Africa - Cover

Africa

Copyright© 2014 by Maxicue

Chapter 9

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 9 - Nick via his tales brings Joe and Lindy to ancient southern Africa, siring Salome. Joe and Helena enjoy their honeymoon, ending it by joining Nick's contingent in Paris. Though I recommend reading the previous Serpent Tales, I have provided a summation of the earlier books.

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Consensual   BiSexual   Incest   Sister   DomSub   Group Sex   Interracial   First  

Lindy and I awoke just before her natural six-am wake up time if she were in Boston. But being in Paris it ended up almost noon. After a gentle embrace and a slightly acidic kiss, she told me, "I need to readjust if I'm to have time with Quatre Quartet and with Eva."

"It's going to be San Francisco all over again," I sighed. "But, and I hate to ask this, won't there be a lack of male dancers?"

She chuckled. "I was hoping you might want to help us. It'll be just a couple early days, at least this week. This weekend we're keeping open. If things get exciting, we may want to rehearse, but not so early. And the quartet won't be rehearsing either unless Angelique feels it's necessary."

"It seems as if they're doing quite a lot of rehearsal."

"There are several reasons," Lindy explained. "As much as this is for the concerts at the Opera, it's also their time to just be together working as a group. Angelique also finds herself rather prolific composing and wants to gel these thoughts. Even though it's too late to add new pieces, she's thinking of having a sort of encore event each evening to present them. And, well, she's thinking of having some dance included."

"With you and Eva?"

"And Miwa and Vance."

"He's here?" I said excitedly. I really liked the brilliant young black man. When she nodded, I asked, "Why haven't I seen him?"

"You've been busy reuniting," she smirked. "And he's been rather busy himself exploring this amazing city. He's almost as enamored with it as you are, and decided to strike out on his own to explore. Speaking of which, we really need to get going. We planned meeting together outside the Louvre."

"When?"

"1."

"Cool."

"And Joe?"

"Yes, darling?"

"I want you to dance too."

"Shit," I said, making her laugh.

After a shared shower, loving but quick, just enjoying soaping each other's backs and naughty parts without moving too far from the sensual to the sexual, we had croissants and café au lait with Helena and Christa, already up, but not that much longer than us. They had managed to call down for room service, thus the coffee and croissants. I called Bob's room, and found him lazing about with Eva. They must have also had a long night.

"Perfect," he said about heading to the Louvre. "We can meet JB and Sheila there," referring to the Scottish Amazon stripper, a minion of Simons, but even so a lovely, sweet woman.

"She decided to join him?"

"Yep. He's definitely smitten."

"As are you," I reminded him. "Speaking of which, does Michiko plan to visit?"

"She'll be here tomorrow," he said cheerfully. "Can't wait."

After disconnecting, I looked at Christa. "I'm going to have to head back home," she told us, sadly. "I have a red eye this evening, and Michiko arrives a bit later. She will rest and come here early tomorrow."

"Michiko plans to take vacation," said Helena. "What about you?"

"Uhm, I could say it's too late, you know, not enough time ahead, but to tell you the truth, it starts next weekend."

"But that's perfect," Helena remarked showing confusion. "Isn't it?"

"I like spending time with my girlfriend when I can."

"How many days off?" Helena asked her.

"10."

"So you spend three with us, and we can meet your two Amsterdam lovers before flying out that Monday together, have lunch with them or something, and, maybe, we could accompany you to Wisconsin."

"I'd like you to meet her, but isn't that asking a lot?"

Helena must have read something in me, a cringe anticipating long flights in tight spaces, because she volunteered, "What if it's just me? I bet it would be more comfortable all the way around."

"You're right that it would make my girlfriend more comfortable and more excited. She really does prefer women even more than I do. You know I tend to share her bed?"

"I understand. I'd be honored sharing a bed with your soul mate."

Christa laughed. "Boy, she'll love you. But she's not kept herself in the best of shape."

"Won't bother me. I'm sure I'll see the beauty you see."

"She will," I confirmed.

"But what about you two?" Christa asked us.

"He'll be fine. I'm sure Lindy will keep him plenty busy."

Everyone but Christa chuckled. "You won't be jealous?" she asked Helena. "I mean, one night I guess I understand, but..."

