The African Ch. 03

The Beautiful Black Bull Part III

A crackling sound broke the almost unbearable silence that had surrounded me for several minutes. It was the cracking of wood, its cellular structure bursting in the blazing heat. Flames leapt from the stacked log and licked at the sooty glass of the fireplace cassette. Warmth flowed across my lap and the woody scent of the pressed briquettes filled my nose. The living room was unlit. Only the cozy glow of the fire flickered through the room. Dark and ghostly shadows twitched on the bright walls, seeming to greet the impending event with a ritual dance of joy.

I sat in a leather chair. The mental theater in my head was ablaze as I looked at our large, sprawling and still unoccupied couch. Three long-stemmed wine glasses stood on a round table of twisted wood. Next to the wine glasses was a bulbous carafe already filled with a liter of red wine. The preparations for a conspiratorial rendezvous were complete. Only the participants were still missing. I looked at my watch.

"8:18 p. m.!"

As if strapped to a rack, my impatience became unbearable. I moaned quietly to myself. The butterflies in my stomach had reached a critical point. Normally, it would only be a fifteen minute walk from the community center to our front door. Nicole and Aman should have been here by now. Maybe they were chatting and strolling along, not keeping track of the time. Or they had made a detour. Meanwhile, it was raining and the wind was blowing again. Not the best weather for a long walk. Unless...

A bright bing signaled the arrival of another message. My eyes went to the screen of the smartphone in my hand and I saw the banner with Nicole's name on it lighting up the display.

"Took shelter at the bus stop,... waiting for the rain to die down a bit... ;-*"

Thoughtfully, I looked into the fireplace for inspiration. My imagination spread its wings. In my mind's eye, the image of a nocturnal retreat appeared. I saw the light of a street lamp not far from the bus stop falling down the wet street. A yellowish, hazy glow that fell scattered in the dripping rain. Only a fraction of it made it into the shelter.

In the twilight of that shelter, I vaguely made out the shape of my wife. She was leaning backwards against a colossal body. Black, muscular arms wrapped around her narrow waist like strong tree roots. The giant possessively pulled her slender body toward him. A bright grin hovered in the darkness and sank into the crook of Nicole's neck. The tender, playful secrecy of two bodies that had been circling each other since their first meeting had begun to come together tonight. A married woman and mother opening up to her Black Bull while her husband was with her in spirit.

The beep of an incoming call pulled me out of the wake of these stimulating daydreaming sequences. My wife's name shone on the display again, this time as a caller. I answered the call with a swipe of my finger across the screen.

"Hey, sweetie..."

Atmospheric noise sprayed through the ether. Nicole's light voice floated through it, just as the dark murmur of her companion. There was no response to my greeting. In fact, it seemed as if my wife had accidentally activated her cell phone...

"Did someone say something about cuddling Aman?" Nicole's voice admonished with a playful undertone.

"Your clothes are wet and you're shivering, Mrs. Weber! I'm just warming your body up!"

When I realized what I had just heard, red-hot blood pulsed in my temples. A duplicate of my fantasy transferred into reality. In the middle of our village, a transition of a highly longed-for reality materialized. Despite of the bad weather and the darkness, it was a risky maneuver. But the risk of discovery only fueled the butterflies in my stomach. An icy sting stabbed into my heart. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and focused on their voices, which drifted through the loud background noise.

"Sure! You are so selfless, Aman!"

"No! I never was! Honestly, I've wanted to do this all along!"

"You're very sure of yourself!"

"Should I stop cuddling?"

"Maybe you should!... Many people in this village know Frank and me. If they see the two of us here like this, they'll wonder what's going on!"

"You mean it would ruin your reputation to hang out with a refugee?"

"Cuddling with a refugee as a married woman! Yes! It would definitely ruin my reputation"

"And you are afraid of that...?"

Spellbound I listened to this exchange of words, but for a moment all I could hear was the rustling of clothes. I turned up the volume on my cell phone.

Restlessly, I looked into the swirling flames of our fireplace. Finally, I heard my wife's answer and the cold sting in my chest became one big thrust of an icy lance that drove the sweet poison of jealousy deep into my heart.

"Yes, Aman, it worries me! It worries me a lot! But your closeness is more than wonderful. I hope the darkness keeps prying eyes away from us.

"I know you like my body! I like yours too! It's soft and so fucking... pale!"

"Be very careful with your slippery fingers, Aman!... Just keep me warm. Be a giver not a taker... my African beauty!"

Nicole's words revealed a sincere longing that carried through the background noise. I cringed inwardly. Jealousy pecked at my chest with iron claws, while excitement pierced my infested mind. To hear the tender sound of her voice, directed at another man, almost drove me crazy. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and sighed, digesting the lovingly whirring whiplashes spoken by my wife's voice.

"I've never been a giver to women! I was always a taker and they all liked it! I'm pretty sure that little slut deep inside your innocent white soul would like it too!"

"But I'm not..."

"Not what? A slut? Days ago you twisted your nasty tongue on my sweating body, behind your hubby's back... and you enjoyed it. Now you want me to continue cuddling, despite the risk of being watched. You may be a little princess, but you are a lecherous bitch too... and that is the truth!"

"You are so rude!"

"I am straightforward! I think you like that as well! Your hubby can touch your heart!... I just want to give this extraordinary pale body what it craves... A merciless, never-ending fuck!"

"Fool! I said it will never happen!"

"Maybe,... maybe not! Last time I felt a special connection between our bodies, and now I feel the same. You must have fantasized about me fucking you. Are you going to deny it?"

Aman's words almost drove me mad. They sublimated this fetish in my head with devastating effect and etched it into my sentiment. I had expected him to lure Nicole, but I wasn't prepared for the blunt and aggressive frontal attack. My wife's voice, however, sounded as if she had been cornered. With good reason, Aman was right. In our erotic fantasies he played a mayor role. I waited anxiously for my wife's response.

The rustling of clothes crackled again through the speaker of my cell phone. Wind and rain added to the noise. Finally, I could make out a bright whisper scattered among all the background noises. Like a faint echo fragmenting in a vibrating roar, unable to reveal its message. I cursed inwardly!

"You have nothing to be ashamed of!" I heard Aman say, "You're just being honest! I have been fantasizing about you since the first German lesson! Now we know where we stand!"

A pleasantly light sigh broke through the background noise. I could hear it clearly. Aman's words and my wife's sigh fueled my fetish to the highest pitch. The sweet poison of jealousy and lust expanded my veins and my mental cinema was in full swing. I unzipped my pants and began to rub myself.

"But don't get your hopes up! It will never happen in real life! I love Frank! I really love him! Let's get that straight!"

"I know you love your hubby! Don't worry! I'm not interested in your heart.

"So! What are you interested in?" I heard Nicole's voice ask hesitantly and heard another of her sweet sighs.

"Knowing your rules, I just want to be your secret masseur!"

"And you really want to make me believe that you will behave?"

"I will accept your rules and abide by whatever arrangement you propose. We will have our "massage thingy"... behind your hubby's back. Nothing else! Unless... you beg for more!"

"We're not going to decide on a 'massage thingy' if you can't keep your slippery fingers under control! They're too tight right now, Aman!"

Nicole's admonition sounded more like amusement than irritation. My wife's unmistakable moaning sounded again and my arousal spread far and wide in my abdomen.

"Oh... fuck!... stop it... stop it please, Aman... please!"

"I just want to heat you up a bit! You're still shivering."

"The... the heat... is fine!... Don't turn it into a melting pot!... Aman... don't... fuck... stop it, damn it!"

Nicole's note of protest was punctuated by numerous small sighs and gasps, softened by her breathing. The effect fizzled and the stop-word degenerated into a half-agreement. My mental cinema flickered as I imagined what mischief his "slippery fingers" were up to. This moment plowed through my mind in a wild frenzy, so completely out of my control that my deep lust pumped even more intensely through my veins. I felt a devouring monster deep inside me, in whose greedy maw every red line we had ever drawn threatened to disappear forever. But suddenly something seemed to change and I heard a startled command from my wife.

"Take your fingers out, Aman! Someone's coming!"

The rummaging in the clothes stopped and I heard dark, booming voices approaching, their style of speech strange and chewed. They were male voices.

"Hey Ms. Weber! How are you?" one of the newcomers shouted in broken language. The other voice added something in an African language and laughed.

I recognized the amused grin that lingered in those edgy words, somehow it seemed familiar to me. It was the exuberant way he pronounced the words "Frau Weber". I was sure that I had met this man recently. I frantically searched my memory and finally found what I was looking for. It was one of the two Sudanese men we met when we were at my parents' house on Saturday where we had spent the afternoon on the playground with our little Maya. I let out a squezzed sigh and started pacing nervously up and down the living room while Nicole gave another thunderous command.

"Stop it, Aman! Right now! Stop it right now. I don't like them watching us do this!"

"Really? I can't believe that... I'm sure somewhere deep down you'd like some spectators.... but... suit yourself!"

Anger and excitement whipped through my troubled mind as I listened to Aman's provocative words. My mental cinema sent an incredibly beguiling flood of images through my mind. Three black, sexually hungry men, a young wife and mother. Bulging lips in the twilight of the shelter of a bus stop, alternating with digging tongues stroking over those sensual red lips. Hands unbuttoning jackets and pants. Fingers that looked like crawling spider legs exploring every inch of that bare, warm skin as that pale beauty groaned, throwing back her head and letting things progress with her eyes closed...

Accusingly, my mind tore that wild fantasy to shreds, remembering the implicit humiliation my wife had just endured. Nicole's words rang in my ears again. "... If you help me balance this longing, Frank, then I don't have to fear it..."

In addition to these words, spoken only a few hours ago, Julia's spirit had just joined them, reciting from her book of poems. "... The restless, haunted soul ignites, twirls around a passion you should not fright! ..." I had promised my wife something and suddenly I was ashamed of my lust. I decided to drive to the bus stop and put an end to the hustle and bustle.

When I reached the front door, I stopped. Aman uttered a few sharp words in his African tongue. They cut through the background noise like brutal blows of an axe and were obviously directed at the two newcomers. He sounded like an officer giving clear instructions to his subordinates, disobeying them would have drastic consequences. I would have liked to know what those strange words uttered by Aman meant. The effect was impressive.

„D ... Don't worry about us. We ... we say nothing! We ... we didn't see anything!" were the stuttered fragments. They dropped through the ether like bombs. The "Hello, Mrs. Weber" voice that had had that exuberant enthusiasm had lost it and now sounded very respectful.

"As you can see, there is no need to worry, my pale beauty. They would take our secret to their grave. Believe me! They will forget everything!"

"We are leaving, Mrs. Weber. We're looking forward to the next lesson. We won't say anything! Never! Please excuse me, I am very sorry!"

"I hope so! Otherwise you will lose your German teacher!" my wife's voice added.

"We don't want to lose you! We promise! Good evening!"

The impending trouble seemed to evaporate. Nicole's heated tone had cooled down. The submissive and stammering words of the two Africans suggested a hasty and almost anxious departure. Aman had probably made an effective threat, the content of which I could only speculate on. I decided not to intervene for the time being and just wait and see how things would turn out.

"I'm not going to be your slut, Aman! If you keep this up, we'll end whatever might have been between us before it even started! Understand?"

