The Neighbor- Ch. 16
To my loyal readers- THANK YOU for sticking this one out. It has been over a year since this whole saga started. What started as a story with some elements of truth, like chapters 1, 2, & 3, sort of grew a life of its own.
I have received much support and helpful criticism along with some commentary that was probably best left unsaid. But that comes with the territory when an Author puts him or herself out there.
The Author hopes you find enjoyment in this work. If you are new to the series, this chapter won't make any sense unless you have gone back several chapters, perhaps even the beginning. I urge you to do so. They are worth your time. That said, it is time to read on...
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It took almost two weeks before everything was settled to everyone’s satisfaction. Well, everyone’s but mine. I was so horny I couldn’t even walk without getting thoughts about a big black cock inside me. Preferably the one attached to this rather imposing black man who had the face only a mother could love, a body only an offensive lineman would love, and a cock I could not stop wanting to love. I was growing cock-crazed, especially after the day’s long gang-****** I had endured. Yes, it was terrifying, in the moment, but in the end, I was dreaming about black cocks, black men, and black cum. In the day I was fantasizing about it. I had realized that my trip to Nigeria would forever change me, and not in a way that would be good for my marriage. But not all was bad, so to speak.
I had finally found a way to check with Steve often, on top of my daily video chats. I had managed to befriend the embassy communications officer, and just send text messages, to let him know I was thinking of him. It was a small thing, but I still wanted him to know I loved him. Deep down, in my heart of hearts, I loved him beyond measure. But physically, I just wasn’t that into him. I loved him, but I didn’t want him. So many black men had been screwing me that I was becoming addicted to them. I was addicted to the raw fucking, and the orgasms. I was forever attached to the way they didn’t try and be soft, gentle, or careful. They weren’t after my heart, they were taking my body, and I relished it. I was so addicted to it that had I to do it over again, I might have just surrendered to it all. I was beginning to think that I could never enjoy my husband in bed again. Not if he was going to treat me like fine crystal. Not if he was going to treat me like he could break me. I now knew he couldn’t. Dozens of men had tried, and the only result I had was endless orgasms. It was obvious to me that I needed therapy, especially if I was going to be able to resurrect my marriage. But above all, I needed to see the General. At least one last time.
But with an embassy-issued tablet and charger, I was allowed to visit the General. It would be quite the affair. I would be allowed to ride in one of the embassy SUVs, accompanied by my own personal Marine Security Platoon, as well as the General’s security team. To be even safer, the General had to meet me at the embassy and ride in the SUV, while our procession was driven to the General’s compound. I also had to answer my tablet when a video call came in. It would be the Marine personnel checking on me. I also could video chat with my husband about it, should he call. Once inside the compound, the Marines would wait for me, and I would then return with them at the end of the night.
It was kind of comical as if I was being chaperoned on a date when I was a teen girl, only these chaperones had orders to keep me safe, and all sorts of equipment to do just that. Even Garcia came along, holding his trusty machine gun. Olga came along as well, armed and equipped to shoot whomever she needed to, and then patch them up. The world was so complicated now. All for a white wife to visit the black man who fathered his black child in her. I had even asked if he could just have dinner with me inside the embassy, but for reasons unknown, I was told it was not possible. My communications friend finally leaked that the General had begun to fall into disfavor with the US Government because he had failed to deliver on his promises and that only my repeated requests to see the father of my child had allowed this all to happen. Had the General not fathered a child in me, there was no way I would have been permitted to go. But then, if he hadn’t, I would be back home, with ****** and friends.
Which made me think of Juwon. I missed him. I had gotten a few emails from him, including pictures. He was safely at college, and learning about college life, though oddly, no girl was hanging around him yet. He mentioned that Freshmen usually didn’t get many groupies, and he had yet to prove himself. He had, however, impressed his football coaches, and was hoping to make it into the starting lineup at some point. His pictures were of his dorm room, his roommate, a hunky black athlete himself, and the campus, but his last e-mail had a picture of his erect cock. A cock I had grown to become attached to as well. The cock that had fucked me many times, including one special moment in front of my husband. Between Juwon, his cock pics, my fantasies of the General’s cock, and my hormones raging, I was becoming crazy with need. I even considered the potential when I got back to the United States of visiting Juwon, fucking him unconscious, and then letting his roommate have me as well. Or maybe they both could have me at the same time? Lord, I needed to get laid.
When it finally came to my ‘date’, I wore a simple, colorful caftan and heels. It was just too blazing hot out for anything more, and I only added panties. My breasts were fuller and had gained a cup, to where I was a solid D-cup. The only problem was I hadn’t the foresight to bring any larger bras, so most of the time I went bra-less. I had even tried one of Olga’s, at her insistence, and her’s wasn’t even close. She was still bigger. So, it was braless until I could get one from the States. It was how I found out that online companies do not ship to a good part of the African continent, if at all. Oh, and I still had that blasted collar around my neck. I had grown used to it, actually, but my greatest fear was that it would rust from my showering and stain my skin or something. There was still no solution to remove it locally.
I was surprised to see the front seat occupied by Mr. Wilson, my embassy liaison. Evidently, for this first trial run, I would be chaperoned! Damn!
“Ah, good evening, Suzi, I have longed to see you again.”
I heard that familiar voice from what seemed like ages ago. Looking aside, it was the General, as he hefted his considerable bulk into the SUV and sat next to me. Other than being in his uniform and regalia, he looked like it was a normal Spring Day. The heat wasn’t bothering him, while Mr. Wilson and I had the air conditioning on ice-cold.
“Honestly, I have wanted to see you again, face to face. We are long overdue to talk, General.”
It was difficult to keep my tone even as I was at once wanting to hop on him and have him fuck me stupid right then and there, while at the same time wanting to strangle him for getting me pregnant in the first place.
Right then, Mr. Wilson piped in.
“Mrs. Recreant, and General, please realize that this is a trial run. If things go smoothly, we can look forward to more of these… meetings. But if something goes wrong, this will be the only time you two will be allowed to see each other, no matter what. So please be civil, and make the most of our time.”
I found it interesting that the evening wasn’t called a date, but a meeting. Perhaps that was the justification for the outing? I looked at Mr. Wilson and was about to speak when he cut me off.
“Yes, Mrs. Recreant, you are not to be left alone. Not for this first visit. You see, I get orders, too. I am sure to keep the peace between our two countries, and you two are part of that. So, we shall dine together, and I’ll mostly stay quiet and let the two of you talk.”
I changed my mind and just sighed, and began to look out the window, but it was the General who first spoke.
“Suzi, I was saddened to hear of your misfortunes when you first arrived in my country. I would like to reassure you that such an occurrence shall not repeat itself. My troops have been actively eliminating any future risks to you.”
“I guess I should say thank you. But I want to make sure you know how much danger my child, I mean, OUR child, was in?”
“Oh, yes, Suzi. I am well aware of it. It was your Mr. Smith who helped us with some of the information we needed to put an end to it.”
I looked from the General to Mr. Wilson, with a raised eyebrow. ‘Who in the Hell was Mr. Smith?’ my gaze was asking.
“That would be John.”
My curiosity assuaged; I looked back to the General.
“Something your whole country needs to work on.”
Okay, so I was icy in tone. I was still pissed. Had it not been for that, I likely could have been the General’s Mistress this entire time, which I was wanting at this moment.
“Suzi, do you have any questions for me?”
To his credit, the General was working to be civil, a change from the way he was in the United States. There, he had been domineering, even abrasive, not to mention abusive. Of me, at least.
“Yeah, actually, I do. What can I call you? I am struggling with your last name. You have no idea how badly I have mangled your name to so many people.”
That made him chuckle.
“For our purposes, please just call me Oba. It is one of my first names, of which I have a few. I would have shared this with you at our last meeting if you had not so suddenly departed from my bed.”
He gave Mr. Wilson a very smarmy look. To his credit, Wilson didn’t even flinch. I realized I would never want to play poker against him.
“Oba, and thank you for sharing your first name with me, I had to depart as I was nearly naked, in a very high-class resort, it was daylight and I was with my boyfriend. It would have been a social disaster to be seen naked with you, or even with the cape I was wearing. I had a hard enough time getting a new room key as it was.”
Oba snorted.
“Come now, Mrs. Recreant…” He emphasized the ‘Mrs.’ “I know you are a married woman and I know you aren’t the sixteen-year-old girl you were presented as. At the time, you managed to pull it off, but the moment I learned you were pregnant, I was told differently. Which is why I had lawyers sue you to keep my child. You see, I do not have an heir, and my ‘wife’, if you can call her that, cannot bear one.”
My eyebrows raised as I heard all of this and managed to see Wilson taking some notes.
