“Jean-Pierre is one of my teaching assistants…from Niger. He’s a whiz at African art and today our schedules are finally free enough to talk a little. Hope you don’t mind,” said Lindy.
“Not at all,” I mumbled, lighting the hash pipe and holding it toward Jean-Pierre. He declined, yet rose to refill his wineglass, which Lindy replenished. Before he had a chance to turn, she grabbed his free hand and from her sitting position looked up at him. He didn’t seem to understand and appeared embarrassed. He sipped from his glass and tried to disengage, only to be stopped again by Lindy, this time with her other hand on his crotch. He looked down at her again, unable to believe her forwardness, then shot a quick glance at me, just as the young blonde girl lowered the zipper on his pants.
She said to me in English. “You hurt me deeply, Nick. Now I’m gonna pay you back.” And with that she pulled his impressive cock free of his fly and took the wineglass from his hand, setting it on a side table. Within seconds she’d rolled back his foreskin and wrapped her lovely pink lips around his hardening member, establishing a slow, easy rhythm as she gradually consumed more and more of him. Jean-Pierre submitted easily to the wet confines of Lindy’s heated mouth, raising his face skyward and issuing a deep whine as the girl sped her movements. Soon one of her hands was twisting around his shaft in a corkscrew motion, masturbating his full length while, alternately, she took him past her epiglottis and into her throat. I looked at her other hand, and it was busy between her creamy thighs, diddling herself with ever-more-rapid movements.
Content with my voyeuristic role, I smoked more hash and sipped wine…enough so that I was truly blitzed by the time Lindy unbuckled Jean-Pierre’s pants and they’d fallen to the floor. In seconds she’d stripped herself naked and pushed the man into a seated position in the chair in which he’d been sitting. She’d lost a good bit of her Summer tan, and now looked completely ivory…delectable as ever. As she straddled his legs and reached between her thighs to seat his black cudgel at the entrance to her pink, rose-like pussy, she looked over her shoulder at me as if to check on the state of what she hoped would be my suffering.
I just grinned and said, “You’re beautiful!” no doubt causing her some degree of angry confusion. After all, my response was supposed to be that of a jealous lover.
“Wrong thing to say, Nicky. Watch this!” she challenged, as she slid slowly down Jean-Pierre’s pole, gasping while taking all of him. “Ohh-o-o-o, Gawd,” she moaned as her hips began a rapidly-accelerating tattoo against the crotch of her African instructor. She grabbed the back of the chair on either side of his head for leverage, prompting him to try and kiss her, but she turned her head aside, muttering, “Non!” apparently intent only on fucking him. Then she turned her attention again to me. “See how I’m lovin’ that big black dick, Nicky. You could be havin’ me just like that – right now – if you’d left my mom alone!”