She lay there basking in the afterglow. "Oh, my God," she thought, "that was the best and totally unexpected." She still couldn't believe what happened. It was like the best dream ever, but real. She snuggled against her lover feeling his cock against her bottom. She looked at the clock; it was late. She knew he would be up waiting. She didn't need to explain her tardiness; the expression on her face, the tone of her voice, and when he had his face pressed against her pleasure center he would know. No further explanation was necessary. He would do what he always did, worship her sex with his mouth. If she felt indulgent she might even let him cum. Then again she mused her cuckold of a husband might be unable to control his excitement and shoot his fireworks while licking her clean of her lovers' cum.
Her lover told her the Swahili word for his seed was manii; twice he filled her with copious amounts of manii. She knew once she got up and moving it would leak out of her, collecting in the crotch of her panties. Some would remain, determined to make its way deeper into her body, seeking out its target. His taste and scent would remain with her giving her cuck pleasure for hours.
She quietly eased out of the bed and began to dress looking down at her lover sleeping. He looked content. She thought about putting her head under the covers and taking his thick, black, long, powerful, and beautiful dhakari into her mouth. Not that it would fit into her mouth; even soft it was too thick and long for her to take it all in. She fought the temptation not wanting to disappoint him. When she attempted to after he came the first time he gently reproached her and told her it was against His will.
He briefly stared at her while he formed his words, "Jean', he said with a thick Kenyan accent, "I know your mouth will feel very good, but it's wrong. It's better to avoid the temptation. My manni belong in your womb, not your stomach. Give it time. In the meantime we can talk. When I am hard again we will pleasure each other and I will pass you my manni."
She finished dressing but felt pulled. She thought about spending the night, not to spite her cuck, but because she wanted more of the Kenyan's lovemaking, to feel his dhakari in the middle of the night and again in the morning. She reminded herself not to be greedy.
She wondered if they would see each other again and hoped it was soon. He didn't stir. Not only was he good in bed she enjoyed his company. She gathered her purse, looked at him one last time, and quietly left the room.
She walked down the hallway towards the lobby. She wondered if the same clerk was on duty. He was a young man. His jaw dropped when she and he entered the lobby arm in arm. Not only were mixed couples a rarity where they lived, she was sure he saw her rings. He knew she was married and now he would know it wasn't to the black man with the thick accent in room 112. She thought his stare last time lacked the discretion a hotel clerk should have so she intended to meet his stare with her own.
The clerk was there, a chubby white man, with the face of a boy, in his early twenties. He wasn't looking but leering. The feel of George's cum as she walked prompted her to be more daring than normal. She changed directions and headed for the counter.