“I’m sorry, Oba, I didn’t know that. So, your alternative was to grab me and force me to get pregnant?”
He chuckled, shaking his head.
“Oh, no, dear Suzi. You were just a target of opportunity. A political pawn, of sorts. When I caught you and your young man on the balcony, I knew you were going to be easy. It also made me doubt you two were in a relationship. A man should respect his girl, and he disrespected you greatly. I never would have done that with you, which is why I had you come to my room. And yes, while you may say I ***** you, not once did you scream for help, or grab for the phone. When Mr. Chukwu informed me of your experience on the beach, I knew you were for the taking. So, I took my turn, once I found you.”
“Excuse me? You had been looking for me?”
“Oh yes. I had Mr. Chukwu take you to get you alone and to make you vulnerable so I could have you with little risk of your making a scene or being too resistive. I had him make you need to be saved, in a way. Of course, getting your young man away from you was the easy part.”
I had to stare at him for a few moments, gathering my thoughts as I went through all the permutations. Was it true? Had I just been some white girl of opportunity? Had I overplayed my hand with Juwon at the resort? Did I play my part too well? What I thought had been clear and concise was getting much cloudier.
“Okay, so let’s set the record straight. First of all, Juwon and I were an item. We were lovers and hiding it from both our families. When we were at the resort, we had even started thinking of how to become more public. Juwon and I even made love in front of my husband before I left to come here.”
It was my turn to watch The General consider this before I went on.
“I went to this awards thing purely to help Juwon. I was told it would be a big career move for him, in your politics. I went along to help him, not become the mother of your child. So, get that right out of your head….”
But even as I was thinking of it, my eyes dipped to glance at the man’s trousers. I was so close, yet so far from the beast that had tamed me. The cock that had bred me. The cock that had claimed me.
It became his turn to think for a moment, all the while Mr. Wilson was taking note after note.
“Perhaps, Suzi, perhaps. But this is how things turned out. Your young Juwon now has his future set. He has powerful allies, including me. His ****** is also better off, politically. Her Highness, Princess Akanni, now has more power in her title as well. Never underestimate her, Suzi, she has more skill than you know. While she likes you, it was her plan all along to use you as a tool to help her young man, nothing more. Which reminds me. When we last were in my bed, I spoke to you of never getting my cock out of your mind. Can I presume this still is true? Do not deny it. I have seen your eyes.”
It was my turn to take a breath and look out the window. I was at once humiliated, angry, and turned on by this conversation, with my humiliation made all the worse with Wilson listening in.
“Look… Genre. Oba… We need to come to some sort of accommodation here. I am here because you pulled some bullshit strings to get me here, not because you wanted my child to bear Nigerian citizenship. I talked to an attorney before I left. Since you admitted paternity, our child will automatically be given dual citizenship. I didn’t need to come here, and I am sure you knew that. You want me here for something else. I’ll bet that while your cock has a claim on me, my pu-... my vagina has a hold on you, too.”
Before Oba could say anything, I looked to Wilson and addressed him very directly.
“Listen and listen good, Mister. You are hearing things that are best left between the two of us. You even breathe a word of this outside of this vehicle, and I am going to tell Garcia you tried to molest me, at the General’s urging. I am going to make that young Marine hate you so badly that even his stare will kill your soul. Then I am going to tell John that you outed him. I will then tell the Ambassador that you were sucking Oba’s cock because you are a flaming faggot in disguise. I’ll make you one compromised sonofabitch if you even think about considering releasing what you have heard. Are we clear?”
Good ol’ Mr. Wilson was taken aback at my verbal threats, and he had to take a moment himself, while Oba looked on in wry amusement. There was this weird power triangle going on, and innocent young Suzi was suddenly showing fangs that nobody knew about. But then, I didn’t, either. It just sorta’ came out of me. After taking a deep breath, Wilson held up his notepad.
“Mrs. Recreant, I don’t care about your personal life and how you wound up here. But your General has to hold up his end of the agreements our government has made with him, and very soon, he will find out exactly what the US government is capable of doing.”
Okay, so for now, I was assured and more comfortable, but I did look at Oba. He held up a single hand.
“Have no fears, woman. I am not about to leak any of our conversations. Remember, I am a part of this, too, and you hold my ****** line in your womb. I was serious about wanting to protect you because it is in my self-interest.”
Okay, so the playing field was now more or less level, and I was now a player in this, rather than just a pawn.
“And yes, Dear Suzi, I do not mind admitting that I do find you a special lover. I would have you in my bed as often as I can manage while you are here. Were it possible, I would put another child in you before you departed?”
I looked at him with a shocked look. A second child by him had never even entered my mind! But the sex with him was so amazing, I didn’t know if I could resist him. I mean, I know if he got his hands on me, I could not deny him, he simply was too big and too strong, plus his cock had the power to make me wilt right in front of him, and probably my husband, too. I finally admitted to myself that I would not deny him, either. But I hadn’t even considered the fact he wanted more children. Was that even a possibility? How long would I be in Nigeria, after all?
My musings were interrupted by our arrival at the place where our ‘dinner meeting’ was arranged. It was a nicer building, modern and incredibly secure. Nigerian soldiers were all around, and my Marine detachment also took up their place. I noticed the military folks said little as if it were all pre-arranged. Once inside, we were in a nicely appointed room, with all the fittings of a higher-class place in the US. But the table was only set for three, and I was seated in the middle. It was then I discovered that I was about to be ignored, for the most part.
The men got down to business, and now Wilson was taking prolific notes, while I sat there and ate, while trying to follow the conversation. My only real involvement was to feel Oba’s hand on my thigh, much like before. I had to hand it to him. He could certainly multi-task, talking to Wilson about things I had no clue of understanding, as his hand managed to slide under my caftan and begin feeling my bare skin to where I felt his fingertips brush along the top of my landing strip. It was making me wet with need, and I had some hope Oba and I would be able to steal a few minutes away, where he could just grab me and shove his cock in me so I could scream in relief. I wanted his cock inside me so badly, it was hurting!
But too soon, Wilson called dinner to an end, and while Oba stayed behind, I was escorted out with a smiling Wilson. On the way back, all Wilson said was that I had performed magnificently and that there would be more dinner meetings soon enough. He was all smiles and nearly bubbling.
“I want to have time with him alone, Wilson.”
“In time, Suzi, in time.”
My hands went to my growing belly, now fast approaching six months along.
“Mr. Wilson, I am fighting a biological clock here. In time needs to be damn soon.”
He glanced over at me and frowned thoughtfully.
“I’ll see what I can arrange. But keep in mind, his access to you all depends on his cooperation. He finally made a good start tonight.”
“I’ll keep him talking, then.”
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It took two more of these “dates” before everyone felt comfortable enough for me to go alone with Oba. By this time, I was so horny that my vagina had grown fangs! So, tonight’s date was at Oba’s private residence, a rather ornate and palatial estate about 30 minutes from the embassy. I still had my US Marine friends, and now Olga went seemingly everywhere. I was even allowed out on small, one-hour trips, but I was never without a member of my protective detail. Not even to go pee. But it was something. Oba also had a contingent of his troops about, and between the two, I felt very safe.
I did have my tablet with me so that I could make a short video call with my husband. It was previously scheduled, and I insisted on having a few minutes of privacy to talk with him, to keep my marriage intact. Steve had more or less grown accustomed to my current status, but for reasons unknown, he was still stuck stateside. So, I made it a point to keep those meetings. When I arrived, Oba greeted me, but not in his uniform, but in some soft covering that looked like a tent, in a way, but he was able to move about easily, and his arms were free. He greeted me at my SUV and hugged me warmly, which I returned with a soft squeak. He, of course, enveloped me, while I was more or less getting my hands on the front half of him. I had taken to wearing caftans pretty much full-time, now, due to the heat, the comfort, and my growing belly. By all reports, Oba’s black child was healthy and growing normally inside me. But I was now past the halfway point, and I hoped to be back home before Spring.
“Ahh, Suzi, my beauty. How is the mother of my house doing?”
“I’m good, Oba. Just normal pregnancy stuff. Although we should talk more privately inside. I trust being able to have a short chat with my husband will still be okay?”
“Of course, Suzi, all is as I have agreed to. Your Mr. Wilson drives a hard bargain.”
As we conversed idly, we entered his home, and I made a beeline to go pee. My bladder was starting to hold less and less, which was made even worse by the amount of water and juices I was being made to drink to stay hydrated. Because I was so cooped up at the embassy, I was having difficulty adjusting to the Nigerian heat.
I was finished and cleaned up, and as I reached for the door, an idea hit me. Just to communicate some... expectations. I reached under my silky caftan and drew down my panties. When I reached Oba, I simply dangled them from my index finger and offered them. He looked down into my eyes as I looked up into his, my soul bared. No words were exchanged as he took my panties. He got the message. Not that he would need to have my panties off, but it helped speed things up.
