The phone rang on his desk making David jump. He snatched it out of it's cradle.
"Yes?" He demanded. He was working urgently on the contract documents needed for tonight's meeting and did not welcome interruptions. He was going to have to work late as it was.
"David, is that you?"
"Yes, what's up?" Quickly moderating his tone. It was Uhuru Shona on the other end of the phone. Managing Director and Chairman of the Board. The man, who owned the largest share of the company, was known as the Black Beast among his staff. He had been known to physically pick up and hurl those staffers across desks who annoyed him. As a high-ranking member of the country's politburo, he was one of the new African elite who treated his country as his personal playground.
A very profitable and entertaining playground just for his personal use.
"David, drop what you are doing and get your wife over to the Sheraton!"
That stopped him dead in his tracks. Take his wife to the Sheraton?
"What for? Aren't you at the Sheraton?"
"No. Getting the new shipping license is taking longer than expected. My usual contact is away, and his snivelling lackey is too afraid to do anything without authority. I have been in touch with the minister and it is being sorted. If I turn up at the Sheraton without the license, the contract is as good as lost. Keraki is still travelling back from Kwekwe and will not be back before 7pm. No one is with Mr. Domon. He is expecting us to join him for dinner at 6pm. You and Ken are still working on the presentation, yes?"
"Yes, we won't be finished for another couple of hours. Those damn clerks have fucked it up again. We can't present it as it is! I don't see how my wife can help she knows nothing about the business."
"She does not need to know anything about the business. Tell her to chat about England, shopping in Oxford Street..."
"I hardly think Mr. Domon would be interested in discussing shopping."
"Shut up, you damn fool! Your wife is so damn beautiful she could spend the whole evening discussing varieties of monkey shit and Mr. Domon would still be enraptured! Get her over to the Sheraton for a slap-up meal and tell her to entertain him and keep him sweet until I, or Keraki, get there. You know how important this contract is. If we don't win it, the company will close and you can go back to the dole queue in England!"
David winced. The last month had been frenetic, hectic and demanding. It was still far better than wondering if the mortgage company were about to foreclose on him.
"Pass the phone over to Ken."
David looked across the room where Ken Smith was putting the last touch to the financial figures.
He raised his eyes then grimaced at Ken to indicate the mood Uhuru was in, before passing the phone across to him. Ken shrugged his soldiers and took the phone. He had been working for 10 years for Uhuru and knew his moods and idiosyncrasies. He had even learned that, for certain services and a blind eye, it could be very rewarding. He had seen a whole series of wide-eyed young expat professionals arrive full of wonder and interest in Africa. The sooner David understood why he had been employed the better, but it was not for Ken to tell him.
"You have the money with you?"
Ken's eyes swung to the large overall. It contained $110,000 US, a lot of money but a pittance of the potential profit if this new contract was signed. A contract that would be paid in valuable foreign currency direct by the World Bank instead of through the usual, and more difficult, African companies.
"Yes, I have the money."
"Good. Don't let it out of your sight. As soon as everything is ready, let me know and I will meet you both at the Sheraton."
Uhuru grinned at the words. He liked it when white men called him boss. He also liked the nickname of Black Beast that he had learned his staff used. More than anything else, he liked the fact that Ken's pretty white wife was kneeling at his feet and slavishly worshipping his erect black cock with eager lips and tongue even as her husband was calling him boss and slaving away to make him more money.
"Take $10,000 out of the case, Ken. That's for you. Buy your wife a nice dress. I like the package that has just arrived. Very nice, make sure David takes his wife over to the Sheraton pronto."
"Yes boss, I'll see to it." He put the phone down, and paused in thought. The "package" Uhuru had referred to was Ken's 14-year-old niece. He had not seen his niece since he left England 10 years ago. She had been a sweet wide-eyed blonde angel then. He had not even seen her since she had arrived in Africa. His wife had picked her up from the airport and taken her straight to Uhuru's villa. He felt a pang of guilt over doing this to his brother.
Then he picked up the $10,000. The pang lessened.
Tamara's tiredness had disappeared. The sight of her pretty aunt kneeling in front of the big African, slavishly sucking on that huge black cock had dispelled all tiredness. Her eyes were wide with wonder and a certain fear. She knew what men did to women with cocks but the one this African sported seemed more like a rhinoceros horn. The idea that such a monster cock could be thrust inside a woman filled her with considerable trepidation, as well as an intense excitement. The African put the phone down and looked at Tamara.
