Chapter 4: Angel breaks her vows

Angel sat at her dressing table and gazed into the mirror. She was preparing herself for tonight's visit to Igwe Orizu and his philosophy circle. Philosophy, however, was not on her mind. Even now she could feel her body tingling in anticipation, and guilt was on the forefront of her mind.

She was safely and happily married. Her husband loved her, and she loved him. They had three fun filled children, and she should be setting an example to them. Instead all she could think about was Igwe's cock and how good it had felt inside her! A black man! Her father would have a fit if he knew. His inbuilt racism would be appalled if he knew his beloved daughter was sitting here mooning over a black cock and the pleasure it was capable of giving her. But she was married. She shouldn't be thinking like this. Movement in the garden caught her eye. A pair of bee-eaters seemed to be competing with a pair of sunbirds to enjoy one of the gardens many water filled stone bird-baths.

She paused for a moment to watch the fluttering birds swoop and swirl in the bright sunlight. Admiring their bright cheerful plumage. Then as if reminded she turned back to the mirror. She had her own plumage to prepare.

She looked at herself in the mirror. A beautiful woman met her gaze and stared back to her. Was she lucky to be beautiful, or cursed? She did not need many touch's to enhance her perfection. Knowing she was beautiful, and men desired her had never provided her with any confidence or security.

Differentiating between who loved her, and who lusted after her had been a confusing period in her younger years and she had been happy to attach herself to Mark. Mark was rock solid, dependable and adored her, qualities that reminded her of her father. It had been easy to cling on to Mark.

She loved him. Which made the behaviour of her body unaccountable. She sat before her mirror looking into her calm eyes. Eyes that did not reflect the treacherous nature of her body, which was tingling in anticipation of what might happen after the philosophy circle finished, but before her husband arrived to take her home.

What might happen when Igwe Orizu turned his attention on her alone and took hold of her? A spasm rippled through her pussy as she sat there, and she bit her lip. A spasm of guilt overwhelmed at her body's treacherous reaction.

She loved Mark, but Igwe was going to take hold of her tonight and when he did she would melt.

The answer was not to go.

To not see him again.

Her marriage was important. Her children were important. Her faith in her god was important, and god's laws stated that you did not break your marriage vows.

Angel nibbled her lip.

The idea of not going was a torment... a torment that tore her soul, writhed her heart, and filled her with fear.

She would go, she wanted to go, she wanted... and she hung her head in her hands. She was confused. What did she want?

She knew what Igwe wanted. He was despite all his remarkable charm, intellect, and wealth, just like all the other black men in Africa. He wanted to put his hands on her white curvy body, to touch and caress, to strip away her clothes and mount her in a frenzy of lust and desire.

She cursed. She had just soaked her panties! She would have to change them before she left.

To allow him to do so would be to break her marriage vows! Would be adultery! If she went to his villa tonight she would not be able to resist him. She knew that. She also new that the thought of not going tonight was a torment she could not bear.

The first time had been an accident. The second time she had resisted him, and he had taken her anyway. To see him again, would have only one result. She could not kid herself that if she went to him again then the third time would be anything other than a willing submission. A conscious a deliberate betrayal of her husband and the vows she made before God all those years before.

Those vows still counted. They still meant something.

But he was black! A tremor ran through her. The local white community ostracized white women who took African lovers. They were still traumatised by the guerrilla war. By fear of what the new Black African government might do.

They had been right to fear. Certain Africans were the new elite. With political power, and legislative power, they were increasing their control of the previously white dominated economy. There was now a growing core of extremely rich African businessman and Igwe was one of those.

These men had seized the country. Gained political power, then economic power. All taken from an aggrieved white community. They were now taking the next step. They had set their sights on taking the white women away from the remaining white men.

Not that Angela thought along those lines,

Angel had no great ties to the local white community. She was English, and the wife of a professional Englishman. They had been in Zimbabwe six months. In six months she had seen a new world.

A world were white women broke with convention. In which they took African men as lovers.

