vining habit. He had no luck at all the first day and Wellington Raele, the alpha warrior who had been assigned to protect him was visibly irritated at Michael's lack of success. Further, he was bored and while Michael beat about the undergrowth, decided to go for a swim in a deep, clear pond fed by a small waterfall.

After a half hour hearing the splashing, Michael decided that he too needed some respite from the heat, and padded toward the cool water of the pond. He shucked the short tunic and sandals and walked timidly toward the pool. He had already picked up a scoop of the coconut oil and beeswax compound they used for soap here and decided a bath would be a nice treat.

He didn't want to anger the young man, or even attract his notice, but the pool was so inviting and the splashing water was merry and almost musical to his ear. Michael knew that Raele liked Stevie, another one of the beta males and regularly fucked him. During several nights, Michael had watched Raele perched behind Stevie and pistoning his long black cock in and out of Stevie who stoically welcomed Raele's mounting. He remembered seeing them one night when the moon was so full and bright that even the dense tree cover barely dimmed it. Stevie was looking over his shoulder at the dark, beautifully muscled man behind him and moved in hips in a circular motion in synchrony to the black man's thrusting body. Stevie smiled and gazed lovingly at Raele through dreamy, half closed eyes and after pulling the warrior's hands forward onto his small white breasts, began to visibly shake in a violent orgasm. This was followed almost simultaneously by a bellowing howl from the black warrior pistoning his huge cock, glistening with Stevie's moisture. 

Raele, shuddered and came with a force that woke Stevie from the afterglow of his own climax. Stevie appeared alarmed, but that changed to the satisfied glow that every lover acquires as a result of making their lover cum. Just before Raele collapsed onto Stevie's supine form, Michael remembered peaking at the young white body and thinking that if he hadn't known better, if would have been easy to mistake Stevie for a slender, sylphlike woman. His butt and back glowed with the sweat of his lover's exertions and it had excited Michael who could not take his eyes off the couple. 

Thinking back on it now in the pond, Michael's small dick began to stiffen as it had that night. He had been revolted by what he had seen, regardless of how excited he had become then and now. He was genuinely afraid of Raele, and had no desire to become another of his male harem. Although fearful of becoming a target for Raele's lust, he did secretly wonder what it would feel like to be mounted by him or to touch or even kiss his huge manhood. He visibly glared at his reflection in the water as he thought to himself, "What the fuck is happening to you, idiot. What the fuck are you thinking?" Even so, he remembered back to one of those 'mornings after,' when as he combed and picked little nits from Stevie's wavy blond hair that Stevie had remarked that he was in heaven and he would love to please Raele all night long. Michael was deeply confused and puzzled by the remark but let it slide.




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 09



He waded in and as his body caught the sun, Raele turned toward him abruptly. Raele noticed that Michael's skin was marble white and untanned where it had been protected by the tunic the 'sister wives' commonly wore. Michael's muscles had already started to soften which gave him a feminine, even delicate look. Although the mounds now more prominent on Stevies's chest were not yet in evidence, Raele like the way the white man's nipples had grown larger and were stiff in the breeze.

Michael was in the water up to his knees and Raele's eyes travelled up to the place between his thighs and he stared with amusement. He knew from being with Stevie, his enthusiastic lover, that the mass he spied there, already small would become absolutely tiny, to the point where the balls were tiny and the shaft was the size of a well developed clitoris. Raele obviously liked Michael's body - the way his waist curved in, the softness of his thighs, the docile look in his eyes and face made him leer. His black cock floating lazily under the water began to rise in reaction to the visual feast Michael presented to him.

He dove under the water and in two quick pulls of his well-muscled arms was within feet of Michael. He stood, gaining his footing and towered over Michael blocking out the sun. Michael squinted and shaded his eyes with his free hand as he looked up at the tall black warrior. Raele grabbed his other wrist and started to pull him further into the water. Michael's knees started feeling wobbly; why, he had no idea. Slowly, he understood he was feeling a mixture of fear . . . and something else though he couldn't quite put a name to that gave him a funny feeling in his loins.

The incident where he was forced to service Prince Joseph's cock after the powerful black man had climaxed inside Michael's wife Elizabeth suddenly flashed into his brain and then he knew what the 'something else' was - a confusing mix of self-disgust, deep aversion, and though he could barely face it, a deep desire for submission and a need to feel the same kind of ecstasy he witnessed Stevie experiencing with this same tall, muscular, coal black alpha male. He tried to deny it to himself. He trembled, gulped hard and tried to resist Raele's tug. Raele was unfazed and simply continued to pull the small wrist deeper into the pool.

When they were in over Michael's height, Raele lifted him and hugged him hard and then Michael felt the large lush lips encompass his now very sensitive chest and nipples. A wave of pure joy rippled all through his body. His small package began to stiffen again and although he resisted it, he reacted to the sudden deep kiss by placing his hands on the back of the warrior's neck to hold him, suddenly unwilling to have those lips parted from his skin.

