Tia: This Is Africa

Miranda Harkens closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, the second glass of wine was taking effect, her eyes closing as she drank in the sounds of the night around her. Angela was a long way from home, the scratching and chattering of unseen insects in the undergrowth was not one she was used to hearing in South Wandsworth. She stretched languidly, enjoying the deep cushioning of the garden chair as it cosseted her, here she was sipping wine that had been served to her by a servant on her own Jacaranda covered veranda! Her friends back in England would be green with envy.

England seemed so far away now and yet the Harkens family had only arrived in Harare a week ago, since then things had been a bit of a whirl as Robert busied himself with his new job and Angela settled into the house that came as a perk with Robert's new position. She had known it had been the right move the moment a limousine arrived to take them form the airport to the gated development that would be there new home in Zimbabwe.

"Can I get you some more wine Mrs Harkens?"

Miranda almost jumped, but managed to retain her composure, Joseph, the house domestic managed to move soundlessly around the house a fact that Miranda had not quiet got used to yet. The thought of having someone at her beck and call hadn't fully sunk in yet either, the fact that the house servant was a very muscular black man in his late forties would also take Miranda a while to get used too. She understood that the domestics usually were men for security reasons, but Miranda was decidedly uncomfortable at the thought of a man, no matter what colour, washing her clothes for her, still with Richard out tonight with his new boss she was glad to have a man around the house.

"No......no Joseph, thank you but I wont have anymore its gone straight to my head."

He nodded and soundlessly turned back into the house, Miranda shook her head, definitely not Wandsworth!

Thirty miles away in the back of a taxi bound for downtown Harare Robert Harkens smiled to himself, like his wife he was feeling a little bit smug at his families good fortune. Things had been tight in the UK, Roberts oil consultancy business had been struggling recently as work in the North Sea dried up. He had a family to support, a daughter at boarding school, a wife who wanted holidays and nights out and a huge mortgage on a three bed terrace in South West London that was best described as bijou! Now the terraced house was rented and replaced with a huge villa set in its own grounds within a secure compound, with a man servant to boot! He had a juicy ex-pat package that covered his daughters schooling and allowed more than enough money to live like a king, on top of all that it was warm and sunny most days....bliss.

His boss, Thomas Ives, another ex-pat of twenty years standing, was taking the new boy out to a club. Tom, as he insisted on being called, had been a bit sketchy on the details but had assured Robert that it would give him a taste of life. Robert had decided he like Tom a lot, he seemed down to earth and up for a laugh as long as the work got done. He had made it clear that the people who owned Robert's new company wanted all new employees and their families to accept life in Zimbabwe and enjoy it. Robert had been pleasantly surprised with the amount of attention that his wife and daughter had received throughout the moving process and although Gillian Harkens was still at school in the UK she would be joining them for the holidays to acclimatise herself for her eventual permanent move to the new country.

"Here you go old man, bit of Dutch courage."

Tom handed over a hip flask as the car ground to a halt at yet another set of traffic lights. Robert took a swig of the fiery liquid, feeling it worm its way into his stomach. As he did so a movement outside the car caught his eye, a man and women were passionately kissing just a little way back from the roadside. As Robert watched the man's hand crept under the woman's black dress, lifting it and allowing Robert a clear view of the tops of her stockings and her bottom the cheeks of which were bisected by a black thong, the woman was seemingly oblivious to her exposure. Before he had a chance to see any more the taxi was speeding off into the night leaving Robert with a very clear image of a beautiful white bottom being groped by a large black hand, his cock twitched involuntarily at the thought of it.

Miranda must have nodded off, the sound of a car door slamming woke her with a start, she quickly relaxed when she realised it was James Peterson returning from work. The Peterson's, James and Amanda, lived in the villa next door, Miranda had already decided that Amanda was going to make a great best friend and she felt sure the two families would become firm friends given time. Miranda could make out the sounds of a front door opening and closing and relaxed back into her chair closing her eyes once again letting the warm evening envelop her.

