It's Not Bechuanaland!

Africa was changing. She had to. The old empires were crumbling. In some parts the change was chaotic, violent even. But in the British Protectorate of Bechuanaland things had changed relatively peacefully.

Samuel Fitzgerald had joined the Bechuanaland Civil Service straight from University. He wasn't the brightest spark but he had never needed to be. The Bechuanaland Civil Service was a pretty undemanding career.

The local tribal chieftains had always been fairly happy to have the protection of England. Protection from other more, shall we say, aggressive European colonial powers. Britain had never gained much from protecting Bechuanaland other than frustrating these other powers.

The downside was that the English had never had any incentive to put much into Bechuanaland and therefore it was the least developed of all the African territories.

By the 1960's the 'Wind of Change' was definitely blowing through Africa. While many European Countries, including Britain, sought to slow up, influence or even halt this change the independence movement in Bechuanaland found little resistance.

So, in 1966 the Republic of Botswana was born.

The British Government continued to fund the new country for the first five years, consequently the infant government adopted many of the institutions of their former protectors. This included the newly created Civil Service of the Republic of Botswana.

Now, because in many instances the aforementioned Samuel Fitzgerald was the only person who had a bloody clue how the Civil Service worked, he had been invited to stay on as Civil Service Advisor to the Government of the Republic of Botswana.

......................

Ever since he had arrived in Bechuanaland with his new wife, Agnes, Samuel's life had been pretty indylic.

He was well respected. Not so much for what he did as much as what he represented, the stability of the British Empire. Samuel spent no more than four hours a day on the tedious work of the Civil Service. The rest of the time Agnes and he spent at the Civil Service Club, which was totally financed by the Colonial Office in London, where they played Bridge or Tennis or swam or drank cocktails.

You may be wondering, from what I have told you, how a Civil Service Club could possibly survive given the minute size of the Bechuanaland Civil Service. The truth was that membership of the club was open to all British Expatriates. As a result there were many more merchants, engineers or salesmen than actual civil servants. None of these gentlemen were of the first order which was how they had ended up in this part of Africa.

Samuel Fitzgerald and Agnes had the use of a pleasant government owned fully furnished single storied house on the outskirts of Gaborone. Life was easy there. They employed a cook and several 'house boys' who took care of the building and gardens. These servants lived in the nearby village.

Most evenings, Agnes would pour gins and tonic which the couple would drink while they watched the sun go down. After that they would invariably make love on the veranda as darkness fell.

Sex was Agnes' overriding passion. Fortunately, it was Samuel's too. Neither of them had ever lost the lustful desire for each other.

While Agnes was not in any way fat she did have a voluptuousness about her.

This, coupled with her flaming red hair, made every local man turn and stare at her as she passed by. And not just the local men either. Of course, she was flattered by all of this but Samuel provided all the sexual excitement that she needed.

..............................

One evening, as she poured their drinks, Samuel accidentally knocked over both glasses.

"Oh, bugger!" Agnes exclaimed.

"Sorry, clumsy me!" said Samuel.

Agnes looked around for the domestic help but realised that she would have to deal with it herself. Remembering that outdoor cleaning items were kept in a cupboard to one side of the veranda she went to fetch a mop.

Pulling open the louvre slatted door Agnes was astounded to find Mogotsi, one of the house boys, standing inside with a rather impressive stiff penis in his hand.

"Oh! What are you doing there?" she rather naively exclaimed.

"Just watching, madam," the young man replied.

"Oh."

Suddenly Agnes realised what was occurring. Should she scream? It would surely mean dismissal for Mogotsi, whom she quite liked. His mother relied on the income her son brought home.

Agnes regained her composure, picked up the mop, closed the door and returned to where Samuel was seated.

She quickly dealt with the spillage. When Agnes opened the cupboard door to replace the mop, Mogotsi's hardness had not diminished. She stared at it for a few minutes. The young man pulled the loose foreskin back and forth over the head of his penis.

Samuel was circumcised and Agnes had never seen anything quite like this before.

She gulped in a large gulp and closed the cupboard door.

