Sucking his dick in the semi dark romantic atmosphere of this hotel room, I was feeling his ass. I felt a few wound marks on his right buttock. I silently counted them with my fingers. They were eight. After he had cum in my mouth and I had swallowed every drop of his hot salty juice and we were now sitting on the couch, all naked, I asked him about these marks. He smiled but tried to avoid an answer.
It was a romantic evening in Mauritius. He is Johnson Samuel, about 50 years of age, an American. He comes from a Christian Ministry and is called Brother Samuel. I am Margaret Tina, 30, from Holland, a Community Worker. We both first met in London where we were interviewed to work for an international non governmental organization. We arrived here only a couple of days ago to fight against polio. Brother Sam is Team Leader of the campaign. I am his deputy. We will organize the teams of local health workers and dispense the anti polio drops to the children. We are residing in the same hotel.
This was our first social meeting. He invited me over dinner. After taking food in the Dining Hall, he had ordered coffee to be served in his room. In his room, we had a few pegs of delicious Red African Wine before the coffee arrived. After coffee, we were having light gossip when all of a sudden we both found ourselves arm-locked. It was then that we both came to know that we make good sex partners too.
Brother Samuel, or Sam, as I call him when we are alone, is a great kisser. He kisses my toes first and then goes to my lips. He kisses them, sucks them and chews them while he fingers my belly-button. Then, he services my titties with his hands, fingers and lips. When it comes to his lips, his hand and fingers are normally busy feeling my pussy, the clit and hole. And once we two have gone too wild, we make the pussy and dick to play. What a pleasant game we play?
One evening, in my hotel-room, after spending nearly three hours of sexual pleasantries, we were talking of employing one or two local females and males who could work during day for anti-polio compaign but join us during night. He was lying naked on bed face down, when I again noticed those wound marks on his right buttock. They were almost of the same length and at almost equal distance. My curiosity again flared up. I felt them again and asked him as to what they were. He got up from bed, dressed up, came to sit on the couch, smiled and said.
"I got them in India some ten years ago when I went there as a teacher in a girls' high school. The school is run by the Christian Ministry to which I belong. Mother Victoria had been the Principal of this School for nearly fifteen years. I reported to her one fine winter morning. Although we come from same Ministry yet we did not know each other. It was our first meeting. She must be in her mid 55s, a very graceful lady. She greeted me with warmth. As I had traveled all the day and night by air, train and 'tonga' (horse cart), she told me to retire for rest. She said there was a Guest House adjoining to Principal's Lounge and that it had been furnished for me. She offered to meet me in the evening over a cup of coffee. She then called two male servants who carried my luggage and guided me to my future residence.
Reaching home, I just looked around. There was one big bed room with attached bath room and dressing room. On left side of the bed, there were couches and central table and a cupboard. On right side, there was a dining table with four chairs. On one side of the room, there was a verandah and six lawn chairs while other door opened towards Principal's House. My heart felt a sense of appreciation for Mother Victoria when I observed that the room had been tastefully, though modestly, furnished. I had a shower and soon went to sleep. I remained sleeping till evening when I heard some one saying:
"Brother Samuel, sir, get up. Mother Victoria... tea". I also felt the softness of a small hand waking me up. Once, I had opened my eyes, I saw a smile on her face. She must hardly be nineteen years' of age, a local girl. She pointed towards the door and said, "Mother Victoria... tea" and ran away in to Principal's Lounge.
After a quick shower, I dressed up and went out of my room. The cute girl was waiting. She guided me to Mother Victoria's Drawing Room. I apologized to Mother and said that it was a long journey and that I was tired. Mother Victoria did not say any thing but smiled - a very beautiful smile indeed. She told me that she had been here for twenty years. She came as Vice Principal and was promoted as Principal after five years. Principal and Vice Principal then used to be both white females. Some five years ago, Ministry decided to promote a native girl as Vice Principal and ever since then she was alone here. Except during vacations, when she would go to Spain, her native country, she would, at times, feel lonely. She said she was feeling fortunate that a young white teacher had joined her staff. I thanked her a lot.
She told me that the small town where I had been based was in the Panjab province of India with majority of Sikhs. They are a martial race with the traditions of respects and regards for the guests. But if guests misbehave, Sikhs shall cross all limits to punish them. Due to her long stay in the area and service to the community, Mother Victoria commanded a great respect among Sikhs.
From next day, I started my work as teacher. Every morning, I would dress myself in my white robes of a 'brother', wear my white half cap and teach the English language and literature. I was establishing myself as good teacher. I was happy, my students were happy and Mother Victoria was happy.
.... There is more of this story ...