We had a light meal and chatted about mindless things until it came to the future of my child.
“Suzi, what are your plans after you deliver my child?”
“Well, since I will have given you a baby, I will have fulfilled everything you demanded. Legally, I can go home, and frankly, the embassy and the Marines would rather see me go home. I think they are tired of the shenanigans I have put them through.”
He frowned thoughtfully for a moment, looking into my eyes, as I looked over the rim of my water glass into him.
“I want you to stay, Suzi.”
“Say what?”
“I want you to stay, Suzi. I have found a great desire for you, and how you are sexually. No woman I have been with since our magic night has come even close to you. I think of you often. So much so that I would have you be my bride.”
My jaw must’ve stuck open, as water dribbled onto the table before I could recover. I hastily set it down and used my napkin to dab at the mess. I needed a way to respond, to not get his hopes up. I am married, and as soon as could be arranged, I am getting my ass home, preferably First Class on a Boeing 777. But for now, I still badly wanted his cock. I cleared my throat as I spoke carefully.
“Oba… I am flattered. But you know I am already married in America. We don’t allow a man to have two wives, and I am sure that a woman cannot have two husbands. Frankly, I would rather not let the one I have got away. He’s a great man.”
“I am sure he is Suzi; I would not insult his honor that way. But I would still have you be the mother of my children. I have seen you respond under great trials, and you hold an inner strength that tells me my children will be raised properly. Physically, you are small, but your heart is great. So, I want you to remain as my wife.”
“Oba, I just can’t. Even if I wanted to, there were too many complications back in my home. I have a husband, I have friends, I have a life waiting for me to return.”
As soon as I finished speaking, one of his minions approached him and whispered in his ear.
“Ah, Suzi. I am told it is time for you to have your chat with your husband. Perhaps help me by speaking with him about this? Who knows, he may be more interested than you know?”
I rose, collected my tablet, and shook my head.
“Oba, believe me, I will tell him. But be prepared. If he says yes, then I will likely need a doctor, as I will have had a heart attack.”
Shaking my head, I simply made my way to a proffered room, my heels clicking loudly on the polished tile floor. I was still wearing heels because I had not been allowed to go buy regular shoes or flip-flops for so long that my legs had grown tighter, or something, and so heels were my most comfortable footwear. At least that was what the doctor said. I could get physical therapy when I got home, I was told. On the plus side, the government was buying me new heels about every other week, at my request. My tax-payer dollars were at work! The inside of the room was a bedroom rather nice, very clean and there was ample lighting and a table and chair for me. There was a queen-size bed there as well. I set up my tablet and was able to grab a good internet signal and video-called my husband.
“Hey, my Love! How’s my man?”
I was so very cheerful and happy to see him. He looked pretty good, actually, but it looked like he was still at work in his office.
“Hey, babe, how’s my main squeeze?”
Ahh, it was so good to hear that familiar teasing. My being his main girl, as if there were others. Though, frankly, if he had been having sex for sexual purposes while I was gone, I could not hold it against him. Not after everything that had happened to me. So, if he was getting rid of a load of steam, fine. Just so long as I was not going to get cast aside in all this. If that was going to be the case, then I might very well reconsider Oba’s desires.
“I’m good. I’m just finishing dinner. Oba had me over.”
“Ah. So where are you? Is that his bedroom?”
I looked behind me. My husband was, justifiably, suspicious. After all, I was in some man’s home, in some bedroom.
“Actually… I don’t know, but I doubt it is his. I think this is a guest room. This isn’t keeping in his style.”
As I looked back at Steve, I heard the door quietly close.
“Who’s that?”
“Uhh, Honey, this is Oba. The General as I used to call him before I got to learn his first name. Well, one of them.”
I was looking back at Oba as he approached. I could see the front of his caftan beginning to show his arousal.
“Oba, what are you doing?”
“I came to show you how serious I am of my offer.”
“What offer?” Steve’s voice was tinny over the tablet’s speaker.
Oba leaned down over me from behind, and I was in too much shock to realize what he was doing. As he began to speak, his hands had collected the hem of my caftan and he roughly lifted it, ******** me to him, and my husband! Once I was nude, his free hand first drove to my breast, and he took a handful of my pale, swollen flesh in his palm and he began to squeeze it, my nipple hardening from his calloused palm.
“What the fuck?”
My husband and I both uttered loudly, though he was more of a demanding question, mine was more of an exclamation.
Oba’s free arm wrapped under my belly, and he hefted me up, from the chair, my now nude white body in his thick dark black arms. I started to try and get free of him, knowing what was now coming.
“Oba! No! Not like this!”
“Suzi, you will show your husband the same as me, your answer…”
I was not that surprised that as I could hear my husband yelling at Oba to stop, and I was crying for him to stop, he did no such thing. His hand released my breast, and he used his free hand to now aim his long and thick black cock at my slit, until he had my slickness coating his cock head, the heavy mushroom escaping the confines of his equally large foreskin. For the first time, I got a good look at him, and despite his 300 pounds of flab, his cock had to be pushing fifteen inches! It made sense, though, how a man of his bulk could stick his black warrior into any woman he wanted and still turn her into a black cock-crazed and lusting slut.
I was holding onto his arm, trying to somehow pry it off me, while my legs flailed, my head turning to and fro as he again began to take me. Was I being *****? At that moment, yes. If he had waited another ten minutes, I would have been willingly in his bed. Or on his patio, or in his driveway. Wherever he wanted to fuck me. But now, he was aiming his cock, using it to slide my petals apart, until I was opened. I could see with a fast glance that my husband was watching intently, as my attention was then stolen away from the screen and upwards as that black spear finally engaged in my opening and he began to lower my pregnant body onto his. Or rather, make my small body get impaled by his prodigious spear.
My back arched and my legs stiffened while I cried out lustfully as he began to thrust his hips, driving me lower, forcing my pussy to open for him. It was slow going, an inch or two each time, until Oba was comfortable enough to release his shaft and use both hands to hold me tight, one around my waist, and the other on that damn collar I still had to wear. Then he simply began to push me down by my torso, while I cried out passionately with every thrust. It was when my voice changed pitch from ‘holy shit this feels great’ to ‘Oh, fuck STOP’ that he ceased trying to impale me. I was held up by his arm, my collar, and his cock, while my heels were still a few inches off the ground. Just as at the resort, I was now his sexual captive. Holding steady, while he allowed my body to adjust to him, he looked at the screen and my husband.
“Have you watched your wife having sex, Mr. Recreant?”
Steve, to his credit, didn’t say anything, though I am sure he was thinking of that precious night when Juwon had sex with me in my husband’s view, and with his blessing. His face was stoic and stony.
“I am sure you know how much she has enjoyed me in the past, as I have enjoyed her. I know she still lusts for me. She has told you, no?”
“Steve! Don’t listen to him!”
“It explains why she isn’t wearing underwear.”
Steve’s voice was flat.
It was then I felt my body begin to be hefted up and then allowed to sink by gravity. Each ascension was six to eight inches, maybe, and the slide back down was slow and inexorable. This position was, for me, the equivalent of doggy, or standing, and the soft sensitive underside of that magnificent black cock was massaging my own sweetest sensitive spot, and I was beginning to see sounds and hear colors before long. I started moaning loudly.
“Mr. Recreant, did she tell you yet that I asked her a question?”
“No.” came the flat response.
Then came several more thrusts, and my voice was growing louder. My hands had released his arms, and my hands were now beginning to claw at the air. The sexual pleasure was massive. I was so horny, so needy, and so wanting that, for a change, I could feel an orgasm building rapidly inside me. I would not last long, and to ensure that, Oba began to increase the speed of his hefty bulk lifting and dropping me from and then back onto his black babymaker. My legs were now flopping up and down in unison as my body reacted to being fucked his way.
“Suzi, I want you to be my wife.”
“WHAT?”
I heard my husband shout into the camera.
I was being fucked even more rapidly, now, as my husband could only yell repeatedly into the camera, as he watched my debasement. Oba was fucking me faster and faster, as my body rose to ever higher sexual pleasure.
“Please… no!”
I managed to cry out.
“Steeeeeve!”
That was my last word before I was shattered by an orgasm, which had me shaking so hard that I almost slipped from Oba’s grasp. Only his finger in the ring of my collar held my torso fast to his. The sheen of sweat on my body made my body slippery in his grasp. Perhaps the only thing to keep me from falling onto the floor was that incredible black shaft. I remember my voice crying out, my wail of sexual pleasure and release echoing off the walls, and my eyes went hazy for a few moments, as Oba continued to fuck me in front of my husband.
