Still fully clothed himself, Kwame gracefully carried Lydia's girdle and brassiere clad body out of the closet and gently led her over to the crisply made bed in the center of the Benson's lavish bedroom.
Holding Lydia securly in his strong, lean arms, Kwame could feel the velvety smooth softness of the older woman's undergarments against his skin and the sweet, intoxicating smell of her perfume as it wafted around him.
Nuzzling Lydia on the shoulder with his wet lips, Kwame took in the beautiful sight of the white woman's skin as it contrasted vividly against his black hands. Allowing his face to disappear inside Lydia's blonde mane of hair, Kwame came to a stop with his conquest in his arms, right above her own marital bed.
Lowering her down gently, Kwame eased his forearms out from underneath Lydia's back, allowing the speechless wife to lay flat on top of her cushy comforter. Taking two steps back to survey the unreal situation, Kwame slipped his slightly trembling fingers around the top button of his dress shirt.
Kwame steadily undressed at the foot of the bed, doing his best to act as cool as possible as he soaked in the illicit sight of Lydia laying helplessly there. Allowing his gaze to take in some of the adornments decorating the Benson's bedroom wall, Kwame couldn't help but feel like a thief in the night seeing the dozens of pictures of Lydia's friends and family smiling down. It felt a little eerie to Kwame as he prepared to fuck Lydia with several pictures of her husband on each side, his eyes in the pictures seemingly locked on the bed in the center of the room, watching with a 'say cheese' smile on his face as his wife silently beckoned another man onto their marital bed to fuck her.
Dropping his now crinkled white dress shirt to the floor, Kwame undid his belt, unzipped his slacks and stepped out of them one leg at a time. Standing above Lydia now in nothing but his white boxer shorts, Kwame started to wrap his thumbs in the elastic band the strip them off but decided to hold that off for a few more moments.
"I've got all night," Kwame whispered to himself as he eased one knee up onto the mattress and brushed his warm fingertips across the bare flesh of Lydia's arm, causing the married woman to flinch from his touch. Sliding his hand off of Lydia's arm and easing it steadily underneath her back, Kwame found the metal hooks of the blonde's brassiere and blindly began undoing them, one at a time.
Kwame's dick hardened the instant the last clasp came free from Lydia's constrictive undergarment. Hearing the older woman exhale as he lifted the body hugging shaper free over her arms, Kwame's adrenaline level boiled over when Lydia's 34C breasts spilled free from their cups and bounced invitingly down across her chest.
"UMMM...perfect," Kwame groaned, taking both his palms and placing them down on top of Lydia's womanly swells.
With his hands on a white woman's bosom for the first time in his life, Kwame hungrily kneaded his fingers into the 41 year old woman's titflesh as he reminded himself that there were still a few hidden treasures he still had left to uncover.
Keeping his left hand glued to Lydia's cleavage, Kwame inched his right hand down Lydia's waistline and proceeded to do what he had only imagined. Digging his fingers into the top of Lydia's crisp, cream colored girdle, Kwame whispered down to Lydia, telling her to lift her ass slightly so that he could finish what he had started.
With the married woman's small firm asscheeks now raised off the mattress, Kwame immediately took advantage of the opportunity and rolled Lydia's girdle, hose and underwear all the way down her slim white legs.
Kwame's youthful face illuminated vividly when the sight of Lydia's golden pubic fleece came into view and the way her tender pink vaginal lips peeked ever so slightly out from her curly blonde V. Feeling his cock become painfully engorged in his boxer shorts, all Kwame could think about doing was impaling Lydia Benson to the hilt with it.
Kwame never took his eyes off the white woman's prized cunt as he pulled her various undergarments down her thighs, over her knees and finally off her ankles, until he was able to drop Lydia's silky underwear on the floor next to his own discarded clothes.
With Lydia completely stripped, Kwame stood tall at the foot of the bed, committing the woman's bare image to memory before setting in to do what he had longed to for years.
Leaning down, Kwame pressed each of his hands down beside Lydia's knees and grazed his palms along the outline of her body. First exploring the contours of Lydia's thighs, Kwame eased his fingertips over Lydia's waistline, along the sides of her belly and up underneath Lydia's ticklish underarms.
Finally wrapping his grip around Lydia's milky white shoulders, Kwame clutched her upper torso tightly, using her body as an anchor as he pulled himself all the way up on the bed beside her naked body.
Lowering his thick lips down to the dainty pink oval of Lydia's mouth, Kwame's insides fizzed when he felt Lydia's warm breath seep into his lungs.
Squeezing his lips forcefully against Lydia's, Kwame blindly allowed his hands to roam over the married woman's shoulders, breasts and stomach. After sharing a lingering, deep soulful kiss with the previously untouchable older woman, Kwame gently weaned his lips away from Lydia's and listened to the sound of the white woman's gasps for air when the friction was broken.
Rubbing his smooth black hands through Lydia's straight blonde hair, Kwame eased his lips down onto the nape of Mrs. Benson's neck, biting the soft flesh tenderly as the salty, perfume laced essence of her skin filled is senses. Feeling the older woman turn to jelly from his lurid advances, Kwame furtively pulled Lydia closer with his viselike grip as his mouth descended her shaking body.