"Relax, Mrs. Weber. Nothing happened! These poor friends of mine haven't seen a sexy, lusty woman for many months. They love your pale skin. The whole class does! These two men will be happy for weeks! You did a good thing."

"Don't try to flatter me with compliments, Aman!"

"I'm not doing that! It's just the truth!"

"These two are scared! What did you tell them?"

"I don't want to shock your small, perfect world, Mrs. Weber. The boys won't say anything! That is all that matters!"

"Didn't you say they were your friends?"

"Sort of... yes! But a friend with fear is better than a gossiping friend."

"You're a brutal guy, aren't you?"

"Would that turn you on? Sure it would!"

"It would scare me!"

"I have the impression that it would excite you sexually! But I can reassure you. I rarely bite, and never anyone as beautiful as you! Unless... you want me to bite you a little!"

"Damn! Not my neck... God! Stop it... cheeky bull... Hmmm... Your fingers..."

The rustle of clothes silenced my wife's voice. But my imagination filled the gaps in her answer. I swallowed hard and groaned, feeling like I was on a roller coaster, my stomach hit by the force of the swing. With weak knees, I sank back into the chair, imagining Aman's long, black fingers digging into regions reserved only for me.

"The rain is getting lighter... Oh Fuck!... We... we... should go now before someone else sees us!... Aman... please... stop it... please! ... You are driving me crazy!"

"Are you sure? Your hubby will bother us if we leave now."

"Frank never bothers, and I don't want you to be mean to him! Otherwise, that's it for us! Understand? I'm dead serious, Aman!"

A venomous hiss had broken out of Nicole's suppressed moans. A blissful smile appeared at the corner of my mouth when I heard the force of her words. For several minutes, she had been sighing in the exotic magic of our African neighbor, but her priorities remained unwavering.

Some of her words that hadn't made it through the background noise remained as nagging question marks in my memory. Some quiet concerns arose as I reflected on what I had just listened to on my smartphone. Reason and fetish were battling it out. What if Nicole's desire would eventually get the better of her? What if she became obedient to Aman. A smoldering fruit of tragic finality had begun to gnaw at the periphery of my soul. A dark lust that was as exciting as it was destructive.

"Calm down, Mrs. Weber. Don't worry! I like Frank. He's a very nice guy!"

"I hope you mean what you say! I certainly do! You've already pushed my limits tonight! Enough for today! Let's go! My cheeky bull"

"Cheeky? I take that as a compliment!"

"Go ahead... but think about what I said!"

..........

8:35 p. m.

The deep, booming ring of our doorbell vibrated through the silence. My tension made me jump at the piercing sound. It was time! I heard the mechanical click of the cylinder lock and our front door opened. From outside, gusts of wind blew out of the darkness into the hallway. Rain pured down on the pebbles of our driveway! The clacking of high heels echoed from the hallway into the living room and Nicole's bright voice called out to me.

"Frank? I'm back and we have company!"

I collected myself. I walked toward them with my heart pounding. Voices were lost in the hallway. Fragments of conspiratorial secrecy reached my ears. I remained rooted in the movement and listened intently.

"That was hot! We should have stayed longer," a dark voice whispered.

A stifled chuckle drifted into the low murmur, followed by an admonishing hiss that obviously silenced the throaty roar. I heard a soft whisper.

"Control your fingers, Aman! Otherwise my husband won't agree to any 'massage thingy'!"

"You want to ask him about it? Fuck no! We should keep it between us!"

"I don't want to do it behind his back. Let me try to convince him and now... behave yourself, cheeky bull!"

The secret back and forth between the two made me moan silently. There was hardly anything more lustful to me than the conspiratorial whispers between my wife and her potential lover. I have no idea why it was this aspect in particular that caused such a desire in me. With fireworks burning furiously in my stomach, I walked out into the hallway.

"Hey..." I croaked, swallowing a lump and pumping up my voice, which had lost its suppleness in the tension of my fetish's strangling power. "Hey Sweety!"

Nicole stood in the foyer, unzipping her soaking wet jacket. My eyes jumped to the massive figure behind her, who had just ducked through our doorway and was staring at me with an impenetrable expression. He wore only a light-colored, rain-soaked t-shirt that hung like a transparent rag over his shimmering black muscles. For a moment, it seemed as if gravity was tilting against the front door. His powerful dark face struck me with a smoldering dominance.

"Hey Aman!" I greeted him in a decidedly firm voice. He curled his lips and gave a curt nod.

"Hey Frank!"

His answer seemed forced. Almost a little hostile. Obviously he was struggling with the fact that the tête-à-tête in the bus stop shelter hadn't lasted longer.

Nicole immediately turned to me and gave me a bright smile. She took two quick steps and wrapped her arms around my abdomen. Her body was cold and wet. The updo of her hair was blown apart by the wind. Raindrops were dripping down her dark strands. I looked at her beautiful face. A subtle blush pulsed beneath the wet, pale skin. The blue eyes blazed like an Arctic ice storm that never calmed down.

"You look good!" I remarked with a smile, glancing down at her dripping wet body. "How was your... stopover?"

"Our stopover?... Hmm..."

Nicole's voice faltered. She let me fidget for a moment, carrying the rising tension into a short break for taking a breath. A wry grin crept to the corners of her mouth. Finally, she gently placed her lips on my ear and breathed a crackling sound of loving torture that snaked its way into my mind.

"Damp and very hot I would say.... A little invasive in the southern direction,... but very exciting!... I'll tell you the details later... when you take me to heaven by fucking me hard?"

She nibbled on my earlobe, then looked up at me again. A mischievous smile crept into her innocent expression. But the charm of the porcelain-smooth lines on her pale skin was interspersed with that lustful ghost of a libidinous past. Two different faces merged and took my breath away. For now, I was satisfied with her answer. She made no secret of Aman's advances, but she was honest with me. I could tell her later that I had overheard everything.

Meanwhile, Aman had disappeared into our guest bathroom. Only his huge, worn-out sneakers were left in the hallway. They bore the only evidence to the presence of the older African bull who was our guest and who planned to make the young wife of this small family submissive. Little did he know that this was what the husband longed for in his fantasies. But when it came to reality, my feelings were mixed. I still couldn't trust Aman. I hoped that would change during this evening, so that the reality would be just as intense and pleasurable as the fantasy. Maybe even light years better.

"And... how is this supposed to proceed?" I asked my wife. Nicole wrapped her arms around my neck and looked at me with an affectionate smile.

"I have no idea!"

"Did you tell him about my fetish?"

"Not yet!"

"But what do we do now?"

"Impro theater! Let's wait and see what happens. As long as he doesn't know about your fetish, he'll hold back. If you want to change something, then..."

"Then what?"

"... then I'll notice and play along. You decide what happens tonight. She looked over my shoulder into the flickering semi-darkness of the living room and smiled contentedly.

"Does our living room look cozy?" she whispered conspiratorially.

I nodded.

"Very cozy?" she giggled with an incredibly sweet expression on her radiant face.

I nodded again and noticed those deep vents in her eyes begin to open, allowing the vicious primordial soup to rise. An expression of childish anticipation laced with a hint of depravity. I was sure that our cozy threesome-combo would not just be about indulging in some wine this evening.

It was my responsibility to direct and give the script the balance I promised. But where should I draw the line for this evening? The red lines were clear. No sex, and the well-being of our marriage had to come first. Still, there was a wide range of possibilities for excessive eroticism. It was my fetish-obsessed mind, of all things, that was allowed to decide which of these erotic varieties from our shared imagination would find its way into tonight's reality. It's like putting the fox in charge of the henhouse.

"I don't know if I will be able to take care of you, Nicole! You can't imagine how much the fact that he's here with us arouses me!" I whispered into her ear and received a long, loving look.

"I love it when you're aroused, darling! Don't worry so much! If necessary, I will pull the ripcord!"

"I really hope so!... Let's make a toast to him first," I whispered.

"First I have to go up to the bedroom and put on some dry clothes. Meanwhile, you have to play host and when I come down... then..."

"Yeah? What then?"

"Like I said, you decide wether we're just going to drink wine together or..."

She left the sentence unfinished and winked at me. Finally, I nodded a third time. The sound of the toilet flushing pulled me out of my thoughts and put an end to our improvised planning. With a kiss, my wife wriggled away from me. She paused at the foot of the stairs with a lovely wink over her shoulder.

"Does my darling have any special requests for my wardrobe tonight?"

I looked at her in silence for a long moment, pondering the question without being able to answer. Finally, Nicole felt compelled to ask me for my opinion on her suggestions.

"Either demure, or a hint of sexy, or hot, or...?"

"Well, now I'm curious to see what comes after the last 'or'!"

„Well... just like God created me!" She gave me a cheeky wink, looking challenging as she rolled her lower lip between her teeth.

"I want the 'Eve costume' covered with a touch of sexy!"

With a big grin and an air kiss, my wife disappeared to the first floor, leaving me to deal with her Black Bull. Behind me I heard the clink of a belt buckle. I turned to see my African neighbor coming towards me. Unabashedly, he reached under the hem of his underpants and sorted out his privates. As he came nearer, he zipped up his jeans.

When he stoped right in front of me, he was presentable again, except for the fact that the lingering odor of his cock still clung to his unwashed hands. I thought about this somehow strange circumstance. An image flashed through my mind of Nicole and Aman making out on the couch. She had her head in his lap. A rhythmic up and down of enthusiasm, and I concluded that hand hygiene is overrated. The swirling scent of phallic masculinity would be tasted at the source in case of a fellatio. So a few unwashed fingers should hardly matter.

He had taken off his soaking wet t-shirt in the bathroom. Awe and fascination gripped me as my eyes took in the mountainous relief of steeled muscles lined up under pitch-black skin. Only the expansive belly scratched at this physical perfection. But in my aesthetic sense, there is a special grace in imperfection. This was also the case with this African bull, whose titanic physiognomy was only brought to full bloom by that opulent belly.

There was no point in offering him one of my shirts. It would tear before it could be fully pulled over his chest. Aman looked at me estimatingly. I returned his gaze without showing my great respect. The knotted, gray-black hair and his hard, judgmental expression reminded me of that proverbial silverback whose dominance was better left unquestioned. We stared at each other for a long moment as the firelight seemed to ignite his black, naked torso.

I felt uneasy. His glowing eyeballs trapped me as if being categorized like an insect. I kept my eyes firmly on him, feeling the spray of stimulating hormones rush through my intestines.

A benevolent smile suddenly appeared on Aman's puffy cheeks. Instantly, the stern expression on his face dissolved. The predator retreated. But I was sure it was ready to jump, waiting for its opportunity to pounce on Nicole as soon as she was within reach again.

"Bravo! You can withstand my gaze! I don't often experience that!"

It was a somewhat surprising start to cultivated small talk, although it seemed to correspond with his direct and frontal art of conversation. At first I didn't know what to say. His voice was free of mockery and he sounded sincere, but at the same time surprised, as if he hadn't expected me to have anything like a backbone. Aman looked around the living room and his smile widened into a broad grin. Finally, he turned his eyes back to me.

"Very cozy!"

"Thanks!"

"So? What now, Frank?"

"Do you like wine?"

"Yes! Why not! Let's have some wine!"

.....

9:12 p. m.

I looked at my neighbor from my chair. He was sitting across from me on our couch, engrossed in the burning wood of the fireplace. Shadows flickered on the wall behind his dark, glowing silhouette. I sipped my wine, inhaled the fruity bouquets, and watched this half-naked African bull. He remained motionless. Like a Goliath carved from obsidian. A huge single black monolith whose coarse-looking mind seemed to be addicted to the profound philosophy of flickering flames.