Without knowing it, Michael stroked the coal black skin of the warrior's head and suddenly moaned. Then, on hearing himself, he came to his sense abruptly and pushed hard against the man's strong unyielding shoulders. It had no effect, but eventually Raele, stopped sucking the offered nipple, and released Michael who splashed and submerged before resurfacing. Raele looked at him then suddenly burst into a long lusty belly laugh. 

He grabbed Michael's hand, which still gripped the soap ball, gesturing with his eyes he said simply, "Wash!"

Michael paddled back to Raele, soaped his hands and started running them over the warrior's chiseled muscles. He soaped the dark hairless chest and swimming behind him, rubbed soap on the strong rippling back muscles. Sensing his role, he found the man's broad bicep and gently led him to a shallower spot. His tug was weak, almost feminine. He was already learning and knew intuitively that gentle persuasion, the way that a woman would softly influence a powerful man in her life, was the most appropriate for him to gain his way with Raele. Whether this was an effect of the strong and continuous infusion of estrogenic herbs or something that had, before Elizabeth began coupling with Joseph, been long latent he did not know. Nor did he want to search too hard for answers. 

Now having a solid footing, he began to soap the warrior's lower torso. Against his own logic, he wanted desperately to touch the strong black cock he randomly bumped against a few times already. He forced himself not to even think about how much he wanted to touch Raele and instead moved behind him. When he soaped his hand and began to rub it against the rock hard and prominent black ass, his heart leapt into his throat. The thought came unbidden into his mind that he wanted more than anything on earth to kiss the beautifully sculpted black skin and part the cleft there with his tongue. Shocked at the realization, he pushed himself violently away from Raele and splashed resolutely out of the pool.

Michael shook the water from his skin and quickly pulled the tunic over his head. Raele continued to bathe, rinsing the soap from his skin and blithely ignoring the little feminine rant that was taking place behind him on shore.

Michael stomped resolutely back into the jungle forest and started to resume his task. After another twenty minutes he found a plant that perfectly matched the sample given him by Mama Leone. In his joy, he failed to notice a nest of live red and black snakes in the hollow of a fallen tree. He reached forward just above the hollow the violently jerked his hand back to his body as he noticed the nest. He screamed before the sound was choked off, caught in his throat. He was happy to have avoided the snake brood, but had completely failed to notice the giant snake hovering over him, coiling to strike. He heard a sudden crashing through the bush and saw a naked Raele raise a machete and with one powerful downward stroke cleave the huge snake in two. The halves of the body plopped softly at Michael's feet, pulses of blood pumping out of the dying body. Michael shook and against all the western training about how a man must act, he reached out in desperation and fear, and hugged Raele and buried his head in the strong black chest.

This was perhaps the first moment when it became clear to Michael in the most visceral way that Mama Leone's feminizing medicines were both effective and hard at work. Had she been there, she would have cackled approvingly, judging it a fair payback to the white slavers having taken her ancient ancestors from a completely different part of Africa 400 years previous. Revenge was indeed a dish best served cold, and though she didn't know the expression, she would have heartily agreed with it.

Michael pushed himself away from Raele in total revulsion both at himself, at the powerful naked black man, and at the carnage at his feet. Folding his arms to his chest to cover his small breasts, now grown taut with excitement or desire - Michael didn't know which - he went to their makeshift campsite and, smoothing the skirt of his tunic under him, sat on a log. He neither saw nor heard from Raele for over an hour. The equatorial sun was sliding away and with it the remains of the day. Michael felt a small chill and not knowing what else to do, he started the campfire. He sat back down. When he heard Raele's plodding return, he quietly closed his thighs together, unconsciously adjusting his seated posture into a more demure pose.

Raele looked down and laughed at him. His command of English was minimal, but he managed to convey an explanation to Michael. He sat beside Michael and stroked the slender white man's hair. He patted Michael's face and said simply, "Burn nest. Kill all snake. Tomorrow better."

Raele suddenly brightened and showed what was in his other hand. He had caught and skinned two small lemurs, and tossing them to Michael, said, "Dinner. Cook!"

Michael showed no expression but more and more knowing and more importantly, internalizing his place in this strange new existence, simply nodded, gingerly took the rabbit-like offerings and began to skewer and spit them. They spoke not a word in the half hour or so it took to roast the animal. Judging it to be down, Michael handed the skewer to Raele then smoothing his tunic skirt under him again sat patiently at Raele's side. Raele pulled out his knife and carved off, then lustily shoved pieces into his mouth. Only minutes later did he carve off several smaller pieces and handed them to Michael, who softly murmured a "Thank you" to the warrior.

As it does so close to the Equator, night fell very suddenly and Raele and Michael disrobed (with Michael waiting until the warrior had stripped off and closed his eyes). They lay on separate sleeping bedrolls. Only a few minutes after Michael struggled to get comfortable, the sounds of the night began to frighten him in a way they hadn't the night previous. His heart started beating rapidly and he shook, probably as an after-shock from his earlier encounter with the snakes.

Suddenly it became too much. Without giving it a thought, Michael padded silently over to the pace where Raele rested on his side. He looked down and saw the dark eyes open. Michael lay down resting his head on Raele's strong left arm and pushing his back and bottom against the strong reassuring warmth of the hard black body. The night terrors quickly drained from the thin beta male and his comfort level quickly rose even further when he felt the heavy right arm pull him closer into the strong black torso. 

