Jayne Gone Wild In Africa 2009 free porn video

Wild Africa. A story I wrote for my wife based on true events but heavily heightened with my fantasies for her.. Enjoy

WILD AFRICA



It had been over a year since our last indulgence in the forbidden delights.
The suggestion of revisiting the Gambia and rekindling the relationships there had been well discussed and was, or I had thought, the most probable route to finding Jayne a well hung black man other than finding something nearer home in the UK.
In 2011-12 some issues prevented us from enjoying time away from our families but with the conclusion of those matters, there was an opportunity to push the boundary a little and on impulse, I arranged a weeks holiday in Conakry, the capital of Guinea.
In hindsight the flight connections that initially seemed exciting and romantic (stay over in Paris) proved to be exhausting and uncomfortable. The company I used offered some assurance of reliability but clearly this was aimed at the less expectant. I told Jayne about the arrangements in good time and she was amiable, becoming more enthusiastic as time went on. I did suspect a little hesitancy so I decided to base us in a quality hotel. We weren’t disappointed with the Camayenne Hotel in Conakry and Jayne made an extra special effort to compliment the diet she’d worked on for months. She looked tremendous and deserved a memorable reward.
As the k**s are getting older they are becoming more demanding but somewhat self sufficient so making time for us isn’t the biggest problem now. Our close unit allows trust with family and we in turn have reciprocated over the years. My suggestion that I was taking Jayne away was welcomed and the offer to look after them came as I had expected, the added bonus being during term time too.

Holiday plans

One evening two weeks prior to our flights, I found Jayne exploring the hotel and locations in Guinea and over a glass of wine we discussed the holiday and pending activities. She told me later that I was to assuming and abrupt with my supposition that she would even consider taking on a local man. That said, it’s true to say that she was willing to discuss it and even to the extent that she indulged me to keep the peace.
I’d asked her to take on a group during role play and she’d agreed, describing several huge characters. That fuelled my imagination and the idea of five, six or more “Bamba” types pounding and “rag dolling” her was more intoxicating than the bottle of Merlot I’d consumed. I also made demands (as she put it) for her to wear lingerie during the encounters, specifically stockings and heels and other desirables, desirable to me that is.
The most extraordinary request I made was for her to have full intercourse without the use of a condom. Jayne showed really no reluctance or surprise when I said I wanted her to let a black man ejaculate inside her. I did shock myself and I remember my heart pounding in my chest and ears after I said it. She simply answered “why not”
That really got me hot under the collar and I pestered her to confirm that she would which didn’t help the mood. It resulted in a “lets wait and see”

After we had returned from Banjul in 2011 Jayne visited our health centre to discuss going back on the pill claiming period control. I thought it would raise eyebrows but it was a relatively simple matter and since April 2011 she’s been safely on it.
I think we’d both anticipated that she would have additional partners and we even made plans to have Bamba fly to the UK. He made the excuses, not us and although it’s still a potential, we looked for alternatives.
The nearest was meeting a black guy from Leeds who met us in a car park at the Designer Outlet. He wasn’t particularly well endowed despite his email claims but he was young and good looking according to her. As it was the first meet there wasn’t going to be any penetration but after the inaugural kissing and groping, he took a “lipstick” blow job to completion from Jayne, promised to contact us again for the ultimate and then disappeared never to be heard of again.
Despite my efforts, finding the right type of men for Jayne in the UK has been difficult to say the very least, albeit plenty of time wasters.
As the holiday drew closer I took a little sneak preview of some new items in our shared case and was thrilled to find a bag labelled with La Senza. Inside were a new waspie corset, bra and knickers also two packs of stockings. I even went to the extent of investigating her makeup bag to make sure the brighter, more sensual colours were there. I did admit it to Jayne later.
To be honest she left nothing out and catered for all of my whims and eccentricities as will later become apparent.
We had to fly to Paris on Saturday, stay over night at Charles de Gaulle then fly early Sunday, Air France to Conakry. It sounded ideal until it became reality. After dropping off the k**s we drove to Manchester airport for the BMI to Paris.

A short delay had us on our way but once at CDG trouble hit. The place is colossal and the French are largely ignorant so making our way throughout was difficult and annoying. We got lost on the rail system but eventually we arrived at the most basic room to discover there wasn’t a restaurant. Then after a tenuous late tea and a couple of beers we discovered that the flight, the following morning to Conakry was delayed for three hours. It wasn’t the best start and I felt that if anything could go wrong, it would, simply to thwart our plans.
Despite everything we made the best of it and I tried very hard to avoid any overpowering interrogation of what Jayne might or might not do. As it was, just as we we’re settling down to sleep with the sound of traffic and jets roaring in the back ground she snuggled up to me and said with her eyes shut,
“Never mind… we’ll be there this time tomorrow and you can amuse yourself by finding me a hunky black guy”
I didn’t sleep well although Jayne did. Predictably the trip via the rail network was as fraught as the day before with little assistance from the airport staff. Thankfully once the endurance of security and check in, then security again we were finally in the departure lounge. I felt as though I’d been awake for 24 hours, not entirely far from the truth. Jayne looked great in contrast. She’s made some effort too with a tight floral dress, modest heels and subtle but precise makeup. Her effect was finished with a pair of large dark sunglasses and an often blank vogue expression as she surveyed the lounge and people within. It was quite obviously full of black men and woman taking the flight to Conakry and then on to Freetown, Sierra Leone. Not many Caucasians.
Irritatingly, there was no bar or cafeteria only a few extortionate drinks machines but I bit the bullet and bought two latte’s. When boarding was announced there was no orderly queue but an exodus of nationals seemingly desperate to get on the plane. We waited, typically British and in due course we were directed left into the airbus and seats with extra leg room, as requested at check in. Result !
Jayne suggested that I should have paid for business class seats but at 1k return each it had seemed expensive. Little did I know !!
The flight was long and arduous but I was so tired that I did sleep for about three hours. We held hands and dosed then towards the end of the flight we chatted and prepared for the arrival. Jayne had noticed a big African guy getting up to use the bathroom whilst I’d been sleeping and she pointed him out to me during the rush to use it again once the captain had announced the decent and seatbelts on, which infuriated me.
He was massive though, fitting all the criteria and I asked her if he was the sort of thing she had in mind. She was resting her arm on the seat rest supporting her chin with her fingers and she turned to me and said “Oh Yeah”
Exhilaration is not the word and I knew that I’d at least have to give it a go to engage him in some form of conversation or something. Unfortunately it wasn’t to be as in the bustle of landing and exiting the aircraft he disappeared but I had a refreshed idea of the parameters.