"Where's your wife, Frank?" he asked suddenly into the silence, without taking his eyes off the fire.

"She's still changing."

He nodded silently. I peered around the corner of the fireplace into the hallway. My eyes wandered up the first few steps, but there was no sign or sound of Nicole.

"Your English is very good! I mean for..."

"You mean for an African refugee like me!"

"I didn't mean to offend you!"

"You didn't offend me, Frank! I grew up partly bilingual, so English is like a mother tongue to me. My pronunciation is a bit African, but I can speak English fluently."

"How come?" I wanted to know. Aman frowned and looked into the flames with a serious expression on his face.

"Maybe some other time Frank!"

"Ok!... No problem!"

Silence!

I still couldn't believe it. My imagination had grown wings and those wings of freedom had created a situation tonight that I had imagined hundreds of times before. My thoughts began to spin. I would have liked to know more about our guest. Especially why he grew up bilingual, if he had left his family behind in Ethiopia, and what he had experienced on his journey to Germany.

But he was magically drawn to the glow of the fire. I didn't want to seem chatty. For minutes we were immersed in the flickering of the burning log, which crackling truths we absorbed with our gazes. Finally, I decided to pick up the thread of the conversation to learn a little more about the man who was so interested in my wife.

"Are you married?"

A crooked grin appeared on his face and he gave me a quick sideways glance. It was obvious that he was amused by my question.

"I'm not that kind of man, Frank! Why should a man only fuck one woman when there are so many beautiful women out there?"

It wasn't quite the answer I was expecting, but my African neighbor didn't seem to be the type of man whose answer consisted of a simple "yes" or "no." His unfiltered statements were direct and had a certain entertainment value.

"Maybe to have a deeper relationship."

"For what?" he replied almost mockingly.

"Maybe to experience lasting happiness with a woman!" I murmured into the flames, thinking of Nicole. Arching my eyebrows, hurt by his mockery. Apparently, women were nothing more than exchangeable pleasures to him. Another moment of silence passed. I pondered the pros and cons of his attitude toward the female gender. Finally, I heard a clearing of the throat, followed by the dark roar of his voice.

"Well!... Nothing lasts! But... undoubtedly you are a lucky man to have such a woman at your side! A rare beauty! I think she would never bore me!"

The sincerity in his words sounded like an envious confession. A crazy feeling rolled through my stomach like a huge wall of water. The simple views of this colossus about the interchangeability of women seemed to lose their absolute validity when it came to Nicole. A realization that aroused and frightened me beyond measure all at the same time.

I glanced at him furtively. It was hard to tear myself away from this extraordinary sight. The exotic, deep black skin was surrounded by the orange-red glow of the fire. A monumental natural spectacle whose... brutal aesthetics captivated me. His powerful gaze was still fixed on the fire.

Thoughts were presente like sacrifices to the flickering flames. My mind warned me again of this African's intentions. But my fetish was electrified by his envy, his directness and the fact that he was sitting half naked on our couch. Nicole wouldn't be able to resist this magical attraction.

I thought about my promise to help her keep this longing for another man's skin in balance, and at the same time I found myself thinking about offering Aman to sleep in our marital bed tonight... with Nicole, of course! This thought sent an incredibly intense tugging sensation through my stomach. I felt myself getting hard.

The upstairs bedroom door opened. I looked at the stairs. There was a clicking sound on the parquet floor. Then I saw those platform sandals appear in my line of sight. Black cords wrapped around pale, slender calves. The small gold pendants on her anklet glittered above her right foot. The colors of Ethiopia shone from her toes. Jealousy pierced me at the sight.

Nicole's bare legs seemed to get longer and longer as my wife walked down the stairs. Only when I saw her bare knees and another hand's width of skin before the hem of her red kimono swung on her beautifully shaped thighs.

More and more of her wonderful body was revealed and my jaw dropped. I was fascinated by her provocative look, which couldn't be categorized as "a touch of sexy", more like "erotic awakening", even "hot" in my opinion. It was close to the limit of what a guest could tolerate without taking it as an invitation.

With determined, confident steps she came closer and looked at me, smiling. Her dark hair was pulled up again. Around her pretty long neck she wore a black leather choker that I had given her for our first wedding anniversary. It was 0,6 inch wide band that fit tightly around her neck and was held together by a gold ring in the middle. A very fine chain hung down from this middle piece and disappeared into her cleavage.

She seldom wore this necklace. From time to time she would surprise me with sexy lingerie when I got home from work or when we had time to ourselves on the weekend. This choker was an extra accessory for those occasions. A treat for my eyes only. But this time, with an almost foreign African who was also part of the waiting audience, it felt strange and let out a few small stabs of jealousy that fueled my bittersweet lust.

Her pointed cleavage ran the length of her breastbone. It was too tight to be offensive, but it was enough to have a stimulating effect. A large red bow wrapped around her slender waist, holding the two halves of her kimono together.

She winked at me conspiratorially and strolled past us with a busy look on her face, heading straight for the open kitchen. Shadows and the glow of the fire flickered on the red silk that hung down to her hips, revealing her endlessly long and pale legs.

"I'll be with you in a minute, boys!" she sang with a sweet smile.

I sat with my back to her and turned again to our guest who was watching Nicole with that predatory look on his face. He didn't let his potential prey out of his sight all the way to the kitchen. I was curious if Nicole would choose to sit in the chair next to me or on the couch next to Aman. I was secretly hoping for the latter.

"Would either of you like an apple?"

Nicole's voice and the sound of a knife hitting wood jolted me out of my little daydream. I looked at Aman, who returned my questioning gaze.

"Nicole is cutting some apple slices. Would you like some?"

"Will you feed me Mrs. Weber?" his deep voice thundered playfully.

I looked back at my wife in the kitchen and tried to imagine what she thought of this comment. From my position I saw her profile as she stood behind the kitchen counter. A wry smile immediately appeared at the corners of her mouth. Then Nicole pursed her lips and replied.

"Is that what Ethiopian women would do for their male guests?"

"It depends on the hospitality of the husband." Aman replied smugly.

It sounded like flattery in my direction. I turned back to our guest and looked into a jovial grin, similar to the one I had on the patio the other day when I opened the clasp of Nicole's bikini top under his imperial gaze.

"Then you should ask my husband," I heard my wife reply with amusement as she continued to concentrate on slicing the apple on the wooden board.

I thought about it for a moment. It certainly wasn't typical of local hospitality. On the other hand, it could still be considered harmless fun. I looked back at my wife, who was staring at the counter and seemed to be waiting anxiously for my answer. I felt Aman's smoldering eyes in my neck.

"If you feed me first, I won't mind this kind of hospitality!"

A grin spread across her sweet, innocent face. I took a deep breath to control my sprouting arousal. Then I turned back to our African neighbor and signaled my agreement. He looked satisfied.

Aman, with his pitch-black and muscular torso, sat pressed widely in the corner of our sofa. I wondered when this African Marvel adaptation was going to turn back into Bruce Benner. His gaze passed me by. He stared into the kitchen. But finally he turned his attention back to me, raised his glass and toasted me.

"Thanks for the invitation and the hospitality, Frank!"

"Thanks for your help in the garden, Aman!" I replied, raising my glass as well.

"Always a pleasure, Frank!"

Behind me I heard my wife's clacking footsteps again. I turned around. Her slender figure approached us with sparkling charm. My eyes wandered down her long, naked legs, the silky hem of her kimono billowing around her thighs. A beguiling sight, rounded off by the black laces of her platform sandals and the colors of Ethiopia that promised more than just hospitality.

"You two seem to be getting along very well!... I am very happy about that!" she crooned with a wink in my direction.

"We understand each other better than you can imagine, my pale beauty! Am I right, Frank?"

I swallowed and nodded in agreement. "My pale beauty?" This blunt salutation sent seismic shock waves through my emotions. Nicole looked at our guest with raised eyebrows, but without making a fuss about the suggestion. She refrained from reminding him that "Mrs. Weber" was the correct form of address. When Nicole had reached my level, she stopped. She took a slice of apple from the porcelain bowl with two fingers and shoved it into my mouth.

"For the best husband in the world!" she sang cheerfully.

Then she leaned down and kissed me tenderly. Long fingers gently stroked my cheek, and I breathed in her intoxicating perfume. As her soft lips parted from mine, we looked at each other. It was a loving gaze and I had the impression that Nicole wanted to make sure that I, as her husband, would be comfortable in this situation. Her caring mingled with a pleasant warmth in my spirit and that toxic mixture of lust and jealousy that went down especially sweet.

"Sit with him! I whispered to her.

A smile crossed her face. She straightened up and looked at Aman with wide eyes, nibbling her lower lip in fascination. It was obvious that the image of our neighbor had a beguiling effect on my wife.

"I hope you are comfortable with barely wearing anything!"

"I'm fine! Maybe this will be the trend of the evening?"

A lewd grin appeared on our neighbor's beefy face. Nicole watched him with amusement and bit into an apple slice.

"Well... why would it be a trend? It's fine the way it is right now! I'm content!"

Her smooth reply came with a flirtatious vibrato. I grinned to myself, impressed by her quick-wittedness. She strolled over to the sofa and dropped into the leather cushions next to Aman.

His eyes lit up, rolling down her body with obvious interest and unabashed flirtation. She returned his silent advances with a coquettish smile. Nicole slid up close to him, resting on his bare chest, and shoved the bitten-off piece of apple between his bulging, grinning lips. It was a stunning sight. The delicate limbs of her pale fingers on the massive muscles of his chest and her tenderness was not only aesthetically beautiful. It looked as if they were lovers. A thought that gave me masochistic pleasure, even though I would reject such an intimate status beyond our fantasies.

"To the hardworking gardener! I hope my husband's hospitality meets your expectations"

"Well! I wouldn't say no to a kiss either! But that would put any Ethiopian hospitality to shame."

His boldness annoyed and aroused me at the same time. The implanted image of well-meaning hospitality in the form of a kiss took shape in my mind and sent a tingling sensation through my abdomen. I wanted to have a ready tongue, but I could only stare at Aman. My lips parted but my mind faltered. Unexpectedly, our neighbor began to direct the action, replacing me as the unofficial director before I had even begun to plan our little tête-à-tête.

"You're straining my husband's hospitality, Aman!" my wife explained gently but firmly.

"Well... I think your husband is much more hospitable than you would have me believe!"

He eyed me like a predator who had picked up a scent. His outstretched arm rested on the backrest behind Nicole. The massive extremity began to move like a looping muscle, gently wrapping itself around my wife's shoulders. His piercing gaze remained focused on me throughout the maneuver. I watched the spectacle in disbelief. It was like déjà vu. A scene taken from my imagination and transplanted into reality as a cruel pleasure. Nicole looked in my direction, unsure how to react to this sudden approach.

"Is this closeness some kind of Ethiopian host gift?

There was something erratic about her comment, as if she couldn't decide between indignation and approval. Somehow Nicole seemed to want it, but her eyes remained on me. Unsure if I wanted it too.

"Kind of!" I heard that dark voice vibrate as his eyes studied my expression. I didn't move a muscle, frozen by his ambush-like maneuver and the way he took the lead. Suddenly, his gaze relaxed and something benevolent returned, as if he wanted to secure the conquered territory with kindness and dismiss the proximity to my wife as casual.

