Louise preened before the mirror. The new mini looked terrific, or at least her exposed, shapely legs looked terrific. She would not normally have dared wear such a mini-skirt if her father were at home. The skirt hugged her hips tightly. It was 9 inches above her knees. Her lacy panties would not remain hidden if bent over, or if she sat down. Thankfully her parents had just left half an hour ago for a weekend in the Eastern Highlands and Louise could indulge her erotic daydreams.
Louise turned to admire herself. She had much to admire. At eighteen, Louise had the figure of an older woman, at least in the bust department. There had not been a girl in her school who had a bust to match the size of Louise's full and rounded mounds. Only Louise knew that they stood firm and proud without sag despite their size. Her eager boyfriends back in England had been lucky to touch. None had progressed beyond her outer garments.
Louise was wearing a pink lightweight sweater. It sported low cut V-shape at the front. Round thrusting, pale breasts did not seek to escape from that top. It was not that tight, though cut low enough to reveal the delightful orbs within. It carefully hugged her breasts from below and to the sides. The curve and shape was clear to all, and that was the way Louise liked it.
She liked men looking at her.
She received quite a thrill to see the desire in the eyes of men as she swished past.
Normally she wore trousers that were tight and hugged the full curve of her well-rounded bottom. The trousers were tight enough to indicate the rounded fullness of her thighs, but not in the revealing way of her new mini-skirt. Her father would throw a fit if he could see her now. Would probably lock her in the bedroom and throw away the key if she ventured out to the local shops in this outfit.
Louise could well imagine the looks of the African men if she tried walking along the covered walkway that ran beside the shops. It had been bad enough to keeping their hands off her bottom when she was wearing trousers. It would be virtually impossible to keep their lewd hands from under a skirt as short as this!
Louise slipped into an erotic daydream imagining what it would feel like for those black hands to be up under her skirt. Not a single boyfriend had achieved that objective. Yet still she fantasized about what it would be like to finally let a man's hand explore her body.
Louise had only been in Zimbabwe a month. Her parents had been here six months. Louise had been able to finish her schooling at the exclusive girl's boarding school in the lovely English Lake District. It would be another six weeks before her A-level exam results would arrive and she could apply for a university place. Louise had no idea what career she wanted to follow, but all her friends were going to university, and her parents expected it of her. So 'uni' she was going.
As the pampered daughter of man who had spent most of his life as a director of one company or another, Louise had not considered the possibility of actual working with any seriousness. University would be the place to find a clever man who was going places and marry him, or so her mother had advised. Since her mother had always given her good advice and done well for herself in marrying daddy and seemed happy Louise had every intention of following her mother's advice.
The ring of the doorbell made Louise jump. The sudden panicky thought that her parents had returned was quickly subdued. Her parents would not have rang the doorbell! Indeed in the month since she had arrived she could not remember ever hearing the doorbell. Surely the normal practice was for the gardener to check who was at the gate, and discover from her parents whether the visitor was welcome or not. Ferai the gardener had already left to visit his cousin's house across town, she slowly remembered.
She walked to the front door of the villa. Practicing walking in her new skirt as she walked the corridor from her bedroom to the door, she did not bother to wonder who it would be. She would find out soon enough.
She peeped through the security hole in the door and nearly recoiled in shock. It was Scarface and his cronies!
She had no real idea of his name. Did not indeed know him at all, other than to see him and his friends hanging around the area the shops drinking beer. Every time he had looked at her it had given her a weird thrill.
He was an evil looking man.
She had wondered how and where he had acquired such a scar, her furtive imagination working overtime. He knew her mother, though she could not imagine how. She had overheard him make a lewd suggestive comment to her mother who had looked at him and continued past, while yelling at Louise to keep up.
What on earth did he want?
She yelled at him to go away.
He did not.
She could not hear his words on the far side of the heavy security door. If he had buzzed her from the gate they could have talked on the intercom.
'Had the house domestic let them in through the gate?'
The heavy door prevented her from hearing him clearly, and she struggled with his African accent.
"Go away," she called again suddenly wondering what on earth she would do if he didn't!
His words muffled by the door seemed to indicate that he had something to give her. Curious, she looked again through the peephole. She could not see him carrying anything. She looked at his three colleagues just visible further away from the door. They were the same three men he usually hung around with.