Sleep eluded him though as Raele's large palm tenderly massaged his chest and his nipples. He felt the sudden hardness pushing against his butt and his back and knew what he had to do. As he turned gracefully to face the alpha, and stare intently into the black eyes, he smiled for the first time the entire trip. He lowered his gaze respectfully and moved down the rock hard torso.

Suddenly and inexplicably filled with desire, gratitude, and perhaps something that was starting to feel akin to affection, he kissed Raele's chest and his belly and finally his lips found the wiry pubic bush. With absolutely no hesitation, he took the thick purple glans between his lips. His mouth was actually watering as he pulled back the long foreskin and licked, then kissed the hard shaft, inhaling the masculine fragrance of his protector. Raele reclined onto his back and opened his thighs. Although they both had to move, Michael's mouth never left Raele's cock for even a moment. Strangely, he began to feel overwhelmed with passion himself. Reaching between his own legs he squeezed his slender shaft and lazily rock his free hand back and forth.

Raele's urgent grunting and thrusting of his hips interrupted him. Michael stopped jerking his own little dick knowing that he should dedicate himself to pleasing his black master. As Raele thrust hard and Michael struggled to take more of the huge, thick cock into his mouth and throat, his hands ran all over the black man's skin. His hands found the black ass, tightened as Raele climbed toward orgasm. As he ran his hands over the warrior's butt, he was consumed by lust. Suddenly sucking harder and harder and squeezing the black ass with open joy and wild abandon.

Raele quickly climbed toward climax. His balls tightened and his cock convulsed and jetted cum in spasm after spasm. Although he was initially overwhelmed, even repulsed by the taste and feel of Raele's cum, he was both happy and fulfilled to feel it running down his lips and neck. Somehow he was feeling incredibly empowered in a way he had not since coming to live amongst the tribe's people.

As the spasms decreased then finally stopped, Michael licked his protector's cock completely clean only stopping to give the huge black balls a lick. In minutes, Raele gave himself over to sleep and Michael lay in the nook of his arm. For the evolving sister wife, the night was filled with dreams of warm meadows, tall green grasses and yellow flowers. 

They slept until dawn pried their eyelids open and Michael grudgingly allowed the break of day to pry him from the safety of Raele's embrace. He slid delicately from Raele's strong arm and as he stretched, Michael saw that Raele was sporting a huge erection. He smiled and, finally knowing his place, lowered his head to the beckoning black cock. As he licked his lips then opened them wide, he felt a curious sense of satisfaction and sexual fulfillment he would have been hard put to explain before coming to live amongst these people whose sense of gender and sexual role was much more expansive than almost anyone in the west would ever tolerate.

After that seminal incident freed him from the shackles of confined western thinking, and only a couple months later, he was accepting Raele and other warriors repeatedly and in every way possible. He had begun to look forward to the couplings with excitement and a stirring in his loins that was quite different to the masculine drives he had always experienced back home. The very idea of a black man penetrating him and the excitement and sexual fulfillment it regularly brought him would once have been so unthinkable as to make him uncontrollably angry. Now it was one of the centers of his world.

His days were filled with the mundane affairs of his role in the tribe and each night the anticipation of Raele or one of the other warriors bodies on his filled his mind, at least when he didn't think of his former western life and his wife and daughter. 

This morning, he walked up the small incline to Teejan's elegant multi-level yurt, and bowed low before him when entering. Teejan gave him his instructions and quickly dismissed him. Teejan was secretly uncomfortable with what Mama Leone had done to these 'sister wives' and disliked what the potions had done to Michael especially. Although he knew it was necessary to remove Michael from 'breeding contention' with his younger brother (and certainly with him, should he find the white woman attractive enough to breed) he felt that Michael had lost some of the warrior edge that had originally made him an effective negotiator.

Michael still had value to the tribe, but a very different one now. Still he thought, if the situation became too uncomfortable for the royal family, the white man gliding away from the lavish tent could be quickly dispatched. 

Early the next morning, Michael slipped from the strong embrace of one of the tribesmen, scrubbed cum from his bottom and legs, then dressed himself in western apparel: boots, khaki shorts, and an oversized matching top that disguised his much-changed torso. The clothes felt unfamiliar and uncomfortable to him, as though they were some sort of get up for a masquerade ball. The cargo pants were especially tight, as his hips had been steadily growing softer and more padded of late. He struggled them on, then ran outside.

The convoy of three Humvees, bearing their load of tribesmen, hanging on the sideboard armed with automatic rifles bounced over the naked plains to the east, raising plumes of dust as they sped over the dry grasslands. While the tribal center's lands were lush and protected by tall canopies of lush vegetation, this part of their kingdom was a dry grassy plain. Warriors often came to these outskirts of the kingdom to hunt for different game, to reconnoiter and to drive away the ever-present threat of Islamists from the north and east, and scavenging raiders from the south.