“Suzi… You will marry me?”
His deep voice was almost issuing me a command, and it was getting harder to say anything, but my resolve remained.
Oba continued to thrust into me, harder and faster, making my voice wail out as I had a second orgasm in short order, my voice wailing loudly as my body clenched, my pussy bearing down on his magnificent cock. I was now holding onto him the only way I could, which was to reach up and hold him by the neck. Oba was ******** my leaking pussy to my husband as his black cock was making me orgasm, and then he finally bucked sharply and had his climax, and I could almost tell his cock was now pumping his virile seed into me. All on camera, where my husband was forced to watch.
“Suzi… I asked you a question… Will you be my wife?”
I was gasping for air, moaning in a long purr, like a kitten who has gotten too much catnip. Only my addiction was to that amazing black cock buried deeply inside me, spurting hot, fresh blasts of his seed into my vagina and coating my plugged cervix.
“Yes.”
The only thing I remember saying was “Yes.” I don’t know why I said it. It just seemed like it was important to say it. Maybe it was my body overruling my mind, or my body in that ecstasy of post-sexual bliss, or my only way to tell Oba I needed more of his cock. Perhaps it was just a question and my OCD to leave no loose ends on anything. I don’t know. But yeah, I had agreed to marry the man who had ***** me, given me his child, and now had ***** me in front of my husband. Oba now had his power over me, and like at the resort, I could not deny him. At that moment, I was his wife.
Oba was kind enough to allow me to rest, and he set me on the bed on all fours, where I promptly fell flat forward and was getting comfy for a nap. Oba went to the tablet to speak to Steve.
“Hmmm. Odd. It seems Mr. Recreant has disconnected the call.”
That was the last thing I remembered until I awoke from my nap.
It was perhaps thirty minutes later that one of Oba’s servants came to me, gently shaking me to wakefulness, and holding out my caftan. The fact I was lying out, nude, didn’t seem to faze the man as he helped me dress and get back on my feet.
“Miss Suzi, you must hurry, there is a commotion at the gate!”
So, I hurried as best as a now 6-months pregnant woman can, emerging into the courtyard, and a glare of lights. I could hear voices, many of them, and there was Oba and the Gunnery Sergeant. Both men looked rather angry.
“Mrs. Recreant! It is time for you to leave!”
“No, she has now become my wife, and she stays with me!”
I rolled my eyes as they resumed this bickering.
“General, release her at once, or we shall be forced to consider her a kidnap victim and take positive action to recover her! This is your first, last, and only warning!”
I could see that Gunny was using his particular level of diplomacy. It explained why everybody pretty much feared him.
I noticed the Marines starting to steel themselves up for battle. They were unslinging weapons, tightening chinstraps, and gearing up, while I noticed Garcia in the shadows with his favorite machine gun. It dawned on me that, unlike last time, my security detachment wasn’t letting me be held against my will. They had learned from my last escapade.
Meanwhile, Oba’s troops were similarly getting ready, only they didn’t have all of the fancy stuff that the Marines had. They would have put up a fight, but given their training, equipment, and motivation, my money was on being successfully ‘rescued’. Rolling my eyes, I decided I had seen enough and took it upon myself to intervene, before somebody got hurt.
“Hey! Don’t I get a vote in this?”
My soft voice was no match for either man, but they both stopped and looked at me.
“Oba… Relax, Lover.”
I placed my hand on his shoulder and slid my touch down his arm as I moved to stand between both men.
“Gunny… It is true. I have agreed to marry this man.”
I think he showed a facial expression, which was a first. Well, other than his usual ‘I’m gonna rip off your head and shit down your neck!’ sense of congeniality.
I looked back to Oba.
“Please… relax. I am going to return to you. But I can’t just abandon things on a whim. Things have to be done, and my affairs arranged. Not to mention my marriage. So in the meantime, I will continue to meet you for our dates, and as soon as can be arranged, I will be yours. It is a race now, between getting the arrangements settled and my… I mean… our baby arriving. But please, be patient with me. You have waited all this time, surely you can be strong enough to wait a little longer?”
I was somewhat shocked that his facial features showed some chagrin. The General was used to being the man in charge, and a petite white girl had just put him in his place, more or less.
“Gunny, may we go now? Please?”
It wasn’t 15 seconds before I was being wheeled away, with Olga seated next to me, looking me over.
“I didn’t hear all of it. What gives? Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine… But I think I fucked my life up, however.”
“Ummm... okay. So, since part of my mission is your total care, I would ask you a simple question. If you don’t answer it, I’ll leave it be. But judging from Gunny’s general state of unhappiness, let me ask. What the actual fuck is going on here?”
I twisted my lips for a moment, knowing that Gunny was in the seat in front of me, and his driver would also be listening. It was probably a good thing Garcia wasn’t, or he might have reacted badly.
“Well… Things were going fine, and I was having a video call with my husband when the General more or less barged in and made me have sex with him. Right there. In front of my husband. He made me have more orgasms in that one session than I have had in a month, and in the end, I agreed to marry the man.”
“I’m so sorry, I don’t believe I heard you correctly, Suzi. Do you want to marry him? As in husband and wife?”
I looked outside as we drove and I blushed.
“Yeah.”
Her jaw flapped up and down a few times, and then she just sat back and stayed silent. She was even more flummoxed than I was, and I was the one agreeing to get married!
When I got back to the embassy, I tried to get back in touch with my husband, but there was nothing to do. I wasn’t sure where he had disconnected the call, and I had a slim hope he hadn’t heard the last part. But my hopes were dimming.
Over the next few days, I had some visitors, the Ambassador himself for one. He was a bit upset. I had somehow thrown a monkey into some other grand plan of his. I also had visits from the Legal Attache` and Olga, the doctor, the Gunny, the Lieutenant, and Garcia. Oh, and Mr. Wilson was there for all of them. I was also finally realizing Mr. Wilson wasn’t some sort of aide, he was a CIA spy of some sort. Just what sort of crap had Oba’s cock gotten me into? I was told, however, that it would be some weeks before things would be able to move forward enough to the point I could live with my new fiancé. Oba and I did continue to have our dates, however. The one thing that nobody budged on was that my baby was being born in the medical unit. Even if they had to drag me kicking and screaming. I didn’t have a problem with that. If something went wrong, I wanted the best care available for myself and my baby.
The very next one was allowed to be an overnight stay, and I packed for the occasion, though it turned out I didn’t need to. I spent most of it naked. Either with Oba’s cock buried in me, and making me scream in wild orgasmic release, or I was being attended to by various people who were fitting me with gowns, tribal clothing, and even a headdress. It was that night that I slept with Oba, and we had more passionate sex, which was turning from sex to love. He only used the ring on my collar sporadically, now, as opposed to that first night when he loved using it to control me. He came in me, and as I lay back, he rolled over onto his side and he hefted his cock, and aimed the thick head at my hand. Using his free hand, he grasped my left one and then massaged a few solid dribbles of his genetic material from his massive black cock, and onto my ring. I looked up to him, confused.
“This is a symbol, Suzi. Your ring is a symbol of your marriage and the love between you and your husband. It is now adorned with my more powerful presence, and I am inserting myself into your life, much as I have inserted my body into yours, and created a new life. A black life you will love and care for to the end of your days. I know your lawyers do not recognize this, but to me, this seals our marriage. I claim you now as my wife.”
He reached over to the nightstand and then held out his hand and slipped his ring onto my third left finger. Oddly, he left my wedding and engagement rings from Steve on, too.
“I cannot make you stop loving the man you first married, so I will not try to. But my ring claims you equally as my bride and the mother of my children.”
I lay there, pondering all of this, as my heart and mind were all jumbled up. I loved Steve, completely and wholeheartedly. But I loved what Oba did to me as well. The way he had sex with me. The way we made love. The way he simply consumed me. It was far more passionate and pleasurable than my husband could do. So, I was emotionally in love with Steve, and physically in love with Oba.
“I promise to wear this, Oba, as a sign of our mutual bond and love.”
It was all I could muster at that moment, but it was enough. Oba kissed me passionately, and then he rolled over and was snoring in moments. I lay there in the darkness, using my fingers over the new ring, and just trying to figure out what was going to become of my life. I finally drifted off to sleep, but between the baby’s kicking and my emotional state, I didn’t sleep well. So, I wasn’t completely surprised when I awoke to an empty bed. For all his faults, laziness wasn’t one of Oba’s. He was an early riser.
I lay there for about 30 min, just snoozing and relaxing when there was a soft knock.
“Come in?”
There were two ladies, all bright and cheery and wearing white coming in with arm-loads of baskets and things.
“Oh, good, you are awake! Today is your day!”
