30-06-2019, 03:43 PM
The guests gasped. He was a tall, hugely built, handsome black man. And he was naked. He was like a Nubian slave or an Assyrian bas-relief. His face was lean and taut with sharp, aquiline features -- a strong, straight nose, a wide, surprisingly slim-lipped mouth, large dark eyes, thick, short curly hair.
His shoulders were broad and strong, padded with muscle. His neck was thick and bullish. His chest was heavily cleaved and swept in a wide W from armpit to armpit. His dark nipples were small and taut and pulled wide and low. The belly was rock-hard, padded with hard rectangles of muscle. His biceps and thighs bulged with strength and his forearms were thick and heavy, corded with muscle.
His torso was a savagely slashed V from shoulder to narrow waist and high hips. His buttocks were taut and small. His back curved inward to the spine because of the muscle on either side and then swept in and down to the swell of his buttocks.
His torso was entirely hairless; even the armpits were shorn. His dark, ebony skin glistened and gleamed, freshly oiled. He strolled up with the slow, feline walk that muscular people have and paused at the head of the steps, looking impassively at the guests.
He wore a black leather codpiece. A black leather strap girdled his hips and, attached to it, was a long, thick black leather sheath that covered the immensity of his penis and balls. His cock was huge. Limp, it hung at least eight inches long and was correspondingly thick. Sayali smiled at him.
"Gentlemen, meet my lover for the evening. Joe is Nigerian. He is a student at our university and works as a gigolo to pay his tuition. As he is paid to fuck me, he will take requests. If you would like him to do something in particular to me, please ask. He will try and oblige. Now, Jim, I think we're set. Could you arrange things for me please?"
Silently, the man nodded and retreated into the shadows. He emerged a minute later, hoisting a huge wooden device under his arm. He carried it lightly, effortlessly and his muscles rippled smoothly as he bore it down to the well.
Making place in the center of the room, he set it up quickly and silently. It was a folding divan, a long, wide, low wooden bench. He brought a thick mattress and unfolded it on the bench and then covered it with a colourful spread in a traditional tribal print.
Two fat bolsters at either end completed it. He stepped back. Sayali nodded in satisfaction. He went back up the stairs and moved to a corner. He stood in silence, his arms crossed, his legs spread. His cock dangled hugely, and his massive pectorals bunched between his equally awesome biceps.
Sayali smiled and turned to her audience. Slowly, she dropped the *pallu* of her *sari* and began to unravel her garment. There was complete, awed silence. She unwrapped it till it was held only by the last pleat. They did not know that she was naked beneath; one final tug and her body would be revealed.
Slowly, she unbuttoned her blouse. Her breasts were large and full and the men stared, transfixed at her deep cleavage. They could see the hard points of her long nipples. With tantalizingly slow movements, she caressed her breasts through the blouse, lifting them in her hands, squeezing them, crushing them together.
Then her blouse was undone and she opened it fully and tugged at the final pleat of her *sari*. Her clothes rustled to the floor and she was naked. There was a sharp intake of her breath. She smiled, lovely in her nakedness.
The gold girdle was eroticism itself; it dipped into the crack of her cunt-lips and vanished between her thighs and ran between her buttocks. Naked, she caressed herself, sensuously, stroking her belly, her thighs, her breasts, cupping her crotch.
"I love being fucked," she murmured, her voice husky and soft. "There's nothing better than having a big cock in my cunt ... the ultimate pleasure ..."
Kneeling on the divan, she lifted her breasts, her legs spread and, looking at her guests, ran her tongue-tip slowly over her upper lip in an utterly lascivious gesture. Her nipples stiffened and her nostrils flared with excitement.
"And then, when I don't have a lover, I have to satisfy myself ..." she murmured. Slowly, she eased herself onto her back and began to lift her knees, spreading her legs. "So I masturbate ... as a young girl, I used anything I could ... a banana ... a cucumber ... anything ... now my toys are more satisfying."