"I hope I'm not overstaying my welcome, Frank? A few months without a woman's soft body does not go by without a trace."

"Looks like it!"

I gazed undecidedly at Nicole, who now had her legs tucked under her bottom and was relaxing in Aman's embrace. She wrinkled her forehead as if thinking hard. Finally, she gave me an encouraging wink and stroked the leather cushion next to her with her palm.

"Why don't you sit with me, honey?"

Her gesture seemed like a diplomatic interlude. A charming transition from flirting to physical closeness that tried to integrate all three protagonists. But at the same time, I felt like a little puppy that was allowed to join its master and mistress on the couch, even if it wasn't Nicole's intention to make me feel that way.

As if being by a remote controlled, I stood up and sat down next to my wife. To my surprise, she wriggled out of his embrace with a sweet smile and snuggled up against me. She didn't want to leave any doubt about who belonged to whom.

In an instant, I no longer felt like a puppy, but like the privileged husband. I was relieved and grateful for my wife's demonstrative gesture, even though a deeply disturbed part of me liked this bizarre puppy role. This realization shocked me, and I decided to smother the emerging devotion in the blight and under no circumstances allow it to be revealed in the presence of our beefy neighbor.

I kissed Nicole deeply, and then furtively watched our guest's face, which hung unreadably rigid in the room. The motionless black mask floated in the glow of the fire, silently looking down at us. As we finished the playful game of our lips, my wife winked at me and stroked my cheek.

"I love you Frank!"

"I know!..."

My reply was a croaky whisper. Nicole's big blue eyes searched my face, as if she wanted to make sure I agreed. I nodded, winked and kissed her fingertips. She smiled and turned her head back in Aman's direction.

"Frank and I would like to know a little more about you, Aman!"

Immediately, the African's rigid furrows dissolved and mutated back into that well-meaning expression you wanted to trust without limits, even if you could feel the calculating mind lurking behind that facade.

"Well!... Then make yourself comfortable! Stretch out your legs on my lap."

"What do you think, honey? Do you mind?"

Nicole was still leaning snugly in my embrace. I saw her pretty face. She was nibbling her lower lip, eagerly awaiting my reaction. I gave her a condescending wink and decided to let things take their course.

"I want you to feel good! So feel free, darling!"

"Thanks honey!"

With a quick kiss on my cheek, Nicole sat up and dropped between us so that her lovely long legs were on Aman's lap and her head was nestled in my thighs. She looked at our neighbor with a beautiful smile.

"If you don't mind, Aman, just take off the sandals! I think it'll be more comfortable for both of us!"

"That's what I had in mind, beautiful!"

He leaned over to the table, put down the wine glass, and pushed himself back into the corner of our sofa. With skillful fingers, the giant opened the dark cords of the sandals that snaked and brushed along Nicole's calves and removed them one by one from her feet. Without being asked, one of his paws took hold of her slender foot and began to massage it. As if it was the most natural thing in the world.

His black fingertips gently stroked her pale instep. With raised eyebrows, Nicole looked up at me from my lap. She made no move to resist his caresses. Instead, my wife shrugged her shoulders almost imperceptibly, as if to share a silent "so what" with me.

This time she didn't wait for my consent, but seemed to assume it. A sizzling dynamic began to blossom between her and Aman, and my inner devil whispered to let it run its course. Nicole's gaze shifted back to the other end of the sofa and her lovely smile focused on our neighbor.

"Another hostess gift?" I heard my wife ask amusedly.

"Just a little thank you for the pretty painted toenails! I have never seen the colors of my country shine so beautifully. They suit you very well!"

A peaceful contemplation crept into the orange-red glowing relief of those deeply furrowed features and gave a strange glow to that gloomy face. With a satisfied grin, Nicole let her painted toes move in a rippling wave through his open fingers.

My eyes followed her long, naked legs to the hem of her kimono, which had slid up to barely cover her panties. I felt myself getting hard. A bulge rose in my lap. Just below the back of Nicole's head. Her eyes flicked to me again. She smiled mischievously. Her eyes were on me, but her voice was flirting with our neighbor.

"Nail art is one of my hobbies, as you may have seen on my fingernails. I always work on a specific theme, and this week it's Ethiopia... I was hoping you'd like it, Aman!"

"It's incredible! And it is supposed to be more than just hospitable! Am I right, my pale beauty?"

Aman's words pierced for a confession. It was obvious that our neighbor seemed to suspect that Nicole and I were thinking of a ménage-à-trois for tonight. I looked at him. At the same moment, his predatory gaze caught me and his imperious expression seemed to demand compliance. My instincts were running in different directions. On the one hand, I wanted this Goliath to continue his offensive. It felt incredibly exciting to let him have his way, to surrender to his pull and watch one frontier after another fall.

On the other hand, I heard my conscience protesting louder than usual this time. My feeling told me that it was better not to give in to this emerging submissiveness. I vacillated between longing for the loss of control and maintaining a status quo that secured my privileges as a husband. It was a dilemma. I took a deep breath and let my conscience answer for now.

"It's a warm welcome! No more Aman! You wanted to tell us about yourself! So please start!"

A wolfish grin stretched deep into his puffy cheek and he nodded silently. His hand went for the wine glass. He toasted me first before clinking his glass with hers, looking deeply into my wife's eyes. A full, clattering sound rippled through the room. Soft chuckles wound their way down our throats as Nicole glared at our neighbor. It wasn't until the second gulp that her eyes rolled back in my direction. The feeling in my stomach went from a slowly awakening flap of wings to a buzzing sensation that grew more intense.

"To be honest, I don't like to talk about myself. You won't like it either and it would spoil the mood! Let's postpone my life story and start with yours."

"Ok!... Well!... What do you want to know?" I asked.

"Very well Frank! I have to ask you if it turns you on when I give pleasure to your wife! I'd like to clarify that!"

Ka-boom! A fully armed frontal attack. I stared at Aman as if frozen and searched the depths of my mind for an appropriate answer. But the words just slowly dripped out of my throbbing mind. Nicole and I looked at each other speechlessly. I had the feeling that absolute silence had fallen over us like a bell. A war of wildly firing hormones raged in my abdomen as my mind replayed every word he said in a kind of endless loop. This African knew about my fetish. I felt exposed and ashamed!

I gazed at his beefy face, which stared at me unmoved. Everything was much easier in my imagination. But in reality the impressions and feelings overwhelmed me. My thoughts were paralyzed. Finally, Nicole came to my rescue with an answer.

"We don't want the whole thing, Aman! Yes, we are interested in a little thrill, but we also want to feel good! No sex!"

Aman sipped his wine glass and didn't answer, instead his eyes flicked back and forth between Nicole and me. For a brief moment, it seemed as if a hiss glowed in his features, but within the blink of an eye, it was locked away by that well-meaning expression.

"Understood!" his voice sounded dark and monosyllabic.

He continued to bombard me with his piercing gaze. I felt exposed and would have preferred to sink into a hole in the ground. But that wasn't necessary. Little Mrs. Weber's suffering squeal suddenly boomed through the baby monitor and saved me from that embarrassing moment. For the first time, Maya's screaming really suited me. Nicole and I looked at each other. There was a hint of disappointment and relief on her face.

"Should I go?" I heard her ask.

"It's okay!" I replied, swallowing a lump in my throat, "I... I will go, sweetheart!"

We looked at each other. I was afraid I might miss something if I left the room while Nicole stayed alone on the sofa with her bull. A chill ran down my spine like an icy avalanche.

"It won't take long! I promise!"

"OK!" She nodded and an affectionate smile stretched the corners of her mouth, "Hurry up, darling! Don't take too long! I want you by my side!"

"Don't worry Frank! We'll kill time somehow until you come back! You won't miss anything essential!"

Aman's words sounded like a fair "time out". But at the same moment, the budding dynamic between the two of them climbed to the next level. His big paw searched and found my wife's hand. A magical contrast of light and dark joined. Long fingers intertwined in harmony, as if it were a normal tenderness between two familiar souls. I hesitated for a moment. Then I left the living room with a symphonic display of fireworks that began to ignite in my abdomen.

... 9:33 p. m.

"There you go, you little crying baby! Now you're clean again! It's time for the little lady to learn how to use the toilet!"

I looked down at the changing table. My daughter was squealing happily and sucking on her pacifier. A sweet grin crossed her puffy little face. The baby monitor was switched off. Nicole and Aman were undisturbed, and my imagination conjured up the most exciting images. However, the longer I was with Maya, the more my family instincts kicked in and the more bizarre and unreasonable this evening felt.

The silent worries became louder and the envy my neighbor had announced with his words rang like an alarm bell in my head. It was unwise to leave them alone. But neither my blossoming sense of family nor that alarm signal in my head changed anything in my mind, which was contaminated with dark lust and only partially receptive to reason.

"Mom..." my daughter squealed, grinning.

"Mom is... busy! You're going back to bed now, my little terror gnome!"

I lifted the little one from the changing table and carried her to the crib. When she realized what I had in mind, she made a sweet, sour little face and looked at me reproachfully.

"Mommy!" she whined with masterful theatricality.

Her mood was on the verge of becoming hysterical again. I sighed inwardly. This little ray of sunshine didn't seem to be in the mood to negotiate. Of course, I could leave her against her will, because her screams wouldn't be heard in the living room. We would be undisturbed. Maya could live out her protest with full enthusiasm in her secluded refuge. I weighed my options and decided against my instinctive selfishness. My daughter was more important. She wanted to see her mommy, so mommy had to briefly push her black bull onto the waiting track.

When she realized that we were leaving her room, Maja became tame again. Her stubborn little head rested in the crook of my neck. I heard the soothing sound of sucking. I silently thanked the inventor of the pacifier. The little lady still seemed tired. There was some hope that my daughter wouldn't disturb our little secret rendezvous with Aman for long.

Silently, I crept towards the living room door. Muffled fragments of words shattered on the walls and their remains were lost in the hallway. A deep, dark sigh drifted between the garbled sentences. It was from Aman. My heart began to race with excitement. It was the first time I had heard this African bull sigh with pleasure. As we got closer, the fragments of words came together and I listened carefully.

"Hhmm... That's good! Go on!... How does it make you feel?"

"A bit unusual, to be honest!" my wife replied. She giggled, "It's the first time I've ever done this with my toes!"

I groaned inwardly. I briefly considered sending Maja back to her room, but decided against it, hoping that she would continue to doze on my shoulder. I reached the living room door and peeked through the crack. Nicole was sitting in the corner of the sofa across from Aman. Her long, bare legs were stretched out in the African's lap. One of her feet was kneaded by black paws. The other was halfway down his unzipped pants, circling around. I swallowed, electrified by the sight.

"This is also rather unusual for me. Usually I am used to being sucked there."

"Sometimes you just have to be happy with what you get!"

"I am! But I'd be even happier if you took my cock in your pretty mouth!"

"Maybe one day, my cheeky bull... or never... Besides, I doubt it would fit in my mouth!"

"Your husband's is probably not of that caliber!... Of course he's not!"

"But you can suck his cock without dislocating your jaw!"

"But this one can completely fill your married pussy!"

"You are sooo right!... Men should be reduced to their dicks! If I did that, I'd probably have to worship you and your black giant. But then I'd also have to worship my husband, because he's also quite well endowed. Not quite as big, but similarly long! Much better for a blow job.

