The Man Who Wasnt Me

Copyright: lagneaublanc

Many thanks to JonB1969 for the editing and corrections and to Angela from Douala for the inspiration.

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"Hi, are you lonely?"

"No, I'm just thinking."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Just work."

"Do you want some company?" She seated herself very close to me, her arm almost brushing mine.

I sighed and shifted my look from gazing at the Atlantic to check her out. She was very pretty, a lighter dark skin, more Ethiopian than Cameroonian, big eyes made bigger by the exaggerated make-up. Her painted lips smiled coyly and invitingly. I sipped my beer and leaned back on the plastic chair, thinking how I could make her go away. It was almost dark already; the fishermen's small boats were paddling to their night rest in the small harbour.

Trying to revive the conversation, she asked, "What's your name?"

I looked at her again. She was vulgar, though sexy as they can be. Her dress resembled mostly an extra large T-shirt, covering only one of her shoulders, hugging her breasts and waist and ending on the top of her tights. Her bra (or was it a swimsuit?) strap was peeking on her bared shoulder. Small face, pretty nose. She was a hot little thing, supported by some extra centimetres of her improbable stilettos.

I lied, "I'm Henry."

"Nice to meet you, Henry. I'm Fleur."

We shook hands; it seemed inevitable. She flashed her shining teeth at me and arched her back, pushing her breasts forward.

"Where are you from, Henry?" Her English was very good, but with a slight French tang, like most south Cameroon.

"I'm from London," I lied again. "And you?"

"I'm from Douala."

"And what are you doing here in Kribi?"

"I came to have fun with some friends." She never lost her smile.

I drank some more local beer and shifted my gaze back to the sea.

Fleur was silent for a minute, clearly not happy with where this was not going. But she grew bolder and, leaning forward, letting her hair brush my cheek, whispered in my ear:

"Do you want to go spend some time together?"

Relieved to see that I destabilized her with my role reversal, I turned and found her face a few centimetres from my own. But I resisted the temptation to kiss her, and only smirked.

I asked with fake innocence, "What do you suggest?"

She smiled and leaned back, like a successful fisherman, letting my gaze naturally slide from her face to her provocative bare shoulder.

"We can go and dance, or maybe go to your hotel..." She let the suggestion linger.

The fatigue and deception came over me. I wanted to be alone and reflect on my loneliness. Looking the other way, I smiled sadly and said, "It's very tempting, but I don't think so."

Fleur was clearly disappointed. She moved uneasily in the chair, trying to show some more flesh, but I didn't react.

"You don't like me?"

I looked back at her and smiled sadly. "No, you are very pretty. But I just don't want to be that person."

She looked puzzled. "What person?"

I shrugged. "Oh, you know, the white expatriate with the amazingly sexy young African girl."

"What do you mean?" She sounded annoyed.

"You know the type I mean. These people who work for big companies, or the UN, making a lot of money here. And they always have pretty young girls like you hanging around them. I just don't like it."

She sneered as if to mock my innocence, and unfamiliarity with the basic facts of life. Then we both drank in silence, trying to reel back from a too honest moment. Fleur then caressed my forearm with her long painted nails. I moved my arm away.

"You are very sensitive."

"I'm sorry. I think I'd rather be alone."

She removed her hand, but didn't get up.

She whispered, "Tell me more about these men, what are they like?"

"I'm sure you know what I mean. They are like in their fifties or more probably have a wife or ex-wife somewhere. But they come to Africa for work, and end up in a place like this, checking out the girls like..." I couldn't finish the sentence. All the possibilities seemed too offensive.

"And what would they do to me?"

"Oh, I am sure they would love you. You are very sexy."

"Thank you. Would they buy me a drink?"

"For sure." I smiled, refusing to rise to the challenge. "And then they would suggest you come with them to their hotel."

"Which hotel are they in?" It was clearly a loaded question, different hotels probably standing for different cliental.

"I don't know. What's the most expensive hotel here?"

She thought for a moment, and then said, "The Palm Beach Resort."

"Is it nice?"

"Very."

"So they will take you there. That's where they're staying. The company's paying anyway. Money isn't the issue."

"Are you in that hotel?"

"No."

Silence again. I was actually enjoying this, though I didn't quite see what she was getting from it. Surely she understood by now I wasn't game.

"So this man would ask me to come to his room?"

"Yes." I wetted my lips. My mouth felt strangely dry. "Actually, he will probably invite you and another girl, to have a party."

"Who?"

"I dunno, what about that one, standing over there?"

I gestured with my chin to a girl walking by the pier to be looked at by the group of French expatriates drinking Pastis. She was shorter than Fleur, and of darker complexion, her body was curvier and rounder as well, with a proper African ass. Like Fleur, she exuded sex.

"Monique?"

"Whatever. He would invite you both with him to the room."

This idea needed to sink in, and we both had to drink, before she launched me again.