Shorty was watching the door, at least Shorty was the nickname she had given him; Smiler was examining the flowers growing along the front of the house. While Georgy Peorgy sat on the low garden wall and wiped the ever-present perspiration from his brow.
They did not appear threatening. In fact, they looked bored. Louise made a decision and opened the door. She stepped back quickly as Scarface stepped immediately inside. He stopped and his eyes dropped from her face to her mini skirt. He had of course, only seen her in trousers.
He was the first man to see her in it!
His friends crowded in behind. She tried to protest but their mutters about the heat outside reminded her that she was not being very sociable to leave them standing in the sun. She stepped away allowing them more room. Not even noticing that the door had closed behind them.
The words of Scarface drew the gaze of the other men, and all four Africans stared at her exposed, curvy legs. Georgy Peorgy wiped his forehead rapidly.
Louise flushed and she felt shivers ran down her spine as these four men openly ogled her legs. She was suddenly conscious that she was in the house alone with these four men, with even the gardener away.
"Well, what did you want? Did you say that you have something for me?"
Her voice was stronger than she felt.
Scarface's voice was a slow drawl as he eyed her lovely white legs. Louise was not sure if this was a comment on her legs or an answer to her question. She was trying not to appear nervous. She struggled to control her voice.
"If you have something for me, please give it to me and then leave."
"I think you should give it to her, boss."
It was Shorty whom had spoken.
"That's right, boss, why all the talking?"
Louise looked askance at that last comment by Smiler. There had not been much conversation to-date. Scarface turned and nodded at his companions before turning back to Louise.
"My friends here will bear witness that you asked me to give it to you, and I complied with your request."
Louise nodded and managed to look bored at the same time. She had mastered this technique many times in front of the mirror. She found the slow way of getting anything done one of the most tiresome features of being in Africa. That after only one month living here!
Her composure was shattered when Scarface casually unzipped himself.
"I suspect you have not had one of these before."
His words were calm, collected, measured even as he reached inside, and to the further shock of Louise, pulled out of his trousers a huge black cock.
The African men smiled at each other.
Scarface gradually caressed his cock. Louise looked on disbelief as the soft, 10-inch member began to lengthen.
To lengthen and thicken.
She screamed again and the African men laughed.
She looked at them in bewilderment. The boys back home would have run a mile if she had screamed like that. She suspected some of them would have run more than a mile. These men just looked at her and grinned without the slightest concern.
"I can't help with wondering whether your panties are as sexy as the rest of your clothes."
Louise opened her mouth to scream again, but stopped when Scarface shook his head at her.
"It is doubtful whether anyone can hear you."
He paused and eyed the heavy security door meaningfully. It had an imposing thickness. That very thickness would no doubt help to suppress any noise from within the house.
"In the unlikely event that anyone does here you scream, do you really believe that any of them could be bothered to run 15 miles into town to the nearest police station and report it?"
"Even if they did this remarkable thing, do you suppose the police are going to come charging to the rescue? Firstly they will dither then ask for an explanation. Then they will write a report. Then they may radio for guidance. In the unlikely event they do decide to investigate, you can expect Officer Kirog to jump onto his bicycle and cycle the 15 miles here to investigate; which, of course, he may leave until tomorrow since it will be so late by the time any decision is reached!"
Louise closed her mouth and stared at Scarface. Everything he said seemed only too plausible.
"When Officer Kirog arrives, we may offer you to him ourselves. I'm sure Officer Kirog would be very tempted by such an offer. After all, he is a man, and you are a particularly attractive example of English womanhood. Especially if I offer him a discount."
"Even if he refuses such an offer, he will want to take you in for a statement. Then his senior officers are going to come and goggle down your top and check out your legs. I can assure you from past experience their main concern would be finding a way to arrest you and keeping you in jail overnight. After all, they could accuse you of civil disturbance wearing clothes like that."
Scarface nodded to her short skirt.
"They will accuse you of provoking the lusts of men and inviting rape! Tiresome I know, and provincial in the extreme, but what can you expect from a backwater country like Zimbabwe? It won't really matter once they have ogled your lovely breasts. They really are very lovely, you know. Aye, and once they have finished examining those lovely white legs they will find some pretext for arresting you so that they can keep you overnight."
"Night time in African jails is no place for a pretty white woman like yourself! Who knows what would happen in the dark?"