Nicole's last words floated through the room with a mumbled homage to my best piece. It sounded as if she wanted to tantalize our guest. I was mesmerized by this intimate and nonchalant exchange of words. Aman, meanwhile, was looking past Nicole into the garden, pondering something with great interest.

"In that case, my innocent soul, you will be a very happy woman! Filled with two big cocks!"

"If we ever reach that point, I would certainly be very well served by both of you. But according to the current rules, that is no more than a fantasy, my cheeky bull. Don't forget, Frank is the only one who can fuck me!"

"According to the current rules, yes!"

"Don't get your hopes up!"

"Challenge accepted!"

"You are a persistent fool!"

Aman replied with a smug grin. There was a hint of pleasure in his expression and he let out another sigh. I looked down at the African's lap and saw that Nicole's foot had penetrated even deeper into his open crotch.

"Oh fuck! You could be the first woman to make me cum with your toes if you keep this up!"

"But then you would be staining your national colors, my nasty bull!"

"But you'd like it if my load seeped between your sweet toes, wouldn't you? And I'm sure Frank would too!"

"As long as my husband is absent, we had agreed on massages! No more, my African beauty! I'll just stimulate you a little. No need to make a mess!"

"You're putting the brakes on! But actually you want more! Why else would you have that Ethiopian nail polish on your pretty toes? Why else do you call me your Black Bull?"

Silence!

Nicole's gaze fled into the flickering flames of the fireplace. Her thoughts seemed to be far away. Shadows and firelight flickered through her soft face and down her long, pale legs. The hem of her kimono had slipped up to her dark panties. Aman's raven black fingers caressed her naked foot, eliciting small sighs from my wife. It was a magical scene that sought its equal.

"What do you really want?" he insisted, urging Nicole to answer in an almost demonic tone.

"The truth is... I have longed for this kind of thrill, even though I am a happily married woman. In a way... you are intensifying that desire! But don't push it too far! If you cross the red line, we will end this!"

"The truth is that it excites you when I push you to the limit! You are fascinated by me! And I'm fascinated by you! I've never had a woman as fair-skinned as you,... like a ghost woman!"

"Shut up, my cheeky bull! You don't have me! And you won't get me by flirting with me. Just get on with your massage!"

"Maybe you'll remember those words... when you're some day naked under me with your perverted husband watching us and jerking off!"

Without answering, Nicole looked at Aman with a serious expression and shook her head in disapproval. She didn't seem amused. Still, her foot continued to press into his unzipped pants, drawing devoted circles. Her eyes began to sparkle as Aman tipped his head back into the seat and groaned lazily.

Meanwhile, I was still my daughter's pillow. It was a bizarre situation. Suddenly, something fell to the floor beside me. I looked down and saw the pacifier. My daughter's head started to move. Slowly, an indignant, sleepy wail rose. I tried my best to keep Maya calm, but it was too late. She started to cry. I bent down and picked up her most important possession. When I looked back at the living room door, Nicole was standing in front of me.

"Frank? What is... have you been standing there for a while?"

"She... she wanted to go to her mommy... and mommy was busy!" I said evasively without answering the question.

"Give her to me! Hey, my angel... Mommy's here! Shhhh... Mommy's here."

"Will you put her back to bed?"

Nicole nodded and disappeared into the nursery with Maya. I collected myself and joined our neighbor again. Aman sat on the sofa with his pants unzipped. Without any sense of shame, he displayed his impressive bulge through the disheveled underpants. Where Nicole's foot had just been making circles, the remains of wrinkled, black scrotum skin now peeked out from under the hem. Aman didn't bother to straighten his clothes and just grinned at me.

"You didn't miss anything, Frank!"

„Glad to hear this!"

"We just had a foot massage!"

"You can't miss that! Looks impressive!"

His grin widened. He toasted me. I grabbed my glass and sat down on the sofa, returning the gesture briefly. My eyes went back to the fire, the source of soothing comfort and enlightening wisdom. I recapitulated the evening that had passed. A myriad of questions swirled in my mind.

"How did you know, Aman?"

"What do you mean, Frank?"

"My fetish! How did you know?"

"Well... last weekend you and your wife acted as if you wanted to offer more than just hospitality. I have a sixth sense for that kind of fetish!"

"Do you have experience with couples?"

"Maybe!... Tell me something, Frank! White wifes really like black cocks. What's wrong with white dicks? Do they stink? Don't they get hard? What is it?"

"I don't know!" was my laconic response. I had no desire to discuss the legendary differences between black and white genitalia. For me, it was a question of the aesthetics of black and white, and in Aman's case, it was also a question of that steely physiognomy. I was silent for a moment. Finally, Aman's question touched a nerve in me and I felt compelled to elaborate on the answer.

"It's not just a question of a big black cock, Aman! It's your very dark, exotic skin, your muscles and this subliminal brutal aura. I think if it wasn't for the filth coming out of your mouth, you could probably have any woman you wanted!"

I let these words run through my head again and realized that this statement came out quite unfiltered. I looked at Aman, but he didn't seem to be upset. On the contrary, he grinned at me and toasted me again.

"Cheers, my friend! I think we're warming up to each other!"

"Cheers Aman!" A smile crept across my face, and for the first time I felt something like sympathy for this hulking, dark mountain of muscle.

9:52 p. m.

The soft patter of bare feet approached from the hallway. Apparently, my wife had managed to put our daughter back to sleep. With a tired expression on her face, she entered the living room, approached the sofa and stood in front of us. Her upper body was pressed into a hollow back, while her arms were stretched toward the ceiling. She yawned wildly and made no secret of her fatigue.

"I sang some lullabies for my daughter and now I'm a little tired! Maybe we should call it a night!"

"Bad idea! We haven't run out of wine yet!"

"That's right! I think we should finish the bottle, sweetheart!"

"I'm glad the gentlemen agree! For my sake! But I might fall asleep between you two!

"Don't worry! We'll keep you awake!"

"I expected nothing less from my cheeky bull!"

With this blatant flirtation, Nicole lowered herself into the leather cushions between Aman and me. Her head rested on the backrest and rolled in his direction with a smile. She seemed a little tipsy and her arctic blue eyes glowed as she looked at our neighbor.

I rewound the words in my mind, down to the caressing address, "My cheeky bull." A verbal tenderness that sank icily into my chest. But at the same time, I was enveloped in the pleasure of that masochistic lust, the pull of which I couldn't escape. I looked at Aman who was staring at Nicole over the rim of his glass like a predator ready to pounce.

A tense silence suddenly hung in the fading light of the living room. The log was now well burned. The flickering shadows slowly merged into a stagnant darkness, the orange-red glow gradually fading down our bodies. A transcendent moment that brought the magic of a perceptible crackle.

Nicole's dark eyelids closed. Suddenly, a high-pitched humming vibrated between her full lips. It was the seductive echo of a lullaby that had apparently become a catchy tune in my wife's head. I immediately recognized the melody. It was our daughter's favorite lullaby.

"I like your soft, bright voice! I'd like to hear you sing, not just hum!"

"You're crazy!"

"Says the one who lets another man touch her while her husband watches!"

Nicole arched her eyebrows in amusement. She didn't comply with Aman's request, but continued her lovely humming with her eyelids closed, smiling mischievously.

I looked down at her body. Milky white breasts peeked out from under the open red silk. A remnant of flickering embers seeped into the shadowy depths of her cleavage. Her prolonged yawn had caused the skimpy garment to shift slightly. The cleavage was no longer pointed and narrow. It gaped deep and invitingly down to the bow at her waist that barely held the kimono together. On her breastbone lay the obsidian that had been anchored to her choker, now lost in the expanse of her milky white skin. A contrast that electrified me and felt like an irrevocable prophecy that began to circulate through my mind.

Thoughts flashed through my mind in bright colors. I imagined what would happen next. But there was no need to use my imagination, because our African neighbor took the initiative again. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a shadow creeping up. Aman's long, black fingers slid across Nicole's lap and began to pull on the bow, opening it without invitation. The two halves of her kimono fell to the sides of her body and her cleavage widened to a breathtaking openness.

The material exposed the softly contoured breasts to the edge of the dark areolas, their nipples stiff and pointed against the parting silk. My wife's humming stopped. A deep breath filled Nicole's chest and outlined the shadows of some rib arches on the pale skin. A crack opened between her dark lashes. She slowly tilted her head in my direction and looked at me intently for a long moment. Unlimited desire circling like an arctic demon in those icy blue eyes.

"Are you okay with this, darling?..."

I knew that Nicole's whispered words were the last chance to stay in our good, middle-classed and orderly life. But now it seemed to me as if that ship had already sailed. This menage-a-trois was just too intoxicating. I never felt as alive as I did at that moment. I suspected my wife shared this feeling. Our bond, sealed by marriage vows, was beginning to open up to a third person, and it was irreversible.

"Let him... keep... doing it!"

My voice had degenerated into a croak and the words came out as if rasped through my constricted throat. I noticed a barely perceptible nod from my wife. Her wine-stained head rolled back over the back of the seat toward our African neighbor, whose hard features protruded into the room and lingered on her.

"Surely the two of you are not making indecent advances on a tired and tipsy woman... You're looking at me like I'm a small appetizer!"

"More like a whole buffet! You don't know where to start!"

Aman's voice boomed from the dark corner of the sofa. His jet-black body merged more and more with the gathering twilight. His bright white eyeballs seemed to float in the darkness. Nicole's head tilted in my direction again. Her eyes sparkled with loving depravity and clawed into my fading mind.

"Just start, my African beauty! No matter where! Only my panties are off-limits," her lascivious whisper meandered into the silence like an incantation, while her hypnotic gaze remained fixed on me, finally knocking me out completely. Aman didn't need to be asked twice. Like shadowy spider legs, our neighbor's black fingers began to move. They circled around Nicole's flat stomach for a while and then moved up to her breastbone. Our African guest moved his fingertips back and forth over the black pendants of her choker drifting on her milky skin.

"Very pretty. Black suits you very well, my beautiful!"

"Thank you! It's a gift from my husband. He and I have a pronounced weakness for black!"

"Such a weakness can also become an addiction, my pale beauty"

"Thanks for the warning, my exotic black seducer!... But I'm already a big girl! So... go ahead!"

Even more than Nicole's words, it was her lustful voice that drove me crazy. The blazing blue eyes tilted back in Aman's direction and a mischievous smile crept onto her innocent face. Aman's gaze was greedy. He produced a sly grin that hung crookedly between his puffy cheeks. I wondered what kind of movie was playing behind that dark, deeply furrowed mask. Finally, he turned his attention in my direction and judged me.

"I'm going to spoil your wife a little now! Just sit back and enjoy the show, Frank!"

Without waiting for my answer, his hand slipped under the red silk. In the dim light, I watched the knuckles curl up under the fabric. His paw had wrapped around Nicole's breast and was moving through the soft flesh. Her upper body arched toward him. A shaky breath circulated deep into her lungs and out again with a devilishly pleasurable moan. It sounded like the final swan song of the innocent Tinkerbell I had met years ago, now following her instinctual nature. Bright yellow nails clawed into my hand and my wife's head began to bob with pleasure on the back of the seat. It was an incredibly exciting sight.

"I've wanted to do this ever since I saw you in your hot bikini!"