"So we go the room?"

I swallowed my spit and continued, "In the room, he will give you a drink on the balcony, and watch how you move your asses a bit. Then he will tell you both to go and shower. And he will finish his whiskey."

I was picturing the image in my mind. The balcony, overlooking the beach, the girls, leaning on the rail, their asses hugged by the stretchable fabric of their cheap clothes, the wind softly blowing their hair extensions.

"Why shower?"

"I guess he wants you clean. And then both you and Monique will come out wrapped in big towels."

My mind flashed for a minute to this scene, the two pretty nubile black girls, standing wrapped in white towels, as the older white man, probably with a ponytail, leers over them.

"Then he will tell you to remove the towels, and he will look at your bodies."

I drank some beer quickly to water my mouth, Fleur's hand brushed my thigh, but I didn't react.

"So what will he be doing, after we take off the towels?" She kept caressing my thigh. "Just looking?"

"First he only looks, but then he starts touching you, at different places, feeling how young and firm you are."

The dark room, and the man's pale wrinkled hand caressing the smooth dark skim was alive in my mind. I saw him, with his rimmed glasses and grey ponytail, squeezing their hard round breasts and butts, pinching half-erect nipples. The girls, smiling absently, participating in a ritual they have gone through many times before; their hard black bodies wielding to the caressing hand. My hand twitched.

"Then," I continued, "he starts licking your nipple and squeezing your ass. With his other hand he is squeezing Monique's ass, and then he licks her nipples too."

"Doesn't he get naked also?"

"Not yet, first he tells you both to get on the bed."

"Does he get in the bed with us?"

"No. He sits on the chair and looks at you both. Then he tells you to start touching and licking each other." I gulped. "Have you ever done that?"

"No." She whispered in my ear as her hand moved to caress my inner thigh.

"He tells you to squeeze and suck on the other's breasts. You can feel your nipples getting harder as Monique starts kissing them."

Now it was Fleur's turn to gulp, and her hand briefly went to caress her bosom.

"She has bigger breasts than you, but not so firm. You grab them in your hands and squeeze hard, and she moans. Then, the man tells Monique to lick your pussy."

She gasped. I snuck a rapid glance, her erect nipples clearly visible through the big shirt.

"She's never done that before, so he has to explain to her exactly what to do. He tells her to lie down and put her head underneath your pussy. Then he tells her to rub her tongue from the top to the bottom of your pussy, and put it inside you. Her tongue is wet and big and you can feel her going all over your crack."

"Is the man taking his dick out and playing with it?" Her hand started massaging my crouch through my jeans.

"No, he is only watching you two. But he tells you also to lie on top of her, with your mouth to her pussy, so you can also lick her."

"Ah-ha." She consented, participating in the fantasy while her hand continued to rub my crouch.

"While you are sucking each other, he slowly undresses." I said that as she started to unzip me. "He neatly folds his clothes over the chair and stands in his underwear. Then he tells you both to stop and come towards him. So you both sit up on the bed facing him."

"Does he take out his dick now?" She asked me as she unzipped me, sliding her hand under my underwear and touching my hard cock.

I gulped as her long fingers closed on my prick. We were sitting in obscurity in an isolated part of the bar. The world, with its convictions, was far away.

"Yes, now he takes out his cock, which is long and hard, but not very thick. And he first tells you to lick it and put your lips around it, and then he tells Monique to suck it."

"White men love having their cocks sucked." She chuckled as she started pulling my prick out.

"Don't African men?"

"Not really, they just want to fuck." She managed to get my cock out. It was hard and erect. I resisted the temptation to look down; the sight of her ebony fingers, with her gilded nails, on my white cock, might have made me ejaculate immediately.

"The man grabs your head and make you swallow his cock until you almost can't breath, then he lets you go. After you can breath again, he pushes you again on it; you can feel his cock almost hitting the back of your throat. Next, he tells Monique to lie on the bed, and spread her legs. So he climbs on the bed and starts rubbing his wet cock on her pussy. He rubs her a lot, then he starts pushing the head of his cock into her."

"Doesn't he put on a rubber?"

I smiled as she exposed the fault in my fantasy. "You're right, first he puts on a condom, and then he starts pushing his cock inside Monique."

"He fucks her hard?" Her hand started caressing my hard cock.

"No, he is actually fucking her very gently. He knows a lot about women, so he starts slowly by getting in and out of her. He also holds her tits and squeezes them when he's pushing into her. You are looking at them, and she moans every time his cock is in her."

"Doesn't he want to fuck me, too?" Her voice carried a hint of an insult.

"No." I was trying to concentrate as her hand softly squeezed my penis. "First he fucks her for a few moments, until he can go easily inside her." I gulped. "Then, he gets off her and lies on his back, and he tells you to climb on top of him."

"Yes?" She squeezed my cock harder. "And what happens after?"

