The General

Introduction

This is a work in progress. It begins with how Jenny met and enjoyed some passionate sex with the General, telling herself that it was just some exotic interlude to entertain her while she was overseas, only to find out it was a lot more! Because of the nature of the story the first half may not interest some readers, while the second half may not appeal to others. Those who prefer to ignore how Jenny played the General can cut straight to the chase can find "The General: Part Two" on the Non-consent/Reluctance story list. Those who want to enjoy the entire thing, read on.

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It was flattering to be asked to be a key note speaker this early in my career as a researcher, but everyone warned me that this remote African country was not safe for a white man to visit, let alone a single white woman. In some ways it was those comments that decided me. You'd think that now I had the title of doctor before my name I'd be less irresponsible but I still had that rebellious and defiant attitude. Still, I did think long and hard before accepting the invitation to present at the plenary session of the conference.

The country was beautiful, but right from the beginning I knew I had to take care. The looks I got from the locals were more than curious. Some of them were openly hostile and the men looked me up and down with obvious interest, both because I was white and an attractive woman. The hotel staff warned me not to go outside the hotel grounds without an escort, and even then preferably in a large group. It was a simple fact that this country was in a state of flux, with law and order low on the list of the new priorities. The hotel was full of uniformed men because the conference organisers had asked the army to act as security.

Even the General of the Defence Force was there. One of my fellow researchers snorted when he told me about it and remarked that "The General" couldn't resist the public relations opportunity to join the international group that was attending. It was still a surprise on that first evening, as I sat at the hotel bar for a pre-dinner drink, when Alex, the conference administrator, brought "The General" over and introduced him. "Jenny, this is General Jxxxx. He demanded that I introduce you as soon as he saw you walk in. You have obviously won a heart. Be careful." His voice was light hearted, but the last part held a hint of concern. I stood and turned from the small group of fellow researchers I was talking with to see just who I had managed to attract and who the all important "The General" really was.

It was still novel for me to be a land where almost everyone was black and I found myself checking him out before meeting his eyes. The General was in his late forties, hard bodied and not handsome, but certainly compelling. A typical soldier, I thought a little cynically. At almost six feet he was big compared to my small five foot three frame and solid without being fat. The civilian clothes he was wearing did nothing to hide the muscles in his thighs or his broad shoulders. When my eyes finally returned to his face it was to meet eyes so dark they were definitely black. In fact they were a little angry by the time I met his look. He was obviously not used to having anyone look him up and down so curiously, but then, probably everyone in this country knew him. For a brief moment I felt sorry for any private who upset this soldier if my momentary lapse of manners had roused that flash of anger.

"Hiya, I'm Jenny." I stuck my hand out for him to shake. His posture relaxed slightly and a glint of amusement buried the heat in those black eyes.

"Doctor," was the formal reply. "I would be honoured if you would join my friends and I for dinner. It will give us a chance to get to know each other."

I was amused – his manners were very direct and just what I was in the mood for: a man to flatter me and some company for dinner other than the usual folk and the usual talk about research and funding bodies. It would even be a chance to get a feel for the way the country was going, straight from the horse's mouth, as it were.

"Sure, I'd love to."

Silly, silly me, but that was how it began.

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The General stayed close to me while we ate. I could feel his body heat as we sat at the table with local politicians and upper echelon officers. If I turned my head I could see he was looking at me the same way I often studied a problem in my research. It was obvious he wanted more than to just look. Despite heading towards my mid-thirties I knew I was attractive -- not beautiful, but memorable. Green eyes, red hair, perhaps lacking a little in the curve department, but fit and lithe. It was a combination that actually made me more desirable now I was mature and not a gangling, shy teenager. Plus, I also knew I was successful in my own sphere – a career woman with a big future, so confident of myself. However, it was still arousing to know that this man, also important and influential in his own country, was so obviously interested in me.

