Okay. This is not a quick straight to the sex piece so if that is what your are looking for, please either move on or scroll down. ;-)
I wrote it as more of a story that happens to have sex in it too. I hope you enjoy.
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Her young African breasts called to me. I mean so strongly that it felt like a literal calling. Whenever she walked by I saw them move and wanted, more than anything, to squeeze them and put them into my mouth. After a week of this, my mind was, frankly, foggy. And then it dawned on me; this is exactly what my wife and I were talking about when we reached our someone unusual marriage agreement.
Before we got married, some 10 years ago now, we had a talk. What is fidelity? To us? In our marriage?
We know what it means to the Pope. And we know what it means to most people; but did it mean that for us? We were both clear that we didn't want to have an outright 'open' relationship where we were off fucking others on a regular basis but we wanted to balance that with a mutual desire not to hold each other back.
Frankly, it started with me. About a year before our engagement I realized that I didn't want to get married if marriage was about restriction. In other words, I really liked the idea of committing to spending the rest of my life with my soul mate but I was not so excited by the idea that that commitment also gave my wife-to-be a monopoly on physical affection and sex in my life. I had been married once before and my wife abused that monopoly position frequently.
And so, after watching Friends one night (the one with 'Reserved Lists) my new wife-to-be and I had a talk that started off with me saying, "Honey, I couldn't blame you if you had a chance to shag George Clooney. I could forgive that."
She then explained that I could, should the opportunity arrive, have sex with Charlize Theron. As our respective lists grew, I asked her an important question:
"What about a non-celebrity?"
She was a bit surprised and then asked me if I was wanting an open relationship. "Not exactly," I told her. "But what if I was away on business and a very hot woman approached me looking for sex; should I say no?"
She sat back and thought about it before answering. "I guess I thought you wouldn't be tempted."
"Are you saying you could never be tempted?" I asked. She shook her head, acknowledging the truth.
This conversation led to a new understanding: We could stray occasionally, provided that it was not a regular thing with any one person, that it would be discreet and that the sex was safe.
And until I arrived in Kenya, no such opportunity had made itself known to me.
And now, as I sat around the fire in an amazing nature park, I contemplated Kiela, one of the staff working at the lodge. First of all, she is black. Really black. I had never been with a black woman before. Secondly, she was young. Half my age young. Still legal, of course, but young. And third, I realized the impracticality of the deal I had struck with my wife: How do I approach this gorgeous vision of womanhood and explain that despite my wedding ring, and my being (probably to her) and old man, that we should have sex.
And so I smiled to myself and settled for just watching her move; serving drinks, putting another log on the fire, laughing at our silly jokes and generally being amazing. Her skin was as smooth and smooth gets. Her hair was close-cut to her scalp in a way that a white woman just can't get away with. Her teeth with so perfect, white and straight. And her body was, well, to die for. She had long toned legs; probably from all the walking in the wilderness. Her bum was, well, perfect. Her belly was flat and she had the most delightful and perky b-cup breasts I had ever seen. Or at least, seen through clothing.
Three hours later; long after dinner and shortly after the rest of the guests had disappeared to their tents, Kiela and I started talking. First about the lions and elephants we had seen in the day and then, gradually, to more serious topics like marriage. In her tribe, she explained, it was quite common for a man to have more than one wife. Not in our world, I explained. In fact, I told her, it was against the law.
She was shocked,
"What right does the government have to tell you how many people to love?" she asked. I titled my head to one side; curious why she was able to see that so clearly.
She asked about my wife; what did she look like? What was her personality? I told her. And then she asked me, "And you have had sex with your wife?"
I was, understandably, surprised at the question. Both because of the strangeness of such a question and, more so, because of the intimacy.
"Yes, of course we do." I told her, "Often."
"And does she like it?"
"Yes, she does."
"My mother does not." She said, sadly. "She told me that sex is painful and something that a wife is forced to do from time to time and is really only meant for making babies but men abuse the privilege quite often."
"Do you enjoy it?" I asked. And she blushed; which is quite a feat when you consider how dark her skin is.
"I don't know." she said. "I have never....." she broke off, looked away and down.
I was at a loss for words and ended up saying the only thing I could thing of, "Well, when you do, it can be nice. Very nice. It might be painful the first time but with the right partner, it can be a very nice experience."
She didn't answer. For a long time. The fire started to die down and the soft firelight reflected off her dark skin. She was so beautiful it was hard to breathe. And then she spoke, and breathing went from hard to, well, impossible for a time, "Would you show me?"