Michael jounced up and down on the hard seats in the covered rear of the transport truck. By his side sitting quietly, her hooded eyes closed, was Mama Leone. She seemed serene and untroubled, but Michael was jittery. He already wished he was back with the tribe and looking forward to his daily duties of domestic work, cleaning the camp and attending to the alpha wives' daily beauty regimen.

On previous trips, he had insisted Joseph's family travel to Ajuba and had always met the oil company executives in the big Marriot in a well-protected government area. He was much surprised to be told that his itinerary would have him traveling to visit the three families who had voluntarily relocated to be closer to the tribal homelands, and ostensibly (they were told) to be closer to the oilfields and to gain an appreciation of the tribal culture.

They arrived shortly before mid morning, and when the Humvees and trucks lurched to an abrupt halt, two armed warriors stationed themselves at the rear of his truck. Mam Leone was lifted gently from the truck and set down on the dusty soil. Michael leaned forward and strong hands gripped his waist and lifted him as if he were weightless. When he was deposited next to the wizened herbalist, his protector slapped his ass solidly and winked at him. Even though the huge black guard had never been with him or even shown an interest in him sexually, Michael had been put squarely into the category of "tribe's woman" and as such was fair game for any of the tribe's alphas. He shrugged and then dismissed the attention by casting his eyes shyly to the ground.

He picked up his kit and offered Mama Leone his arm. When they walked through the oversized porch and entered the open door of the large colonial era house, she reached into the pouch slung over her shoulder, then sprinkled some unknown herb on the threshold. The tiny eddy current caused by their passage swirled the herbal dust around the foyer. A young black woman servant (Michael recognized her as Mylea, one of the alpha females from the tribe) ushered them into a large library cum reception room by their host a genial, florid faced Dutchman called Jans deRugger.

The level of elegance in the room dazzled Michael; its finely crafted oiled teak panels and polished glassware reflecting the glow of the soft artificial lighting of the room. The high ceilings lifted both the eyes and the spirit. Michael nevertheless felt somewhat ill at ease by being thrust back into what was obviously recognizable as "white man's civilization" and it made him self-conscious. His hands unconsciously smoothed his sister wife dress tunic before he suddenly realized he wasn't wearing the dress as had been his normal wear for months.

DeRugger offered him a chair and had Mylea pour them both three fingers of brandy. They clinked glasses and deRugger took a healthy swallow. Michael started to drink but then caught Mama Leone looking at him. She was unobtrusively positioned in one of the room's corner, almost invisible. She hadn't been offered a drink, and was completely unnoticed by deRugger. To anyone from the tribe however she was an ever looming presence whose opinions and pronouncements on every aspect of life held every member of the tribal culture in thrall, and now Michael as much as anyone. When he saw the tiny shake of her head, and lifted eyebrow, he smiled at his host and quietly put the snifter on the adjacent side table.

They talked about the business elements of the visit over the next hour and both Mama and Mylea absented themselves to the kitchen. Mama reviewed the herbal stored and interrogated the young woman about changes in the family's behavior. Mylea was giving deRugger an herb that acted as a testosterone blocker, preventing him from getting an erection. For the sister wives, Mama used this in combination with an herbal estrogen extract that in addition to prohibiting 'normal' male function also softened and feminized them. Here though, the desire and the plan was to frustrate the European husbands, while amping up their wives' libidos.

Mylea had seen changes in both the master of the house and his wife and daughter. At first, he had lustily pursued her, which she had resisted for the first week, on Mama's instructions. She had already been bred by one of the tribe's younger men and when she finally yielded to deRugger's advances their coupling had been swift and perfunctory. Mylea thought to herself that if all whites were like him it was amazing that any offspring had been produced at all. She barely felt him cum and when he slipped back to his wife in the middle of the night she had to use her own hand to achieve orgasm. The next week, she went from quietly informing the master that she thought she might be late, to definitely confirming it.




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 09



DeRugger was absolutely devastated by the news. The fact that he might have a black heir with claim to his wealth was totally unthinkable and unacceptable. Shortly thereafter, he found himself unable to achieve or maintain and erection. That was especially frustrating as his wife had apparently been caught up with the romance of their exotic locale in Africa and was in exceptional heat every night, practically tearing his clothes off at bedtime. Unfortunately, her usually oversexed husband was in the parlance, "pushing a wet noodle". Her frustration had become clearly visible at the evening supper table and in every interaction with her husband. Every night she would take long baths and masturbate herself to multiple climaxes. At the same time, their daughter who had never been particularly interested in sex discovered masturbation and her first time solo had rubbed her clit and her pussy too sore to touch. They all were completely clueless that they were being manipulated, caught up in natural urges run amok by the infusion of special medicines from Mama Leone's almost magical herb factory.

Mrs. deRugger held out until the urges became too overwhelming and she had lately begun slipping out to their manservant's quarters. She had never felt such thrills and such ecstasy with a man and try as she might, she could no longer restrain herself from tiptoeing from her sleeping husband every night. One especially restless night, she decided not to bother returning to the main house and in one of the many couplings, she felt her lover's cum flooding her womb particularly deeply. Her orgasm was so gripping that she could barely maintain her sanity.

