My wife Hilda had unexpectedly found some sort of a yoga group. At times it seemed it was all she was talking about. Well, it was not exactly yoga but had some strange name, which I never learned to remember. At first, I didn't pay that much attention to it. I guess I was just happy that she had a hobby that she was so enthusiastic about. A hobby of which salutary effect she would occasionally praise to me as well.
I didn't know exactly what happened in the sessions, but my graceful and lean wife seemed to become even more beautiful and flexible because of it. And on top of it all, it became most evident when we were having sex. She seemed to be in the mood much more often than before and we tried all these new and wild positions. And it was amazing every time.
This had been going on for a couple of months when she once came home worried and started explaining that the group leader would be losing his apartment. She had promised to ask me if we could accommodate the instructor Mr. Djibu for a while in our apartment. I told her right away that we didn't have room for any subtenent, and that I didn't fancy to host a surprise visitor from the Orient.
Hilda immediately corrected that Djibu was not from the Orient at all but from the Caribbean islands. This was a surprise to me because I thought that yoga came from somewhere Far East. My wife animatedly explained that her hobby wasn't actually yoga, but some kind of amazing Afro-Caribbean relaxation ritual,
"But that's not the main point now." my wife insisted and went on, "Djibu's apartment is going under and he needs to find accommodation for at least a couple of weeks. I kind of promised him that he could come to live with us. He's a nice guy, you'll get along with him just fine."
"Damn, I don't know..." I hesitated and slowly began to screw up the whole conversation.
Hilda didn't want to hear any of it and in a snapping tone made up her mind on it,
"It'll be no burden to us at all. Djibu is nice and calm. And I do mean really nice. I'm sure he will soon find a new home. I'll call him so that he can come to us, okay? Well, I'm calling now, don't say anything else!"
Then she took her phone and went to the balcony. There I was just looking through the glass while my wife called the leader of her ritual group and invited this unknown man to lodge with us for an indefinite time. As she spoke to him she looked so perky and joyful that for a moment I thought that maybe it is not so bad if it means that much to her. I also admired her perfect round tushy wawing from side to side as she was swaying it while leaning slightly over the balcony fence.
After she returned my foul mood returned. She had not listened to me and had invited this strange Djibu guy without my consent. I was quite sour about it all and we didn't have sex that night, or the next morning. Later when I came home from work, Hilda and Djibu were carrying his stuff into my home. Strange statues and ceremonial items were amongst the moving boxes, which luckily weren't that many. Still, they accumulated quite a pile in the corner of our living room.
A big, dark-skinned, and shaved African-American man dropped a strange-looking wooden pole from his hands and came to shake my hand. As I held out my hand, I thought that this was now our new roommate, Djibu. My hand disappeared inside the man's big shovel-like hands as he grabbed me with both palms.
His face had a calm expression and a benevolent smile. I noted his massive wide nose and stout jaw. I had to look up all the time since the man who had been training my wife with his rituals was extremely tall. The moment seemed to last a long time and he stared intensively down into my eyes until I felt so uncomfortable that I just had to look away.
"Oh, you've already met! Nice! Isn't Djibu a great guy, honey?" came Hilda's happy voice as she closed the door after all the boxes were in.
"It's still hard to say, but I guess we'll get along..." I muttered and my wife nudged me with her elbow irritated by my zealless attitude.
Somehow I managed to catch up on some sleep that night, even though I was bothered by the fact that a strange guest was staying in the living room. In the middle of the night, I took a piss and made sure the black man was sound asleep in his own quarters. After that, I calmed down considerably.
But in the morning there was a surprise so incomprehensible that I'm still having a hard time believing it. I sleepily headed for the kitchen and ran into a naked Djibu. He was brewing some strange-smelling herbal tea at a good pace. The man was completely alert and calm, even though he was standing in front of me without any clothes.
At first, the big black man had his back to me, but then he calmly turned to put the cups on the table. My eyes got stuck on the man's genitalia. A brutal cock with a large, dark leather pouch hung between his muscular thighs. My sleepiness disappeared instantly. Djibu noticed me staring but continued his morning activities leisurely, letting his tools swing casually while fixing the tea.
I had to run off to warn Hilda, who was still dressing up and putting on her makeup in our bedroom. I rushed into our bedroom and slammed the door shut in shock. She could see something was wrong with my sudden arrival and asked what the hell had happened.
"Hell, you'll never believe it! That friend of yours is hustling in our kitchen butt-naked! Big dick hanging bare! Oh my god, what a dude!" I foamed and felt my pulse racing.
Hilda's answer could not have terrified me more than it did.
"Calm down now, babe. Djibu just has such a way," she said lightly and continued applying mascara to her eyes.
"How can you say that? As if this was somehow normal now!" I replied. I was sweating and pacing back and forth as I was so flustered.
"Well, I'm used to seeing him naked. Well, I do admit he is quite a big man... he's been naked more than once in the group exercises. It's part of the rituals," explained Hilda, still calm.