Conakry

We endured immigration and then heat as we left the airport building. I’d cleverly decided on one suitcase to foil the bumsters and airport staff who are insistent and carrying bags for a fee. Jayne handled the hand luggage and we made our way to main road that was lined with taxi’s. I opted for a half decent vehicle and asked the driver if he knew the Camayenne Hotel.
He claimed he did and then we haggled the price in US Dollars starting at 15$ (ha ha) it ended at 3$ . Conakry has a huge French influence and it’s a much more cosmo city than Banjul. There’s a large Muslim contingency mixed with a European attitude (when it suits) and for the main, French is spoken along with English and the regional Creole dialects.
The drive was fascinating as expected and surprisingly the AC in the taxi worked. We arrived at the hotel about 40 minutes after leaving the airport and after checking in we inspected the room finding it to our complete satisfaction. The staff throughout couldn’t do enough for you (as will later be explained)
I put on shorts and went for a swim in the deserted pool while Jayne showered and changed then we went for dinner, again in an empty dining room but with the full attention of the staff. What’s more the food was excellent. I had lobster and Jayne the fish which was accompanied by two bottles of wine.
Some guests eventually appeared but we retired to the hotel bar for a few more drinks and then to bed.
I wanted to get familiar with everything the following morning and to be truthful, it was far easier than expected.
We slept reasonably well. The ceiling fan gave off a pleasant hypnotic hum and the air conditioning took the sting out of the night heat. The room was spacious and clean with large curtained floor to ceiling windows. It opened to a lounge area also with large windows and through to a secluded open air shower room. Fantastic !
Jayne got up and made coffee then dressed in shorts and a blouse for breakfast. It was busier in the dining room with a mix of people, French, German and blacks. There were also a small Lebanese’s group but they remained very secular. We had breakfast and then I went to the reception to ask about a car and driver. The girl on the desk spoke really good English and also fluent French and she arranged a car with an English speaking driver for us for 11.00. There was a little confusion over the passports as I had refused to hand them over but it was easily resolved with 5$
I had it in my head that we would take a drive into and around the capital then investigate the night scene and places that I could take Jayne to “pull” The hotel had a compound wall but it was in a quiet well policed area with an obvious wealthy inhabitancy, good roads and lighting etc. Also the layout of the room and buildings was clearly discrete and getting a bloke or blokes in wasn’t going to be a problem, nor was disturbance.
The driver arrived on time and I met him at the reception paying them in advance much to his frustration. He later negotiated a more reasonable deal at the risk of loosing his patronage but selfishly for my part, I had my wife’s interests in mind, not his.




When Jayne appeared she was wearing a very short skirt but with a flowing wrap covering her legs. She’d also changed into a tight low cut top and sun cream was lightly showing white on her arms which she was busily rubbing in. She’s put on makeup too and a broad sun hat. Her sunglasses hid her eyes. It could have been perfect if she’d have been wearing high heels but the flip flops toned it down. Regardless the driver gave her a good look over. He told us his name was Kemo and his English was very understandable. At this point, it needs to be explained that he was not her type at all but he was instrumental in associating us with a more than suitable individual.
Kemo drove us into Conakry past the splendid mosque. It was a busy crowded road and the traffic movement slow. Fortunately the vehicle also had functioning air con which kept us comfortable. At one point we drove to a halt because of two large vehicles meeting head on in the road and it was a stalemate with neither lorry able to manoeuvre. The temptation to get out and walk was contradicted by Kemo who insisted that it wasn’t a good idea and that we should stay in the car until we cleared the bustle of the crowds. Jayne and I attracted some attention and there were very few white people about in the area passing the mosque. Once through the jam we negotiated wider roads, albeit in poor condition but it was less congested.
I’d asked Kemo to take us to the residential areas away from the slum side of town and to where we could find bars, restaurants and other hotels. Once away from the centre of the capital and into the mountain area surrounding the city and adjacent coves the area took on more of a resort landscape. It’s very idyllic.
We passed a number of armed military police in groups. Kemo explained that they guarded the affluent areas, particularly the Mayors house which we passed by and was very grand in a colonial style. Also the resorts visited by French, European and Middle Eastern people. We stopped at a beach head with several huts and an open bar area. Again a guard was sat waiting on a chair and as Jayne opened the car door and got out, he leapt up taking over.
Kemo said something to him and he escorted us into bar. I ordered three Heinekens and we sat in the shade at a table taking in the view of the atoll sea shore. A woman selling sea shells was hushed away by the guard and I commented about always being pestered by beggars’, sellers and bumsters.
Kemo pointed out that if you succumbed, they would constantly target you.
After we finished the drinks Jayne asked if we could find a more active area and we told Kemo we wanted local bars and nightlife. He drove us to Zonas about another five miles further along the coast. We parked the car and decided to walk around the streets that were mixed with street markets and shops. Jayne immediately took an interest and dutifully I followed.
As she was engrossed with a storekeeper over some carving, I asked Kemo if there were issues with security particularly in some areas and especially during night time. He said that it was largely safe but he advised against walking around at night. It had been on my mind all day and I asked him if he knew where I could find a guard or chaperone. I motioned like a boxer and emphasized “big man” using my open arms to demonstrate width and height. I went ridiculously overboard and we both ended up mimicking each other and laughing. It settled down with him nodding and giving it some consideration but just in case I repeated “big big man” nodding to make sure he understood.


Kemo got on his phone and made two calls and as we moved along the stalls he spoke to me and said he had a friend who knew a man who was “very large” and that he would make a request to him.
During the impromptu shopping I suggested another beer and we stopped outside a street bar while Kemo went in for the drinks. I say a bar, more a hole in the wall with a shed door painted in the Coca-Cola livery. We were scrutinized by the four inside but they seemed friendly enough. It obviously thrilled me the way they studied Jayne without any attempt to be discreet. She ignored it although I mentioned it to her, but she was nonchalant and just smirked.