She had not seen Igwe's cock. She had not touched it. She had felt it push up inside her. She had felt its hot length pulse and throb inside her. She had been held in place while it thrust and surged up and down inside her. Had felt that extra-ordinary experience of Igwe's orgasm and that shooting hot rushing sperm fountain up inside her. Something she had not particularly experienced with Mark.

She wanted to experience that cock again. It was big and thick and long and she wanted it! She wanted to be stretched and pummelled. She wanted to be fucked by him!

The bedroom door opened and Mark walked in.

'Hi honey. Sorry I'm late.'

Flustered Angel flapped, but Mark did not notice. Throwing his suitcase down by the door, he went through to the en-suite bathroom.

Angel gathered her thoughts and looked back into the mirror, a few touches were all that was needed.

When Mark re-appears Angel was standing and facing him. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Wow, honey, you look absolutely gorgeous."

A pang of doubt and fear overwhelmed Angel. After all these years her husband could still confound her. The love and admiration in his voice was so heartfelt. How could she do this to him?

She couldn't!

She was resolved.

All her musing and pondering evaporated in an intense feeling of love for her husband. She could feel the warmth of his heart, and her lust for Igwe evaporated in a warm glow.

"Are you ready?"

"Ready?" she looked confused for a moment.

"I am sorry I am late, but I appreciate you will be late for your philosophy session if we don't get a move on."

"Oh, well... I am thinking of not going."

"Oh nonsense, honey, these last few sessions have done you the world of good."

"Well perhaps they have been enough."

"You know what Margaret said." Margaret had been the clinical psychologist that Angel had seen after her relapse. "There will be no sudden cures, you need regularity, a pattern in your life. These philosophy sessions are part of the pattern of stability and you get to meet all the other women. I don't mind and you need to have more social contacts."

"Well yes, but perhaps tonight we could have a quiet night at home."

" Honey, we have quiet nights at home most nights. Tonight is your philosophy meeting and we both know that you need to keep this up. Now get your things and we will be off."

"Mark..." Angela's voice trailed off as her husband rushed off up the corridor.

God! He did not know what he was doing! If she went to the philosophy session tonight she would let Igwe fuck her. She would not be strong enough to resist the dominant African male.

She followed Mark up the corridor and into the kitchen where he was helping himself to a cold fruit juice from the fridge.

"I'm really not sure about tonight. I think I should stay at home."

"Angel, honey, I love you, and we both know how you have perked up and been so much more cheerful. The last two times you came home positively glowing."

Angel stared at her husband. The last two times I came home thoroughly fucked you stupid man! She suppressed the retort. She did not want to hurt him. Her hesitation was her undoing. Mark not realising her dark thoughts, took her hand and led her out to the car.

He seemed to be oblivious to the turmoil in her heart. Would her husband be in such a rush to get to Igwe's mansion, if he knew she had taken her panties off and not replaced them? Did he realise that under her blouse she wore no bra?

Would he turn back if she told him that unless he turned back Igwe would fuck her tonight?

She looked across at her husband, who was concentrating on the bends in the road. Why did life end up so confusing? She loved him but he was driving her to meet a black man who would use her sexually and she wanted that, and yet she didn't!

At Igwe's villa she turned to Mark, as he helped her out of the car. The cars of some the other attending women were already there.

"I'll pick you up at 9.30 then," Mark looked at her questioningly.

"Can you make it 10.30 tonight. It's going to be a longer session. That was one of the reasons I was unsure about coming tonight."

Mark looked surprised, but quickly nodded.

He watched as Angel turned and strode for the villa.

Her thoughts were otherwise. The philosophy session finished at its usual time of 8.30. If what was going to happen tonight was fated to happen she wanted the time to make love properly.

Her hips swung, her shapely legs stretched out, while between her legs her pussy twitched and throbbed in anticipation of what was to come.

"Honey!"

She turned to Mark who was still by the car.

"Knock'em dead honey!" She smiled and waved.

