Elizabeth's Roman Awaening

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.