“Day for what?”
“Why to get married, of course! Weren’t you told? You must hurry, you only have two hours to get ready!”
What protests I uttered were brushed aside as they got to work, almost throwing me in the shower, one of these ladies stripping and getting in with me to soap me up and clean me down. I had to admit she was dedicated, and I was shaved nearly everywhere I should have been, and she even went so far as to clean up and trim my landing strip. My hair was then dried for me as I ate a breakfast of fresh fruits, cheeses, and bread, and then my toes and fingernails were redone in my preferred blood-red. I was given a set of snow-white Laboutains, marveling at the fit, as well as the expense. A silky satin white caftan was then placed over my head and the ladies gently cascaded it down my body, ensuring it was fit to minimize my swollen belly, and yet try and emphasize my swollen breasts. I had gained a half-cup, or maybe more, now. I wore no lingerie, panties, or bra. It was a caftan, heels and me! The front of the caftan was hemmed shorter, to just above my knees, and the back left far longer and into a train. Oddly, the side where my arms would emerge was very long, so much so that I could not see my fingertips unless I lifted them above my head and made the fabric slide toward gravity. It made me unable to grasp anything. I stood in front of the mirror and for a woman pushing 30 weeks along, I had to admit I looked pretty good, considering the circumstances. Then there was a knock at the door.
“Come in!”
I looked over and nearly shit myself. It was Akanni!
“Hello, Dear, you look radiant!”
“Akanni! What the hell are you doing here? I mean, how? What’s going on... Why?”
Holding her hand up, and smiling, she silenced me. Then she spoke with that elegant, royal confidence I so admired her for.
“Easy Dear. It has taken some doing and political efforts to get me into this room. But I do have to speak with you privately?”
She had looked at my two new assistants, and I made no hesitation or even politeness. I wanted information, and I wanted it now.
“You two… Out!”
They left without a moment’s hesitation, gently closing the door behind them.
“First, Suzi, tell me. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay, I guess, though I am more confused than anything.”
Akanni smiled.
“Suzi, you are far from confused. I have been told by several different sources that you are betrothed to your fiancé, and he is anxiously awaiting you at the other end of the compound. It has been set up quite nicely, and there are over 200 guests about, some of whom you know, though I daresay your husband is not one of them.”
My eyes softened.
“Please, tell me of him? How is Steve doing? I haven’t been able to talk with him in almost 3 weeks.”
Akanni took a deep breath and she looked sad.
“He took it pretty hard. Harder than I think any of us expected. Fortunately, that night, he came to us, and Akoni took it upon himself to ensure Steve behaved. I heard them drinking until late in the night, and then the next day, they spent it together. Steve has been pretty angry, and he has the right to be. My Dear, what were you thinking?”
I sighed and shrugged, to ample white satin flapping about me.
“Honestly, I dunno. I mean, at the time I was asked, I said no, even though I was near the most potent orgasm of my life. That night was the first sex I had experienced in many weeks, and with my hormones raging, I have been looking at every swinging dick, hoping to get it in me. I mean, I have never been so horny, ever! So, I said no, and then he kept on me, and me, and he finally broke me and I said yes. I couldn’t help it.”
Akanni quirked a brow.
“Do you want to marry this man?”
“No. Well, maybe. I mean... yes. If it means I can keep having his cock do to me what it has been, yes. I can’t help it. I love my husband. With all my heart. But I love Oba’s lovemaking in a way that just destroys me. He can consume me, and in that, he can claim me, and I can’t say no. Does that make any sense? I mean, ever since that night at the resort, I have never stopped thinking about his cock and wanting it more and more. The less I have it, the more I want it!”
Akanni stood there for a long second, and she then spoke.
“Suzi, Dear, thank you for being open and trusting me like this. Please believe me that I only have your best interests at heart. I want you and Steve to be happy. Akoni has gone to great lengths to get Steve back in control of himself.”
She then reached out and held my hand through the satin, her pure black skin the perfect contrast to the pure white of my dress.
“This means Steve has also been with a woman. Ever since a few days later, she has not left his side, and they are in bed often. You should know that.”
I held up my hand, looking more like a ghost, I thought. It was almost comical, and I would have laughed, had the discussion not been so serious.
“Akanni, I can’t blame him. I know he has been dutiful and amazing. As I had been, until our last video chat. The men that I had been with had ***** me, and it was only Oba who had not. Please, Steve is a man, and a man has needs. I can forgive him for that. I just hope he can forgive me, and we can somehow save our marriage.”
“One thing at a time, Dear.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Now, I fear it is time for you to be wed to your new husband.”
With that, we hugged, and she said she would see me at the wedding. My two minions came in and they fussed and fawned over me until I was sent for. I took a deep breath as I left the room. It was time.
The walk across the compound took a while, yet it was shorter than the walk down the aisle. The dozen steps or so seemed to take an eternity. I managed to make eye contact with Akanni and even saw Olga and Mr. Wilson there. If my security detail were present, they were well hidden. I was then standing in front of two officiants, a Tribal-Officiant and a Christian Pastor, both of whom were very dark-skinned. Next to me was my soon-to-be husband, wearing the tribal and ceremonial garb of wherever he hailed from.
Other than saying a brief “Hi.” to him, my brain was just too fogged over to remember much, until it came to the I do’s and the end.
“Oba Jaiyesimi Abayomrunkoje Oladele Adébáyọ̀ and Suzi Adébáyọ̀ are now held as man and wife! Oba, you may now kiss your bride!”
I heard the roar of approval and almost thunderous applause as Oba didn’t hesitate and swept me up in his arms, dipping me backward, until I had to kick out one leg to hold my balance, all the while his tongue had invaded my lips, and I gave in to that magnificent kiss, my eyes fluttering closed, and my voice softly purring as my arm fell lax, the flowers in my fingers held tightly in what would become a magnificently romantic series of photos. Even the one angle some enterprising photographer managed to record as Oba’s hand was on my pussy, his finger sliding inside me, teasing my sweetness. I had been so horny through this all that I nearly orgasmed from it all! If Oba had thrown me down and mounted me, I wouldn’t have minded one bit.
The reception was very nice, though I spent most of the time looking at my new wedding ring, the engagement ring Oba had replaced when I said ‘I do’. It laid with a surround to encompass my wedding ring from Steve. If I was honest, all three rings together look gorgeous. Later that night, my black husband led me off to consummate our marriage, which he did with great vigor. He used my collar against me and leashed me to the bed, while he was vigorously having his way with me, the restraint making my passions rise. In the future, I found I would miss that collar.
Oba roughly fucked me twice, giving me at least four orgasms, and then made love to me twice more, until I was just spent. How that man had so much vigor was stupefying. He put Juwon to shame and that kid had me six times one day! But it was with some cuddling and soft kissing that I fell asleep in his arms, the happiest I had been in months.
My restful sleep was blasted awake with the sharp and loud sounds of gunfire and an explosion! People were screaming and yelling, and Oba was already on his feet, naked, with a handgun in his hand. He looked out a window and made a sharp decision.
“Suzi! You must go!”
“Oba! No! I am your wife!”
As we argued, two soldiers came in, and Oba threw my wedding caftan at me.
“Get her out of here! To the North! Get her to safety by any means!”
I was almost dragged out, waddling in my heels, and trying to pull my caftan on as we moved, as the two soldiers roughly led me away from my new husband. I could hear bullets, an explosion, and then a lot of yelling. I was screaming for Oba to come with me!
“Oba! OBA!” he once I was around the corner, he was lost to me.
I was nearly dragged on, through hallways I had only seen before, and around corners until I was hopelessly lost. I rounded a corner and was running, when I heard a voice.
“Suzi! Over here!”
I looked towards the voice, and it was Garcia! I had never been so happy to see anyone in all my life! It would take me some time to realize that for the first time, he called me Suzi instead of Mrs. Recreant.
I managed to jerk away from my escort and ran to him crying, and then he pushed me behind him and I was soon in the arms of two more Marines. We ran as fast as I was able to manage, with Garcia and a few more Marines I hadn’t met before unleashing volleys of fire at some, or something.
I was near hysterics, now, screaming for Oba!
“Where’s my husband? Garcia, go get him! I love him!”
Garcia pretty much ignored me, and as we were moving, Oba was getting farther and farther from me, I was certain. In the end, I was nearly useless, crying and weak, an emotional wreck from what had been the happiest day I had ever had in Nigeria. With everything that had happened to me, I had finally had a night of peace. Only for it to be destroyed.
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Author's Other Note... I am not going to leave the reader hanging. There will be an Epilogue. Please be patient.
To my loyal readers- THANK YOU for sticking this one out. It has been over a year since this whole saga started. What started as a story with some elements of truth, like chapters 1, 2, & 3, sort of grew a life of its own.