Mark stared. As his wife had turned the evening sun had caught behind her, and it was as though her top had become see-through. Her full firm breast had been outlined, the sun's rays seeming to heighten their perfection.

Angel had not been wearing a bra! That was so unusual. He quickly dismissed that thought, and jumped in the car he had five minutes to get home.

Rubber burned as he accelerated away.

At home he grabbed some cans of beer from the fridge and flicked on the TV. The picture flickered into life, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The TV service was so unreliable. The familiar tune of BBC's Match of the Day came from the box. Zimbabwe TV was relaying live one of the semi-finals of the FA Cup tonight!

He relaxed in the armchair. Peace and quite at home, cans of beer and football. Could life be better!

At the very same moment he took his first sip of beer. Angel had found Igwe making preparations in the kitchen. She stepped close to him and he took her in his arms and pressed her close.

As Mark enjoyed the first sip of his beer, Igwe savoured the firm pressure of Angel's full breast crushed against him as he bent to kiss soft welcoming lips.

The evening alternated between tormenting slowness, and heart stopping moments when she found Igwe's attention on her. She silently cursed the presence of the other women and started to notice how they all seemed to hang on every word Igwe said. Her previous sessions she had not paid proper attention to the other women but now she noticed more.

Janet was wearing a low cut top and every time Igwe spoke to her she leaned forward. Was that deliberate? Why was Mary making such an issue about her husband being away for a few days, before darting her eyes to Igwe to see if he had taken note. Was that a secret invitation? Susan on the other hand had just passed a photo of her 15 year old daughter to Igwe. Was it really appropriate to give an African a photo of your teenage daughter in a bikini! Angel seethed as Igwe spent longer than necessary looking at the photo.

"She's arriving next week for her six week summer holiday," Susan gushed. Stupid woman Angel thought, and then her heart spun as Susan reached forward casually resting her hand on Igwe's leg! Was Susan making an advance, and using the photo of her daughter as an inducement? Surely not! She briefly thought of her own lovely daughter's and how Igwe might react to them. She swore to herself never to let him near them. Rebecca was safely in England and would be for months, but she had seen how African men were already responding to 14 year old Amanda's developing nubile charms. She would have dreamed of showing a picture of her in a bikini to a middle aged African.

African men were incorrigible and very determined when a young white girl came to their attention.

Laura at 22 years old was the youngest of the women present, she moved in her chair and her split skirt slipped exposing a long length of shapely leg. Had she deliberately taken too long to cover herself?

Suddenly the nature of this philosophy session had changed in Angel's mind. This was not about philosophy it was about female competition for a dominant male. She became alarmed.

She wanted Igwe, but doubts and confusion prayed in her emotions. She stood and moved by the window. The others turned and looked at her wondering what she was doing. She saw momentary confusion on their faces, then annoyance. She had Igwe's full attention now. As she had guessed correctly, the final sun's rays shone through her top silhouetting her breasts.

She had no need of a bra. Her breasts were full, firm and proudly upstanding, and Igwe was looking at them with admiration in his eyes. She smiled and sipped her tea by the window continuing the pretence of looking out.

Confidence restored she returned to her seat. She noticed the smile creasing the eyes of Igwe and smiled herself.

At 8.30 Igwe called out for his bodyguard to bring the coffee, and Angel's heart raced. She found herself breathing hard and tried to calm herself. Laura left first as though oblivious to the others. Angel felt a pang as she watched her shapely form, hips swinging head for the door. She would never be 22 years old again!

Janet was saying her goodbye and was standing to close to Igwe. Those barely enclosed breasts seemed to brush casually against Igwe. Angel cursed her as a hussy.

Mary was next to leave, making too much fuss about being home all alone over the next few days. Then Susan was next to Igwe pressing into his hand the photo of her teenage daughter and asking if he wanted to meet her when she came over for her holidays. Angel wandered what sort of woman used a photo of her own daughter to sexually tempt a middle aged African man!

Then as Susan was being shown out the door. Angel was momentarily alone in Igwe's living room.