As if on cue, the black man moved, like a statue coming to life. He walked down to the divan and handed her something. Then he stepped back and stood in the living area, taking up his position as before, an erotic bas-relief. Sayali brandished two dildoes.
Each was eight inches long, nearly two inches thick and shaped very like a real penis. One had a surface that was ribbed and ridged. Her knees rose and her legs spread and now her cunt was open to her guests' view.
They could see the soft flesh of her cunt, the gold strand glittering in her crack. Some of them began masturbating in excitement. On the divan, Sayali groaned and licked and kissed one dildo, then the other.
She took one, abandoned the other and slowly moved it between her legs, holding it with both hands. The men watched, transfixed, as she squeezed it slowly into her cunt, past the gold strand. She gasped and her back arched.
Deeper and deeper she pushed it, her arms stretched, her breasts squeezed between them. Nothing was put on, there was no pretense. Her nipples were rigid and her was suffused with excitement.
"Ohhh yes!" she moaned. "Ohhh yes!"
She began masturbating slowly, rocking the dildo in and out of her cunt with one hand, her hips bucking and writhing and gyrating erotically, while she played with her breasts with the other.
Her face turned from side to side, radiant with excitement, and she kept up a constant litany of sexual prattle. The men watched her masturbate. Faster and faster she went, gasping and groaning, her hips heaving and writhing. Suddenly, she turned over onto her front and continued, rocking back and forth on all fours, one hand pumping between her thighs.
The gold strand was clearly visible in her crack and between her buttocks. Now she grabbed the other dildo and, as her guests gaped and gasped, slowly pushed it into her anus. Her body fell forward, writhing and jerking and both hands were stretched, one under her, one behind her as she moved the two dildoes simultaneously back and forth.
With a shuddering gasp, she collapsed on her front, and slid the dildoes out of her flesh.
"It ... it is never the same ...," she moaned. "It is never as good as the real thing ... as a real, hard, hot cock, hungry for my cunt."
She rose to her knees, beautiful, slender, sensuous, undeniable and faced the black man. She lifted her breasts in her hands in wanton offering.
"Joe," she murmured. "Fuck me."
His shoulders were broad and strong, padded with muscle. His neck was thick and bullish. His chest was heavily cleaved and swept in a wide W from armpit to armpit. His dark nipples were small and taut and pulled wide and low. The belly was rock-hard, padded with hard rectangles of muscle. His biceps and thighs bulged with strength and his forearms were thick and heavy, corded with muscle.
His torso was a savagely slashed V from shoulder to narrow waist and high hips. His buttocks were taut and small. His back curved inward to the spine because of the muscle on either side and then swept in and down to the swell of his buttocks.
His torso was entirely hairless; even the armpits were shorn. His dark, ebony skin glistened and gleamed, freshly oiled. He strolled up with the slow, feline walk that muscular people have and paused at the head of the steps, looking impassively at the guests.
He wore a black leather codpiece. A black leather strap girdled his hips and, attached to it, was a long, thick black leather sheath that covered the immensity of his penis and balls. His cock was huge. Limp, it hung at least eight inches long and was correspondingly thick. Sayali smiled at him.
"Gentlemen, meet my lover for the evening. Joe is Nigerian. He is a student at our university and works as a gigolo to pay his tuition. As he is paid to fuck me, he will take requests. If you would like him to do something in particular to me, please ask. He will try and oblige. Now, Jim, I think we're set. Could you arrange things for me please?"
Silently, the man nodded and retreated into the shadows. He emerged a minute later, hoisting a huge wooden device under his arm. He carried it lightly, effortlessly and his muscles rippled smoothly as he bore it down to the well.
Making place in the center of the room, he set it up quickly and silently. It was a folding divan, a long, wide, low wooden bench. He brought a thick mattress and unfolded it on the bench and then covered it with a colourful spread in a traditional tribal print.