"You go on top of him, and slowly lower yourself on his cock. It is all wet and shining from fucking Monique, so it goes easily inside you. You let it go all the way inside your pussy and fill you real good. The man then tells Monique to hug you from behind and rub your nice tits when he is bouncing you on his cock."

"Tell me more." Her hand jerked me slowly.

There is nobody in our immediate vicinity. I noticed the group have been joined by some pretty girls in scant clothes, and the waiter rushing to them with a tray of drinks.

"He puts his hands on your hips and thrust you upwards, and then lets you drop on his cock. Every time he does this you feel his prick deeper inside you, making you hot and moan. Monique is licking your neck and squeezes your tits hard. Her fingers pinch your nipples, twisting them. Then, getting excited, he turns you around and makes you lie on the bed. He grabs your ankles and push then backwards, so your pussy is wide open. Now he starts fucking you really hard, sinking his cock all the way in you, hard and fast. You can feel his sack of balls slapping your ass as he fucks you."

"I like it. Fuck me hard."

"The man fucks you hard, all the way in. He grunts and tell Monique to hold his balls as he continues to fuck you."

I had to stop and drink some more beer. I avoided looking at Fleur or at her hand going up and down my prick. Fleur drank as well, without stopping the movement.

"Then, he gets out of you and starts fucking Monique again. He tells her to get on her knees as he is behind her, he grabs her big ass and sticks his cock in her pussy hard and deep, you can see it disappears completely in her. She moans."

"And what do I do?"

"He tells you to lie in front of her and spread your legs. Then he grabs Monique by the hair and pushes her face to your pussy, telling her to lick you while he is fucking her. It feels great; every time his cock goes into her you can feel her tongue on your pussy. You grab her hair and pull her deeper, getting her to stick her tongue in your wet black cunt."

This was a very hot image, and I had to breath hard as my cock tightened. Fleur increased the rhythm of her strokes, feeling I was excited by the thought.

"He fucks her like this for a long time, very hard. But then he stops and tells the both of you to get on your knees, side by side. He starts caressing your hard round asses, and then he slaps you, not hard but enough to make you jump, and he does the same to her. Then he puts each hand in your pussies and starts tickling you both. He even puts his thumbs in your assholes."

"He is a dirty old man", she whispered as I felt the warmth of her breath on my ear. Her hand was busy at the base of my cock, stroking me with long, slow strokes, making the orgasm build there.

"The he starts to fuck you both, in turns. He holds your bum, squeezing each cheek with a hand, and thrusts his hard cock inside you from behind. You gasp as you feel his long white cock in you. Then he pulls out, slowly, and pushes it back in again hard. He slaps your ass and fucks you for a bit; after that he moves over and starts fucking Monique. He grabs her shoulder and pulls her into his cock, she gasps as he starts fucking her fast. He fucks her hard, slapping her ass, before he switch back to you. This time he is fucking you fast. He is grabbing you hair and pulling you backwards as his thin cock slams you. His rhythm is faster and faster, and you know he is going to finish soon. So he is fucking you as hard as he can."

"Yes..." she moaned, "I like it hard." Her hand jerked me fast again and I could feel my own orgasm getting near.

"Then he stops."

Surprised by this halt, Fleur's hand stopped as well.

"He moves over to Monique and sticks his cock in her brown ass again. He fucks her hard and pushes her down to the mattress." Her hand started stroking me again, "you can hear her moaning and whimpering as..." I inhaled as cum was rushing in my cock, "...as he slams hard into her."

I clenched the arms of the plastic chair and tried to concentrate as Fleur wanked me hard and fast.

"Then, ahh..." I whimpered, "he slows down, and he tells both of you to lie in front of him, oh fuck..." I mumbled as I started to ejaculate.

"Then what?" insisted Fleur, her proficient hand milking my cock.

"Then..." I tried to stay focused as I was cumming in her hand. "...then, he pulls off his condom and jerks all over your nice brown tits; ohh fuck." My cum was spurting on the concrete floor. "Then he cums on your pretty bodies, letting it all over your skin, until he wipes his cock on your bellies."

My head felt light and dizzy. I tried to focus on a distant light, but all was vague, even the hand squeezing the final drops out of my cock felt far away. I leaned back and concentrated.

It took me some seconds to continue. "After he finish," I said, "he gets up, wraps a towel around his waist and goes outside to have a cigarette, and he tells you and Monique to clean up, and then you will go dancing."

I exhaled as my story ended.

Both of us were silent. Slowly, I became aware again of the sound of the ocean, the noises from the pier, the faraway offshore platforms' lights. Fleur wiped her hand and drank the rest of her beer.

"So, do you want to go to your hotel?"

I looked at her, puzzled. Did she not understand anything?

"No. I'm sorry, I am not that man."

She stood up and looked at me.

"Not yet." She walked away, towards the celebrating group down the pier.