"Then enjoy it now, my hardworking gardener... You really deserve it!"

"I think I should work for you as a gardener on a regular basis and you pay me with your body, my beautiful!"

Nicole sighed uncontrollably, as if this African had every receptor in her body under current. She didn't react to his offer. A diabolical expression creased Aman's face. He changed his modus operandi from hard to soft. His paw was no longer kneading her breast. Instead, he stimulated her hard nipple with his fingertips, circling the areola. Nicole moaned, drawing a satisfied grin from Aman.

"Are you thinking of paying me for my gardening? Be honest! The thought turns you on!... And your husband too, I bet!"

Nicole squirmed under his touch. Her transfigured gaze rolled back in my direction. Her full lips were half open, breathing out lustful sighs. A shiver ran down my spine. She looked at me for a long moment, nibbling at her lower lip before finally giving in to an answer.

"Maybe... we can do it that way... for the fall holidays... and then we'll see!... But only if my husband agrees!... You have to ask him nicely... if he wants me to take over the payment"

My mind pieced together in disbelief what my wife's sonorous voice gave into under numerous sighs. An indecent quid pro quo that I should decide. Amorous services for gardening, a simple formula that revealed itself in a disreputable character. The idea of such an arrangement was frightening and sent a swarm of hornets through my intestines, which began to circle in wild cascades. Aman's eyes darted in my direction inquiringly.

"What do you think, Frank! Do we have a deal?"

The piercing eyes of the African gripped me and my thoughts began to race, while Nicole's gaze lingered lustfully on the ceiling. I felt my temples throbbing and a bursting hardness bulging in my crotch. I heard myself answering through a mist.

"Yes!... We have a deal, Aman!"

Rows of glowing teeth grinned into the darkness. The extra-wide, naked torso of the African emerged from the twilight in the corner of the sofa and pressed against Nicole. His hand slipped deeper under her fabric, pulling the kimono back over her shoulder, exposing her chest. His other arm slipped under her neck and hugged my wife's shoulders possessively. I swallowed hard and unzipped my pants with one hand, sliding my fingers inside.

Nicole looked at the dark paw wrapped around her shoulder. Her eyes wandered in my direction. For a brief moment it seemed as if she was returning from that other world and landing back on planet Earth. She looked at me lovingly and stroked my knee, which reached up to her thigh.

"Are you okay, my darling?... Do you like it like this?"

My voice broke. The impressions overwhelmed my mind that lay on the ground. A silent nod was all I could give her in reply. Nicole winked at me and a whisper escaped between her lips.

"I love you Frank... I love you!"

I nodded again, embellishing the silent agreement with a slight smile. Aman's big white eyeballs rolled in my direction. He seemed to be staring right through me. His powerful face wandered through the darkness with a transfigured expression. The African's eyelids closed with pleasure and to my surprise he began to moan.

A dull throb rose in my temples. I lowered my eyes to Aman's lap and discovered my wife's slender, pale wrist disappearing into his panties. Digging fingers moved beneath the baggy fabric. I felt numb. For the first time since we met, my wife had touched another man. My eyes began to wander confusedly along her body, between Nicole's lustful expression, her exposed breast, and the African's lap, without coming to rest. I couldn't decide where to let my gaze rest.

„That's it! Keep it up! Jerk my dick little bitch!"

"Shut up Aman!"

Her answer didn't sound very friendly. But her clouded gaze, lost in the darkness of the living room, deluted the resentment in her voice and the warning effect faded. I had never called my wife a bitch before. But from Aman's mouth, the rude name sounded almost like a compliment, which aroused me.

Beneath my wife's slender wrist, I could make out the outline of a shaft that was beginning to stretch toward freedom. A thick, black phallus, it's stature was of a similar martial appearance to its owner. Aman's beefy skull began to lean into the crook of Nicole's neck. His bulging lips crawled like fat worms over her soft, pale skin as his fingers continued to circle her nipple.

"Have you missed this body, beautiful?... have you longed for my exotic skin?"

His low murmur fell on Nicole, whose expression showed increasing defenselessness. But she didn't answer. Her head tilted sideways, giving the predator access to her throat. She bumped into the black paw that rested on her shoulder. His fingers felt for her full lips. In my mind, I could see the shirtless colossus with his pants unzipped walking out of the bathroom and using those same fingers to sort out his privates just after Nicole disappeared into the bedroom.

"Show me how much you missed your African bull!... Show me, my beautiful! Lick it off!"

Spellbound, I listened to this ingratiating offer, which was accompanied by a deep, corrupt and beguiling humming sound that vibrated through the room. A fierce glow flashed in my wife's blue eyes. I watched with a hint of detachment as the tip of her nose brushed carelessly along his finger, absorbing the spicy musk.

"Does it smell good?"

Silence!

Nicole ignored Aman and continued to nudge the tip of her nose into the black fingertips with relish. Suddenly she stopped. Another narrow slit opened between her lowered lashes. A vortex raged in her gaze and two blue glowing daggers stabbed in my direction, framed by a soft, calm expression. A strangely fascinating paradox, the deeper truth of which would probably be revealed somewhere in Nicole's past. Finally, her eyelids closed again. She took another deep breath and smacked her full lips against one of the black fingertips.

"Yesssss! Lick it off! Taste me with your quick tongue!"

Aman sighed contentedly. He pulled the rest of the kimono back from her shoulders so that it fell on her forearms and she sat shirtless between us. I snapped out of my voyeuristic stupor and looked down at our guest's lap.

Pale, delicate fingers had wrapped themselves around a large, gnarled shadow protruding from his too-tight underpants, pulling an opulent, clean-shaven scrotum behind him. Despite the length of her fingers, she couldn't fully close them around this exotic pleaser. The dimensions were impressive. The extent would hardly be manageable in fellatio. Another kind of game, however, promised an extraordinarily intense pleasure for a woman. I gulped at that thought.

"Your tongue would feel even better somewhere else. Don't be shy, beautiful!... You want it... and your husband loves to watch!"

With a "pop" Nicole released the thick fingertip from her mouth. Her lips sipped along the black, chunky finger. A thoughtful look disappeared into the gathering darkness and lingered for a while in reflection. Finally, her large eyes rolled back in my direction. By now I was rubbing myself freely and easily and wasn't far from my first climax. Nicole smiled contentedly.

"Will you give me free rein, darling?"

Her whisper seethed with wickedness. Her eyes shone like never before. Her gaze lurked as the lower half of her face sank behind the large, black paw and stroked the African's palm with a smacking sound. I nodded silently and croaked just one word.

"Yes!"

"Ok!... Then enjoy it, darling, and just say stop if it gets too much for you!

"I will!"

"Promise?"

"Yes! Promise!"

Nicole finished her lip play. She looked in Aman's direction again. Her face sparkled with charm as her yellow-crowned fingertips playfully dribbled down the erect shaft to the wrinkled scrotum.

"Would you like to feel my tongue somewhere else?"

"Oh yes! That's what I want, beautiful!... That's what I want!"

"Then sit back in the corner and let me do it, my beautiful gardener! Let's finish your payment!"

Nicole gave the black paw a quick kiss and pulled away from Aman's embrace. In one fluid motion, she turned to our neighbor, tucked her long legs under her bottom, and knelt on the leather cushion. Her kimono sank to the floor. The pale torso straightened, shimmering like a chalk drawing in the twilight. My eyes rolled down the picturesque contours of her milky white back to the black thong panties that disappeared between her bare buttocks. She gave me another look over her shoulder and I realized what a silent message my wife was sending me.

"I love you my darling!..."

"I know!"

I whispered my reply and received a smile. Then her head turned back to our African guest. She leaned forward and placed her hands on his broad chest. Aman willingly let himself be pushed down to the other end of the sofa. He lifted one of his legs onto the leather cushions so that Nicole could kneel in his wide spread crotch. She sank deep into the soft leather cushion with the African. Her feet reached up to my lap as the contours of the two bodies blurred in an even darker twilight.

I looked across the gap between her tight, beautifully shaped buttocks and saw my wife's narrow body resting on Aman's overly broad, black torso. The African's powerful arms wrapped around her waist. Milky white skin seemed to flow beneath the black embrace. Sketchy arches of bone, strands of muscle and angular shoulder blades shaded the pallor, bulging forward and plunging back again. It was an aesthetic delight.

I vaguely recognized Nicole's draped hair, submerged in the crook of Aman's neck. Soft smacking sounds reached my ears, confirming what I could only sense in the darkness. She was kissing his neck. A few pale fingers tugged at her updo and opened it. The hair flowed down, obscuring the last shadows I could see in the dim light. For a moment I had the impression that Nicole had just untied her hair to have some fun with Aman out of my sight. A thought that drove me crazy. But I knew that my fetish only caused this suspicion. Humiliation was not part of my wife's repertoire and strangely enough I felt a pang of regret.

"Your soft body already feels very good and so does what you are doing in my neck! But... I'd also like a real kiss!"

"Have I really fallen for a black bull who is never satisfied with what he gets?"

"Kissing is not sex!" Your red lines won't be violated! So! Kiss me, my beauty!"

"That's one way of looking at it, of course! But who said that everything is allowed except sex, my cheeky bull?"

"Your eyes tell me that, my beauty! They tell me you want to taste every inch of my exotic skin! Or am I wrong?"

Nicole didn't answer. But even without answering this question, this exchange of words and especially the tenderness in her voice was pure torture! A brain fuck that hit me with full force. I rubbed my shaft hard and watched as the head with the open dark hair positioned itself over Aman. Slowly her head sank between her square shoulder blades. I froze for a moment, listening intently, and finally heard the unmistakable sounds of a deep kiss.

As if in a trance, I followed Aman's large paws as they powerfully touched Nicole's pale back all the way up to her neck. He pressed her body tightly into his oversized torso, as if he wanted to absorb her. The twilight and the curtain of her dark hair revealed nothing of the hidden kiss. But my wife's writhing body and her muffled sighs told me all I needed to know. She liked it!... She liked it a lot!

The realization burned through my mind like a raging bushfire and pushed me over the cliff. With a loud groan, I came without paying attention to where those powerful volleys of seemen were being discharged. I was overwhelmed! This orgasm was like a leap into the abyss and catapulted me straight into nirvana. I twitched... and twitched... and collapsed with my eyes closed.

....

When I regained consciousness and slowly raised my eyes, I looked into my wife's blue eyes. She was casually resting her head on her elbow and throned lounging nonchalantly supported on her side, spread out over Aman's spherical abdomen. The belly only partially covered Aman's crotch, so I didn't miss the five bright yellow smilies stroking his large, wrinkled scrotum. It's compact, gnarled shaft stretched out like a shadow-curved stump. The exceptionally thick, mushroom-shaped end pressed against Nicole's chest from below.

"It looks like your husband really likes it when we kiss!" We should keep it up, my pretty!"

"I'll get right back to you, my cheeky bull! For now, keep your comments to yourself and shut up!"

The words drifted through my head like a diffuse fog. My eyes searched in the darkness for our African guest. I looked past Nicole and his bulging belly. Somewhere at the other end of the sofa I saw the glow of two eyeballs and a half-moon grin in the twilight.

Then I looked again at the small group of yellow smilies walking tenderly through Aman's crouch. A casual intimacy, but that was precisely what made it appear familiar. A realization floated leaden through my clouded mind. I was no longer the only man to whom Nicole was tender. I had lost that exclusivity as well.