Lindy chose to answer within another chuckle, "Not that I won't be sharing his bed at night, because I probably will, but I believe Helena refers to how busy he'll be with my showcase."

I nodded. "I'll be acting and dancing in Lindy's various projects. She's quite the taskmaster."

"Still," Christa continued.

"We'll miss each other," Helena admitted. "But we'll have a long lifetime together. And believe me when I tell you, neither one of us gets jealous. Even though I choose to be monogamous as far as other men go, that's more my decision than his. And he's been with you and Michiko and Eva. And with Lindy, she's almost a second wife to him."

"I could say that it's friends with benefits," Lindy added, "since we consider ourselves best friends. But it's more than that. We love each other. And I'm very fond of Helena as well."

"You're not in love with each other?" Christa asked.

"We're getting there," said Lindy. My wife nodded, sharing a fond smile with our lover.

"We should go," I reminded everyone.

"Call Vance," said Lindy. "I bet he stayed out late as well. Paris tends to do that to people, especially the first night here."

I called down and got transferred to his room. "I'm glad you called," he told me. "I tried to get hold of Lindy, but she's not in her room."

"That's because she' in mine," I told him.

"Oh. Right. Anyway, I wasn't sure if you were registered under your name or Helena's or Nick's, or if you were in some other hotel even, since we arrived after you've been in Europe for a while. I was about to try Nickolas Postumus when you called."

"We're all here and it's under my name. We're all about to head to the Louvre. Want to come?"

"Of course."

"Meet us in the lobby. Eva will probably be there already with a best friend of mine from Minneapolis named Bob."

"Cool," he said and hung up.

It took us longer to leave since Christa needed to pack (which, being a highly seasoned traveler, didn't take long) and commiserate with Helena (which took longer) as well as getting a long and loving hug from her and me. So when we made it to the lobby, Bob and Vance seemed to already become friends, probably talking about the distant land of the Twin Cities, a much less spectacular urban area, but not without its charms.

We had a couple unexpected angels as well to meet us, and a mortal. It seemed Natasha had made the journey, and her angel Naomi along with Betty accompanied her. When they ended up in the lobby coincidentally, Eva had invited them to our excursion and they had accepted. I noticed Bob had half an eye on the gorgeous and sexy Jewess angel, and she noticed and teased with subtle sexy moves. I even thought about how much his Jewish parents might have preferred her over the Japanese cutie as a chosen mate. Of course, that could never happen, even if he had considerable intelligence.

With the size of the entourage, and desiring to experience the Metro, we decided to forgo the usual limousine services Nick always provided. Instead, we let Christa enjoy the comfort of the fancy transportation. After more hugs and a tear in both my wife's and Christa's eyes, we watched the big Rolls Royce depart.

Despite being mid-week, we found quite a line to get into the Louvre. Being summer, most of the line consisted of what looked like high school and college students. Our numbers helped us to keep place in it, basically the angels remaining for the estimated hour and a half wait, while we mortals ventured into the neighboring Pompidou Center of Modern Art, my preferred area of enjoyment having grown up a member of the prestigious Walker Art Center, a modern art museum in Minneapolis. Though unable to linger too long, Bob, Tash, Lindy and I managed to soak up the diverse examples of mostly twentieth century art with thorough appreciation, the more avant-garde and less figurative works leaving Vance either indifferent or, unfortunately, mocking. He did share our enjoyment of Rouault, whose expressionist paintings happened to be having a featured exhibit there.

JB and Sheila accompanied Betty to the hotel to check into their room, taking a taxi to get there.

We returned to the line, annoying several others, just in time to enter the huge museum. JB and Sheila had joined the angels by then. By the end of my time at the Louvre, spending hours gazing at old paint and carved stone, my eyes and the brain behind them felt beyond saturated to the point of exhaustion. And, except for the Dutch Masters, and unique artists like Goya and Turner, much of the work left me as cold and indifferent as Vance had found the modern abstract works.

And the Mona Lisa? I caught barely a glimpse of the small painting from a distance. Another line which would have gotten me close just didn't seem worth it. Da Vinci's other paintings there did pique my interest more than most of his contemporaries.

