The call from a family member set things going. It was innocent enough. Would we look after a young visitor from Africa for a week or so? He was over on a sponsored trip to visit benefactors who had contributed towards his education at a school run by a religious order. He was, we were told, a little naΓ―ve about worldly matters, and a stay with people a little closer to his own age might be just the thing he needed. At the time in the early eighties we were living near London. There was a spare bedroom and my wife Jo had given up work for a spell to look after the two children. So, we said fine, let's have him stay. As to us being closer to his own age he was in his very early twenties and we were in our thirties so there was quite a gulf. And we were not at all sure what we were supposed to be doing with him. But it was arranged we would meet Ruhi one weekend at the local station where the eastbound train would duly drop him after he had changed at London.
That day we'd had a trip into town with a bit of shopping and the usual ice-creams for the kids. It was not difficult to spot Ruhi coming out of the station. Weekends were quiet and he was the only jet-black person getting off the train. Not tall, just a little over our modest height, trim but not too slim, and with a surprisingly mature thoughtful looking face under thick short curly hair trimmed western style. He seemed relaxed and wore his denim outfit as if he had grown up in it. We introduced ourselves and he replied in measured careful English as we shook hands. Small talk got us back to our place, we showed him his room with which he seemed delighted, and that was that. We had a new house guest.
That night as Jo and I lay in bed we discussed the new arrival.
"What are we going to do with him?" I asked. "I'll be at work and once the kids are at school, you'll be left with the task of keeping him amused somehow".
"That could be fun", she replied, cuddling up and moving her leg gently against mine. I let my hand drift between her legs and she pushed her mound up against me. I moved to open her cunt lips and found she was very very wet.
"So, what do you have in mind?" I began teasing her clit.
"I might take him to the pool. If he hasn't got trunks I'm sure a pair of yours would fit. Quite tightly I'd say", she added, as she thrust up and down against my busy fingers.
"So, you fancy sizing up his package, do you? You crafty wee mare! Are you planning to cause some swelling in that area perhaps?"
Jo has a great figure. "All tits and bum" is her self-deprecating description, but I'm fine with that. Especially the bum bit. Like most women who've had children she doesn't like bikinis, but she does look great in a swimsuit. And she can be a real tease. But these flashing thoughts had led to a serious bout of swelling on my part. Time to do something about that.
"You haven't got the hots for him already?" I rolled over and slipped easily inside her soaking cunt, "Have you?" I began thrusting. This was going to be very quick.
She reached down between us to play with herself, "God yes!!" she cried "Yes! Yes! Oh God yes!!" And suddenly I was squirting inside her, she was thrashing about, and we collapsed sweaty and breathless holding each other tightly.
"What the hell happened there?" I asked.
"Your fault asking all those silly questions. Time for sleep now", she replied. And sleep we did.
Next day was work for me as usual. When I got home the kids were squabbling in the lounge-diner and Jo and Ruhi were in the kitchen. It seemed the nuns might have taught Ruhi to cook and we were going to have something spicy with wraps. Ruhi explained that it was fairly easy to do a version of the meat dishes, but the African bread he favoured was not available so we would have to make do. I made myself useful seeing to drinks. Making do was perfection and the kids enjoyed the change too. After they had gone to bed, we relaxed with our drinks. Ruhi and I were next to each other on the sofa and Jo sat opposite in her lounger. I asked how their day had been.
"Good, thank you", Ruhi said. "Jo has looked after me very well. We went to town and walked round the shops. Then lunch in a cafΓ© and after went for a swim in the town pool. It's quite a big one. I splashed around a lot. I can't swim very well."
"You were fine," said Jo. "Nothing a bit of practice won't fix. And we need to get you a pair of trunks. Guy's don't fit very well. They are old ones from when he was younger and slimmer!"
"That's home cooking and beer for you," I admitted. "So, tell us about your school. Was it mixed boys and girls or all boys? And what are your future plans now you've left? Tell all!"
Ruhi told us it had been a segregated school run by nuns on quite strict lines. After he left, he had gone back to his village to help on the family smallholding for a couple of years or so. He would like to train as a doctor but medical school was expensive and although he had the necessary exam results his family didn't have the money.
"So, this is a sort of sponsored fund-raising trip?" I asked.
"Yes, in a way."
I changed tack. "Do you have a girl-friend back at home?"
"No," he replied.
"But do you like the ladies?"
"Oh yes. And you are very lucky to have such a handsome wife!" Jo smiled appreciatively at the flattery. Smooth operator, I thought. Maybe he was not as naΓ―ve as the official line would have it.