The rest of the day was spent shopping with another stop for a little street kitchen. I was reluctant considering stomach complaints but Jayne tucked into the vegetable stuff and Kemo some pancakes?
Then as we were putting Jayne’s bartered purchases in the back of the car Kemos phone rang and he had a short conversation. He cupped the mouth piece in his hand and told me that his friend’s friend would “support” me for 20$. That would be around 3 weeks good wages for a Guinean. I immediately said that it was too expensive. As Kemo went back to the phone, Jayne’s inquisitive nature took over and she asked what was too expensive.
For some reason I walked her a little away from the car and was actually whispering when I told her I was trying to arrange a companion to escort us during the evening. She asked all the impossible questions a woman would ask, who is it, what’s he like, where is he?
I said I didn’t know but we’d see. I also told her that I though Kemo was adding a little to the price for himself and although I didn’t mid that, I wasn’t going to be ripped off especially as I’d paid and fed him. He came back with 15$. I gave a contemplating expression then said we would need to meet him and I asked if it could be arranged. Back on the phone, Kemo said yes and after cutting it off he told us that we could meet him on the way back at the Novotel Ghi hotel in the centre of Conakry.

Fode

Jayne and I sat in the back holding hands. Both of us full of anticipation but also with the unsure feeling of expectation. We chatted to Kemo during the drive and frustratingly as we neared the city centre we became stuck in the traffic melee again. We moved a car length at a time and I needed the lavatory to put a mundane top on it. Eventually we reached the hotel on the Rue du Commerce. It’s quite a grubby place and I thought at the time that I was glad I hadn’t book in there. Despite that it later served a purpose.
We all went into the lounge and I disappeared off to the lavatory, another stimulating experience.
When I returned Jayne and Kemo were sat on rattan chairs in the veranda. Jayne had a glass of wine and had sensibly ordered me a large beer in a pint glass. Clearly the Novotel wasn’t all bad !
Sitting down and taking a refreshing drink, I asked Kemo what time was the guy arriving. He laughed and said any time which really meant half way through the second pint. Jayne had paid a trip to the lady’s room and came back with a little more makeup and a strong odor of perfume.


Kemo noticed it but I pretended not to but she’d definitely stepped up a little. I remember thinking that it was somewhat like going over old ground but I also thought that it could be a waste of time to.
I was on the cusp of asking Kemo if he could check the man was actually going to turn up when his phone rang. There was a little chatter and then he got up and walked through back into the reception, out of the doors and disappeared don the stone stairs. Jayne asked me again who it was that was coming and I told her, a chaperon. We would need one if we we’re going out during the evening because Conakry could be unpredictable at night.
Jayne asked if it had anything to do with her and after a slight pause I said I thought it could do. Really casually she took a long sip of her wine and glanced toward the reception. I looked and Kemo came back up the steps. Behind him, another man was appearing but he didn’t seem to reach the top of the stairs.
From where I was sat t looked as though he was growing out of the ground because he just kept getting taller and bigger and taller and bigger.
My head went tight and my chest started to pound as the man came clearly into sight. Once through the reception doors it was clear that he was a huge bloke. Dressed in a tatty Nike Tee shirt and shorts, he towered above Kemo and every step towards us he got larger and wider.
Jayne stared expressionless as they approached but I noticed her eyes examining him up and down from his dusty flip flops to his smooth dark skinned face.
I knew then that at some point his black Guinean cock would be inside her
Kemo strolled up to us looking down at his mobile phone with a couldn’t care less approach then casually looking around and then back to his phone screen announced “ Fode (pronounce Fodey) will work for you…..15$ US” I was on the ball and asked them to take a seat then I waved for the waiter and invited drinks.
Kemo in his accented voice strung a sentence together stating that Fode wanted the 15$ up front. It felt uncomfortable but I was excited if I’m honest and the waiter arrived on cue with his silver tray to collect our glasses and take the order for fresh drinks. Jayne asked for another glass of wine and I ordered a beer. Fode, simply agreed with me when I pointed to the empty pint glass and Kemo politely declined, reiterating as politely as the language barrier could allow, that Fode wanted paying prior to his services.
It was plainly obvious that Kemo was negotiating his cut of the 15$ but considering what was presented I agreed and when the drinks arrived, I passed him enough to cover everything. Fode entered into conversation with him and Kemo stood up and walked away from the table settling the bill with the waiter.
Although I don’t know what was said, Fode got his 10$ the drinks were paid for and Kemo came out of it alright. Subsequently he introduced us to Fode properly. I shook his hand which was like a Gorillas then Jayne offered hers. He took it and the clutch was enough to stir me. Her soft vogue white hand held by his big black grasp, then the lingering hold by her, ending with the tracing of her fingers and painted red nails over the ridge of his thick forefinger as they broke. I knew instantly that a connection had been made, certainly in Jayne’s mind. I picked up my cold beer and about to take a drink, looked at her and said okay?
She replied as though in consideration.”…. Yes….”

In no time it was obvious that Fode spoke little English but he could manage French. That was an alluring feature I later discovered. Kemo interoperated although Jayne interacted and made a real effort to communicate with him.
I marvelled at him to be quite truthful. His physical size was astounding. I know that’s what I’d asked and stressed for but I hadn’t imagined we would find a man that outlandish so quickly and seemingly effortlessly. Later, we discovered that he’s 26 years old and has worked as a soldier, building worker and now as a casual labourer for the port authority.
The situation was calling for some form of arrangement that would give me the opportunity to steer things toward an intimacy between him and my wife. I could feel the static atmosphere between me and Jayne but I was mindful that timing and manner and place was everything.
I told Kemo that Jayne and I wanted to go out into Conakry that night to a restaurant and perhaps a local bar. There is a French dominated area mixed with some Lebanese places that are policed and largely westernized and they are within a comfortable drive of our hotel. Kemo suggested that we should enjoy that area and stay clear of the centre during the evening.