Her husband was somewhat surprised when his wife stood before him and pulled her cotton dress over her head.

"I say, you're keen, old thing. I haven't had my second g & t yet," he laughed.

Agnes replied, "You can go without just this once."

She dragged him to his feet, sank to her knees and pulled down his shorts and underpants. She cupped his testicles in one hand while placing her right palm around his cock.

He was soon erect.

Agnes tried to pull the taut skin up over Samuel's pink helmet.

"Steady on, old girl, that's a bit on the painful side."

Getting up, Anges slipped off her knickers and bent over the table, making sure that she was facing the cupboard door.

"Fuck me now, please."

"Anything to oblige," said Samuel, taking his place behind her.

He entered her and waited for a few seconds before starting to thrust.

As her breasts began to swing in her bra, Anges thought of Mogotsi pulling his dark skin over his purple head. Was he enjoying the show? She revelled in the thought of being watched. It came to her that maybe Mogotsi would like to see her lily white English tits. As Samuel banged her, she reached down and released the catch on her front fastening bra. Her nipples made their way out into the cool evening air, she slipped the straps from her shoulders and they slid down her arms. The house boy now had an unencumbered view.

She felt herself orgasm just before Samuel did the same. His timing was always impeccable.

They stayed just as they were for a minute or so, both breathing deeply.

Agnes gathered up her clothes and made for the house. She had thought about taking another look in the cupboard but felt that maybe Mogotsi would find that too embarrassing. And besides, she had another plan.

Samuel stepped out of his shorts, picked them up and followed her. Agnes was already laying on the bed and was adjusting the mosquito net. Samuel joined her.

As she lifted her knees and opened her legs wide, Samuel took the hint.

He pushed a thumb into Agnes and started to spread his semen into some of the areas that his cock had missed. Agnes purred softly.

Then he replaced his thumb with two fingers, exploring totally different responsive places.

He took his time.

Occasionally, he gave the impression that he was about to touch her swollen clitoris but then he changed direction.

At last Agnes rather spoiled his fun and orgasmed violently anyway.

The next morning Mogotsi avoided eye contact, this suited Agnes.

...............................................

At the club the following afternoon Christine, Agnes' long time friend, was attempting to work her way through the cocktail list. Agnes was sticking to her preferred gin and tonic.

Christine was a few years older than Agnes and had been born in Bechuanaland. She was currently in her third marriage.

Unlike the well brought up young ladies who arrived from England, Christine's use of the English language was downright filthy. This had shocked Agnes at first but she soon realised that it was fairly normal among the colonial ladies. She resisted at first but now she was at the same level most of the time, particularly when in conversation with Christine.

"You know all the dos and don'ts of life out here. Do many European women have flings with their house boys?" enquired Agnes.

"Good God, no!" exclaimed Christine.

She went on, "It's considered a complete No! No!

"Can you imagine the storm if one got knocked up?

"It was a bit before your time but there was a hell of a stink when a local tribal chief married an English girl. Not just from the British side either. His brother deposed him and they had to go and live abroad.

"If it's an additional fuck or two that you want, I can fix you up with some virile young construction workers from Ireland."

Agnes laughed, "No, it's nothing like that. Although he's a few years older than me, Samuel is more than satisfying in that area."

"I'm glad to hear it. Why then do you ask?"

"Oh, I was just wondering. I know that some women seek out the forbidden fruit, as it were," said Agnes.

"Since you ask, one does hear stories from time to time.

"Quite rightly, they draw the line at being penetrated but some girls like to play with their house boy's cocks. Wank them off or the like.

"And I did hear of a older lady who paid one of her servants handsomely to lick her out before and after her husband fucked her. It helped to make up for his shortcomings, if you know what I mean.

"No, if you'll take my advice stay clear of that sort of thing. If you must do it, limit things to something that won't get you pregnant.

"What I tend to do is to just imagine my house boys queued up to fuck me. That usually gets me off," concluded Christine.

.....................................