She must have been asleep for ten minutes before another noise woke her, this time it sounded more human. Was her mind playing tricks or could she hear someone groaning? There it was again, definitely human and what's more it sounded decidedly sexual in nature. Miranda flushed, her heart skipping slightly as she slowly came to the realisation that she could hear James and Amanda making love. God the wickedness of it, Miranda made to get up, her middle class sensibilities forbidding her from eavesdropping, but her drowsiness, and the wine overcame her and she slumped back into her chair. All the while she could clearly hear Amanda groaning, louder and more frequently now and in a most un-lady like manner.

Miranda could feel her body responding to the sounds carried through the clear night, her nipples tightening against her bra and a distinct warmth between her legs. She resisted the urge to stroke herself, torn between her own rising excitement and the need to act in a proper manner.

Her bodies needs won out in the end, it had been so long since she and Robert had made love and since getting to Zimbabwe the heat had been getting to her, making her more aware of her body than she was usually. Her fingers gently caressed a full breast while the other hand moved between her legs easing the material of her skirt higher allowing her to tickle her thighs which seemed to shine brightly in the moonlight, her white skin flushing with her mounting arousal.

"Oh God fuck me with your huge cock!"

Miranda froze her ministrations at the outburst, her ears barely able to believe what she was hearing, Amanda had seemed so reserved when she had spoken to her earlier in the week, to hear a good English church goer screaming out such filth in the middle of the night shocked Miranda more than she expected. She quickly remembered that she wasn't in England any more with its tea parties and scone making, this was Africa and things were slightly different. Miranda wondered if the African night would have the same effect on her and Robert after they had settled in, it certainly seemed to be agreeing with the Peterson's! She would look at James Peterson in a new light after tonight that was for sure.

Miranda wasn't the only one getting turned on listening to Amanda Peterson getting rigorously fucked, from behind the screen door Joseph stroked his rapidly lengthening cock and smiled to himself. He could see Mrs Harkens toying with her full breasts over the top of her summer dress which concealed her full curvy figure. Joseph drank her in admiring the long shapely legs and skin so white it almost shone in the moonlight, a body just aching to be liberated from the repressed mind that controlled it. She was just as he had been promised when he was offered the job of training the new family by the partners of the oil company that Richard Harkens had been headhunted for. He didn't want to think about the daughter just yet, she was safely ensconced in her English finishing school and not coming to Zimbabwe for a couple of months, by that time her parents would be fully broken in and he could concentrate on the vision of eighteen year old loveliness without any added distractions, she was a bonus that he was only to happy to wait for.

Joseph was regarded as a safe pair of hands by his employers, when it came to westerners he knew when to push and when to lay off, he stalked his prey like an expert hunter and when the time was right he pounced. Tonight was not the night for him to make his move, no matter how much he wanted to fuck the English rose before him. He would have to satisfy himself with fucking the Peterson women, she had stamina that one, more than enough to cope with the eighteen year old gardener who was currently giving her the once over. He had wanted to see how Mrs Harkens would react to the situation she found herself in, she was obviously horny and in need of attention. A situation that her husbands employers and half the African men within a hundred miles would be only to happy to remedy for her. Joseph's job was to make sure that she and her husband became productive members of the African workforce as well as willing participants in the many and varied sexual activities that occurred whenever ex-pats came into contact with the ruling class of the new Zimbabwe.

Amanda Peterson lay on her bed head hanging over one end, frantically trying to regain her breath, her face was streaked with a mixture of cum, saliva and sweat. Standing over her grinning was one of the gardeners who tended to the communal areas of the small compound within which her lovely villa sat, his cock bobbed obscenely above her tempting her. She knew only to well what he wanted, he wanted her to beg for it. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on her, the white mistress begging the black garden boy for his cock, she knew she would give in, she always did, she was addicted to black cock now and nothing came between her and her need for fulfilment.

"Please let me suck your cock."