My inability to breathe made talking just as impossible and, after a few long seconds, she became uncomfortable and I thought she might leave, embarrassed.
"Kiela," I started, still unsure where I was going with my sentence. "I would love to. It would be my honor."
Her face lit up and she looked right into my eyes, "Really?"
"Yes. Really. But you need to know some things and I need to know some things."
"Your wife?" she said, crestfallen.
"No, my wife is fine with this, I am sure." I could not think of a situation more suited to our agreement than this one. No, I was not worried about my wife. "Safety is my issue. You have really never been with anyone before, ever?"
"No." she said, "A boy kissed me about two months ago and squeezed one of my breasts. I slapped him and nothing more happened."
"I am concerned," I said, "I don't have any condoms."
She was again puzzled; she didn't know the english word for condoms but once we mimed it out, she knew what I was talking about. And, sadly, she didn't have any either. We talked about this and I told her, "My wife and I have been married for 10 years and we are both clean and healthy." Since neither my wife or I had acted upon our agreement, we were both clearly STD free.
And so, with all that out of the way, the awkward moment came up; how do we start?
I shifted her position so that she was sitting between my legs, back to my chest and facing the fire. And I rubbed her neck and shoulders. It was amazing; for both of us. I mean amazing. It felt like electricity was running straight from her body into my fingers and judging from her occasional moans and gasps, the massage was working for her as well. Since she was wearing an open collar shirt, I was rubbing her shoulders through the shirt and decided to pull it down from her shoulders and rub her bare skin. At first it was too tight but then she undid two of her buttons and her shirt fell off her shoulders easily.
"How does that feel?" I asked, working her young muscles.
"Amazing," she said, "Is this really sex?"
I giggled softly. "This is the start."
I pulled her shirt lower and she let it fall more. She undid the balance of the buttons so that it could fall to her waist. Now I could see why her breasts moved so nicely under her shirt; she was not wearing a bra. I still couldn't see them, but knowing that they were exposed in the firelight right in front of me made me instantly hard. I expanded the range of my hand movements to include her sides and, by extension, the sides of her breasts. First contact caused her a small flinch and a sharp intake of breath. I cupped them both; she relaxed and leaned back into me. Her nipples were really hard against my palms so I squeezed them gently, causing her to moan slightly.
Soon, I was rubbing her flat belling and wondering (she she was still facing away from me) what my white hands looked like on her black belly. While rubbing her belly, her chest and making occasional trips to her nipples, I started kissing and licking her neck. We were both fresh from the shower before dinner and she had a delightful clean smell mixed with an exotic personal scent on the surface of her skin. As my right hand moved down her belly toward her belt line she sucked in her stomach and made space for my hand to slide in; I was rewarded with a moist warm situation.
I worked my fingers under the band of her panties and down toward her pussy; her hair was soft, yet course. I stroked it gently, inspiring a few more moans from her and pushing her breath rate up a notch. I ran two fingers — one on each side — up the sides of her pussy and she squirmed; trying to get my fingers onto, or perhaps into, her pussy. I kept rubbing the outside and slowly got closer and closer; the heat radiating from her pussy.
I then positioned on finger at the entrance... just touching it. She squirmed down toward my finger, trying to pull it into her. I slide it part of the way in and was delighted by how wet an slippery she was. Now I wanted to see her so I slid out from behind her and lay her back where I had been sitting. I kept playing with her silky slippery pussy the whole time; she barely noticed that I had moved. As I played with her pussy I looked down at her body; it was amazing.
Her black skin was glowing by the firelight and was flawless. Her tits were perhaps the most amazing boobs I had ever seen; they were perky, round and so dark. I immediately wondered how they would look covered in my white cum.
I stepped up the pace a bit on her pussy and then I leaned forward and kissed her on the belly; she protested slightly but didn't stop me. I kissed lower. And then lower again. But I did it so slowly that her protests ended. I slide two fingers into her virgin pussy and then, pressing up on the inside wall, I leaned forward and kissed her pussy lips; she was shocked. He took a sharp inward break and tensed up completely; but she didn't try to stop me. I could tell she wanted to but that she also did't want to. Slowly working my fingers in and out of her pussy, I started circling my tongue around her pussy lips and then, soft, onto her clit. She moaned loudly and pushed her hips forward into my face.
And then she came. It was a gorgeous thing to witness; the sounds that came from her lips, the look on her face and everything else about her orgasm was beautiful to me. I kept kissing and softly licking her clit until the orgasm passed and then I looked her in the eyes; her big dark and very moist eyes.