It was going through my mind, how do I split Kemo up from Jayne, Fode and me. It was clear that Kemo had adopted himself as our driver and the prospect of free food and drinks would be a difficult bonus to give up easily, certainly without me being rude to him. What’s more I needed him in lieu of finding another driver and local knowledge. The solution was 10$
I asked if Fode could meet us later that evening and Kemo translated. I suggested that Kemo could collect him on the way and that we would like to visit a sea front restaurant later about 8.00. I got up to go through to the un manned bar relying on him to follow which fortunately he did. The waiter dashed in to help and I ordered another round of drinks then I told Kemo passing him a 10$ note, that he did not have to stay with us later, simply collect and drop us off as tonight we didn’t have any plans and we wished to do as we pleased. I added that Fode could arrange a taxi later on in the evening but he could collect us at the hotel the following morning about 11.00. Without fuss he accepted the cash and obligingly agreed.
As I walked back to the veranda Jayne was sat crossed legged with almost her full thigh purposely on show for Fode. Her sandal was dangling from her toes and she was swinging it playfully. She was also playing with her almost empty glass and I could see she was feeling reasonably relaxed with the situation. The next glass of wine was accepted with a wry smile and a mouthed “thank you”. It was my intention to entice him and Fode appeared overwhelmingly grateful for the second free drink. Actually, I had the feeling that he was already quite happy to escort us and earlier at the mention of visiting a restaurant he’d nodded in agreement with Kemo.
With a deep drink of the cold Heineken I lent forward to Jayne and mumbled
“will you” she turned away and answered flippantly…. “if he will”.
Almost immediately my loins tightened and I felt so excited yet hugely relived. It had been almost stressful wondering if we would have the opportunity to indulge. I remember thinking that he must find Jayne appealing as he’d been taking long looks at her. Regardless I’d made up my mind I was going to ask her to make sure he got the right idea early on.
After a little more conversation with Kemo assisting in the translation, we found out that he was engaged to a girl named Florence and that he lived close to the Novotel Ghi, the hotel we were in at the moment.


He worked on the dock for the port authority most days but it was dependant on shipping so he would do anything in his spare time. During the conversation I noticed Jayne scrutinizing him further. As well as been a mammoth of a man he was quite handsome and bearing in mind he is 19 years her junior, she was being attracted to him more and more as the time went by, not to mention that the wine was dulling any inhibitions anyway.
Fode was laughing in an almost high pitch squeal and speaking in accented English and French which was like a new language but we could make out the jist of what he was saying.
Eventually after finishing the drinks I asked Kemo to take us back to our hotel and we confirmed that he would later drop us at the coast and then collect Fode.
We all stood up with me offering my hand to help Jayne. Simultaneously, Fode also offered his hand and she took both to help her out of the chair. That was the first comparison of his size to hers.
I remember it distinctly, Jayne’s face was about level with his chest and he was nearly twice as wide there.
She smiled and looked at me as he turned to allow her past and I gestured for her to go first. At the bottom of the stone steps we waited for Kemo to come with the car then quite un prompted Jayne said goodbye to Fode and poised her cheek. He hesitated for a brief second then stooped to peck her politely but as he did she calmly stroked his forearm down and along his hand, holding onto his fingers, again lingering just long enough to leave a subliminal meaning. I saw it as though in slow motion and it made my chest pound with anticipation.
In the car we set off and I asked her if she thought he’d got the message. She answered that “he will later” then she gave me a kiss on the cheek. The drive back wasn’t as difficult as I’d thought as the traffic was lighter but all the way I had a solid erection which had to be disguised by my shirt as I exited the car. We quickly waved off Kemo and I marched Jayne back to the room, got her through the door and into the bedroom. Within moments I had her on the bed and was eating her wet pussy. No shower or finesse, just raw lust. The sex was fantastic but embarrassingly short although she enjoyed it, easily reaching her own climax as I cross examined her about the prospect of her having intercourse with Fode.
It had been quite a cloudy but a hot day in more than one way and after making love we both showered naked outside, a very enjoyable and sensual experience in the secluded privacy. Even though I’d satisfied my lust I couldn’t help asking her how she intended to promote herself to Fode or any other men she fancied. She actually finds it very irritating and prefers to surprise me but I often can’t resist knowing. It’s like a c***d at Christmas, desperate to know what’s coming but the surprise is always better. I asked her if she would wear stockings for him and for her to wear serious makeup. She put up with it until I got into the sex, asking her if she would let him ejaculate in her was the final straw. She didn’t get angry but she sobered me by saying that I was spoiling the mood and reminded me of one of my favourite sayings “the moments gone”
I came to my senses and knew to back off. The atmosphere preserved, I washed her gently with a few gentle kisses thrown in as compensation.
The shower was invigorating and cooling. We dried and both felt fresh. I walked naked back into the lounge and got a beer from the fridge.

Jayne declined and wrapped in a towel she went into the bedroom to change for the evening. She actually lay on the bed for about forty minutes before routing through the luggage bag for some things. By this time I felt cooler, not cold, but enough to put on some clothes. I tried to avoid her noticing that I was checking out her stuff as she arranged it. Once I’d put my shorts on and about to fasten my shirt I was shooed out of the bedroom and told to go finish my drink in the lounge. I remember the clunk of the bedroom door and the return of that immensely thrilling sensation.
I had two beers and started to watch the clock. It was still cloudy and the light was just beginning to fade, what’s more I’d asked Kemo to collect us at eight O’clock and we had only twenty minutes. I walked out onto the patio to retrieve my sandals then returned to the lounge picking up my watch and wallet. I’d spent very little money considering. Drinks are extremely cheap and food is very reasonable. It had been the tips that had cost the most up to then.
At fifteen minutes to eight I was getting anxious. Ridiculous really, there was no rush, we were on holiday but the anticipation was suffocating me.
I heard the click and sc**** of heels on the tiled floor and any man will understand that sound. It almost compels men to investigate it
A few seconds later the door opened and Jayne stepped through into the lounge and immediately after seeing her, I had no doubt whatsoever that Fode would want to fuck her.
I’d had a little rummage in her packing at home but I’d not seen her dress. It was perfect for the location I thought. It was bold leopard patterned pencil dress. It was plunging, low cut and short. It was, is, inevitably tight and it fitted all of her curves. The neck was just off the shoulder with short sleeves and she was wearing a narrow black choker that drew my attention immediately because it has the word “BITCH” in small silver inlay embossed in it. I’d bought her it months ago from Pulse and cocktails but this was the first time she’d worn it. She also wore huge dangling earrings in her ears and her hair was neatly pinned up to show them off. I loved her makeup; it was precise and flawless with attention to everything. Her eyes were accentuated with subtle colour and rimmed with thick black mascara that made them stand out but her lipstick made the most impact. It gave her lips a gloss bright red colour in the room light. She reminded me of the women you see working behind the makeup counters in department stores. It looked impeccable. As if that wasn’t enough I could see she was wearing nylon on her legs and I stupidly question in my mind for a split second if they were stockings or not. Leaning slightly over to my left I looked to make sure and satisfy myself that the glimpse of a discoloured band just below the hem of her dress was in fact a welt. It was confirmed when I scrutinized her stiletto sandals and saw the dark seam running up her calf.
I told her she looked gorgeous but the words came out of my mouth as though I was out of breath and I was shaking like a leaf to boot.
Jayne knew she looked good and even admits it today. She’s also openly said that she had every intention of pulling Fode and if it wouldn’t work, that she would pull somebody else. It was just the mood she was in that night. The contents of her purse corroborated her full intentions. She insinuated that I would like what she had in it which prompted me to ask her “what’s in your purse gorgeous” She said I could take a look and opened it for me, then went through the contents confidently and quite happily naming them.