Two fat bolsters at either end completed it. He stepped back. Sayali nodded in satisfaction. He went back up the stairs and moved to a corner. He stood in silence, his arms crossed, his legs spread. His cock dangled hugely, and his massive pectorals bunched between his equally awesome biceps.
Sayali smiled and turned to her audience. Slowly, she dropped the *pallu* of her *sari* and began to unravel her garment. There was complete, awed silence. She unwrapped it till it was held only by the last pleat. They did not know that she was naked beneath; one final tug and her body would be revealed.
Slowly, she unbuttoned her blouse. Her breasts were large and full and the men stared, transfixed at her deep cleavage. They could see the hard points of her long nipples. With tantalizingly slow movements, she caressed her breasts through the blouse, lifting them in her hands, squeezing them, crushing them together.
Then her blouse was undone and she opened it fully and tugged at the final pleat of her *sari*. Her clothes rustled to the floor and she was naked. There was a sharp intake of her breath. She smiled, lovely in her nakedness.
The gold girdle was eroticism itself; it dipped into the crack of her cunt-lips and vanished between her thighs and ran between her buttocks. Naked, she caressed herself, sensuously, stroking her belly, her thighs, her breasts, cupping her crotch.
"I love being fucked," she murmured, her voice husky and soft. "There's nothing better than having a big cock in my cunt ... the ultimate pleasure ..."
Kneeling on the divan, she lifted her breasts, her legs spread and, looking at her guests, ran her tongue-tip slowly over her upper lip in an utterly lascivious gesture. Her nipples stiffened and her nostrils flared with excitement.
"And then, when I don't have a lover, I have to satisfy myself ..." she murmured. Slowly, she eased herself onto her back and began to lift her knees, spreading her legs. "So I masturbate ... as a young girl, I used anything I could ... a banana ... a cucumber ... anything ... now my toys are more satisfying."
As if on cue, the black man moved, like a statue coming to life. He walked down to the divan and handed her something. Then he stepped back and stood in the living area, taking up his position as before, an erotic bas-relief. Sayali brandished two dildoes.
Each was eight inches long, nearly two inches thick and shaped very like a real penis. One had a surface that was ribbed and ridged. Her knees rose and her legs spread and now her cunt was open to her guests' view.
They could see the soft flesh of her cunt, the gold strand glittering in her crack. Some of them began masturbating in excitement. On the divan, Sayali groaned and licked and kissed one dildo, then the other.
She took one, abandoned the other and slowly moved it between her legs, holding it with both hands. The men watched, transfixed, as she squeezed it slowly into her cunt, past the gold strand. She gasped and her back arched.
Deeper and deeper she pushed it, her arms stretched, her breasts squeezed between them. Nothing was put on, there was no pretense. Her nipples were rigid and her was suffused with excitement.
"Ohhh yes!" she moaned. "Ohhh yes!"
She began masturbating slowly, rocking the dildo in and out of her cunt with one hand, her hips bucking and writhing and gyrating erotically, while she played with her breasts with the other.
Her face turned from side to side, radiant with excitement, and she kept up a constant litany of sexual prattle. The men watched her masturbate. Faster and faster she went, gasping and groaning, her hips heaving and writhing. Suddenly, she turned over onto her front and continued, rocking back and forth on all fours, one hand pumping between her thighs.
The gold strand was clearly visible in her crack and between her buttocks. Now she grabbed the other dildo and, as her guests gaped and gasped, slowly pushed it into her anus. Her body fell forward, writhing and jerking and both hands were stretched, one under her, one behind her as she moved the two dildoes simultaneously back and forth.
With a shuddering gasp, she collapsed on her front, and slid the dildoes out of her flesh.
"It ... it is never the same ...," she moaned. "It is never as good as the real thing ... as a real, hard, hot cock, hungry for my cunt."
She rose to her knees, beautiful, slender, sensuous, undeniable and faced the black man. She lifted her breasts in her hands in wanton offering.
"Joe," she murmured. "Fuck me."
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