With the chaos of the airport traffic left behind, the limousines sped along the long straight road towards the city. Sahar spoke calmly into her phone ordering her three children in the limousine behind her to behave and that they would be at the hotel soon. She could hear them chattering excitedly in the background as the nanny reassured her she would keep them quite.
Sahar smiled to herself, hung up and poured herself a very large single malt, lay back in the deep leather seat and closed her eyes. Whisky was her favourite tipple and nothing better than drinking it in the limo all by herself as the lush African countryside flashed by.
The Empress hotel in Bongojabu city had been chosen by her husbands PA for its opulence, children's entertainment and world class service. It was one of only three 5 star hotels in the impoverished country of Mandingoland, where Sahar's husband had based the family oil exploration business.
The signs of new found oil wealth in this tiny African state were clear to see. Chinese built tarmac roads, a shiny new airport, safari trips, a democratic government and stability. All to occupy Sahar and the children, while her husband ignored them as he occupied all his time grabbing as much of the oil as he could for the Rhahabi royal family back home!!
What an awful way to treat an Arab princess thought Sahar as she languished in the bath. Well at least he would be there for the dinner with the President and local dignitaries. He made no attempt to hide his racist contempt for the natives, but business is business!
Sahar on the other hand felt the people of Mandingoland should benefit from the oil boom and told her husband, his cousin the prince and his uncle the King whenever she got the opportunity. They laughed at her altruism.
With the children put to sleep Sahar made ready for the banquet. As ready as can be when all had to be covered in head-to-toe black robes and bhurka. Her husband arrived with an entourage. They shared the limo but talked of little but the children, the middle east and then the need for her to stay in the background while he led the delegates on a charm mission to win the rights to drilling off shore. He estimated potential 20 million barrels per month! How boring.
He had no idea she was wearing a pink lace bra, pink and black frilly hold-ups, same colour suspenders and sheer pink stockings with a truly slutty seam running all the way down the back. Made personally for her by Chantelle Thomas, Paris.
If he was not interested she had a shiny pink and a long beautiful black dildo in her suitcase allowed through customs by her diplomatic status!
The presidential palace was beautiful, set amongst tropical gardens with a ornate fountain. Their delegation was accompanied to the banqueting hall by diplomats and assistants. They were afforded every courtesy possible by these charming nation of black people. Sahar was growing to like this country more and more.
They were ushered into the presence of the president in hushed tones.
Sahar had seen many black men in Rhahabi sultanate. She had seen many on her trips to the dark continent but the sight of the president made her head spin. He was 58 but in great shape. Lean and taut with a military bearing from a lifetime in the army. His hair a dignified grey and black, the suit fitted him well and he seemed like a man at ease in any company as he shook hands along the line.
He approached Sahar and paused, a little unsure how to greet her in her full veil. Sahar bowed her head slightly as he did the same and made a flourish with his right hand.
She immediately noticed how huge his hands were with long shiny black fingers. She glanced at his feet. Huge feet - size 14 easily. She noticed the bulge in his trousers as he moved along the line! She felt dizzy and flustered and caught the trace of his pour homme and natural odour as he passed. Strong and masculine. It made her want to reach out and touch him. Him to touch her.
Seated two seats away from President Umbongo at the banquet, Sahar felt the full force of his animal magnetism. His voice deep and rich, a slight French accent from his years in the French army. His build and lean musculature made her husband look insignificant. She could barely eat such was her desire and lust. She had heard about the sexual prowess of the Africans. She wanted to experience it for herself. Desperately. She craved it deeply. She felt dizzy, things became a blur and she felt herself fall.
Sahar woke and found herself lying on a huge four poster bed of mahogany enclosed with white lace curtains. She heard people talking and the curtains drawn back. A pretty black girl said, "You fainted your Highness. Are you OK?".