Before she had met Samuel, Agnes' life story had been complex. Born ten years after her older sister, her hair colouring had made it obvious that her mother's husband wasn't her father. Eventually, her mother was given an ultimatum and Agnes was sent to live with an elderly relative in Surrey.

Her life changed forever when a friend had introduced her to Samuel. She fell for him straight away. By that time, he had applied for the position with the Bechuanaland Civil Service. The couple had wed just before they left for Africa.

Everything about married life thousands of miles away from her old life suited Agnes.

Years later and she still adored Africa and she still adored Samuel.

...........

After her chat with Christine, Agnes felt reassured. She hadn't really considered having it off with Mogotsi but she rather liked the idea that she aroused him sexually. It gave her a thrill.

That evening, as the sun was going down, Agnes poured their drinks. She contained her excitement long enough for them to enjoy their second gin and tonic before initiating sex with Samuel.

Tonight it was a more drawn out affair in which she made sure that all of the action took place in full view of the veranda cupboard. While Samuel was fucking her from behind she pulled firmly on one of her nipples. She felt that Mogotsi would appreciate that.

Finally, they slumped exhausted into the wicker chairs.

"You go on in, darling. I will be there shortly," she instructed her husband.

Something inside her was curious to know if her exhibition had excited the house boy. Still naked, she walked towards the louvred door.

Much to her surprise, when she opened the cupboard door it wasn't Mogotsi standing inside. It was one of the other house boys. An older man named Hastings.

"Oh! What are you doing there?" she asked.

"It is my turn tonight, madam," he replied.

Agnes looked down. Hastings had his still semi-erect penis in one hand. In the palm of the other was a large pool of semen. After a moment's thought, Agnes dipped two fingers in the sticky liquid and smeared it on her left nipple.

She closed the cupboard door as if it was all completely normal and went to bed where Samuel fingered her to a final orgasm.

On most nights after that Agnes would open the door either before or after Samuel and she had fucked. Sometimes there was nobody there but usually any one of the house boys was in position ready to watch his female employer being rogered. As the mood took her, Agnes would touch the man's penis or not but never more than that.

................................................

When in 1966 independence came at last to Bechuanaland it was all very civilised. There were handover ceremonies conducted by a rather distant relative of the Queen. Elections took place and a government was formed.

Now, the newly renamed Botswana Civil Service Club was opened to all members of the Civil Service. The general consensus amongst those expats returning home was that the club would go to ruin.

If anything, the opposite happened. The club became more vibrant and if anything more British. The Botswanans behaved as they thought the English should behave rather than how they did behave.

Christine was a little disappointed. She rather enjoyed the regular sight of some snooty white wife getting drunk and falling over or worse, taking her clothes off. That sort of thing just didn't happen anymore.

By sheer coincidence, it was at about this time that the couple both began to notice changes in Samuel's body. Previously, he had never had any problem getting and maintaining a decent erection. At first it was just the slightest bit less rigid but slowly things deteriorated to a point where anything usable wasn't always guaranteed.

Agnes was sympathetic. Maybe he was tired or slightly unwell. She even suggested that he may wish to try a younger woman.

Samuel reassured her that he still found her attractive and that his desire for Agnes hadn't diminished.

He went to see his doctor. Rather unhelpfully, the doctor suggested that he should be over that sort of malarkey at his age. When Samuel disagreed, the doctor stated that he'd obviously overused his pipework and that things had now furred up down there.

An African doctor in the local village chanted and blew smoke on Samuel's genitals. He made him carry a short thick stick for a week. None of this helped.

The couple no longer made love on the veranda each evening. As they lay under the mosquito net Agnes would often open her legs wide and Samuel would perform his magic. He had lost none of his fingering skills.

She assured him that she didn't miss the feeling of being penetrated by a stiff cock and he pretended to believe her.

Occasionally, Agnes came close to suggesting something really drastic and occasionally Samuel came close to suggesting something equally drastic too but neither shared their thoughts with the other.

Instead Agnes took Christine's advice and used her imagination. This always helped her to achieve a screaming orgasm.