I have received much support and helpful criticism along with some commentary that was probably best left unsaid. But that comes with the territory when an Author puts him or herself out there.
The Author hopes you find enjoyment in this work. If you are new to the series, this chapter won't make any sense unless you have gone back several chapters, perhaps even the beginning. I urge you to do so. They are worth your time. That said, it is time to read on...
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It took almost two weeks before everything was settled to everyone’s satisfaction. Well, everyone’s but mine. I was so horny I couldn’t even walk without getting thoughts about a big black cock inside me. Preferably the one attached to this rather imposing black man who had the face only a mother could love, a body only an offensive lineman would love, and a cock I could not stop wanting to love. I was growing cock-crazed, especially after the day’s long gang-****** I had endured. Yes, it was terrifying, in the moment, but in the end, I was dreaming about black cocks, black men, and black cum. In the day I was fantasizing about it. I had realized that my trip to Nigeria would forever change me, and not in a way that would be good for my marriage. But not all was bad, so to speak.
I had finally found a way to check with Steve often, on top of my daily video chats. I had managed to befriend the embassy communications officer, and just send text messages, to let him know I was thinking of him. It was a small thing, but I still wanted him to know I loved him. Deep down, in my heart of hearts, I loved him beyond measure. But physically, I just wasn’t that into him. I loved him, but I didn’t want him. So many black men had been screwing me that I was becoming addicted to them. I was addicted to the raw fucking, and the orgasms. I was forever attached to the way they didn’t try and be soft, gentle, or careful. They weren’t after my heart, they were taking my body, and I relished it. I was so addicted to it that had I to do it over again, I might have just surrendered to it all. I was beginning to think that I could never enjoy my husband in bed again. Not if he was going to treat me like fine crystal. Not if he was going to treat me like he could break me. I now knew he couldn’t. Dozens of men had tried, and the only result I had was endless orgasms. It was obvious to me that I needed therapy, especially if I was going to be able to resurrect my marriage. But above all, I needed to see the General. At least one last time.
But with an embassy-issued tablet and charger, I was allowed to visit the General. It would be quite the affair. I would be allowed to ride in one of the embassy SUVs, accompanied by my own personal Marine Security Platoon, as well as the General’s security team. To be even safer, the General had to meet me at the embassy and ride in the SUV, while our procession was driven to the General’s compound. I also had to answer my tablet when a video call came in. It would be the Marine personnel checking on me. I also could video chat with my husband about it, should he call. Once inside the compound, the Marines would wait for me, and I would then return with them at the end of the night.
It was kind of comical as if I was being chaperoned on a date when I was a teen girl, only these chaperones had orders to keep me safe, and all sorts of equipment to do just that. Even Garcia came along, holding his trusty machine gun. Olga came along as well, armed and equipped to shoot whomever she needed to, and then patch them up. The world was so complicated now. All for a white wife to visit the black man who fathered his black child in her. I had even asked if he could just have dinner with me inside the embassy, but for reasons unknown, I was told it was not possible. My communications friend finally leaked that the General had begun to fall into disfavor with the US Government because he had failed to deliver on his promises and that only my repeated requests to see the father of my child had allowed this all to happen. Had the General not fathered a child in me, there was no way I would have been permitted to go. But then, if he hadn’t, I would be back home, with ****** and friends.
Which made me think of Juwon. I missed him. I had gotten a few emails from him, including pictures. He was safely at college, and learning about college life, though oddly, no girl was hanging around him yet. He mentioned that Freshmen usually didn’t get many groupies, and he had yet to prove himself. He had, however, impressed his football coaches, and was hoping to make it into the starting lineup at some point. His pictures were of his dorm room, his roommate, a hunky black athlete himself, and the campus, but his last e-mail had a picture of his erect cock. A cock I had grown to become attached to as well. The cock that had fucked me many times, including one special moment in front of my husband. Between Juwon, his cock pics, my fantasies of the General’s cock, and my hormones raging, I was becoming crazy with need. I even considered the potential when I got back to the United States of visiting Juwon, fucking him unconscious, and then letting his roommate have me as well. Or maybe they both could have me at the same time? Lord, I needed to get laid.
When it finally came to my ‘date’, I wore a simple, colorful caftan and heels. It was just too blazing hot out for anything more, and I only added panties. My breasts were fuller and had gained a cup, to where I was a solid D-cup. The only problem was I hadn’t the foresight to bring any larger bras, so most of the time I went bra-less. I had even tried one of Olga’s, at her insistence, and her’s wasn’t even close. She was still bigger. So, it was braless until I could get one from the States. It was how I found out that online companies do not ship to a good part of the African continent, if at all. Oh, and I still had that blasted collar around my neck. I had grown used to it, actually, but my greatest fear was that it would rust from my showering and stain my skin or something. There was still no solution to remove it locally.
I was surprised to see the front seat occupied by Mr. Wilson, my embassy liaison. Evidently, for this first trial run, I would be chaperoned! Damn!
“Ah, good evening, Suzi, I have longed to see you again.”
I heard that familiar voice from what seemed like ages ago. Looking aside, it was the General, as he hefted his considerable bulk into the SUV and sat next to me. Other than being in his uniform and regalia, he looked like it was a normal Spring Day. The heat wasn’t bothering him, while Mr. Wilson and I had the air conditioning on ice-cold.
“Honestly, I have wanted to see you again, face to face. We are long overdue to talk, General.”
It was difficult to keep my tone even as I was at once wanting to hop on him and have him fuck me stupid right then and there, while at the same time wanting to strangle him for getting me pregnant in the first place.
Right then, Mr. Wilson piped in.
“Mrs. Recreant, and General, please realize that this is a trial run. If things go smoothly, we can look forward to more of these… meetings. But if something goes wrong, this will be the only time you two will be allowed to see each other, no matter what. So please be civil, and make the most of our time.”
I found it interesting that the evening wasn’t called a date, but a meeting. Perhaps that was the justification for the outing? I looked at Mr. Wilson and was about to speak when he cut me off.
“Yes, Mrs. Recreant, you are not to be left alone. Not for this first visit. You see, I get orders, too. I am sure to keep the peace between our two countries, and you two are part of that. So, we shall dine together, and I’ll mostly stay quiet and let the two of you talk.”
I changed my mind and just sighed, and began to look out the window, but it was the General who first spoke.
“Suzi, I was saddened to hear of your misfortunes when you first arrived in my country. I would like to reassure you that such an occurrence shall not repeat itself. My troops have been actively eliminating any future risks to you.”
“I guess I should say thank you. But I want to make sure you know how much danger my child, I mean, OUR child, was in?”
“Oh, yes, Suzi. I am well aware of it. It was your Mr. Smith who helped us with some of the information we needed to put an end to it.”
I looked from the General to Mr. Wilson, with a raised eyebrow. ‘Who in the Hell was Mr. Smith?’ my gaze was asking.
“That would be John.”
My curiosity assuaged; I looked back to the General.
“Something your whole country needs to work on.”
Okay, so I was icy in tone. I was still pissed. Had it not been for that, I likely could have been the General’s Mistress this entire time, which I was wanting at this moment.
“Suzi, do you have any questions for me?”
To his credit, the General was working to be civil, a change from the way he was in the United States. There, he had been domineering, even abrasive, not to mention abusive. Of me, at least.
“Yeah, actually, I do. What can I call you? I am struggling with your last name. You have no idea how badly I have mangled your name to so many people.”
That made him chuckle.
“For our purposes, please just call me Oba. It is one of my first names, of which I have a few. I would have shared this with you at our last meeting if you had not so suddenly departed from my bed.”
He gave Mr. Wilson a very smarmy look. To his credit, Wilson didn’t even flinch. I realized I would never want to play poker against him.
“Oba, and thank you for sharing your first name with me, I had to depart as I was nearly naked, in a very high-class resort, it was daylight and I was with my boyfriend. It would have been a social disaster to be seen naked with you, or even with the cape I was wearing. I had a hard enough time getting a new room key as it was.”
Oba snorted.
“Come now, Mrs. Recreant…” He emphasized the ‘Mrs.’ “I know you are a married woman and I know you aren’t the sixteen-year-old girl you were presented as. At the time, you managed to pull it off, but the moment I learned you were pregnant, I was told differently. Which is why I had lawyers sue you to keep my child. You see, I do not have an heir, and my ‘wife’, if you can call her that, cannot bear one.”
My eyebrows raised as I heard all of this and managed to see Wilson taking some notes.
“I’m sorry, Oba, I didn’t know that. So, your alternative was to grab me and force me to get pregnant?”
He chuckled, shaking his head.