Lipstick, mascara, eye liner, perfume, Cigarettes (More 120’s) lighter, Small tube of Vaseline, and oh…1..2..3..4..5 condoms.
I couldn’t help it and I just about jumped on her but after embracing and feeling her up she resisted pushing me off saying that she’d done her mouth and that I’d get us both sweaty. She did say I could have my fun later, adding after a slight pause, unless somebody else is having it.
It was comfortable in the room with the air conditioning running but that made it feel quite warm once outside on the patio. It was getting darker still and the crickets were noisy. I could also hear the sea and the odd car horn now and then.
Jayne walked up to me and put her arm in mine and reminded me that Kemo would be here soon. She was very casual about it and just stood with me as I took in the view over the boundary wall and down the shallow hill towards the sparsely lit road and the lights of Conakry city.
Kemo arrived moments later. We watched his car headlights bumbling along the rough road then turn out of sight towards the hotel gates.
We could walk easily around the outside of the apartment rooms, past the pool and avoid going through the lobby and reception.
I supported Jayne as she walked carefully in her stilettos over a short patch of rough ground but once on the paving she was fine. Kemo was out of the car and up the steps about to go in through the entrance when I called him and before he really got a good look at Jayne I’d opened the car door for her. She climbed in pulling down the hem of her dress as women do when they think too much is being shown. Then I went around and got in the other side next to her. Kemo turned the car around and drove us back down the bumpy hotel access road and thankfully onto the spinal highway. I’d asked that he take us to a seafront restaurant called Le Cidre. It was recommended in the hotel guide and was located on a large open deck construction on the beach. Across the sea front road is a nightclub called Bembeys and the guide claimed that it was the place to party until dawn !
It wasn’t a long drive to get to the restaurant and pulling up at the road side I noticed that it was far more populated than I’d expected. The restaurant had wooden steps up to the open wooden deck and was fence off all the way around. Groups of locals were dotted about and we discovered that they were there petitioning for money, fee drinks and just hanging out. The steps were guarded by two uniformed men who instantly ushered away a group of bumster when I got out of the car. Kemo was babbling in Creole at them and a little exchange took place. It was broken up by one of the guards who opened the door for Jayne. I looked to see his eyes on stalks as she manoeuvred herself out of the car without giving too much away. It was honestly irrelevant though because as soon as she stood up and walked around to me a few in the groups begin whistling and jabbering. I took her hand and helped her onto the steps then asked Kemo to go collect Fode, bring him here and tell the guards that he was our guest. I saw him getting a good disbelieving eyeful of her too and to be truthful, it made me laugh out loud.
The sea front restaurant

Once up the steps and onto the deck it was more sedate with plenty of tables. The eating area was subtly lit and we found a table with comfortable room. It was fantastic in reality. There were others eating and drinking at tables but it wasn’t overcrowded and on top of us. The majority were European or Middle Eastern people.
A few had black friends with them and there were also a few mixed race couples, the majority of those being Lebanese looking men with beautiful western looking black girls. Jayne certainly didn’t look out of place as most of the women wore modern western clothes. It did remind me of the poverty gap, more so when we saw BMW’s, Mercs and a Range Rover sport parked on the roadside as two young men pushed a hand cart loaded with old tyres past.
A waiter arrived and we ordered drinks in a civilized manner, again in contrast to the local people who had little in the way of modern luxuries. Regardless, I was thirsty and when he brought my glass of larger, I quaffed it and requested another before he left the table.
I took the liberty and ordered two, one on behalf of Fode who I assumed would need a drink once he took a look at what Jayne was offering him.
She sat resisting the temptation to cross her legs as her hem would have ridden up revealing her stocking top. I was enjoying it and at that moment it hadn’t been noticed by others in the restaurant. I asked her if she was going to let Fode see her stocking tops and I inched around on my chair so that when he arrived he would be afforded a reasonably private view. Her skirt Just, and I do mean just covered that darkening band as she sat knees together.
The slightest lifting rode the material past in a most alluring and fascinating manner. I was into my second drink when Jayne told me she thought Kemo was back with the car so I turned to look. He was and Fode got out. He was much bigger than the guard who initially addressed him quite bravely I thought but he must have realized that this was the guest Kemo had explained was joining us. They let him through and I waved with a modest rising of my hand, allowing him to see us. I turned to Jayne with the intention of saying something to prompt her but she was ahead of me. She was in her purse and had taken out one of her brown 120 cigarettes. Jayne only smoked Mores and they added hugely to the ambience and despite being an avid anti smoker especially in pubs and restaurants, I would be a gross liar if I said I wasn’t transfixed as she placed the cigarette to her lips and lit it.
As Fode Approached us her timing was nothing short of perfect. I watched him come to a halt at the table and experience a double take !
The tip of Jayne’s cigarette glowed deep orange in the half light and as she removed it from her lips exhaling the blue smoke into the air in a slow conscious manner, she simply crossed her legs and smiled.
There was an obvious awkward silence as he stood gawping at her but I intervened, picking up his beer and passing him it. I invited him to sit down and went straight into a conversation about food. Fode was polite and tried to follow the conversation but he kept turning to look at Jayne who continued to stare directly at him with that sultry smile of hers.