The words were whispered but heard and before she could take another breath the stiff black cock was forced into her mouth once again vigorously fucking her face. Amanda's hands frantically worked between her soaked thighs as she gagged on the meat in her throat, she knew that the boy would probably be there all night but she wanted as many orgasms as possible as she never knew when she might be called upon again, she wasn't the only white housewife in the area with a penchant for young black cock and the rough working class gardener with his calloused hands was her favourite. He was a little more boyish and gentle than some of the other Africans who called on her and her husband, he was less perverted and obscene, not so turned on by humiliating the submissive English couple, he just wanted to use her body and sometimes that was just what she needed.

From her upside down vantage point she could just make out her husband kneeling at the foot of the bed his eyes transfixed by the sight of his pretty wife sucking furiously on the large black cock. She could see how aroused he was, his cock pressing against the pretty white lace panties the gardener had insisted he wear, by the looks of the stain on the front he had cum already and a second soaking didn't look to be too far off.

Poor James, the first six months of their stay in Zimbabwe had been hardest for him, coming to terms with his new role in life hadn't been easy. His cock was utterly useless to Amanda now of course but he was still a doting husband and father to both Amanda and their eighteen year old Daughter Samantha.

Her eyes met those of her husband as Amanda gagged slightly, drool running down her upturned chin as her lovers cock hit the back of her throat. He no longer blushed when she saw him dressed in her underwear but it was obvious her husband was slightly ashamed at his predicament. Amanda was sure she could detect a slight sadness behind his eyes, a hint of something lost, something beaten into submission. In her eyes James was less of a man now, when compared to the African men who had broken her, reduced as he so frequently was to a secondary player in their sexual activities. Recently she thought she had detected a growing sense of enjoyment in his role as the cuckolded husband, but she couldn't be sure. She still loved him of course but he was more a companion now, almost like a girlfriend, certainly no longer a lover and protector or the man who looked after her.

Richard nursed his beer, his eyes slowly becoming accustomed to the dark surroundings of the club Tom had taken him to. Tom had assured him he was going to see the "locals" side of Harare not the places the tourists went to for a cocktail before dinner. True to his word the place was packed with Africans of all shapes and sizes, Robert had never seen so many black people in one place at once dancing, drinking and laughing the night away. Peculiarly, or perhaps not, most of the clientele were male and all the waitress's were abundantly female and wearing the most outrageous tiny bikinis, Robert watched as one girl who couldn't have been older than nineteen but had the figure of a fully grown women was groped repeatedly as she passed through the crowd delivering beers to thirsty punters, she was laughing and joking and didn't bat an eyelid. Robert could feel his cock twitching, the girl was quiet beautiful with very full breasts, her nipples clearly straining the fabric of her yellow bikini top. For one moment he wondered if he could get away with touching her the next time she asked if there was anything he wanted to drink, his cheeks coloured at the thought. That sort of thing would earn you at least a slap and more likely a court order back in England, but here anything seemed possible, how refreshing he thought and exciting.

He was glad to see that there were at least a few other white people there besides Tom and himself, locals presumably. He noticed a very young looking white women sitting at a private table with a huge African man, he was wearing what looked like a very expensive suit, the young woman had a very low cut black dress on, her considerable cleavage on display for all to see. The girl was beautiful and clearly having a lovely time sipping Champagne and laughing and joking with her companion as he stroked her thighs affectionately, the contrast in their skin colours reminded Robert of the erotic roadside clinch he had witnessed earlier in the night.

Robert had also noticed an older women, maybe in her early forties, sitting at a table with about four men. They were all African and all dressed in the overalls favoured by the gardeners and domestics that worked at the various compounds in the suburbs, the whole thing struck Robert as a bit odd, was she taking some of her staff out for a drink? The women was dressed in a lovely summer dress red with white flowers dotted all over it, Miranda had one just like it, it showed a bit of cleavage but nothing to outrageous, her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail which flicked from side to side frequently as she women chatted and joked with each of the men in turn. She was certainly knocking back the beers, as were her companions, he felt sure one of the men was touching her leg under the table but he couldn't see properly.