It was a wolfish grin that sent a shiver down her spine. His eyes had not left her. Even as her aunt had so obscenely sucked on that black cock, even as he had spoken on to the phone to barely remembered Uncle Ken, his hungry eyes that devoured her nubile teenage body.
Uhuru stood up and brushed her aunt aside. He advanced on the bed, his big black cock bobbing and jerking in front of him as he advanced.
Tamara nearly fainted, as she backed away across his bed, nearly, but not quite!
"Hello, Mr. Domon, this is my wife, Susie."
Susie smiled at the dignified and snappily dressed African.
Mr. Domon took her hand, raised it to her lips, and kissed. A charming gesture that Sally had never experienced in England. Her smile became more sincere.
"Your wife is charming and beautiful, Mr. Jarvis, but I was expecting to meet Mr. Shona and Mr. Skukiru. Is there a problem?"
His gaze fell on David who shuffled his feet and tried to appear confident. He was not used to dealing with high-powered men like Mr. Domon. In England, he could browbeat and debate with senior managers and lawyers. In Africa he was constantly mixing directly with businessmen who owned their own companies, influenced government policy, invested millions on a hunch.
Men who brooked little interference in their own plans, legal or otherwise.
Mr. Domon's eyes were shrewd and penetrating, as they looked over the nervous and shuffling young white professional.
"Well, Mr. Jarvis, is there a problem?"
David squirmed under the gaze of this clearly dominant African male. This was not the usual sloppy African ne'er do well.
He coughed, to clear his thoughts.
"Mr. Shona has been delayed flying back from Vic Falls. He is expected here at 7pm. Mr. Skukiru is delayed by an accident on the Bulawayo Road. Unfortunately, we suffer badly from road accidents. I cannot be certain when he will arrive."
He paused, not really convinced that he had satisfied Mr. Domon, who was frowning at him.
"I need to get back to the office. Mr. Smith is waiting with the... ' David paused, and looked around to see if anyone might be overhearing, "... with the agreed commission."
Mr. Domon's eyes did not even flicker in acknowledgment. He glanced across to Sally then back to the young white man.
"Err... Mr. Shona has asked you to accept his apology and if you will accept his apology for this delay he has asked if you would like my wife to accompany to you to dinner during this delay."
Mr. Domon's expression did not change. He nodded slightly. He turned to Sally, and to David's relief offered her his arm. Sally took his arm, glancing at her husband, who nodded encouragingly to her. She turned and allowed the African to lead her to the hotel lifts. They would be eating at one of the top restaurants in Harare on the ground floor. As they had been drinking in the mezzanine bar, she was not surprised when this distinguished African gentleman led her to the lifts. She did not look back at her nervous young husband.
The surprise came when Mr. Domon pressed the lift button for the penthouse floor.
Unsure how to react or respond, she stood silently her arm in his, then suddenly noticed that Mr. Domon was using the advantage of the mirrors in the lift to look her over.
At 20 years old, she was rather proud of her figure and looks. Since arriving in Africa she had started getting used to the hungry eyed look most Africans openly give her. Mr. Domon's studied indifference had been a welcome change. That he was not quite so indifferent as first appeared was reassuring. Not so reassuring was their current destination. The restaurants were on the ground floor, and they were going up!
It was the first time she had been alone with an African man. Her husband would be on his way back to the office.
She glanced across at Mr. Domon. He was older than her father. Distinguished and a gentleman, even if he was an African. Quite different to the usual Africans who had groped her in the shops and hotels, reassured she wondered what to say to this stranger she had met just moments ago.
Then she noticed his eyes examining her still in the mirror. She flushed. She was hardly dressed her best. Her husband had rushed in and rushed her out. She was wearing tight corduroy trousers, and the black figure-hugging top that emphasized the fullness of her breasts. It was not all that smart, though her husband liked it a lot. Hardly the most appropriate clothing for going to dinner. Especially with a man as important as her husband had indicated this man was.
Mr. Domon fully appreciated that top, however.
Full upstanding breasts that would be a delight to squeeze as he fucked his cock between those shapely, tightly clad, thighs. Mrs. Jarvis has a classic English beauty. Uhuru had done him well with this wonderful beauty. Her face had a heart shaped loveliness, with a pert nose, and a small well shaped mouth. Her eyes were bright, sparkling and blue. Her hair while straight was very long, almost to her waist.
Those tight corduroy trousers did little to hide shapely full thighs, and a full rounded derriere.