Despite the toll and the relative lack of interest, I enjoyed the famous museum.

Exhaustion abated somewhat at a great restaurant suggested by Nick via one of his angels, a place of high quality that didn't need us to wear fancy clothing. The wine, a rosé suggested by the sommelier, had to be the best I ever tasted. Despite the stick to the ribs casseroles they featured, the food still had an exquisite taste.

After eating and resting, taking our time at our feast to chat about what we'd seen and what we planned, the group bifurcated. The angels and Lindy and I, including Eva, headed to the hotel. Used to being kept away from our meetings, i.e. Snake's Tales, only slight annoying showed on Tash's face. After all, she and the others got to play in the City of Light while we essentially went to work. They decided to stick together, Vance having satisfied his exploration of the gay side of Paris the evening before, and he had another week or so to continue those explorations, and friendship had blossomed between him and Bob. Tash enjoyed the company of those two as well.

Not that I really considered listening to Nick and his angels and being transferred back in an amazing visionary way to those ancient times via Naomi's magical drawings really work. Or if it could be called work, it had a thrill to it that only the best of such endeavors bestowed. And any vestiges of tiredness always evaporated.

No, work in the grinding, relentless way it invokes, as far as the tales, came later, or actually fairly soon for Lindy and I when we began turning all we'd heard and seen into concrete constructions, transcribing Nick's digital recordings and editing them and Naomi's art into a series of books. Naomi would be involved in these lengthy sessions, as would Betty most of the time and Nick occasionally. They began that weekend and early, this being a project involving Lindy. Though I might have complained on occasion, starting early meant having most of the day to explore Paris. And it too had an excitement and exhilaration to it that rarely exhausted. But we had at least two more evenings before that, listening to Nick and Salomé tell us about Africa.

In his large suite, angels surrounding him and us two mortals, Eva I guess Simon's representative this time, all but him with easy access to titties, pussies and cock, Nick told us of the sad event that greeted him upon his return to the southernmost village of the jungle kingdom.


Ahchkah struggles for every breath when Nick arrives in the hut. One of his daughters, daughter of the dying concubine, and a female healer from the village look at him sadly. He nods at them and they take the silent signal in its intent. He wishes to be alone with his dying lover.

"Nick," Ahchkah barely mutters.

"Ahchkah," he returns, sitting beside her fragile body, clasping a bony hand.

"Did you do well?"

"Yes."

"Of course," she coughs out a chuckle.

"Ssh."

"Nick," she struggles to say.

"Yes, my love."

"I ... wanted to say ... goodbye."

"I know. I will miss you."

"I ... wish I ... could stay. But..."

"I know. Thank you for waiting. Goodbye, my love."

Her smile hurts his heart. Yes he will miss her, but as always happens, he has to let her go. He smiles back as widely as possible until he feels her grip loosen and end. A breath releases, long, emptying her lungs. They no longer need to ever fill again. It's as if the breath contains her life, her spirit, her consciousness releasing along with the last of any life giving air, expiring into the world beyond her body. Like her breath, her spirit dissipates, spreading out into the air of the hut and beyond it, perhaps joining with multitude of spirits freed of bodies over a thousand years somehow informing the air of their brief mortal existence, somehow changing it with the thoughts and emotions and experiences they had when held within a body.

He sniffles and sheds tears while gently shutting her vacant eyes.

When Nick exits the hut, the chief, among several others, greet him. "How may we honor her, Great Leader?" he asks.

"Just bury the body," he tells the chief. "It is but a shell now. What she was no longer exists except in our memories. In remembering her, we honor her."

"You should speak over her grave," the chief suggests.

Nick shakes his head. "A few words could never capture her essence, especially delivered by one man. She touched many. Bury her, and we shall have a party, a celebration of her all too brief yet brilliant presence amongst us." He turned away from the chief and embraced his daughter, the daughter of Ahchkah, who had attended her mother to her last breath. She wept in his arms, and he silently cried.

Later, following a party that fills the air with laughter and sobs lasting well into the night, all but two sleep.

"Grandfather," Salomé murmurs, sitting beside Nick at the edge of the village, "I am uncertain what to do. It seems too soon to abandon the wife of the chief's son, and yet I already feel the need to be with the leader of that southern tribe."