Her heart started to pound. Her skin was all tingly. She felt hot and flushed as her blood raced. She had moments before he returned. Her hand rose and she started to unbutton her blouse.

Igwe set aside the picture of Susan's pretty daughter. He would certainly ensure the girl had an unforgettable holiday. He made a note in his diary for the next few nights Mary's husband was away. Laura had slipped him a note that she and her husband would be expecting him on Saturday.

He walked into the living room and stopped in his tracks.

Angel was standing there naked.

Her full and shapely body exposed to his view for what he realised was the first time, and what a magnificent shapely body she had! His last two beddings of her had been fumbled affairs!

He gazed rapt. His eyes raking over those magnificent full firm breasts that betrayed no hint of any sag. They belonged on a much younger woman! Her waist was still pronounced, over rounded hips, but her legs were breathtaking. Long, full, shapely, enhanced by the golden tan that covered the whole of her body he noted. She must have been sunbathing naked. A surprising thought for a woman he already appreciated was sexually naïve and conservative.

All the more surprising that she was standing there naked in his living room. His eyes finally ceased devouring that magnificent example of English womanhood and looked into her eyes. Behind that classic beauty he recognised the fear and insecurity that seemed at timed to overwhelm this English wife.

Wife of a white man, and Igwe smiled. Taking the wife of another man was considered in his tribe to be the supreme proof of manhood. Taking the wife of a white man was so far beyond the dreams of so many African men.

Now Angel stood naked in his living room.

She had started nervously biting her lip waiting for his response.

Stripping naked in advance of the return of this black African was probably been the bravest, scariest thing she had ever done.

Now she stood there nervously waiting for a response.

Igwe let her wait, happy to feed that insecurity. It would help him to mould her to suit his needs, and those of his friends...

"Please," her voice broke through her nerves. "Take me to your bed!"

Igwe grinned and reached for her hand.

Angel's heart skipped and jumped as Igwe took her by the hand to his bedroom. She felt his hand in hers, and realised it was the first time her hand had been held by anyone other than her husband in nearly 18 years.

Igwe's hand was warm, and strong. She could feel the strength of his grip, but also the care taken not to crush her own slender hand, in his obvious strength. He had consideration, she realised.

Their last two sessions of lovemaking had been frantic feverish couplings. If she was going to betray her husband, and the vows she made before God and his altar, then she wanted a more memorable experience than the previous 'ruts'. Exciting as they had been!

She allowed herself to be led to his bedroom, and heart seemed ready to beat its way out of her ribcage. She felt no cold walking naked in the warm African evening, but her nipples had sprouted erect.

Thickening with heat and blood her nipples were aroused. She flushed at the thought that if he looked Igwe would be able to see how excited she had become.

He opened an oak panelled door, and led Angel in and she stopped dead in her tracks. To describe the room as opulent would be an understatement. Her attention was riveted on the large canopied bed. Dark, varnished, carved oak posts marked each corner of the bed. Supported by intervening beams, purple cloth seemed to shine, and she wondered if it was velvet. It was trimmed in gold with tasselled bobs hanging in a fringe.

The bed itself was, like Igwe, huge. The coverlet was light and airy as befitted the hot climate. To Angel's surprise it was a gaily, coloured panorama of African flowers.

Igwe led her to it and she happily followed, momentarily distracted by the sheer luxury of the furnishings.

The coverings were turned down and the sheets seemed to shine.

Then Igwe's arm swept around her waist and pulled her around into his arms. Angel's searched his face but as his lips descended on hers, they closed.

She liked the kiss. She felt safe enveloped in his arms. His lips were hot and demanding, and she surrendered. Pressing her naked bodily firmly against his she wondered at her boldness. Her aroused nipples were crushed to the coarseness of his clothing betrayed the sexual excitement that fuelled her own desires.

Her lips parted and the she greedily thrust her tongue forward for attention. Her black lover was quick to join the duel with his own stronger, thicker tongue. She squirmed in his arms as she surrendered her mouth, in recognition of his alarming demanding male power.