It also became obvious that the General was skilled in his strategy. As the night progressed my wine glass was never empty. This was caution enough and I left the glass full and switched to water – it would not do to get drunk. In some ways, I was already. The exotic surroundings and the powerful men around the table were exciting. The General was getting under my skin, stirring my senses. His hand rested gently on my arm as we chatted and I was acutely aware of when he moved it to sip from his own glass. I found myself missing its heat and leaning closer and closer towards him.

He was good company, but it crossed my mind, as I turned to laugh at something he said, that I was carefully being shown off in the same way I would show a prize horse at home. He was making sure I was involved in the conversation, almost encouraging me to reveal how high I was in the hierarchy of my research company and how much my work was valued. His hand caressed the length of my back, encouraging me to lean back into it emphasising my curves to the watching men. I realised I liked it. It was a heady feeling to be a lone woman among these men and have them look at me with that certain hunger that hinted at lust as well as respect.

The meal drew to an end and I stood to leave. The General rose with me. I smiled and told him to stay with his friends to talk. He smiled back at me, amused at my obvious attempt to leave alone. Drawing me gently toward him he brushed my cheek with a chaste kiss and turned to sit down. I was surprised at the ease with which he'd given up and the feeling that I was suddenly shut out of the group around the table. I nodded farewell at the other men around the table and walked slowly back to my room. It seemed I could still feel the heat of his body against mine and the brush of his lips against my cheek. I sighed, feeling cheated at the loss of the company and fumbled the key in the lock to open the door. On the floor was a small white folded paper.

Closing the door I bent and picked up the white square and opened it. The black writing was as strong and direct as the man that wrote it: "I'll be over at 2200, open the door and don't keep The General outside or I'll call for reinforcements." Cheeky devil, I thought as the laughter bubbled inside. He had realised I'd play the coquette and cut me off at the pass. He had even used the name the delegates had dubbed him with as though it was a compliment.

I sat before the mirror and asked myself if I would do it, if I'd really open the door to a man I hardly knew, let alone to a man from a culture vastly different to mine and with a reputation for being ruthless. Would he really order his soldiers up to get the door open for him if I pretended to be asleep? The serious face reflected back at me from the mirror couldn't, or wouldn't, answer any of those questions.

In the end the door did open. My poor General was anticipating a slower seduction, with him taking the lead, but instead found me already naked and lustful. I'd spent too long in front of the mirror wondering what it would be like to feel his black cock slide into me. He was stripped naked in no time and offered my willing mouth to kiss. My readiness was an obvious surprise, and he was stunned to be pushed to the bed and straddled by a white witch who leaned against him and whispered in his ear, "Don't take it personally, General, it's just a fuck." My hands fumbled at the buttons, then the belt. His protests that it was more than just a fuck just made me laugh and whisper more insistently, "No, Sir, it's just fucking. Don't worry about it. I want it. I've been thinking about it since I got your note."

I guided his head to my breast and demanded he suck it as I settled his already rock hard cock between my legs. He abandoned the pretence of protesting that this was more than just naked desire for both of us and gave me what I needed – telling me he wanted to have all of my holes, that he wanted to fuck me in the mouth, in the arse and drink me all night long. Aaah, he showed admirable control and stopped himself from losing it when I finally slid down him to suck his cock and lick his balls. He even controlled himself when he finally found the tight little asshole after working his cock in and out of my wet cunt so many times I was sweating and biting his arm to stop the cries. Only when I'd whimpered into the pillow "Yes, yes, yes," and turned my head to cry "Come inside me, deep inside, please," did he let go with a hard cry as his hands pulled me against him.

His mouth sought mine as I rolled over and pulled the sheet up and nestled into the pillow. "Make some room," he muttered as he tried to push me over on the double bed.

"No," I pouted. "You can't spend the night here, it wouldn't be proper." He looked at me for a long time before getting up, dressing slowly and going to leave. "Kiss me before you go," I demanded and enjoyed the feel of his mouth, his tongue dancing on mine until I gently pushed him away saying that we both must get some sleep.