She took another precise and deliberate puff of her cigarette, turned her head to one side to expel the smoke then said “I’m starving Fode, what do you want to eat”
If my glass had been full I would have spilled my drink because I was shaking so much with excitement. I imagined him saying “your white married cunt” and the thought conjured a plethora of scenarios in my head. I found it difficult to talk and it was a struggle to stimulate a conversation at that point. I’d also lost my appetite although I had been quite hungry earlier. The desire and craving to see Fode taking Jayne apart had ruined me but she came to my rescue and said that after dinner she wanted him to take us to that club over there, pointing with the two fingers holding her cigarette.
He looked politely then agreed and I wondered at that point if he’d got the message. The waiter returned but she didn’t flinch and sat with stocking tops on show finishing the More while he took the order. She had melon, I conveniently, although I did eat and enjoy it, ordered an omelette and Fode ordered a specialty version of a regional food called shwarma
During the meal we talked to Fode and I asked him about his life in Guinea.
What he usually did during the evening. He managed to explain to us that he didn’t often eat like this as it was too expensive and that he was very grateful to us for the invitation. I had to reassure him that we didn’t expect him to pay. He was also enthusiastic about visiting the club Bembeys He had been there before and told us that it was a place for the “Babes” meaning the attractive local women. He also explained, not that he needed to, that the local girls would go to hopefully meet influential, rich men and if they were lucky, taken out of the routine poverty and into a better life. This was apparent as you will see older men in Conakry, particularly the Lebanese with the most stunning local girls and practically how could they ever afford the finery they were wearing (and driving) without that financial bargaining

After the meal we sat still talking. I could almost sense the potency and in anticipation I explained to Fode as thoroughly as I could that I wasn’t much of a dancer but Jayne loved dancing. In fact I made a joke of it, that I wanted him to tire her out. He was enthused and very animated saying in his accented voice “I like to dance” then he burst into laughter. By now also I’d noticed a few of the other diners stealing the odd look at our little “ménage a trios”. Certainly Fode’s size was noticeable but coupled with Jayne’s appearance, I envisaged that more than a few had put two and two together and at the very least surmised that the massive black Guinean would be “fucking the arse off” the white woman at some point during the night.
The prospect was thrilling and I was even more eager to quench the desire to see Jayne in some form of carnal debauchery with this huge black Conakrian. The more blatant her behaviour the better and as we stood to leave I asked her if she was going to make it totally obvious to Fode that a fuck was certain. She gave me a very disdainful look and said “isn’t it yet” then walked on in front of me slipping her arm into Fode’s. We went down the steps and past the two guards that both took exaggerated looks at Jayne and Fode. She turned and held out her hand which I took and all three of us walked across the tarmac road toward the club. The façade was totally illuminated with red, blue and green neon. “Bembeys” stood above the door and loud music was being played and once again as we approached, a small boundary wall and security greeted us.




One or two locals attempted to pester but they were shooed away. Fode was allowed in because Jayne was on his arm and I wasn’t troubled at all. A guard, a big bloke but not as big as Fode stopped him and Jayne and I walked up asking what the problem was. There wasn’t one, but later we found out that Fode and the guard knew each other from the military subscription and that was a fortunate reunion for us as we were to discover latter in the week.
The Guards name we found out later was David and he gave Jayne a good looking over whilst talking to Fode. God knows what they were saying but as we moved on to the open entrance Fode put his hand on Jayne’s lower back gently guiding her forward in an almost possessive manner. In essence, he was showing off to David and the others watching, demonstrating that the white foxy female was with him. It seemed I’d been forgotten. Jayne didn’t forget though and held out her hand for me. I took it and said to her that Fode was loving the sittuation and then I asked her to give them all a wiggle.
Jayne somehow began to walk with such a slow and pronounced swing of her hips. It was almost like she was walking to a beat with each click of her heels on the floor her hips swung in the most appealing manner and in time with her shoulders. At the entrance she turned and laughed. Looking back around Fode was behind sharing a similar expression as several voyeuristic others who were enjoying the show.
I actually said to her “that was fucking fantastic” She smiled smoothing down the hem of her dress.

Bembeys

Once inside Bembeys, we were taken to a table and seated. It was conveniently close to the dance floor where several mixed race girls were dancing to modern chart music. I ordered drinks and sat comfortably in the breeze of the air conditioning. It hadn’t been uncomfortably hot because of the clouds and sporadic rain but it certainly warmed up a little later.
Jayne sat between me and Fode around a circular table and I decided to just move slightly around to leave her ever so slightly secluded with him. Jayne’s tall vodka and lime arrived and she rested her hand on Fode’s shoulder, showing off her cleavage as she leant forward to take it from the waiter. She sat back drinking it and looking at me to see what reaction it had and although I was enthralled I only managed a week smile and a drink of the cold beer. Fode began talking to Jayne and she was engrossed in interpreting what he was saying. I couldn’t hear because of the music but they were getting on just as I’d wanted. Bembeys was a lively place and after 10.00 it really came alive. Some of the olive skinned Middle Eastern girls wouldn’t have been out of place in the night clubs of York or Leeds, wearing European clothes and fashions. A very attractive and shapely black girl was dancing with her friends in a pair of tight shorts, a bra and white lace top stockings and Jayne caught me admiring her and she shook the ice in her empty glass asking me to get her another drink. I laughed and waived to the obliging staff that came immediately to the table.
We’d had maybe two more rounds and Jayne was clearly very excited.






I knew she was subversively passing signals to Fode because of her “touchy feely” manner with him. Touching his muscular forearms and laughing with him and making little effort to completely cover her nylon tops or avert his view down her cleavage. The penultimate action was when she excused herself for the bathroom. She squeezed past him with her bum so close to him and strutted away. I watched him absorbing her walk and eyeing the heels and seams as she turned the corner toward the bathrooms. Although I’d had a few drinks, I wasn’t drunk but I decided to speed things up a little. My impatience has always been my downfall and I remember thinking that I needed to be subtle. I had to say it twice to Fode that I wanted him to dance with Jayne. He didn’t understand the first time but he eventually understood and was more than amiable.
When she came back I immediately noticed that she’d re touched her makeup and the aroma of her fresh perfume wafted over to me. I wondered if Fode was going to ask her dance but he just politely moved to let her sit down.
This irritated me and I was about to say something to Jayne to try and stimulate some more interaction but a familiar sound track overlaid the music and it was a favourite of hers. She said quite animated that she loved this song and she told Fode that she wanted to dance.
This track and the performance Jayne gave is always going to be a favourite now.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0n3OepDn5GU