"Your work can last long or only a few months," Nick explains. "He is no longer the chief's son, but chief himself. He, and even more his wife, has gained the respect of the little ones, and perhaps even more significantly, they have shown his people that these others, so strange and different, deserve to be respected as equals. He may be the only chief in Africa to rule over two different tribes."

Salomé nods, "It's amazing how little time it took to gain such trust, and it really was the wife's doing, being so soft spoken and yet so wise. Of course having us end the threats to the little people helped significantly. The little chief and his advisor could rebuild their old village in safety." She chuckles, "The woman we gave that overly ambitious little man definitely tamed his ambitiousness."

"Perhaps not," Nick grins. "The chief of the little people has really become just a figurehead. His people, and it sounds like that includes virtually every one of them returning to the south, look to the advisor more than him what with his godlike woman as lover and bearer of his child."

"Yes. And she's pregnant again as is the wife of the newly made chief. His of course this time. She really is remarkable, so brilliant, so sensuous and sexual, and so maternal. She excels at everything."

"Such is the geniuses you support. Encouraging them makes them achieve even greater successes, giving them that extra bit of confidence they need to become extraordinary."

"You're saying my work is done," Salomé says sadly.

"It has to be, unfortunately. I need you beside the new leader of the southern tribe when he marches triumphantly into his brother's village. We cannot afford to stay long here."

"How long?"

"Less than a week."

She smiles. "I thought it might be shorter."

"We need more warriors from the jungle people as well as gaining full rest for those that accompanied us before. I will beckon you when we are ready."

"Of course."

"Perhaps find us one more translator from the little people."

"I will."

They rest together, needing little sleep, but the emotional extremes of the previous day demand a brief time of unconsciousness to restore energy to even immortal bodies and minds, and Nick's especially. He spoons her as if they are lovers. Though no longer intimate physically, their minds cannot be more intimate, and the love within this connection cannot be purer.

She leaves him when the sun rises, carefully to allow his continued rest. Always she has company when venturing through the forest for a couple hours before reaching the small waterfall that marks the small, though ever growing village. Only this time does she venture alone. Even if little can harm her, only a severing of the head, so protective guards aren't really necessary, she feels especially safe at this moment and free of any concern as she traipses through the dark, fecund land. Her mind, with only careful steps through the foliage, the path ingrained in her needing little thought, and without any concern or conversation company creates, feels especially free to wander wherever it will. It centers her and makes her ready for a long and loving goodbye.

Still, when she embraces her genius so magnanimously, so lovingly, so completely, sadness cannot help reemerging.

"What?" asks the young chief's young wife when she looks at her lover after the embrace. "No," follows almost immediately.

Salomé can't help chuckling. "I should have figured you'd figure it out immediately."

"How long do we have?"

"Nick says almost a week."

"I guess it will have to do. I thought we had longer."

"Me too."

The young wife leads Salomé into the chief's hut. Salomé can't help be pleased with its empty state. They kiss each other hungrily, falling onto the large bed, the wife atop Salomé in a tight embrace. "I want you naked," the young, slightly pregnant mother insists, ripping off Salomé's furs. Nothing furtive follows. The young woman aggressively kisses every spot she learns thrills her gorgeous lover. She lingers only at two nipples, sucking and biting them, twisting the one not mouthed with harsh pressure of her fingers, her other hand sending fingers dipping into moistening pussy.

"Gods," Salomé moans. The intensity of her lover's attention brings her remarkably close to cumming.

And as soon as the woman's mouth reaches her pussy, with one swipe of a tongue from anus to clit and the tongue swirling around that hard knot of nerve endings while the lips grip and the mouth sucks, the climax arrives, too powerful to be expected in its quickness and without building teases. Salomé screams the young wife's name, eyes wide caught in the eyes of her remarkable lover.

"I missed you," the young lover says.

"I could tell," Salomé giggles breathlessly.

"And you obviously missed me."

"I have."

When tears pour down the young mother's face, Salomé gently pulls her into her arms and tastes the salty cheeks. "Sweetheart," she murmurs.

"Make love to me," her lover requests.