But I did not feel loss or resentment. On the contrary! This bizarre intimacy between my wife and this strange man excited me more and more. It held me in a pull that didn't diminish despite my climax. A part of me was ready to give up my place in the marriage bed to this African for that night, while I would have slept on the couch, listening to Nicole's distant moans drifting down from our bedroom. My stomach was in a turmoil at the thought.

A nudge jolted me out of my post-orgiastic dream. I looked down at my lap and saw Nicole's feet. The colors of Ethiopia had begun to caress my limp penis and massage my privates. At the same time, I noticed where my ejaculate had spread. I looked at my wife and apologized.

"Sorry Nicole. I was distracted for a moment and didn't realize where I... I mean where..."

"That's okay my darling, that's totally okay! I love it when you are so aroused and you let yourself go. Maybe you'd like to rub it on me."

Nicole's voice dripped through my head like honey. Her pretty face wasn't distorted by lust anymore, but radiated a loving affection that was only meant for me. A pleasant warmth mixed with the slowly dissipating hormonal cocktail my mind was marinating in after this epochal orgasm. I did her the favor and massaged my seed into the skin of her long legs.

"I love you Frank!... It makes me so incredibly happy that we could share this experience and enjoy it together."

I nodded lazily and smiled contentedly. My eyelids trembled. For a split second, my tiredness overwhelmed me. Somewhere in my consciousness I noticed a deep, guttural hum of a prolonged sigh. It sounded like someone drawing a bow over a double bass. But it was my wife's bright violin voice that finally pulled me out of that second, brief sleep.

"Frank...!"

My eyelids opened and my eyes turned in Nicole's direction.

"Yeah... what's up?"

"Are you online again?"

"Yeah,... I just fell asleep for a second. What is it, sweetie?"

"Would you like to take it a step further tonight?"

"What... what exactly do you mean?"

She did not answer. Instead, she slowly lowered her head to the compact shaft. She rubbed the tip of her nose against the circumcised, thick penis. Her long, slender fingers wrapped around the black column of flesh, the bright yellow nails pressing into the veiny ridges without completely encircling the thick shaft. Nicole looked at me with a mischievous smile and inhaled the spicy scent with pleasure. I fixed my gaze on this unique spectacle and felt the blood rush back into my abdomen.

She closed her eyes, took a few more circulating breaths, and then brought the mushroom-shaped end to her mouth. The half-open lips kissed the dark head of this large penis. A satisfied rumble came from the African's huge chest. I looked at the other end of the sofa and saw the blurry, crescent-shaped grin floating around.

"That's what I mean, darling!... How do you like that?"

I swallowed hard and looked at the surreal scene. Nicole's pale expression, her innocent smile, and the oversized mushroom-shaped stump right in front of her nose. She brought the head of the fleshy monster to her lips and sucked the gnarled shaft tightly under the mushroom shape.

"Oh yeah! That's it! You really are a dirty little slut!"

Nicole rolled her eyes, clearly disagreeing with the title, but made no further objection. Instead, she looked up at me and shrugged indifferently. Something in my expression seemed to pique her interest. She looked at me curiously, and I recognized a hidden smile flashing across that hard African face.

"Do you like it when he calls me that?"

"No!"

Her question came unexpectedly and my answer was nothing more than a reflex of good upbringing. But Nicole hit the nail on the head. I felt caught and ashamed that I liked it and was not man enough to admit it. So I revised my hasty answer.

"I mean... yeah!... Kind of!... But..."

"But?..."

"... You have to like it too!... Otherwise we shouldn't allow him call you that!"

Nicole continued to nibble on the ebony, Zebedee lost in thought, eliciting the next pleasant sigh from her African bull. Her eyes fell through me. Tons of serious thoughts seemed to be swirling around her pretty head. I watched her skillful lip play with fascination. It was a scene that would be burned into my memory forever. Eventually, my wife came out of her reverie. She broke off her oral caresses, looked at me, and produced her sweet, mischievous smile again.

"You know what Frank,... I'm going to heat up our guest a bit, then we'll throw him out, go up to the bedroom and then..."

"Yeah?... And then?" I croaked excitedly.

"Well, I'll leave that to your imagination, my darling!"

Nicole gave me a wink and a meaningful grin. She let her propped-up head roll out of her palm, pushed herself into an upright kneeling position and turned back to Aman.

"Is my beautiful gardener satisfied with his payment?"

"Well... I think the payment is not finished yet!"

"Oh... I see! Well, we should change that right away!"

A casual flirtation vibrated in Nicole's lascivious timbre. She leaned down on Aman's abdomen and lifted one knee to each side of his thighs. I looked up from her bottom at the pale silhouette of her back. Slowly, her torso descended into the twilight and she spread herself across the African's torso. She pushed her wide spread lap over his crotch and the black thong brushed over the hard shaft.

I looked petrified at this borderline touch. Lust and panic shot through my mind. The African's tree-root-like arms wrapped around her slender back, softly defined shades drifting beneath her milky skin. From the darkness at the other end of the couch came a gentle slap, accompanied by muffled sighs. The two kissed again. But this realization only touched the periphery of my consciousness. Petrified, I turned my attention to Nicole's spread lap and the curved, hard phallus trapped between its owner's abdomen and her mons pubis.

I felt my heart pounding in my chest, horrified and aroused at the same time by this sight. I considered intervening, but my fetish held me back, whispering that it was okay. It wasn't sex... just the air of the forbidden surrounding the moment like a prophecy of the future.

While I was still trapped in indecision, I noticed my wife's pelvis lift a little. Yellow nails dug beneath her belly, groping for the curved shaft of the African. Pale fingertips grabbed the gnarled black flesh and began to rub in a rapid rhythm.

"Yes! That's it! Make him cum little slut and show your husband how much you like it!"

"Why should I grant you this wish? You are rude! I already told you that I'm not a..."

Suddenly, a loud slap echoed through the living room, cutting Nicole off, and a surprised squeal escaped. The big black paw of the African had swooped down from nowhere and unleashed its kinetic energy on my wife's bare bottom.

"Yes! You are!... But don't worry about your reputation, beautiful! You are both a princess and a slut. Don't play games with me! Show me your depravity. Your husband will take it!"

Nicole's angular shoulder blades stood out as she calmly moved her upper body into a raised forearm rest and planted her elbows into Aman's overly broad chest muscles. The dark head tilted over her shoulder in my direction and she watched me breathe heavily. Her eyes were wide and a wild lust sparkled in her gaze. Aman had taken the initiative again and my wife seemed very pleased, even though there was a certain uncertainty smoldering in her heated expression.

"Is he right honey?... Is it really okay for you?"

Nicole's voice sounded like a long sigh. This time her rhetorical question left no room for anything other than agreement. My wife was burning with pleasure. That slap on her bottom had unleashed something I had never seen in her before. I put an affectionate smile on my face and gave her the answer she obviously wanted and which pleased me!

"He's right!... It's okay for me! Enjoy it!"

"It's not just okay for him! You are fulfilling his most fervent wish. So... give him what he wants!... Give all three of us what we want!"

The black paws massaged the buttocks. Nicole sighed and the blue eyes disappeared behind the curtain of long, dark eyelashes. I saw the doubt disappear. The softness in Nicole's expression returned and a transfigured dream suddenly wafted through her fine lines. Her head tilted back to Aman and collapsed between her supporting forearms. With a sonorous whisper, my wife announced her surrender.

"Then go ahead, my bull. Touch my ass and give it a few slaps! Take your reward for your hard work in the garden! I want to give my husband an unforgettable experience!"

Like centrifugal forces, her words carried us from a rational straight line into an ever steeper curve, and together we rushed out of that metaphorical bend in the road, not knowing where this lust-driven path would take us. A loud clap echoed through the living room again and Nicole screamed like she was out of her mind.

Stunned, my mind tried to comprehend what was unfolding before my eyes as the third slap landed on the defenseless buttocks. A sharp yelp followed Nicole's scream and ended in a moan of pain. Her upper body collapsed onto her tormentor's chest and stomach. My wife had just revealed to me a passion I had never suspected.

"Your husband looks a bit shocked! Has he never put you over his knee? You should try it, my friend. That great ass needs a little spanking!... On the other hand, maybe you should leave such chastisements in my experienced hands!"

"Shut up, cheeky bull!... Keep going!... Keep going!"

Another blow hit Nicole's buttocks like a whiplash.

"Oh my God!... Oh my God!...!"

Nicole's voice cracked and her long neck stretched toward the ceiling. Aman was clearly enjoying this punishment. I sat there dazed without intervening. Why should I? It was obvious that Nicole was enjoying this rough treatment. I saw the shadowy outlines of her dark hair, buried again in the crook of the African's neck. A soft whimper rose from there. It sounded whiny, but at the same time it was a testimonial for more blows.

I swallowed. Unable to think clearly, I watched as Aman's long, black fingers tenderly caressed the sensitive skin of her battered bottom. They rubbed her buttocks, as if those fingers were trying to soothe Nicole's flaring pain. But then both paws shot up as if accelerated by springs and hissed down on my wife's bottom with a brutal slap.

Nicole's entire body squirmed as if she had been electrocuted. A mournful wail echoed through the darkness. But there was no sound of protest or even a "stop". Aman pressed his paws into her buttocks and held the writhing body so that she could not escape. He kneaded bulges out of her aching flesh and pulled the buttocks apart. He exposed a wet glow that had emerged from under the edges of her thong.

"Now you can see what really gets your wife going, buddy! Maybe you could help me stimulate your mare a little! She won't let me touch her pussy!"

I jumped, surprised that our guest would suddenly hit me with his deep bass voice. My overstimulated skull struggled to process his words. Unique images, spicy scents, prolonged sounds full of devotion and desire flooded my mind and drove me into sexual madness. I was burning in the seclusion of a voyeuristic bubble. The request to become active seemed to me like an undertaking in which a distance of light years had to be bridged. In the end, I remained idle and continued to indulge in the dazzling sensory overload.

A rumbling whisper wound its way through the darkness. Aman seemed to be whispering instructions into my wife's ear. The shadows of her bowed skull blurred in a violent shake of the head, followed by a sharp "No! Despite this clear rejection, the guttural whispering continued stubbornly as the African's fingertips moved in concentric circles across Nicole's buttocks.

My wife sighed and whispered something to her bull. Electrified by the secrecy, I leaned forward and strained my ears, hoping to catch something. But it was in vain. Just another sharp "No" hissed out of that conspiratorial whisper and I felt myself getting hard again.

Aman's black fingers broke from their circling orbit and stroked the gentle swells of his buttocks, shimmering like two crescents in the darkness. They trickled down the side ribs and finally crawled into Nicole's shaved armpits. My wife giggled. Her upper body arched in all directions, trying to escape the touch.

"Stop it Aman!"

"I'm just stroking you, my beauty!"

"You're torturing me!"

"You like being tortured!"

"Not like this my cheeky bull!"

"I see!"

Suddenly, the bear-like paws shot up again and slammed down hard on Nicole's bottom. My wife screamed. Her back arched into a hollow, her head stretched toward the ceiling and her legs flailed wildly.

"Oh my God!... damn it!... You're such an asshole!"

"She's really a wild one,... your wife!... But she still won't let me touch her pussy! You guys have some stupid rules! Why is that?"

"She might get pregnant!"