The driving bass line stirred her into action and Jayne stood up grabbing him by his thick wrist and hauling him out of the chair. He allowed her to lead him and she strutted and tottered with the rhythm on the toes of her stilettos and swinging her hips toward the dance floor, turning and clapping her hands together to begin the dance.
The base was thumping in a “Boom boom boom” rhythm and she was stomping in perfect time with her arms and shoulders moving in a weaving motion. As Fode joined her she widened her arms and began to shimmy, rolling her shoulders towards and away from him in time to the music.
She really let go and it was obvious to see that she was really enjoying herself. Jayne looked superbly confident as she stepped in unison with Fode and gradually her dress began to ride up her thighs giving at first a little glimpse, then a clear view of her stocking welts, stopping at the suspenders. She turned in time with the music and pushed her bum into Fode’s crotch while they danced and he embraced her, one arm over her shoulder and across her body, the other around her waist. Then they gyrated together and I watched hypnotically as the loud mesmerizing beat thudded through me.
All around it was a similar scene with couples dancing and the only real curiousness was a black man dancing with a white woman.
A strobe light began to flash and their dance became broken into a jerky, almost robotic movement which made it even more enthralling.
Fode began making grinding motions against her and Jayne was looking over her shoulder and back at him, observing his actions with an engrossed look on her face. Then she turned to face him and widened her legs in a shallow squat and began to wind her body to the music against him, rubbing herself up his broad thigh, all the time moving her arms and turning her face from left and right to the music.




Others around them, both men and girls also danced in a similar enthusiastic way and within the writhing group mêlée, her exhibitionist performance didn’t seem too much that out of the ordinary.
It was mesmerising but all too soon the music finished, another track faded over the song and she turned to Fode and standing on her tip toes gave him a little kiss, this time closer to the mouth, almost on his lips. He grinned and clapped as Jayne made her way back to the table, hips still swinging. I passed her the drink and said that I thought Fode was pulled but she didn’t reply with words. There was a hint of a raised eyebrow and that look of hers as she stares into a glass before taking a long drink.
He came up behind her and put a hand on her waist as she drank. She turned to speak to him at the same pulling down her hem and covering her nylon tops again. She said again she liked that song and I told her that I hoped her dancing routine wasn’t finished. At that point I was very keen to encourage a move back to the hotel and again I had to restrain myself from pestering her. It was obvious that she was enjoying herself and the frivolous behaviour.
She wanted the chance to be completely uninhibited and to saver it so I put up with the apprehension and let her make the most of the moment.
Around midnight I began to feel agitated, weary and a little woozy with the drink. Jayne was in the zone without a doubt and had danced with Fode several more times and also with a group of young energetic black men and girls to various songs old and new. Although I was still eager to devise a physical climax to our evening, the whole show was unbelievably alluring and she was so energetic with a definite change in her character to say the least. I was exhausted with the constant thrills and exhilaration of watching her. Now, I was emotionally charged and desperately wanted to see her with Fode in a totally debauched fucking session. I’d also been trying to pluck up the courage to directly ask her if she was going to take it further with him and when she next returned to the table I got her attention and asked her quietly but directly if she was going to go through with it. I asked her curtly “are you going to get him back to the room what Jayne????”
I could see the immediate conceit in her expression and without answering me she reached for her purse, taking out the Mores and removing one slowly from the pack. She still didn’t answer but simply looked at me almost pokerfaced and this was a new side of her I’ve not seen ever before in all our marriage. She slowly passed Fode the lighter and as I waited for some form of a response, a familiar and now very significant song began playing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RgbKKZWZuQo

The club version had a much longer intro but as the beat began and the tune suddenly became familiar, Jayne placed the slender brown More 120 to her lips and waited for Fode to light her cigarette. Then just as the tune was getting going she took a long slow pull on her More. She tilted her head exhaling the menthol haze in a long stream in a satisfying way and still looking at me with a degree of scrutiny she began to slowly sway her hips and shoulders in a slow side motion in a mesmerising way to the music before leaning forward and saying, “Don’t forget it was you who wanted this” then she turned, taking Fode by his huge hand and slowly lead him back to the dance floor.





She walked very sexily in the heels and still leisurely swinging her hips in the most delectable and tantalising way to the rhythm of the music.
The music was loud and the rhythmic beat piercing and once they reached a free space on the dance floor, about fifteen feet away from me, Jayne turned and raised her right hand and placed it high on Fode’s shoulder then took another long relaxed pull from her cigarette. As the singing started and with her hand still on his shoulder, she began to dance with an enticing and repetitive swaying movement deliberately for him. Even more thrilling as she
cavorted and immersed herself in the song, the lyrics seamed unbelievably to be written solely about him and the words of the song totally complimented the circumstances with Fode’s massive six and a half foot physique towering over her. Jayne weaved to the music while still looking at me as the lyrics perfectly described the scene for her, “ Daddy I’ve fallen for a monster, and then Jayne’s pouting and teasing facial expression while mouthing the words “He’s big and he’s bad” I love him like mad” while she swayed and rocked her hips in time, intentionally exploiting the pulsing beat. She moved her hips and shoulders continually in an enthralling swinging motion with an explicit and alternating weave to the tempo as she danced. Jayne swung her hips teasingly close to him and pushed her chest out presenting her cleavage. It was obviously directed solely at him and what’s more he clearly was enjoying it. As the chorus began I listened to the lyrics and wondered if she would later consider him to be the “best she’d ever had”. Glancing around curiously, I noticed other men in the club enviously watching and scrutinising her from head to toe, particularly as the hem of her dress had again risen, giving a further heart racing glimpse of the darkened two tone welts of her stockings. Then the strobe lights began flashing again which stuttered and enhanced the way she moved, rendering a slow motion effect as she danced. Her pose holding the long cigarette as she moved with the rhythm was equally enthralling



and in an almost choreographed fashion during an eventual lull in the tune, she moved her hand from his shoulder and around his thick neck. In her other hand she purposely held the cigarette away from her body as she began to grind herself against him.
He responded mirroring her movement and my heart pounded in my chest as she instigated the close coupling. Then as the driving rhythm continued he pulled her hard against him, towering over her, holding her by the hips while she swayed and rotated in unison with him. I felt a welcome stream of cool air as the air conditioning seeped around the club and I took a drink, all the while watching and enjoying her performance.
About a third of the way through the song, Jayne manoeuvred Fode around so that she could look past him and directly at me as they danced. I could see other black men in the club closely watching her and a few in groups were obviously discussing her and making no attempt to disguise their pointing and interest in how she was behaving with Fode.
The anticipation was overwhelming and her teasing neutral expression engrossed me. She heightened the innuendo by casually looking up into Fode’s eyes with an appealing and sultry pout, then back to me without changing the expression and occasionally smoking the long More 120 seductively with a deliberate “what the fuck do you think about this” attitude. It was everything I wanted to see.