Unlike the young woman, Salomé takes her time. She kisses exposed skin as she strips her of clothing, ending the oral caresses at the woman's navel. Rolling her onto her back, Salomé starts again at the top, lips kissing lips gently and thoroughly, intensifying slowly until tongues meet and the woman groans into her mouth and her body shivers at the electric contact. Encouraging this rise in excitement, Salomé caresses breasts and nipples with gentle squeezes. Eventually though, lips separate. The woman mewls her disappointment and Salomé can't help a quiet giggle.

Like the young woman had before, Salomé finds each erogenous zone, but spends much longer at them. Her hands continue caressing the woman's nipples until one gets replaced by lips, tongue and careful teeth. The hand replaced by mouth goes on its own teasing journey, exploring the slightly convex surface of the woman's abdomen before a brief tease of a very wet slit. Another cute mewl occurs when the hand moves on, exploring the wonders of full, smooth, muscular ass flesh and tender places of her inner thighs.

Only when the digital caresses move lower, to the knees and calves, does Salomé's mouth follow a similar path the hand has gone. Fingers do remain to caress nipples. The quick teasing kiss of clit with a dab at it by tongue tip elicits one more frustrated mewl along with an excited shiver. The mouth squeezes ass flesh and teeth nibble. A tongue darts into the anus. The journey across inner thighs and calves is quicker than the usual exploration has been, and soon Salomé's mouth reaches toes. Each gets suckled, which always brings unexpected thrills, especially the big toes on which Salomé lingers.

But not too long, because Salomé has to sacrifice nipple caresses, too far to reach, and she feels she needs to keep her lover at a certain plateau of pleasure. So the journey moves the other direction, upwards, with kisses and licks along inner legs and thighs, and a hand approaching the woman's needy center.

Everything reaches where the woman wants to be reached simultaneously. Fingers slide from anus to clit, ending up pressing just above it at the undulating pubic bone, while another set returns to the nipples and a tongue pierces the anus. While the hand at the pubic bone holds the woman steady, the tongue at last digs into the surface just inside a pussy lip, scooping up plentiful juices. After a teasing graze of the rigid and already vibrating clit, the tongue takes a second pass along the interior of the other lip. But this time it ends its teasing and begins its assault on the woman's clit.

Salomé uses her forehead to keep the woman's motions as still as possible letting the hand free to press a finger, followed by a second and third, deep into her lover's cunt, circling the interior as they thrust in and out. Eventually the longest one finds a rougher patch of flesh just beneath the pubic bone and rubs with ever increasing fervor. Matching it, her lips and tongue become ever more aggressive on the clit.

Sometimes Salomé continues to tease, letting the woman approach orgasm, ending up right at its gate, before easing off. This time she knows she has teased enough, and with a harsh twist of a nipple and a faster and harder rub of the g-spot, and a great suck and faster dabbing at the clit, she sends her lover into a convulsive climax, arching and shivering and shaking, mouth and eyes and nostrils wide, breath held, moans and exclamations silenced. Salomé knows the silence, where often would be a scream heard throughout the village, reveals a climax of a most profound intensity that often leaves her lover unconscious. This was one of those. Looking at flushed cheeks on her completely relaxed lover, she sees the woman at her most beautiful.

"Oomph," she grunts, her pussy suddenly full of cock. Hands grip her small, hanging breasts. A breath enters her right ear.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" the breath contains.

"Yes. Fuck me," Salomé replies to the young chief. He does, as hard as she demands, demands repeated often until he pummels her at maximum speed.

The wife awakes and smiles at her two lovers early in the fucking. "Oh no," she exclaims when Salomé recommences cunnilingus and nipple squeezing. Several minutes later, as if on command by the immortal, all three reach climax simultaneously. The chief grunts. Salomé's last big moan is muffled. But the wife's scream seems to shake the walls of the hut.

