Author's note: A continuation of the 4 part series: My Wife Expands Her Love Life. PLUS
Erica Travels to Africa
&
Erica meets the African Executives
*
The President was getting ready for the schoolgirls and their mothers to arrive when Mark and Julie came early. Their stunning daughter, Rachel, was with them. Rachel was dressed for this event as all the young girls had to, in their school uniform from the U.K. all girls school, namely white blouse and tie, short kilt, and white knee socks, along with flat shoes.
In all likelihood this would be the last time they would wear the schoolgirl outfits as they had all graduated from school, had celebrated their eighteenth birthdays, and probably were headed to university. However, against strict school rules, Rachel had worn eye makeup, lipstick, and underneath her blouse was her erotic black bustier, supporting her breasts which were now as big as her mother's. She was angry that her lover from the night before, Collin, had been sent back to New York, and she was sure she knew the reason - Erica must have been behind it.
The theme of the night was for the girls to thank the mine's executives for supporting their education in England financially. The official thank you took place in the dining room after dinner, but often additional thank yous were delivered later on, privately by the white girls to the black men in one of the bedrooms upstairs in the sprawling mansion, or in the nearby guest house. The invited girls were all the white daughters of the mine's supervisors, their hosts were all black executives. There was a sexual tension in the air that was special to this annual event. The President, of course, had first choice of the girls he wanted to sit with, the other executives scrambled during the cocktail hour to impress one of the other lovely teenagers, and have her join him at dinner. Second choice would be the wives who had not yet taken a black lover, so there was a nervousness among that group, either to be selected, or to avoid being selected, depending on their point of view. None of the white husbands, the fathers of the lovely girls, were invited, and none questioned the reason.
It was a matter of control, at which the President was a master.
The President was well aware that Rachel had slept with Collin the night before, and he knew precious little sleeping was done. Collin had been sent back to his office in New York as a result, as a favour to the American Insurance woman, Erica. Thus he had moved Rachel into the seat beside him. Omar had months ago beaten him to the punch by seducing Julie, the President would return the favour by bedding Julie's gorgeous daughter.
When the maid opened the door, the President rose to greet them.
He looked at Julie closely, how had he not met this stunning woman before? She had a gorgeous smile a truly memorable body, long black hair, and the daughter was a carbon copy of her. Her husband, Mark, felt his face flush as his boss devoured his wife and daughter with his eyes.
The President told Mark to make a few changes to the table settings, as Collin would not be in attendance. He told Mark to move Sarah between two new young men who had just joined their executive ranks and to seat Rachel at his left, in what had been Sarah's place. Mark's heart pounded, and he felt his face flush even more as his daughter would now be a target for his black boss, along with her roommate from school, Janice, who would be seated across from Rachel and on the President's right.
Julie was happy to sit anywhere. Her fabulous lover, Omar, was away, but she would not be targeted by any of the younger men because Omar was the CEO, and neither she nor any of the black men would risk offending Omar. Julie thought she would sit with her own husband, Mark, who was appearing more and more agitated thinking about his daughter and the President. She might have to intervene if he started to make a mistake.
Nothing could ruin Julie's careful plan to stay in Botswana, she was intent on that.
Mark was the only white husband permitted to attend, as he organised the event, and if anything went wrong it would be his fault, if everything was perfect, the President accepted all of the congratulations. Mark was sweating profusely, but at least he was with his wife, who would normally be with her lover Omar. He would not have to face that indignity.
Mark had placed the podium beside the President's chair. The girls who would be expected to, but not forced, to speak would stand right beside him. The others seated at the large dining room table would not be able to see below the girl's breasts, as the solid podium with its large replica of the mine's logo, would obscure their vision. No one would be able to see if the President's hand wandered onto the teenage speakers' bare legs. The president congratulated himself as this bit of brilliance had occurred to him several years earlier.
His new private secretary, Stacey, who had attended the dinner the year before, was to be seated a half dozen seats from him. She would be keeping notes for the files of the families with her newly learned shorthand. She would transcribe it later.
She would also be ready to spend the night with the President should he need her to.
The President's black wife would be visiting her mother for a few days, until the maids cleaned the house properly after the party.
Waiters circulated the big room with trays of red and white wine. The girls would be encouraged to drink, but not get drunk. Their mothers could drink all they liked.
The level of conversation in the room increased. The black executives, almost to a man, flirted with the young daughters, tried to separate them from their mothers, and if possible let their hands wander on the backs or arms of the young beauties, looking for encouragement to invite them to be seatmates. The President noted one young black man had already been out on the terrace with two different teenage girls, both of whom were adjusting their blouses when they returned.
It was time for dinner.