She stepped to the music and as the chorus began again she began stroking the back of Fode’s head with her finger nails then purposely she pulled his head down closer to hers.
Fode impulsively nuzzled his face into her neck and Jayne had a look of intense satisfaction as her head tilted back and to one side allowing it.
Their bodies were writhing closely and he pulled her hard tight him as they both swayed with the music. I watched as Fode’s left hand slide slowly off her hip and down the back of her leg where he began teasing at the hem of her dress, pulling and raising it past her stocking tops in full view of those watching. Then the strobe lights stopped for a few moments and I could clearly see him caressing and exploring the taught strap of her suspender then the soft white flesh of her upper thigh along her stocking welts and finally squeezing her pale white bum with his huge black hand.
Meanwhile Jayne, still staring at me with a blasé expression, raised her cigarette to her lips. The tip glowed orange for a few seconds as she pulled hard on it then she exhaled a plume of hazy smoke into the air. She simply maintained her eye contact with me, apparently unconcerned and undaunted that I was watching everything as Fode groped and publicly m*****ed her with his huge black hands.
I was mesmerised, watching expectantly and she knew it. Then with absolute perfect timing she turned her face and said something very explicit into Fode’s ear.
He jerked his head up looking at her with a surprised expression then stooped again so that Jayne could repeat what ever she’d said. The music was loud and he must have a asked her a third time to repeat it and this time she pointed to me and repeated it again. Fode looked over to me with alertness, and then looking into his eyes and with a dead pan serious expression, she slowly nodded and mouthed again whatever she was saying to him.
I saw the look of confusion changing and a broad smile broke out across his face. Clearly what Jayne had said had animated him and he began to get more even familiar with his hands.


First stroking her face and then his hands ran over her shoulders and returned to her hips and bottom. As the song was finishing they kissed for the first time. It wasn’t terribly extreme, just three soft pecks full on the lips. The first being exploratory and he clearly wanted more, the second just lingering and definitely exploiting the tacky feel of her lipstick and the third kiss endured for a few seconds, simply confirming the mutual desire for a more physical communion. Fode set off for the exit leaving her on the dance floor and Jayne returned to me at the table pulling her dress down over her nylons as she walked.
I told her that what I’d just watched her doing was amazing, in fact beyond belief and then asked where he’d gone and she explained to get a taxi.
I also asked Jayne what she’d said to him and she took a final puff on the half finished cigarette then dropped it to the floor crushing it with her shoe.
She leant forward smiling and said pronouncing the words quite skilfully in French, “Aimeriez-vous fuck un nigga bébé de moi”
My French is non existent although even through the haze of heat and alcohol I knew it was something significantly poignant to the situation and I asked her again what she had said and what it meant. Then she leant over again and with a sarcastic drawl repeating the phrase slowly and clearly with a perfect accent. “Aimeriez-vous fuck un nigga bébé de moi”

It was obvious she’d practiced it a few times. She turned about to walk to the exit and from her purse she pulled out a small note neatly folded into a square. As we walked close together she passed it to me nonchalantly without looking at me then with her high heels clicking she went off in front.
As we went through the entrance doors the noise diminished and the lighting was better so I opened the note and read the carefully prepared sentence.
I pronounced the words in my head then read the translation written in Jayne’s handwriting
“I want you to fuck a nigger baby into me…..”
The warm night air hit me but not as hard as the realisation of what she’d said to Fode. Jayne had continued down the steps without me as I read the translation over and over. When I looked up David the guard was at the gate opening it for Jayne. On the roadside was a taxi and Fode was leaning out of the passenger window beckoning us with his hand. As I walked past David he gave me a really happy smile saying “thank you Sir”. Jayne slipped into the rear eat of the car and I dashed around to join her.
I heard Fode tell the driver “Hotel Cameyenne”
I took hold of her hand and tried as best as I could to stay composed but found myself whispering to her that she was amazing and that I desperately wanted her to tease me with more of the same. I told her it was the most exhilarating feeling I had ever felt.
The drive back was unbearable, probably for everyone except the driver. Jayne was massaging me through my shorts and my prick was aching with anticipation. I realised that I needed to collect myself and I concentrated to control my pounding heart. Once the endurance of the bouncing road was over we stopped inside the hotel gates and we all got out. The driver wanted 10$ and I didn’t argue, I just gave him a note and got out. It was quiet so we took the chance to dash through the reception but we were intercepted by the night clerk who scrutinised Jayne then Fode and then realised I was with them too.


He said something to Fode who answered him but with another $10 note he waved us on our way with a nod and a thank you.
We left the reception and went through the rear into the moonlit courtyard and just as we reached a comfortable quiet distance on the narrow path away from the complex Jayne stopped us telling Fode to hold on. Then turning to me she glared with a very serious expression and softly asked,
“Is this what you want to see?”
Still looking at me, she gently placed her hand on Fode’s inner thigh squeezing him then slowly traced it up to his crotch pushing her open palm hard into his bulge. She sighed and said “He’s definitely heavy”
Fode looked down at her and instantly his big hand went hard clamped against her mound and with no regard for me he instantly slid his cupped palm under the hem of her dress and began to roughly maul between her legs and at her sex through her panties. Jayne gasped and raised her free arm embracing his thick neck pulling him down and they entered into a brazen and passionate French kiss. Fode began rubbing his thick middle finger back and forth on her slit and she began to ride it with only the thin lace gusset between his skin and her sex. Jayne rubbed her palm deliberately up and down against his cock but then teasingly, she broke away from him to look back at me for a reaction.

I stood silently watching in the night heat with my mouth open while Jayne let Fode grope her for a few more seconds then she abruptly pulled away smoothing down her dress, insisting to him that he had to wait until we got to the room. Then she turned and began to walk off towards the apartment beckoning me to catch up and we walked in a line, Fode on her left with Jayne’s arm tucked into his and her holding hands with me on the right.
In a few minutes we reached the pool area and our apartment room and after taking a couple of goes to swipe the security card, the lock opened and we all went in. Inside the apartment it was dark and thankfully very cool as we’d left the fans and AC on.
I locked the sliding door behind us and after drawing the vertical blind entered and walked through into the lounge to turn on the lights.
Jayne’s heels clicked loudly on the floor as she went to th