He could hardly keep his hands to himself. He would wait until he got her to the penthouse. Once there he would be able to do as he wished with her, and be confident of no interruption from the hotel staff or other guests.
"What exactly did your husband say when he told you to join me here?"
"My husband asked me, no I suppose Mr. Jarvis, asked me. He didn't tell me!"
Mr. Domon smiled and bowed to her. He liked spirit in a woman. It usually meant they were good in bed. Clearly her husband had not mastered her yet.
"And what exactly did your husband ask you to do?"
"He asked that I should entertain you for a few hours, have dinner with you, until Mr. Shona and Mr. Skukiru arrive."
"Have you done much entertaining for Uhuru, Mrs. Jarvis?"
"Err no, we only arrived in Zimbabwe a month ago."
Mr. Domon's smile was wide and encouraging. Sally went on.
"I have been settling in. Finding the secrets of how to buy things. I have to give the supermarket manager a monthly tip so he will ring me when sugar arrives. Never had to do things like that in England. It's all quite different here. But I find it fun. I am getting used to it."
"Good, and how long have you been married?"
Sally's eyes brightened. She loved her husband and enjoyed talking about him. She nattered on happily as Mr. Domon led her into his penthouse suite. His armed guards would patrol the approaches to the suite.
Mr. Domon, once in the room, pushed around some of his papers and filed a few into his steel briefcase. He did not trust leather. Too easily cut open. Finally he turned to Sally and offered her an aperitif prior to going down to dinner.
She gratefully accepted the glass.
"So you have never entertained an African man before."
"No, to be honest, before I came to Zimbabwe I had not even met a black man before."
Her hand suddenly rose to her mouth. She flushed in embarrassment. The rosy flush only enhanced her beauty.
"Oh dear, I didn't mean anything, I shouldn't have said black man. I meant African, of course."
Mr. Domon laughed easily to put her at her ease.
"So you have not learned for yourself if there is any truth in the tales that black men have big cocks?"
Sally's eyes widened. They flicked from side to side. Had she heard correct? Surely not! Mr. Domon had been a perfect gentleman. She looked at him. His eyes were hard and piercing. She remembered how nervous David had been. She sipped her drink. Tried to pretend she had not heard.
"Would you like to find out if it is true?"
Sally swallowed hard. She was in trouble. She was in a hotel room with a strange man. He had armed guards outside the room. Her husband was miles away. This distinguished and wealthy African businessman was talking dirty to her. She sipped her drink and tried to pretend he had not said anything.
Mr. Domon finished his drink then took the glass from Sally's trembling fingers.
Sally backed away.
His hand reached out and caught her behind the head. He could feel her trembling in his grasp. He loved the fear and uncertainty in her. He really did not care if she resisted. He would take her anyway. His hand caressed the side of her face, admiring and stroking the soft flesh that covered those high cheekbones. A thick black thumb caressed her lips.
"Have these lovely lips ever sucked on a really big cock?"
She stared at him disbelieving as his hands dropped to his trousers and he unzipped himself.
Sally seized the moment, turned and raced for the door. It was locked. She shrieked for help. The chattering guards on the other side of the door fell silent. She pulled at the door and shrieked again for help.
Mr. Domon grinned as he advanced on the young woman struggling with the door.
"Come, my dear. I'll make it good for you."
"I'm not your 'dear, '" Sally yelled at him.
Mr. Domon grinned and pulled her to him. Sally struggled in his arms. She twisted around and sought to get away. Large black hands rose up and clasped her breasts.
Sally gasped as hard hands grasped and fondled her full mounds. She cursed as pleasurable sensations swept over her. Cursed her own body as she was clasped tightly to the surprising hard and warm body of the African behind her. The African pulled her close. She could feel his hot breath on her neck.
"I like a woman who puts up a fight!"
Sally froze at the words. He was enjoying her struggles. She hung limp in his arms. His hands took advantage of the cessation of struggling to slip under her top and rise up the soft warmness of her body. Belatedly Sally remembered she was not wearing a bra and sought to push his hands back down. She was shocked at the strength in his arms. Her own resisting hands might as well as have not been there. He ignored her efforts and her bare white breasts were soon in his hands. Black fingers tweaked on treacherously erect nipples. He grunted his pleasure at this discovery. His tweaking fingers sent sharp shocks of pleasure up and down her body. Desperately she tried to struggle free. With his hands already up inside her top she had little chance of breaking free of him.