Butterflies flew from her stomach, and a tingling sensation flushed her skin. She jumped as his hands cupped the soft peach like curves of her naked bottom. Firm hands that gripped, squeezed, and pressed her against his body.

Igwe enjoyed the soft, warm, round curves in his hand. This eager white wife had a full well rounded derriere and he relished the soft, smooth white flesh that had never been stroked and fondled by black hands until his own cupped them.

Her lips were hot and acquiescent as he kissed the exciting, beautiful wife of a white man. He enjoyed their softness. Tracing the sweet lips with his tongue, he sought out her tongue and enjoyed a brief by-play. Delighted in the eager response.

She was hot!

Aroused and excited and he did not care the reason why.

He could feel those full, firm breasts pressed hard against, and his cock hardened and lengthened in preparation for mounting her.

His hands pulled her hips into his loins. He could feel the momentary shock, and brief resistance as she felt his hardening cock, then the resistance melted and she was pushing back pressing against his loins and wriggling her hips in heat against him!

Wanton hussy, she was so excited now he could do as he liked with her, but he wanted to cherish and savour the breaking of this churchgoing, sexually conservative wife.

He wanted her begging for more, wanted her in heat for his cock, and her thinking addled. He had months to train her, and his friends would help.

Tonight must be special, a night remembered with unalloyed joy. A night this woman will remember for the rest of her life and bring her back to his bed time and time again.

The kinky sex can come later.

With regret his hands left her bottom, much as he wanted to pull those cheeks apart and stuff a thumb up her back passage, if only to see the shock and alarm on her pretty face.

He wanted to push her too her knees and bury his cock down her throat and watch her struggle, eyes popping, riven by fear as his cock throbbed in her throat.

He restrained his natural impulses.

He tried to imagine Angel on her knees and wanting to please him, wanting to take his cock in her throat. Wanted to see the fear in her eyes as she watched the belt in his hand, and knowing that failure would bring pain.

All in good time... that could wait.

His hands instead caressed the soft skin of her back. His fingers stroked and moulded the warm white skin. If only he could do this in front of his old white boss. It would have torn the soul from the former white farmer that he had worked for so long ago.

He would have hated seeing a white woman in the arms of a 'black'.

He pushed her away, and Angel stepping backwards surprised tripped and fell back on the bed. Startled she started to get up looking at Igwe in surprise. Then she saw him start to unbutton his shirt, and realised he was undressing to join her.

She sank back on the bed and then looked up in further surprise. The underside of the canopy, hidden by the luxurious drapes, was mirrored! Small golden lights were in each corner and shone down on to the bed creating a soft warm glow.

She had never seen or imagined the like before!

As she lay back on the bed yet another surprise awaited her. She found that the shiny sheets felt like cool velvet, and she ran her hands over the silky material.

Satin!

These must be satin sheets!

Never in a million years would she have imagined such luxury existed in this benighted, half starving, landlocked country!

She ran her hands over the sheets and grinned in pleasure and delight.

Igwe kept his eyes on her as he undressed.

She was a vision of curvy, healthy loveliness. An English rose for him to pluck, savour and despoil.

As his hands worked his clothes he enjoyed the sight of her sprawled on his bed. Even now she kept her legs together, one half crossing the other as though protecting the shrine of her womanhood. Her natural shyness was still present even after 18 years of marriage.

Married to a man who was not here to enjoy the sight.

Her breasts were full and firm and even lying on her back they stood firmly proud of her body. Her legs were long and shapely, finely curved. He looked forward to exploring the soft warm inner softness currently hidden.

Her skin seemed to glow with health, and the lights within the canopy of the bed, emphasized the golden tan she had acquired over the six months since she had arrived.

She was soft, white, and beautiful, and naked in his bed. He grinned.

He stripped away the last of his clothes, and watched her eyes widen in shock, as they focused on his loins. He walked around the bed and her wide eyes followed locked on his cock. He was used to this reaction among women, especially white women.