The words dripped out of my mouth and at the same time I regretted my openness. With an uneasy feeling, I looked at the other end of the couch, but Aman's swollen face was barely visible in the dim firelight.

"Understood! Then I'll finger you, my little princess! I am sure that nothing dangerous will come out of my hands!"

"No! This is not happening! This is absolutely forbidden, Aman!... It's up to my husband to make me come! And it is up to me to do this for our hardworking gardener."

Nicole's voice echoed through the living room with the severity of a judge's verdict. I looked at her blurry silhouette. Her back rose and fell under excited breaths. She struggled to stand and fought her way back into a forearm support. Her disheveled hair tipped sideways over her shoulder and her clouded eyes found me and she smiled lovingly at me.

"Frank,... darling!"

"Yes..."

"Perhaps you should put another piece of wood in the fireplace and sit in that chair now. I want my darling to see everything clearly!"

Nicole's voice was so soft that her promising words were almost like a caress. Thousands of angry ants began to rampage through my intestines. I nodded, stood up slowly, and threw a log into the embers. Sparks began to fly, breathing life into the dying fire. On my way to the chair I heard the rustling of clothes. As I sat down, I glanced at the dark leather cushions and was astonished to see that Aman had taken off his pants and was now completely naked.

He was lying in a semi-reclining position in the corner of his couch with his legs spread wide. Nicole was on top of him. Slowly, her pale body slid down his dark, muscular, rock-like body. Like a tidal stream receding from a rugged shore. She covered the African's chest and stomach with countless little kisses, as if she really wanted to taste every square inch of his skin. Her lips slowly worked their way down until they reached their destination.

Yellow nails clawed into the giant's black thighs. I glanced sideways at Nicole's folded body kneeling between Aman's legs and saw her head lowering into his lap. One of my most desired fantasies was about to come true.

Tangled strands of hair hung down her long neck, dangling back and forth, covering Nicole's face. A thick black column rose from beneath her into this tangle of hair. It was as if her dark hair was anchored and swayed up and down in a gentle dedication. She showered Aman with beguiling tenderness, and in that moment I understood that Nicole desired this exotic body in a completely different way.

"You are a natural! As expected!... Does it taste good?"

The slow bobbing stopped and Nicole tilted her head back. With a demonic glint in her eyes, she looked at Aman, smiled and licked with a broad tongue from the scrotum to the knobbed head of his penis.

"It's always the same with you men. You actually believe that your cock taste is unique!"

"So you already have a lot of experience in sucking cocks! I knew there was a dirty slut in that innocent soul!"

Nicole didn't answer. She kept her eyes on the African. Her lips kissed the underside of his gnarled shaft. Unconsciously he had hit the nail on the head and it seemed as if she was looking for a suitable answer. Aman's questioning gaze held her in its grip. He obviously took her silence as an approval. A smug grin began to split his scowl.

"I knew it! There's a little evil demon deep in your soul that needs a lot more sex than she's getting!"

"Don't talk to me like that, Aman! Or my mouth won't finish what it started!"

"Don't be angry! It was a compliment coming from my mouth! I love women who have a lot of experience and obviously you are one of them! Am I right?"

"I'm not going to share my secrets with you!... That privilege belongs to my husband! Now shut up and enjoy your payment, my cheeky bull!"

For a moment I wondered why Nicole didn't just answer his question with a simple no. Maybe because she hated lies, or maybe because she deliberately wanted to keep this secret in suspense to irritate her bull and inspire his imagination. I pushed those question marks aside and watched as her head sank back into his lap. The devotional bobing continued. I grabbed my hard shaft and snuggled into my voyeuristic bubble.

....

Twenty-two minutes later, an incredible finale was solemnized before my wide-open eyes. Nicole's relentlessly devoted fellatio had driven her Black Bull to the delights of Elysia, until finally a bursting primal scream thundered through our house from the sofa.

As if through a swirling mist, I watched the frenetic motion of Aman's discharge, gulp after gulp, arching down my wife's long neck. A number of privileges protected by the seal of marriage had lost their exclusivity. The highlight, however, was Nicole's unique blowjob, which truly offered everything a man could desire. Jealousy gripped me. I couldn't remember my wife ever giving me such a multifaceted and persistent fellatio. Breathing heavily, I let my eyes drop. A wild hand job had made a mess in my lap.

"That was one hell of a blow job!... Wow!... I don't think a single drop was lost!"

"You're welcome my African beauty!"

With these words, Nicole blew a tender kiss on her bull's black gleaming penis head, which had a similar beefy shape to Aman's puffy face. It was an agonizing conclusion to an evening that further fueled my jealousy. For the first time that evening, my fetish seemed to be overfed. The voyeuristic pleasure had cooled so much that the otherwise sweet poison had a bitter aftertaste. It was time to get rid of this African bull.

Aman hung limply in the corner of the sofa. His head rested on the armrest and his heavy eyelids fought against drifting into a relaxed sleep. Nicole rose from her collapsed position. She knelt with her beautiful naked body between Aman's legs, looked at me and smiled shyly. Staggering, she got off the leather cushion and walked over to me. With a mischievous expression, she registered my approval, which was visible all over my pants and my hand. She leaned down and whispered in my ear.

"Did you enjoy your evening, darling?"

I looked up at her with heavy eyelids. I, too, was struggling with fatigue, and a whirlwind of unordered thoughts was racing through my head. No doubt they had been a revelation in the past few hours. But they were also a beacon for a future that would be riskier and probably not just filled with pleasurable moments for us in the stall.

For the first time that evening, a latent worry bubbled up in me. Our togetherness had opened wide for this stranded refugee, and it was likely that it would open even wider. In retrospect, the final act of that memorable tête-à-tête worried me. I sincerely hoped that this titan of strength was actually healthy.

But this worry was accompanied by another feeling. All the doubts sprinkled like a seasoning on the sober analysis of my struggling mind. I felt that the risks of this adventure were not only worrisome, but also exciting. They sharpened the present and launched that tingling thrill of nerves. Nevertheless, sensible considerations had to be made to at least keep the risk within acceptable limits. But Nicole and I would discuss this topic at another time.

"Yes! I enjoyed this evening! Actually very much! But it is too early for a final conclusion, Nicole! Let's talk about it tomorrow! Now I want to go to our bedroom and enjoy one of the privileges I still have as a husband only with you.

"So you want to fuck me?"

"Yes... That is exactly what I want, my horny little Tinkerbell!"

Nicole grinned in amusement and started to nibble at my earlobe with her lips. Her hot breath drifted towards me and a scent of nutty musk wafted under my nose.

"Do you even like kissing me now?"

The scent intensified. I took a deep breath and inhaled the unique blend. My heart pounded and suddenly I was wide awake. I bent my head towards Nicole and sank into her moist, shiny lips. The beguiling taste of this kiss eclipsed any kiss before. It became a minute-long pleasure. At some point, a dark voice from the corner of the sofa finally interrupted our floating togetherness.

"How does she taste now, Frank?"

We pulled away from each other. Nicole rolled her eyes and a cheeky grin stretched the corners of her mouth.

"Let's get rid of him now, Frank!"

"An excellent idea!"

....

Ten minutes later, the farewell ceremony had progressed to the point where all three of us were standing in the hallway. Nicole, dressed in her kimono, leaned into my arm and buried her head in the crook of my neck. Aman had just pulled on his worn-out sneakers and looked at us, ready to go.

"I hope Frank succeeds quickly, because if you're pregnant, we won't need this damn rule anymore."

"You fantasize too much!... It's getting late! Time to end this evening. I have to take care of my husband now.... Thank you for a very nice evening."

"I see! You two want to have fun without me. Go ahead! You'll find it's more fun with me!"

"If you say so, my cheeky bull!"

The sarcasm in my wife's reply was unmistakable. I couldn't suppress a small grin. Aman's eyes began to dart between me and Nicole. A low hiss flashed across his face. He obviously wasn't as amused as I was. Predatory features appeared on his brawny face and I guessed he was up to something. Finally, his bulging kissing lips curled into a wide grin and his glowing eyeballs turned to me.

"Do you have a pen, Frank? Waterproof?"

"Sure! Why?"

"For a bet. Please get a pen, buddy. I'll explain everything then!"

Nicole and I looked at each other. My wife shrugged indifferently and obviously just wanted to go to bed with me. I decided to give in to our guest's wish and quickly went into my office, returning a few seconds later with a black, waterproof pen. It had a wide tip and was relatively unsuitable for writing, but it was the best I had found in a hurry.

"Here you go! A waterproof pen... and now what?"

"Now I'm going to write my cell phone number on your wife's back and I bet you'll call your new gardener before the writing washes off! If not, I'll work for free next time! Your wife won't have to pay me!... If I win, I get to make a wish for my gardening!"

I snorted into my cheeks and began to nervously pace on my feet. This African was brash, uncouth, and yet he knew how to keep my fetish on a leash. At the thought of him leaving a last farewell greeting on my wife's skin that would definitely take days to fade, I felt a crazy tingling sensation in my stomach.

I looked at Nicole, who was already studying me carefully, and her lips pursed thoughtfully. I stopped rocking up and down and shrugged indifferently. Nicole's eyes darted to our guest while her bright yellow nails began to nestle against the bow of her kimono as if in slow motion. She took two steps and stood between us, finally turning her back to the African. Slowly, the red fabric slid down her forearms, exposing Nicole's torso.

"We're always happy to have free help in our garden, so go ahead! Write your number on my back. If you actually win, you will get your wish! But there will be no sex! And I want you to accept that! It's too tiring for me to keep stressing this rule!"

"I accept this rule! I promise!"

"Then go ahead, my cheeky bull! I finally want to have sex with my husband!"

With a concentrated expression, Aman looked at her bare back and began to write. I noticed goose bumps on my wife's body. Nicole looked me straight in the eye, and there was something transfigured about her gaze. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who felt the thrill of this game.

"You have quite a long number! What are you painting?"

"Well... I see you like it, beautiful, so here's a little farewell!"

"Hurry up, you cheeky bull! Your number is enough for me!"

About three minutes later, Aman finished his work and looked at it with a satisfied expression on his face. He put the pen aside, placed his strong paws on my wife's bare shoulders and kissed her neck for goodbye.

"Good night, my beauty! Dream something nice about us!"

Aman's voice was a single deep throb, the vibrations sounded through the room to me. This man had an incredible voice. My wife's eyelids closed and I noticed a shiver running through her body. Her head tilted forward and the goodnight kiss on her neck dragged on.

Nicole was so breathtakingly beautiful at that moment. I sucked in this sensual black and white image in awe until Aman finished his lip play and a small hickey glowed on her pale skin. He whispered something in her ear. Nicole's clouded eyes cleared. She looked at me appraisingly as she nibbled at her lower lip. It was one last little secret pumping its sweet poison through my veins. Finally, Aman let her go and opened the front door, nodding in my direction as he walked out.

"Good night to you too, buddy, and thanks again!"

He looked at me with an expression that showed genuine gratitude. I was amazed that this bulldog face was capable of such emotion. With a wink, he disappeared into the darkness. Then it was just the two of us, Nicole and I, looking at each other. She arched an eyebrow and grinned mischievously. She slowly turned around so I could see her back.

"So... what did that guy scribble on my back?"

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. Incredulous, I marveled at the waterproof goodbye message he had written for me on my wife's milky skin.