She had not yet discovered it but she had already been bred, and in two months it would be obvious to her and more importantly to her husband. Mylea reported all this to Mama Leone, who nodded sagely. They conversed softly in Bantu dialect and Mama Leone explained to her that she must now increase the level of the special hormones for the couple's virginal daughter. Mylea resisted saying, "Revered mother, these whites will become competitors for our men's seed. Our men will find them more appealing than those of us born to the tribe. I do not want to have to compete with them. In fact, I will not!" Mama Leone grabbed the girl's wrist and shook her vigorously. "Get a grip on yourself, girl!" the old crone growled, "Their fate is not to become competition for a high born one such as you! Besides, there is plenty of our men's seed to go around and we need both high and low born children. Do not forget that though their skin might be white, their wombs will bear only black babies once we bring them to our home to serve us." As an afterthought, she cackled and raising an eyebrow added, "Many black babies. Many!"

In the library, the talk moved from oil business to personal matters. DeRugger leaned over conspiratorially, and poured out the family situation to Michael. He hinted that he suspected that his wife had been unfaithful to him with the manservant, and he even thought that his precious daughter was beginning to look at the strong black man with smoldering desire.

He tiptoed around the delicate subject of his own impotence then, trying to act nonchalant, asked Michael whether the witch woman might have something to fan the flames of his flagging desire. Michael cringed at this, but knew or at least suspected the agency at work in this situation. He said he would explain the situation to Mama Leone and enlist her aid. Michael then asked what deRugger thought at first was a curious question, but based on his almost physical reaction to it, became even more curious.

Michael sat back in his chair, steepled his fingers and asked quietly, "Tell me, is there nothing that excites you? For example, how does the thought of your wife being with your manservant affect you?"

DeRugger growled and started to rise from his chair, his hands balled into tight fists. He shouted angrily, "Damn you man! Damn you! How dare you even bring up such a thing? Damn you, I say!" He visibly shook and only the sudden appearance of Mylea and Mama Leone at the door stayed his hand. Michael quaked visibly, and raised his hands to protect himself, but grew calmer when the burly man dropped heavily into his leather chair.

Now deRugger grew positively apoplectic, his face becoming beet red. He ran his hands through his salt and pepper gray hair trying to compose himself. He cleared his throat and said softly, "I'm sorry old man. Forget I said anything."

Seizing the moment, Mama Leone strode across the polished wooden floor and looked pointedly at Michael. He immediately rose and offered his chair to the witch woman. She told him in clipped English, "Pull the chair closer."

Michael scooted the chair so that is was within a foot of deRugger's. She nodded and bade him, "Leave us now." Then beckoning to Mylea, she handed her a small leaf-wrapped bundle and instructed her in Bantu, "Make us a tea. Make certain you do not drink from it! Do you understand?"

The young girl's eyes flashed as she nodded vigourously and left the room. When they were quite alone, Mama Leone gestured to the heavy Dutchman and spoke to him calmly. "Tell me my friend what troubles you. Leave nothing out! And do not feel embarrassed. Think of me as a healer, like one of your western doctors. Can you do this for me?"

DeRugger cleared his throat, and began at first hesitatingly, but then as she looked at him with what he perceived to be kind, understanding eyes he poured his soul forth to her. He spoke earnestly to her, "You see, even before coming to Africa, I've felt inadequate to umm . . . fulfill my wife's needs. Lately, it's become even more of a problem. When we first got here, I thought things were better. I was becoming umm, well . . . erect all the time, even without provocation. Then, well . . . nothing. And to make matters worse, I keep imagining that I see her looking longingly at that damned kaffir - our manservant."

Mama Leone's jaw tightening imperceptibly on hearing the old Afrikaans racial slur, but said nothing. The tea arrived and after Mylea poured, the witch told him to take a long draught to calm his nerves. The brew was in fact a mildly sedative hallucinogenic, and one that acted quickly and rendered the subject highly suggestible. She watched him relax before speaking again. Although English was not her native language, her command of it was actually very good, especially now with her assistant Hermione coaching both vocabulary and syntax.

"Would you like to regain your manhood? To have strong stirrings again? To have your manhood become as hard as teak?" she asked.

DeRugger's demeanor became totally placid, and with half closed eyes his nodded and his lips mouthed a soundless, "Oh yes."

She placed her hand on his knee and whispered, "Would you like your wife to be inflamed by passion for you again, willing to do anything you tell her; ready to serve you in any way?"

Now deRugger's face lit up and a broad smile crossed is face, "Oh yes. Yes," he cried out.

Mama told him sharply, "Shhh! Quiet!" then went on, licking her dry cracked lips. She switched her untouched cup for the one he had drained then lifted the cup to his mouth, "Drink some more tea, master," she suggested. He readily quaffed the entire cup, fed steadily to him by Mama.

"Excellent. Very good," she said grinning at him. "Here is what will happen. I am going to give you a powder that will make your root strong and hard again. But I will have something from you in return, do you understand?"

A frown crossed the Dutchman's face, "What is this thing? What would you have of me?"