Scarface grinned. The scar did not make it appear much like a smile. Louise shivered. She was helpless with these men. She had been so foolish to open the door. These were not like the boys back home. They were men.
Men who were undoubtedly intent on taking her for their sexual pleasure, and there was not anyone here to stop them!
Involuntarily her nipples tingled and thickened, becoming hard minor peaks poking through her sweater. Her body's reaction was totally unintentional on the part of Louise. Unfortunately, her body had reacted to this situation in a manner that Louise did not understand.
As she was not wearing a bra, her arousal was obvious to the watching men. Her knees started to feel weak, and she was very noticeably damp between her legs.
She was also scared. She was, after all, a virgin despite her erotic daydreams.
"I think you are a whore."
"I am not!"
The men's eyes traveled over her body, four men, devouring her with their eyes. Men who had every intention of doing exactly what they wished with her. She trembled unsure why her body had started tingling.
"All the girl's back home dress like this!"
"Are they all virgins, too?"
"How can you accuse me of being a whore when I am still a virgin?"
"All whores were virgins once."
Scarface let the words hang in the air.
"Care to tell me about your dreams?"
Louise flushed scarlet.
"I like to think I am particularly good at spotting whores. You will make a particularly good one. You will be very popular."
Louise glared at him.
"Now let's see what is under that skirt."
Scarface advanced on Louise.
Louise stepped way but Shorty and Smiler had quickly advanced and seized her arms. Louise struggled in their arms to no avail. Their hands were like iron bands around her soft, slim arms.
Even as she struggled in their arms Scarface leaned down and deftly whipped her short skirt up until it bunched around her waist. The material held in position by the ripe curves of her rounded hips.
Scarface stepped back and released a sigh of appreciation. Louise shrieked and wriggled her hips, but her short skirt could not slide down on its own over her lovely curves.
Georgy Peorgy was eying her legs with a look of wonder in his eyes.
Louise glared fiercely at Georgy who simply laughed. She crossed her legs to try and hide her more intimate parts. Unfortunately her pose only served to enhance the sexy curves of her shapely legs.
A hand cupped her bottom, followed quickly by a second. Shorty and Smiler both had a free hand each and had taken the opportunity to cup and fondle the cheeks of the girl's well-rounded derriere, now partly exposed by the rising line of her panties.
For the first time in her life Louise felt warm male hands explore her bottom. Fingers that lightly stroked across the exposed, soft, panty covered flesh. She quivered at the strange and interesting tingling that those hands were generating.
"Are they for real?"
The words brought her attention back to her front. The African she thought of as Georgy Porgy was staring at her breasts. The low cut of her top exposed the full rounded curves that now seemed fuller and seemed to be surging upwards with each heave of nervous breath.
That surge was not created by a tight, designed, brassiere. It was the natural buoyancy of youthful womanhood at its prime that had created those lovely curves. Georgy leaned forward and his hands reached out. Louise cringed away from those advancing hands.
In a swift, sure movement, he whipped out a large knife and waved it front of her face. Louise stared at the wicked blade, at the nasty-looking serrated edge and froze. Scarface whisked the knife up, twirled it in the eyes of Louise then swept down in a fierce, tearing slice. Louise screamed as she felt the cold blade slide down her chest. With a quick forceful jerk the edge of the knife sliced easily through the material of Louise's sweater.
A stunned Louise stared down, as the material hung limp and loose. Not a mark or scratch marred her magnificent silken white body. Georgy Porgy advanced on Louise. Shorty and Smiler held her arms fast. Their actions in gripping her tighter drew the material further apart.
Scarface slid his knife back into its sheaf. Louise seemed frozen as Georgy casually flipped the sweater aside and pudgy black hands cupped and caressed the magnificent breasts.
"Please ... don't," her voice was a whisper.
Four pairs of African eyes explored her body; stared eagerly at the exposed white, pink tipped mounds, and the fat black fingers exploring them. To her surprise and confusion, the hands on her breasts felt good. The African's hands were soft, and gentle. His fingers tweaked and played with her hardening nipples. Louise cursed her body's betrayal as it responded to the presence of four rampant desiring males. Sharp tingling pleasurable heat radiated from her aroused excited nipples. She looked down at the dark hands, which starkly contrasted with the whiteness of her own previously untouched breasts.
His hands felt good!
Louise struggled with that realization.
This fat, black bastard was arousing her.
How could that be?