In the morning The General joined me for breakfast and asked how I could look at him so innocently and distantly, adding that he felt like he had run a marathon and was so sore. I just smiled and asked him if he'd missed his watch. He cursed softly in his own language as he realised it was no longer on his wrist. I laughingly slid it across the table saying I had contemplated keeping it as a trophy, but that I was sure his men would notice its absence, especially given the insignia engraved on it. All that day I knew he watched me as I treaded between conference sessions and chatted to colleagues during the breaks. Yet I deliberately ignored him, making sure I was always in company so that he had no chance to talk to me alone. That night I slept like a baby and ignored the instant buzz of the telephone by my bed, smiling to myself and letting my hand seek the warmth between my legs as it rang again and again.

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On the last day the General found me between sessions at the conference and asked when I was flying out. I knew he'd already checked with the concierge and found out that the room had been booked by my agent until Sunday morning. With an expression of sweet innocence I said I was flying out on Friday morning – there was too much work to do at home and the conference was wrapping up, so I'd changed everything; I just hadn't had time to let the hotel know I'd be leaving early. (ED: This sentence read awkwardly so I rearranged it. I did not change any of the actual text.) His eyes went cold so quickly I was almost convinced I was imagining it, but almost immediately he was smiling slightly again and asking if he'd see me before I left.

My mind recalled the way his mouth felt against my clitoris and the passion he could rouse. I wasn't strong enough, or cruel enough, to deny myself, let alone him. Sliding past him to the next talkfest I looked sideways and said, "See you at 2200 tonight. My door will be open. No need to call the army to help." The rest of the day I made sure we did not cross paths too closely, but noticed him looking at me every now and then – contemplating his strategy or contemplating my capriciousness.

I was working on my computer when he arrived. The brilliant green, white and silver of my soft cotton wrap highlighted my white skin, the green in my eyes and my slender body. I stood to greet him as he came in. If I had been more honest with myself I would have admitted I'd risen to my feet to flaunt the way the wrap clung to my small breasts as I leaned back slightly to greet him. "Evening, General," I tossed at him light-heartedly. The General rested one hand on my shoulder as he looked down and whistled quietly. He was waiting to see how I would react – was I the cold English doctor I'd been over the last few days or the wanton I'd been on the night I'd opened the door?

"That wrap suits you," he said. "Please don't call me General, I'm just Jxxxx." I tilted my head back and drew his head down, offering my mouth to kiss. He did so willingly, getting more demanding as I melted against his body, my hands wrapping around his hard, muscled body. Confidently he led me to the bed and laid me down, pushing the wrap apart to reveal small breasts and pale skin all the way down to the curled red bush. I watched his face as he drank in the contrasts – green cloth, white skin, red hair and his black hand cupping one soft breast.

Noticing me watching he returned to kissing, his tongue tasting the inside of my mouth in the same way he would later taste the juices from my cunt. I sighed in pleasure, anticipating that very feeling, and let him undo the knot that held the wrap in place, enjoying the way he gently pushed the last of the cloth away from my body to reveal me naked and willing, his hand tracing the soft curves. Rapidly he stripped himself naked, his muscled black body gleaming in the lamplight, while I studied the his every move. He worked his way down my body, kissing and licking as he went until I could feel his hot mouth between my legs. "General," I gasped.

He paused long enough to mutter, "I don't call you doctor, don't call me General."

I laughed and called him General a little more breathlessly as his tongue went to work. It was wonderful to lie there and let him bring me to my first orgasm. For a brief moment I wondered if I'd let him continue until I was exhausted with passion again but there was a large mirror over the dresser and decided I wanted to see his black body pound me doggie style. He was surprised when I wriggled away from him and stood up.

Impatiently I said, "Come here." I grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the bed. He was puzzled until I bent over facing the mirror and parted the curves of my buttocks to reveal the glistening wet opening of my pussy, the folds opening like the petals of a flower to reveal the nectar within.