Mama Leone almost cackled at her cunning and the ease with which she controlled this pliable fool. She composed herself, forcing a serious look onto her lined face. "The . . . 'kaffir' as you call him, is called Stephen Mwanga, and a precious member of our tribe, but he is very naïve in the ways of the world and of men and women."

At that, deRugger, his eyes now fully closed frowned slightly but continued to listen attentively. She smiled and raising one eyebrow, went for the kill. "The price of regaining your manhood is this: Your wife must teach Stephen the ways of men and women. When you take the powder I am about to give you, you will be so masterful that she will be unable to resist your mastery."

She let that sink in and began again, "You must bring both your wife and the 'kaffir' to your bed and in your sight she must seduce him, then take him as many times as possible. As the night grows long your manhood will grow harder and harder, but . . . and this is the difficult part . . . you must not touch yourself. You may observe and enjoy, but you cannot take part or the . . . " here she grasped for the right English words, " The . . . 'medicinal effect' will be lost and you will have to begin all over."

She released her grip on his leg. His lower lip was trembling. He stuttered, "I . . . I . . . I don't know if I can do such a thing. I . . . I . . . This is too much." Although his eyes were closed and his body relaxed, he shook his head from side to side trying to resist her hypnotic voice which droned on, "Yes. Yes Mr. Jans. You WILL do this. You will come to enjoy it and the control it gives you over your woman. You WILL do this or your manhood will be lost forever. Say it for me - you wife is the price for your manhood. Say it." 

"My . . . my wife . . . is the price . . . she is the price for my manhood."

She patted his hand and said, "Good. Good. You will come to relish watching your wife submit to your will and teach young Stephen. It will excite you beyond your imaginings. You will believe that, yes?"

"Yes, I will enjoy watching her with him." The hypnotic potion had him fully in its grip now. A rush of excitement coursed through his penis. Mama continued, "Very good, very good Mr. Jans. Keep your eyes closed for me and imagine your wife with Stephen. Can you see them?" His eyelids flickered and he acknowledged her saying, "Yes. Yes, I can see them. She is opening her nightgown wide for him. The night breeze is blowing it away from her body. Oh god, I can see her pale skin in the moonlight. Her hair is being lifted by the wind."

He swallowed hard and with a flick of her eyes, Mama bid Mylea back into the room. Mama looked down at the white man's trousers and the clearly growing bulge. Softly and silently Mylea, unzipped him and fished for his small hard member. She knelt down and covered him with lush, full lips.

Mama Leone asked, "Do you see them? Tell me more."

"Oh god yes," he continued. "I can see his dark hands stripping her gown from her, forcing her to her knees. I can see . . . Oh god, I can see her mouth opening to take him. Oh god . . . I can see her leading him to our bed. She's . . . "

He licked his thin, dry lips and he was straining to see the vision through tightly clamped eyelids. "I . . . I can see her opening her legs and reaching up to him. "

With this, Mylea's head began to bob quickly as she took his small, white, uncut dick deeply into her throat. Like so many of the tribe's alpha women, she was skilled at the art of pleasure. DeRugger's groans and the rapid rise and fall of his chest bore witness to her skills. Mama Leone said, "Yes, continue. Go on. Keep your eyes closed"

His eyes clamped tighter as he struggled to focus both on the feeling between his legs and the vision Mama had planted in his unconscious. He fumbled for words, "They . . . they're fucking hard so hard and he's . . . Uhhh . . . "

Now the white man was in the verge of orgasm. Mylea slowed the pace after a small tap on her shoulder from Mama Leone. The witch knew it was critical for her subject to fully explore the vision to its finale. He continued, "I can see his blackness and Trina's legs wrapped around his back. Now he's . . . he's cumming inside my wife. And she is moaning loudly. And he keeps coming harder and harder. Oh no. No! What have I done!"

He shook his head from side to side and he clenched his jaw. Mama Leone pulled the girl backwards now and she stuffed deRugger's turgid member back into his pants. She backed out of the room softly. Mama continued, "Shhh! No, no, my friend. Everything is fine. Trust me. You must concentrate on this vision if you hope to become a real man again. Do you understand?"

He nodded his agreement, and she went on, "I want you to fall into a deep sleep and when you awake, you will remember nothing of our conversation. You will see a small pouch on this table next to you and when you do, you will know what must be done. 

Tonight, you will ask Mylea to brew the leaves into a tea. You will drink it and then do as your vision and your desires direct you. You may not know why you want these things, but you will be unable to resist their pull. This is clear, yes?"

The white man shook his head then slumped into the folds of the chair. Within moments he was snoring loudly. Mama Leone showed Mylea the small canvas wrapped pouch and told her to make certain to see to it that deRugger picked up the pouch when he awoke.

The session between the herbalist and the master of the house lasted almost an hour and during this time, Michael had been sitting with both deRugger's wife and daughter. They talked of life in Africa and how it differed so dramatically to their life in Europe. Several times, Stephen the house's man servant walked by the broad veranda and each time, both wife and daughter appeared transfixed by the huge, muscular figure, his skin glistening in the African sun. Even Michael got a lump in his throat when he saw the young man.