As if on cue, the chief's two other beautiful wives enter the hut, each bearing wide eyed babies. One turns her attention to her mother's nipple. The mother is the youngest of the three wives, with two years since menarche and an intelligence nearly matching the first wife's, keeping suitors away as if waiting to be claimed by the future and now present chief. The other, looking fondly at the threesome, is oldest by several years, a widow who has been cursed with infertility and blamed superstitiously for her husband's death, but whom the chief's wife finds to be both libidinous and naturally and ironically maternal, with an earthy intelligence and maturity that fills a gap in the more cerebral intelligence and almost childlike playfulness of her fellow wives. She hands the first wife's son to his mother. The precocious child embraces his mother's neck while kissing her warm cheek, his infectious giggle seeming to complete the much appreciated effort of cheering her up.

She giggles in response to her adorable son. "Gods, how perfect," she says both to him and to her fellow wife. "I know what you two want," she says to both wives, slipping out from under Salomé's mouth and sitting up. "You can welcome Salomé home with our husband."

"But... ," the oldest starts.

The first wife giggles again. "Believe me, I've been well taken care of."

The oldest shrugs. "If you insist," and takes her place on the bed, pulling Salomé up into her arms. After enjoying the flavor of her fellow wife's juices on Salomé's wet face, lapping it up like a cat, her lips seal with Salomé's and their tongues duel while pubic bones rub together. The oldest wife's hands squeeze Salomé's amazing ass, helping the friction.

With her movement up the bed, the chief's penis, flaccid, has slipped out of Salomé's saturated pussy. The youngest wife licks her lips at the sight of the cum filled vessel. Seeing this, the first wife suggests to her fellow wife and Salomé, "Move lower on the bed and spread your legs."

They do, and soon the tempting pussy reaches a place close enough for the youngest wife to enjoy. The first wife helps her to sit on the floor, the baby still sucking away at the breast, and the young woman begins to sup, fingers added, rubbing into both adjacent pussies.

The first wife watches, excited, but more waiting for the child to finish her meal. Once done, she lifts the baby against her chest, burps her and sits back to focus exclusively on the sexy scene before her. She has two babies in her arms and three lovers in her sight and, with the incredible climaxes recently experienced, the first absolutely magnificent, she has never been so content.

Her husband soon joins the tableau, his penis slowly hardening helped by his fist. He brings it to where he can get it the most attention. Two sets of lips. Two talented tongues. His wife and his lover have no problem with a cock interrupting their kiss. In fact they start the shared fellatio by kissing around its nob, tongues licking it instead of playing together. The shaft receives the same attention. Its thickening and hardening speaks of great success.

Kisses become less frequent as each mouth takes turns holding the glans within it and sucking. Salomé ends up taking most of the cock sucking time, having the added skill of sending it deep into her throat.

Not wanting to cum in a mouth, the chief removes his penis from her throat and contemplates the scene.

"Get behind them and fuck them both," his favorite wife suggests. He does so, replacing his youngest wife, who places his cock at the ready opening of his oldest wife pussy, and he sinks in slowly, all the way to the end. The woman's pussy is by far the tightest of the three, only matching Salomé's, and Salomé's only his favorite of the two in an extra added heat. Even the muscle action of the two squeezing around his glans and shaft are nearly equal. He of course only lets Salomé know of his preference. Even with that advantage, he still prefers fucking his first wife because emotions add significantly to the pleasure, but why cause any rifts when unnecessary?

The youngest doesn't let herself be separate from the action. She caresses breasts and clits and balls. She guides her husband's cock from one pussy to the other. Her husband shows his gratitude by bringing her perky breasts to his mouth and rubbing his fingers against her clit.

As only due, the oldest wife receives the gift of his ejaculate, moaning at the heat of it, letting it send her into her own climax.

The cum slut of the wives, though the first wife has a fondness for it as well, as soon as his flaccid penis withdraws, the youngest sucks up the viscous liquids. Not to be left out of orgasms, Salomé uses her superhuman strength to lift the youngest into a sort of sixty-nine position so her mouth can expertly coax the youth into a nice big cum. She actually has one too, since she has sat her pussy onto the oldest wife's mouth, and the youngest, moments after recovering, brings the oldest one a nice orally induced cum as well.

After recovering, with the chief and Salomé at the center and the first wife beside Salomé, everyone lies together, the infants crawling about on naked, sated flesh.

Leaning on her elbow, the oldest wife looks at Salomé and the first wife. "Why are you sad?" she asks them.

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