“Oh, no, dear Suzi. You were just a target of opportunity. A political pawn, of sorts. When I caught you and your young man on the balcony, I knew you were going to be easy. It also made me doubt you two were in a relationship. A man should respect his girl, and he disrespected you greatly. I never would have done that with you, which is why I had you come to my room. And yes, while you may say I ***** you, not once did you scream for help, or grab for the phone. When Mr. Chukwu informed me of your experience on the beach, I knew you were for the taking. So, I took my turn, once I found you.”
“Excuse me? You had been looking for me?”
“Oh yes. I had Mr. Chukwu take you to get you alone and to make you vulnerable so I could have you with little risk of your making a scene or being too resistive. I had him make you need to be saved, in a way. Of course, getting your young man away from you was the easy part.”
I had to stare at him for a few moments, gathering my thoughts as I went through all the permutations. Was it true? Had I just been some white girl of opportunity? Had I overplayed my hand with Juwon at the resort? Did I play my part too well? What I thought had been clear and concise was getting much cloudier.
“Okay, so let’s set the record straight. First of all, Juwon and I were an item. We were lovers and hiding it from both our families. When we were at the resort, we had even started thinking of how to become more public. Juwon and I even made love in front of my husband before I left to come here.”
It was my turn to watch The General consider this before I went on.
“I went to this awards thing purely to help Juwon. I was told it would be a big career move for him, in your politics. I went along to help him, not become the mother of your child. So, get that right out of your head….”
But even as I was thinking of it, my eyes dipped to glance at the man’s trousers. I was so close, yet so far from the beast that had tamed me. The cock that had bred me. The cock that had claimed me.
It became his turn to think for a moment, all the while Mr. Wilson was taking note after note.
“Perhaps, Suzi, perhaps. But this is how things turned out. Your young Juwon now has his future set. He has powerful allies, including me. His ****** is also better off, politically. Her Highness, Princess Akanni, now has more power in her title as well. Never underestimate her, Suzi, she has more skill than you know. While she likes you, it was her plan all along to use you as a tool to help her young man, nothing more. Which reminds me. When we last were in my bed, I spoke to you of never getting my cock out of your mind. Can I presume this still is true? Do not deny it. I have seen your eyes.”
It was my turn to take a breath and look out the window. I was at once humiliated, angry, and turned on by this conversation, with my humiliation made all the worse with Wilson listening in.
“Look… Genre. Oba… We need to come to some sort of accommodation here. I am here because you pulled some bullshit strings to get me here, not because you wanted my child to bear Nigerian citizenship. I talked to an attorney before I left. Since you admitted paternity, our child will automatically be given dual citizenship. I didn’t need to come here, and I am sure you knew that. You want me here for something else. I’ll bet that while your cock has a claim on me, my pu-... my vagina has a hold on you, too.”
Before Oba could say anything, I looked to Wilson and addressed him very directly.
“Listen and listen good, Mister. You are hearing things that are best left between the two of us. You even breathe a word of this outside of this vehicle, and I am going to tell Garcia you tried to molest me, at the General’s urging. I am going to make that young Marine hate you so badly that even his stare will kill your soul. Then I am going to tell John that you outed him. I will then tell the Ambassador that you were sucking Oba’s cock because you are a flaming faggot in disguise. I’ll make you one compromised sonofabitch if you even think about considering releasing what you have heard. Are we clear?”
Good ol’ Mr. Wilson was taken aback at my verbal threats, and he had to take a moment himself, while Oba looked on in wry amusement. There was this weird power triangle going on, and innocent young Suzi was suddenly showing fangs that nobody knew about. But then, I didn’t, either. It just sorta’ came out of me. After taking a deep breath, Wilson held up his notepad.
“Mrs. Recreant, I don’t care about your personal life and how you wound up here. But your General has to hold up his end of the agreements our government has made with him, and very soon, he will find out exactly what the US government is capable of doing.”
Okay, so for now, I was assured and more comfortable, but I did look at Oba. He held up a single hand.
“Have no fears, woman. I am not about to leak any of our conversations. Remember, I am a part of this, too, and you hold my ****** line in your womb. I was serious about wanting to protect you because it is in my self-interest.”
Okay, so the playing field was now more or less level, and I was now a player in this, rather than just a pawn.
“And yes, Dear Suzi, I do not mind admitting that I do find you a special lover. I would have you in my bed as often as I can manage while you are here. Were it possible, I would put another child in you before you departed?”
I looked at him with a shocked look. A second child by him had never even entered my mind! But the sex with him was so amazing, I didn’t know if I could resist him. I mean, I know if he got his hands on me, I could not deny him, he simply was too big and too strong, plus his cock had the power to make me wilt right in front of him, and probably my husband, too. I finally admitted to myself that I would not deny him, either. But I hadn’t even considered the fact he wanted more children. Was that even a possibility? How long would I be in Nigeria, after all?
My musings were interrupted by our arrival at the place where our ‘dinner meeting’ was arranged. It was a nicer building, modern and incredibly secure. Nigerian soldiers were all around, and my Marine detachment also took up their place. I noticed the military folks said little as if it were all pre-arranged. Once inside, we were in a nicely appointed room, with all the fittings of a higher-class place in the US. But the table was only set for three, and I was seated in the middle. It was then I discovered that I was about to be ignored, for the most part.
The men got down to business, and now Wilson was taking prolific notes, while I sat there and ate, while trying to follow the conversation. My only real involvement was to feel Oba’s hand on my thigh, much like before. I had to hand it to him. He could certainly multi-task, talking to Wilson about things I had no clue of understanding, as his hand managed to slide under my caftan and begin feeling my bare skin to where I felt his fingertips brush along the top of my landing strip. It was making me wet with need, and I had some hope Oba and I would be able to steal a few minutes away, where he could just grab me and shove his cock in me so I could scream in relief. I wanted his cock inside me so badly, it was hurting!
But too soon, Wilson called dinner to an end, and while Oba stayed behind, I was escorted out with a smiling Wilson. On the way back, all Wilson said was that I had performed magnificently and that there would be more dinner meetings soon enough. He was all smiles and nearly bubbling.
“I want to have time with him alone, Wilson.”
“In time, Suzi, in time.”
My hands went to my growing belly, now fast approaching six months along.
“Mr. Wilson, I am fighting a biological clock here. In time needs to be damn soon.”
He glanced over at me and frowned thoughtfully.
“I’ll see what I can arrange. But keep in mind, his access to you all depends on his cooperation. He finally made a good start tonight.”
“I’ll keep him talking, then.”
----------------------------
It took two more of these “dates” before everyone felt comfortable enough for me to go alone with Oba. By this time, I was so horny that my vagina had grown fangs! So, tonight’s date was at Oba’s private residence, a rather ornate and palatial estate about 30 minutes from the embassy. I still had my US Marine friends, and now Olga went seemingly everywhere. I was even allowed out on small, one-hour trips, but I was never without a member of my protective detail. Not even to go pee. But it was something. Oba also had a contingent of his troops about, and between the two, I felt very safe.
I did have my tablet with me so that I could make a short video call with my husband. It was previously scheduled, and I insisted on having a few minutes of privacy to talk with him, to keep my marriage intact. Steve had more or less grown accustomed to my current status, but for reasons unknown, he was still stuck stateside. So, I made it a point to keep those meetings. When I arrived, Oba greeted me, but not in his uniform, but in some soft covering that looked like a tent, in a way, but he was able to move about easily, and his arms were free. He greeted me at my SUV and hugged me warmly, which I returned with a soft squeak. He, of course, enveloped me, while I was more or less getting my hands on the front half of him. I had taken to wearing caftans pretty much full-time, now, due to the heat, the comfort, and my growing belly. By all reports, Oba’s black child was healthy and growing normally inside me. But I was now past the halfway point, and I hoped to be back home before Spring.
“Ahh, Suzi, my beauty. How is the mother of my house doing?”
“I’m good, Oba. Just normal pregnancy stuff. Although we should talk more privately inside. I trust being able to have a short chat with my husband will still be okay?”
“Of course, Suzi, all is as I have agreed to. Your Mr. Wilson drives a hard bargain.”
As we conversed idly, we entered his home, and I made a beeline to go pee. My bladder was starting to hold less and less, which was made even worse by the amount of water and juices I was being made to drink to stay hydrated. Because I was so cooped up at the embassy, I was having difficulty adjusting to the Nigerian heat.
I was finished and cleaned up, and as I reached for the door, an idea hit me. Just to communicate some... expectations. I reached under my silky caftan and drew down my panties. When I reached Oba, I simply dangled them from my index finger and offered them. He looked down into my eyes as I looked up into his, my soul bared. No words were exchanged as he took my panties. He got the message. Not that he would need to have my panties off, but it helped speed things up.