She would worry about the size of his cock now that she had seen it, and that worry would add to his own pleasure when he entered her. Most women seemed to worry about the size of his cock the first time they saw it. Despite such concerns very few women tried to stop him entering them.

On the far side of the bed he leaned over and kissed those soft lips. One hand caressed her arm the other cupped her cheek, while his lips kissed soft parted lips.

He was gentle with her, considerate and comforting as his eyes glanced across at those full, white breasts. He restrained his desire to grasp and hold them. There will be a time when this woman would be impatient to feel his strong grasping hands fondling those breast, but now he concentrated on reassuring and arousing this nervous pretty white woman.

His tongue traced those soft cherubic lips. When her tongue tentatively peeked out, he caught it with his own and soon their tongues had begun that magic duel of love and lust.

He could see from the rise and fall of those magnificent mounds how excited Angel was becoming. He raised his head and looked down into her eyes, she gazed back at him breathing heavily.

His hand caressing her arm moved across and cupped a firm white mound. He enjoyed the full, firmness. Its heat, and the increased fluttering excitement he could feel in this aroused woman, pleased him. He lightly stroked the underside, then his thumb slid over the already thickening nipple. He watched Angel as her white teeth nibbled her lower lip, as she tried to control her response.

This delightfully attractive woman was like a musical instrument and he was happy to play tunes with his fingers, lips and tongue that would drive her to sexual ecstasy. Married 19 years it had probably been years since her husband had paid such detailed attention.

He lowered his head and licked lightly at the aroused tip of a nipple, enjoying the jerky excited response. He played his tongue around the aureole, then his lips closed over the hard nub. He lightly sucked as his tongue licked, and he held Angel as she squirmed and wriggled in an excited response. He cupped her other breast. Held it more firmly and squeezed. As he licked one nipple he looked across as his free hand squeezed, fondled, and grasped her other breast. He enjoyed the contrast of his black hand, clasping that full round white breast.

Angel whimpered in excited restrained pleasure beneath his working hands and tongue.

He saw that her other nipple had also become fully aroused, a little mountain peak of sexual excitement waiting for his attention. His head rose from one wet excited nipple and descended on fresh untouched pink peak.

The aroused pink nipple was urgently thrust into his mouth as he lowered his head over it.

His hand now free stroked lower, caressing the soft womanly body of another man's wife, of a white man's wife. He suppressed a grin as lips and tongue worked.

His fingers slowly circled and stroked her abdomen. He could feel the excited fluttering within and wondered at the nervous sexual excitement of this woman that only months ago had seemed untouchable, unapproachable.

She was ready and he stood.

Angela lying on the bed was riding an emotional rollercoaster. The sweet sensation of lips and tongue had been exquisite. The hot, wet licking and tonguing had driven her senses into overdrive. The strong pungent smell of an aroused African male pervaded her nose and she breathed it deep.

Igwe was not by any measure a particularly handsome man and stripped of his sophisticated clothing he revealed a heavy stocky body that reminded her of the strength and physical power of her father. Like her father Igwe was a successful and well-connected businessmen. She shuddered to be making such comparisons. Her racist father would have had a seizure if he had known his precious daughter was lying naked in a black man's bed.

Angel's thighs closed tight at the thought of her father's disapproval.

Igwe stood and Angel's eyes followed as he rose. In her position, flat on her back, in his bed, Angel looked up in shock at the sight of Igwe's aroused cock!

She had seen horses with smaller cocks!

Her thighs locked even tighter as though a magnet had been activated between her knees.

'Noooo... ', her words were involuntary.

Her eyes remained locked on that monstrous appendage. At a guess she estimated its length at eleven inches and shuddered. She had thought her husband's seven inches was too long...

It was not just its length. It was thick as well, much thicker than her husbands. Her husband's circumscribed cock had a thick mushroom cap that made it seem thicker that it was but Igwe's rampant masculinity was thicker, far thicker.