Slithering his long tongue over Lydia's collarbone, Kwame drifted it across the paralyzed woman's pale chest as his razor stubbled chin caused goosebumps to raise visibly on her ample womanhood.
Kwame stretched both his hands outwards, to each side of Lydia, so he could support his weight as his mouth worked lower. Spreading his lips wide, the young exchange student planted a fervent kiss on the upper part of Lydia's jiggling bosom.
Even though she was happily married, Lydia's had somehow given complete control of her body and spirit to the aggressive teenager. Feeling Kwame's tongue wetly swirl and spin over her tingling breasts, she let out an audible gasp when she finally felt his teeth gently bite down on her painfully erect nipples, bringing several tears of deprived pleasure to the older woman's ocean blue eyes. With every inch Kwame's face drifted down Lydia's torso, her well of liquid arousal boiling internally grew in intensity.
As the young man's supercharged tongue dove off the tips of Lydia's nipples and bathed her soft white belly, the faint memory of the odor he sensed while he was watching tv earlier, clicked in his head.
"That's what that smell was," Kwame said to himself wondrously, noticing that the same smell coating the hand he had used the channel changer with was the same as the heated scent wafting out of Lydia's steaming cunt.
Feeling Lydia's belly quiver under his roaming lips, Kwame opened his eyes wide and honed in on the inviting target of the older woman's golden treasure.
* * * * *
Married faithfully to the same man for almost 20 years, it had been since her casually rambunctious college days during the late 70's, that a man, other than Jefferey, had touched her intimately. Having grown so accustomed to the familiar contours of Jefferey's touch on her skin, each movement Kwame made with his mouth and hands on her flesh brought a totally new and wondrous reaction to Lydia's soul.
As the African exchange student's mouth drifted down her body, Lydia could feel the residue of his electric kisses slip hotly over the crease of her navel and then flick deliberately over her slim waistline, knowing exactly where the black teenager was heading next.
Lydia literally screamed out loud on the bed ,as if a raging fireball had exploded in her nervous system, when Kwame's carving tongue parted the outer folds of her long ignored pussy and disappeared inside her buttery slit. Lydia's short legs jerked spastically off the covers and flailed out to each side as if someone had attached jumper cables to the core of her sexuality.
* * * * *
In his 18 years of life, young Kwame Noel had never put his mouth to a woman's genitalia. Oral sex was something that was taboo in his native culture and the few women he had been with since his arrival in the States, once they got a good look at what God had endowed him with, somehow the buildup of exploring each other's body fully got lost along the way.
The prize he was currently staring at now however, as his tongue dabbed, darted and swam through it, was something that he simply couldn't resist. Lydia Benson's pussy was the symbol of everything sexually pure and deprived from him over his brief life, but provided with this rare opportunity to experience it, Kwame was determined to get as close to it as humanly possible.
As the pungent nectar of the married woman's vagina dribbled down his throat, Kwame could feel his entire face moisten from the oily patch he had pressed his lips up against. Having never eaten pussy before, Kwame had no clue if what he was doing was correct but he instinctively gathered from the way Lydia bucked and writhed under the sensation of his lips, tongue and teeth working her over, that he was holding his own.
Kwame could also feel the aroused monster in his pants brutishly bulge the constraints of his boxer shorts as he ate Lydia Benson's blonde pussy. Knowing he had the woman for as long as he wanted her, Kwame decided to pull his mouth away from her snatch so that he wouldn't waste his stored up seminal fluid all over himself and the bottom of the bed.
His mouth now saturated with Lydia's guilty nectar, Kwame drew back and sized up the situation as he methodically rolled his boxer shorts down his sinewy legs, allowing his fully engorged spear to swing freely for the first time of the night.
Massaging the heaviness of his manhood with his left hand as he lewdly stared down at Lydia on the bed, Kwame tapped his balls reassuredly, letting his aroused genitals know relief was coming soon.
Edging his right knee up onto the bed beside Lydia, Kwame gracefully sauntered up to the lithe white woman's head, still fondling himself as he decided what to do next.
With his right knee planted firmly beside Lydia's ear, Kwame dropped his fleshy appendage like a phallic missile, right on top of her drooling lips.
Watching as Lydia's face flinched when the solid weight of Kwame's dong drilled it, the black teenager patiently surveyed Lydia's reaction until he saw her mouth try to open and accept it in. Seeing the older woman's lips part, Kwame pulled his cock back, just like in the closet, before Lydia could grasp it in her mouth, leaving her clutching nothing but thin air once again. Hearing the prone woman gasp with disappointed frustration, Kwame inched his pride back down to her mouth, painting her high cheekbones with the initial drops of precum that had already seeped out.
Almost taunting Lydia now with his cock, Kwame raised it slightly and pressed it hard into the softness of her cheek.
"You want it...Huh...do you want to suck my dick Lydia?" Kwame asked with a soft hiss.
Lydia simply shook her head up and down, giving her silent approval.
"I can't hear you," Kwame quickly shot back in his thick Kenyan accent.
"Yes," Lydia whispered.
"Yes...what...what ..do...you...want?" Kwame interrogated.