"How are we doing old man?"

Tom clapped Robert on the back, he had been in the toilets an inordinate amount of time and sat himself down with another beer.

"So what do you think of the place, used to bring Patricia here when we were younger."

Robert struggled to imagine the stately Patricia, Tom's wife, here in this club, but he supposed in Africa all things were possible.

"Its....its er interesting!"

"Wait until a little later on old boy." Tom winked suggestively and waved the waitress over.

"Robert this is Iris, she'll look after us tonight, wont you my love?"

Tom hooked his arm round the girls waist and openly cupped her generous breasts pinching a nipple as he did so, they were obviously old acquaintances. The nubile Iris swotted Tom's wandering hand and smiled at Robert.

"Any friends of this old pervert needs to be watched, I hope I wont have any trouble with you tonight."

Robert could feel his ears burning as he blushed at the suggestive conversation, Iris grinned.

"No, don't worry I'll be good."

As soon as the words slipped out he regretted them, he was talking like a little boy, worse still the knowing look he was rewarded with from Iris made him blush further, he prayed she wouldn't notice the bulge in his trousers as well.

"A good boy? Not too good I hope?"

She raised an eyebrow and wandered off to a table of shouting Africans.

"Looks like we might just catch a show old man!"

Tom indicated the table that the white women and her entourage were sitting at, they were getting progressively louder, the men seemed to be egging the woman on to do something. She had a couple of empty shot glasses in front of her and seemed to be a bit drunk now, her hair in slight disarray and her dress had managed to work its way up her shapely thighs a little, two of the buttons on her dress seemed to have come undone exposing a lot more cleavage. Robert looked on fascinated by the scene, unaware of Tom's subtle scrutiny of him. Suddenly a cheer erupted from the table and the woman got unsteadily to her feet, a shot glass in hand which she promptly downed before slamming the glass on the table with the others.

By now the other tables close by were cheering and clapping as she made her way to a small stage hidden from view behind a curtain that was being hastily drawn back. Chairs were rapidly arranged around the stage and people fought to get the best spot, soon enough a huge crowd surrounded the woman as she swayed unsteadily on her feet watching her audience as they bayed their approval. Robert realised she was going to do a strip in front of fifty or sixty obviously horny and raucous black men. He was stunned momentarily what on earth was going on? He looked over at Tom who just winked at him and nodded back in the direction of the woman.

The noise from the crowd was deafening, the area where Tom and Robert were sitting was empty now with most of the drinkers crowded round the small stage yelling encouragement at the women although Robert wondered if she needed any. He was stunned that a respectable seeming white women of a certain age would willingly get on stage and expose herself to a crowd of African men in some seedy bar. Stunned and aroused he quickly discovered, his cock had been twitching all night ever since the car trip, what was it about Africa that made westerners lose their inhibitions? He could see the woman lifting her dress showing her stockings off to the crowd of salivating men, their hands outstretched groping and caressing her exposed skin, once again the contrast between black and white excited him, god by the look on her face she was almost crazy with lust.

"She comes here once a month, usually when her husband is away on business. Those men with her are gardeners who work for her and her friends."

Robert could feel Iris pressing her breasts into his arm as he watched the increasingly aroused woman slowly undoing her buttons to reveal a very well filled bra. His cock strained against the material of his trousers, he was horribly aware of a wet spot developing. Thankfully Tom appeared to have wandered off again so at least he was spared that embarrassment.

"Sometimes her husband comes along as well, he sits back here out of the way while she gets her kicks, he usually comes in his pants, like a dirty little boy."

Robert was acutely aware of Iris's hot breath on his ear, her lips brushing his skin tentatively. An image of Miranda, his Miranda, drunk and being groped by a group of black domestics and garden workers suddenly appeared in his mind, his groin throbbed, his was desperately hoping that it wouldn't all get too much for him.