By 1970, Samuel had done a rather too good a job of advising the Botswana Civil Service and the Botswana Civil Service decided that he was no longer required. Well that was his side of the story. The Botswanans rather felt that things worked better without him.

He was now just past retirement age so Samuel and Agnes returned 'home'.

............................................

The England that they had left over thirty years ago wasn't the England they returned to.

Much of the damage caused by war time bombing had been rebuilt but it wasn't pretty. The architecture was mainly stark and butalist. The people were more affluent but less polite. They all seemed to be in a rush as nearly everyone had a motor car. There was strife and strikes everywhere. Nobody appeared content with their life.

The couple went to live with an elderly uncle and aunt of Samuel's. They hated Portsmouth and were glad that it was only going to be a short-term arrangement while they considered where they wanted to live. As it was they were there over Christmas and well into the New Year.

Sammy, as his aunt called him, had loved the family holidays in Dorset, she said. Aunty pointed out an advert in a Sunday newspaper for a 'Retirement Village' not far from Sturminster Newton. It was fairly rural so they may find it more like Africa, she thought.

Agnes suggested that they go and look at the place.

They borrowed Uncle's old Morris Minor 1000 and made it a two day trip down to Dorset. The Bed and Breakfast, run by two funny little sisters, was clean and comfortable. Agnes had rather hoped that she would be treated to a noisy orgasm while they were away but their room was situated between those of the two ladies. It was just like being at Aunty and Uncle's.

On the way from there to the Retirement Village they stopped at a Picnic Area. Samuel bent Agnes over a table, pulled her knickers to one side and slipped his thumb into her. With two fingers brushing against her clitoris, Samuel pumped Agnes fast and hard until her juices ran down her inner thighs. She even felt some trickle into her left sandal. At that point she came. Her obscenities echoed around the Picnic Area.

With Samuel seated upon the table Agnes sucked him off. She could feel that there was a little swelling in his cock so she was pleased. She refused to stop sucking as his spunk spread onto her tongue. This time it was his turn to call her obscene names.

It was lovely to see the spring flowers along the green Dorset lanes as they at last reached their destination. Such a contrast to the dirty streets of Portsmouth and a whole world away from Botswana.

The Broad Oak Retirement Village was set back a little from the lane. As they turned into the drive they noticed a sweet little bus shelter near to the entrance. It was substantially built of stone and had two bench seats and glass filled windows to protect the waiting passengers from the elements.

They passed through a gate which had a discreet notice with the information that the gate would be locked between 10pm and 7am each night. There was a phone in a little box for requesting entry outside of these hours. All very reassuring.

Neat and tidy was the only way to describe the grounds of the village.

A blonde smartly dressed lady of about forty showed them around the place. Gloria Chadwick was glowingly proud of everything that Broad Oak had to offer. She explained that she lived on site and was only a telephone call away, if needed.

Of the dozen two bedroom bungalows just under half were already occupied. Mr and Mrs Fitzgerald could have their choice of the others. Each had its own courtyard garden. All the other communal areas were tended by the ground staff. This and all other services and maintenance was included in the monthly fees.

Presently, there was one other couple in the village. She was disabled. All of the other residents were single men.

"Not ideal. From now on we will only accept couples or single ladies," Gloria told them.

She lived in the Admin Building. As well as the office this housed a communal recreation room in addition to a café come shop where daily items like bread, milk and newspapers could be purchased. The doctor from Sturminster attended a fully equipped surgery in the Admin Building every Friday morning and was available at other times if necessary.

Miss Chadwick went on, "Most people have a car but there is an excellent bus service to Sturminster Newton which saves one having to find a parking space.

"Oh, and there is a golf club half a mile away if that's your thing."

"Golf's not big in Botswana," laughed Samuel.

Gloria layed out the cost of purchasing a bungalow as well as the service charges. Both were really expensive but Samuel had spent so little during their years in Africa and had two very generous civil service pensions that he just shrugged his shoulders.

"The cost is not really the issue but we must be sure that wherever we end up is right for us," he said.

"Quite so." replied Gloria, "Why don't you both wander around and do a thorough exploration?