Mylea interrupted their conversation saying, "Mama says time to go."

With that Michael bid a fond farewell to the mother and daughter and drained his cup. At least he had gotten to taste his much missed coffee. The visit had been fruitful in business terms, but the little armed band had two more stops to go before nightfall. Without even passing the library and the sleeping Mr. deRugger, he took his place in the covered truck beside the now smiling Mama Leone. The Humvees and trucks sped off on the rough unpaved road.

That night at that former plantation and two more like it, a series of bizarre events took place that not one of the white oil executives or their wives would be able to explain. 

31.

Interlude 3: Elizabeth and Joseph arrive at Lake Manengouba

While Michael had been in the conditioning program to make him an obedient cuckold and attendant to the many women of the tribe, and Joseph had been onboard ship, Elizabeth had been back in Rome, getting her first pregnancy checkup and preparing to meet Joseph's brothers in Africa. After a long day at the doctor's, filling out papers and being tested and examined, she was back in their tiny flat pacing back and forth in the miniscule kitchen. She pulled out a chair from the oak table and slumped into the seat. She stared into space and looking at her nails started biting a stray one as she began to think.

Now that her pregnancy by Prince Jusef had been confirmed, Elizabeth was actually relieved in some ways. Her decisions had been made for her and there was no turning back. Her thoughts wandered back to the fateful moment when she discovered she was carrying the prince's child. That's when everything changed for her she thought. Before that moment in a drab disgusting pharmacy toilet when peeing on the nondescript white piece of plastic confirmed that she truly was now and for the rest of her life, a black man's woman, all possibilities had still been open for her.

She could have kept her marriage intact, with Michael supplying her the facade of normalcy and propriety that a white American husband represented, and Joseph providing the entire sexual gratification one woman could hope for. Eventually, she could have ended her addiction to Joseph's hard black cock, and the way he reaffirmed her femininity when he fucked her. Eventually, she could have forgotten the way his hard muscles felt as she gripped them in the middle of an orgasm. Eventually, she could have forgotten the randy masculine smell of his cock and the taste of his thick cum, and the way he dominated her as he guided her head on his cock as she struggled to take all of him into her throat. Eventually, she would be able to forget how he looked when she, on her knees, looked up at his black belly and sucked him devotedly. At least that's what she told herself as she sat impassively feeling the weight of everything. Eventually, she thought. Eventually. 

Now all of that had been foreclosed. Her life would now be with a man who might not even be hers exclusively, who came from a culture so remote from hers as to be barely comprehensible. She was now at the moment of acceptance.

There had been moments over the last month when she secretly cursed her condition and had thoughts of flying to the U.K. to abort her pregnancy. Every time she considered that as an option though, she immediately banished the thought, fearing what Joseph might do should he ever find out. It was the irony of her life that she both craved him and felt at times repulsed by him, and the changes he forced on her life. On the one hand, she had never experienced anything like him before in her life-no woman, certainly no white woman who had never been with a dominant black man could truly understand what it felt like to be a real woman, she thought. The way he could bend her to his will sexually, and could give her earth-stopping climaxes over and over in bed was simply astounding. She simply could not stay away from him any more than an addict could resist their drug of choice. 

On the other hand, there were consequences to her addiction to him, and her current condition was one of them. She was fertile, and no matter how cautious she might have been in trying to avoid sex at the time of month when she was at the peak of her fertility a black baby was going to emerge from her womb in a matter of months. In truth, and perhaps not known to Elizabeth, her husband Michael was complicit in making sure she was actively fucking Joseph at her most fertile moments in the month Joseph bred her.

Now, the world would know that not only she had been fucked by a black man, but also that she had submitted willingly to a man whose color marked him as an inferior, at least in America. Now the world would know that someone that could not possibly have been her husband had bred the prim upright white wife.

She shuddered involuntarily and pounded her small fists on the kitchen table as she considered the reaction of everyone she and Michael had ever known in their marriage. 

This was something that could not be explained away to her charitable works society or her book club in Indiana. In addition, Michael would certainly be of no help in defending her, and judging by the state of his erections before he left to work and live more directly with Joseph's tribe, he was as sexually excited by her being bred as she had been to feel the strong jets of her lover's cum flooding her womb. She caught her reflection in the iPad she picked up from the table and frowned at her visage. No Elizabeth, she thought, you have no one to blame but yourself. You were as happy and willing as Michael to hand your wedding rings over to Joseph when he demanded them as a demonstration of their loyalty to him. You were always happy to spread your legs for him, guiding his black cock and spreading your pussy lips with your lily-white hands. You were always willing to squeeze the last drop of cum from his cock as he thrust hard into you. Again she pounded her fists on the table then tossed the iPad aside, slid the chair back and started to make her way to the bedroom - the bedroom where Joseph had taken her repeatedly on her matrimonial bed and forbidden Michael to ever fuck her again.




Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 09



She started to strip off her loose fitting yellow sundress to prepare for a shower. Joseph's limousine would be here in an hour to take her to the airport to meet him in Lagos. They had Skyped nightly as his yacht made its way down through the Mediterranean and around the African coast. He had assured her that her sister Diane and daughter Karen were being well taken care of, though only he knew just how well. They had both been with his lieutenants and on his explicit orders, but he felt no reason to tell Elizabeth that. The one time Diane popped in on the call, she seemed almost joined at the hip with a rail thin, white haired and bearded black man who stood behind her looking possessive, and whose hands though out of the picture seemed to be roaming all over her ample hips. Just last night they Skyped as they were making for port. Elizabeth had managed to cajole Joseph into getting her daughter Karen onto the screen. She was surprised at how pale and wan Karen looked, almost like someone on drugs. Karen couldn't seem to focus or meet her mother's gaze and wandered away walking gingerly as though in pain. Joseph's man Harun came into the picture for a split second and seemed to have taken Karen by the wrist and led her away out of view. Seeing the worried look on the white wife's face, he took pains to assure her that Harun was taking good care of the girl and she was simply suffering a touch of mal de mère from the rough coastal waters.

In truth, Elizabeth's daughter had been dosed daily with an herbal medicine also compounded by Mama Leone, and that had kept her compliant and easy to manage. That she was walking as though sore was certainly a function of the pounding she was receiving from Harun whenever he felt in the mood, and he felt in the mood often. Joseph had said he wanted the girl pregnant by the time they arrived in Nigeria, and Harun was happy to oblige.

Harun didn't think much of the skinny, waif like girl in the beginning, but she had become more interested in, and much better at fucking as the journey stretched out over the weeks. The first night, when she appeared quite unexpected in his cabin and stripped off then offered herself to him, he could scarcely believe she was real. She was so pale that she might have been an apparition, and she was terrified and unresponsive when he shoved into her feeling her cherry snap in the first second. It was as if she was under a spell. Harun decided later that Mama Leone's mojo must indeed be powerful to have influenced her to come to him that night. In the following days though, it was quite clear that she was real and whenever she came to his bed was becoming a real women. He often kissed and sucked her tiny breasts and licked her body lasciviously before pushing her tight pussy lips apart and stretching her with the head of his mammoth black cock, and he now he could feel her body heating up as she reached up to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders. He loved to look down her torso as she flexed her belly muscles to thrust her hips up to meet him. He could see the wetness from his precum clinging to her soft blonde pussy hair and sometimes came simply from seeing his cock stretching her cunt and the fervor with which she met his pounding with her own counter thrusts. 

Secretly, there were times she could barely tolerate the hot, disapproving stares of people around them in the city when she was out with Joseph. She knew that many people, especially Italian men, still looked disparagingly at a white woman on the arm of a black African male. She herself would have secretly sneered derisively a year ago had she seen herself pregnant, although barely showing. When she ran her hands over her torso now, there was only the slightest hint of a bulge there. It was firm "baby bump" rather than a pronounced swelling though. Her breasts were incredibly tender though and her nipples seemed sore all the time.

She hadn't felt these aspects of her physicality since she was pregnant with her daughter Karen 18 years ago. Ironically, Elizabeth had for the last few weeks felt perpetually horny and ready couple with the prince at the slightest indication of interest. 

Elizabeth has flown ahead as the prince was anxious to present his beautiful raven-haired white trophy to the Auncumbi siblings, and in particular his older brother Headman Teejan. Joseph had also learned that his eldest brother Oluu (whose adopted American name was Hank) had hurriedly left the U.S. along with a young woman whom he had bred in tow. Joseph had Skyped with Hank and the young woman whom Hank called Laura, and seeing her on screen, he had to admit she was stunning. Her vibrant red hair and creamy white skin made his cock twitch in anticipation. He could barely wait to fuck her and seeing her swollen belly and the way she looked subserviently up at Hank, he already knew she enjoyed black cock. He laughed as he considered that his fat brother had probably stretched her pussy out nicely.

He had not yet told Elizabeth that he would have to share her with his brothers and he wasn't looking forward to the prospect with any relish. Ordinarily as youngest brother, he was never allowed to touch much less share the Headman's women. 

The same was true of touching his eldest brother Hank's women, but that was more out of a sense of respect than tribal custom. Hank had been passed over by their father as his successor on the grounds that he was much too soft and less of a warrior than his middle brother. Hank had not minded, especially as things turned out. He had gone to Princeton and then to medical school, all the while living a life of total privilege. He has lost count of the number of women of all races he had bedded. Later, his gynecology and obstetrics practice plus the activities of Africa Rising had been extremely fulfilling. Only when he and Laura whom he had bred fled, a step ahead of the police did a return to Africa seem an appealing alternative.

Now all three brothers would be together in Nigeria, with their women. Now they would seek to consolidate their hold on the Europeans who believed they were exploiting the tribal "primitives." But with threatening militants at their tribal areas storm clouds of war were gathering, the reunion would be anything but trouble free.

Joseph stroked his chin as he looked over a view of his homelands on Google Earth on his monitor and began to plan for the future. Over his shoulder, his most trusted lieutenant Harun, his dark eyes unreadable in the reflected glow of the computer, planned too.