"You sweet bitch, you are hot," I heard him whisper to himself as he grabbed my hips and plunged within. He was watching in the mirror as well. I laughed up at him as his cock slipped into my eager body and then braced to feel the long deep stroking. Yes – this was what I wanted; his rock hard cock penetrating the slippery wetness of my cunt. I reached back to feel his balls as the slammed against me with each stroke. "No – look at yourself in the mirror," I heard him say. I ignored him and leaned down to place my hands on the floor between my legs, bracing and positioned for maximum thrust.

I needed his hands on my waist to keep me balanced as he drove in hard and deep, rocking me against the shaft. I closed my eyes and grunted as he hit home before briefly wondering if he'd lose it all too soon. The General must have wondered the same thing because he stopped deep inside me and repeated the command to watch in the mirror. I groaned and tried to restore the pounding rhythm. He shuffled back, pulling me with him until I had to grab the dresser or lose my balance. It was enough for him to grab my hair and pull me up to watch him in the mirror.

For a little while I let him, watching with pleasure as his dark body built up a sweat behind me and my breasts swung with each thrust. Then a quick twist and a sharp bite on the hand made him stop. I had surprised him again, just long enough for me to pull away and drop to my knees to lick my fluids from his heavy black balls, feeling the soft movement of the skin and the hard testes within. There was no doubt he was enjoying this and gave a long groan of pleasure.

I felt his hands move gently on my hair as my lips shaped themselves over the swollen head of his cock and my mouth sucked the shaft into my mouth. For a long while all that could be heard was his gasped breath and the wet slurping sounds. The General was still in control enough to pull away before it was too late. He dragged me to the bed, manhandling me into position and spreading my legs for a long slow look before his mouth closed over the clitoris and he began sucking the hard nub into his mouth. I was at a fever pitch and lost myself in an orgasm almost straight away. "Go on sweeting, scream," I heard him say.

It was enough to bring me back to myself. "General, be discreet – the walls are like paper." I smiled softly at his obvious annoyance at my lack of compliance.

He lifted and dragged me to the edge, and positioned himself between my legs, looking down to growl, "Don't call me General, say my name."

I taunted him as he slid his cock into my cunt. "General, General, General." The word became softer, slower and more desperate as he began the slow stroking, his thumb caressing my clitoris with each stroke and his face watching mine as I lifted my hips to seek the rising orgasm. Finally I couldn't say it; I couldn't even say his name, only pant as the orgasms rocked me.

As the spasms subsided he leaned in, his body covering mine and he whispered into my ear, "Say my name."

"No," I hissed back, and languidly lifted my hips again to soften the denial.

It was enough to rouse him into saying, "Oh, sweeting, you shouldn't have refused." I remember thinking what an odd thing it was to say. The thought was forgotten as he began to stroke deep and hard, his hand capturing one breast as he worked ever more deeper, his body rubbing against my clitoris, withdrawing enough to make me groan, wanting him hard against me again. The next orgasm began to build and I found myself turning my head to bite against his wrist to silence the scream as my body lifted to meet his thrusts. "Yes, yes," I heard him exalt. "Come all over me." I hardly needed the coaxing and exploded. My bite must have been painful but he didn't pull away. As my body stopped bucking he rolled me gently on top of him, his hands kneading each breast, the thumbs circling the nipples until they were aching with pleasure. "Fuck me, sweeting, come on, come all over me".

Such a command was not one I felt inclined to defy and I complied with abandon, riding his hard cock slowly, sweetly or hard and fast as the orgasms took me, all the while with his hands caressing my breasts. I had to smile at the seriousness of his face as he watched me arch achingly against him and orgasm just one more time. He pulled me closer, whispering into my ear, "Say my name, say you like my black cock."

Taunting him again as my hips rocked on his cock, I said, "General, it's just a fuck, do you hear me, it's just a fuck."

He growled denial at me but didn't move and I lifted off him to go down along his stomach and take his black cock in my mouth. I heard him say again, "Tell me you like my black cock." I just shook my head slightly as my mouth stretched over the dark column and engulfed it. I was impressed that he had not come yet. Any other lover I had usually lost it once I started to come in shivering, gasping, rolling orgasms.