We had a light meal and chatted about mindless things until it came to the future of my child.
“Suzi, what are your plans after you deliver my child?”
“Well, since I will have given you a baby, I will have fulfilled everything you demanded. Legally, I can go home, and frankly, the embassy and the Marines would rather see me go home. I think they are tired of the shenanigans I have put them through.”
He frowned thoughtfully for a moment, looking into my eyes, as I looked over the rim of my water glass into him.
“I want you to stay, Suzi.”
“Say what?”
“I want you to stay, Suzi. I have found a great desire for you, and how you are sexually. No woman I have been with since our magic night has come even close to you. I think of you often. So much so that I would have you be my bride.”
My jaw must’ve stuck open, as water dribbled onto the table before I could recover. I hastily set it down and used my napkin to dab at the mess. I needed a way to respond, to not get his hopes up. I am married, and as soon as could be arranged, I am getting my ass home, preferably First Class on a Boeing 777. But for now, I still badly wanted his cock. I cleared my throat as I spoke carefully.
“Oba… I am flattered. But you know I am already married in America. We don’t allow a man to have two wives, and I am sure that a woman cannot have two husbands. Frankly, I would rather not let the one I have got away. He’s a great man.”
“I am sure he is Suzi; I would not insult his honor that way. But I would still have you be the mother of my children. I have seen you respond under great trials, and you hold an inner strength that tells me my children will be raised properly. Physically, you are small, but your heart is great. So, I want you to remain as my wife.”
“Oba, I just can’t. Even if I wanted to, there were too many complications back in my home. I have a husband, I have friends, I have a life waiting for me to return.”
As soon as I finished speaking, one of his minions approached him and whispered in his ear.
“Ah, Suzi. I am told it is time for you to have your chat with your husband. Perhaps help me by speaking with him about this? Who knows, he may be more interested than you know?”
I rose, collected my tablet, and shook my head.
“Oba, believe me, I will tell him. But be prepared. If he says yes, then I will likely need a doctor, as I will have had a heart attack.”
Shaking my head, I simply made my way to a proffered room, my heels clicking loudly on the polished tile floor. I was still wearing heels because I had not been allowed to go buy regular shoes or flip-flops for so long that my legs had grown tighter, or something, and so heels were my most comfortable footwear. At least that was what the doctor said. I could get physical therapy when I got home, I was told. On the plus side, the government was buying me new heels about every other week, at my request. My tax-payer dollars were at work! The inside of the room was a bedroom rather nice, very clean and there was ample lighting and a table and chair for me. There was a queen-size bed there as well. I set up my tablet and was able to grab a good internet signal and video-called my husband.
“Hey, my Love! How’s my man?”
I was so very cheerful and happy to see him. He looked pretty good, actually, but it looked like he was still at work in his office.
“Hey, babe, how’s my main squeeze?”
Ahh, it was so good to hear that familiar teasing. My being his main girl, as if there were others. Though, frankly, if he had been having sex for sexual purposes while I was gone, I could not hold it against him. Not after everything that had happened to me. So, if he was getting rid of a load of steam, fine. Just so long as I was not going to get cast aside in all this. If that was going to be the case, then I might very well reconsider Oba’s desires.
“I’m good. I’m just finishing dinner. Oba had me over.”
“Ah. So where are you? Is that his bedroom?”
I looked behind me. My husband was, justifiably, suspicious. After all, I was in some man’s home, in some bedroom.
“Actually… I don’t know, but I doubt it is his. I think this is a guest room. This isn’t keeping in his style.”
As I looked back at Steve, I heard the door quietly close.
“Who’s that?”
“Uhh, Honey, this is Oba. The General as I used to call him before I got to learn his first name. Well, one of them.”
I was looking back at Oba as he approached. I could see the front of his caftan beginning to show his arousal.
“Oba, what are you doing?”
“I came to show you how serious I am of my offer.”
“What offer?” Steve’s voice was tinny over the tablet’s speaker.
Oba leaned down over me from behind, and I was in too much shock to realize what he was doing. As he began to speak, his hands had collected the hem of my caftan and he roughly lifted it, ******** me to him, and my husband! Once I was nude, his free hand first drove to my breast, and he took a handful of my pale, swollen flesh in his palm and he began to squeeze it, my nipple hardening from his calloused palm.
“What the fuck?”
My husband and I both uttered loudly, though he was more of a demanding question, mine was more of an exclamation.
Oba’s free arm wrapped under my belly, and he hefted me up, from the chair, my now nude white body in his thick dark black arms. I started to try and get free of him, knowing what was now coming.
“Oba! No! Not like this!”
“Suzi, you will show your husband the same as me, your answer…”
I was not that surprised that as I could hear my husband yelling at Oba to stop, and I was crying for him to stop, he did no such thing. His hand released my breast, and he used his free hand to now aim his long and thick black cock at my slit, until he had my slickness coating his cock head, the heavy mushroom escaping the confines of his equally large foreskin. For the first time, I got a good look at him, and despite his 300 pounds of flab, his cock had to be pushing fifteen inches! It made sense, though, how a man of his bulk could stick his black warrior into any woman he wanted and still turn her into a black cock-crazed and lusting slut.
I was holding onto his arm, trying to somehow pry it off me, while my legs flailed, my head turning to and fro as he again began to take me. Was I being *****? At that moment, yes. If he had waited another ten minutes, I would have been willingly in his bed. Or on his patio, or in his driveway. Wherever he wanted to fuck me. But now, he was aiming his cock, using it to slide my petals apart, until I was opened. I could see with a fast glance that my husband was watching intently, as my attention was then stolen away from the screen and upwards as that black spear finally engaged in my opening and he began to lower my pregnant body onto his. Or rather, make my small body get impaled by his prodigious spear.
My back arched and my legs stiffened while I cried out lustfully as he began to thrust his hips, driving me lower, forcing my pussy to open for him. It was slow going, an inch or two each time, until Oba was comfortable enough to release his shaft and use both hands to hold me tight, one around my waist, and the other on that damn collar I still had to wear. Then he simply began to push me down by my torso, while I cried out passionately with every thrust. It was when my voice changed pitch from ‘holy shit this feels great’ to ‘Oh, fuck STOP’ that he ceased trying to impale me. I was held up by his arm, my collar, and his cock, while my heels were still a few inches off the ground. Just as at the resort, I was now his sexual captive. Holding steady, while he allowed my body to adjust to him, he looked at the screen and my husband.
“Have you watched your wife having sex, Mr. Recreant?”
Steve, to his credit, didn’t say anything, though I am sure he was thinking of that precious night when Juwon had sex with me in my husband’s view, and with his blessing. His face was stoic and stony.
“I am sure you know how much she has enjoyed me in the past, as I have enjoyed her. I know she still lusts for me. She has told you, no?”
“Steve! Don’t listen to him!”
“It explains why she isn’t wearing underwear.”
Steve’s voice was flat.
It was then I felt my body begin to be hefted up and then allowed to sink by gravity. Each ascension was six to eight inches, maybe, and the slide back down was slow and inexorable. This position was, for me, the equivalent of doggy, or standing, and the soft sensitive underside of that magnificent black cock was massaging my own sweetest sensitive spot, and I was beginning to see sounds and hear colors before long. I started moaning loudly.
“Mr. Recreant, did she tell you yet that I asked her a question?”
“No.” came the flat response.
Then came several more thrusts, and my voice was growing louder. My hands had released his arms, and my hands were now beginning to claw at the air. The sexual pleasure was massive. I was so horny, so needy, and so wanting that, for a change, I could feel an orgasm building rapidly inside me. I would not last long, and to ensure that, Oba began to increase the speed of his hefty bulk lifting and dropping me from and then back onto his black babymaker. My legs were now flopping up and down in unison as my body reacted to being fucked his way.
“Suzi, I want you to be my wife.”
“WHAT?”
I heard my husband shout into the camera.
I was being fucked even more rapidly, now, as my husband could only yell repeatedly into the camera, as he watched my debasement. Oba was fucking me faster and faster, as my body rose to ever higher sexual pleasure.
“Please… no!”
I managed to cry out.
“Steeeeeve!”
That was my last word before I was shattered by an orgasm, which had me shaking so hard that I almost slipped from Oba’s grasp. Only his finger in the ring of my collar held my torso fast to his. The sheen of sweat on my body made my body slippery in his grasp. Perhaps the only thing to keep me from falling onto the floor was that incredible black shaft. I remember my voice crying out, my wail of sexual pleasure and release echoing off the walls, and my eyes went hazy for a few moments, as Oba continued to fuck me in front of my husband.
“Suzi… You will marry me?”
His deep voice was almost issuing me a command, and it was getting harder to say anything, but my resolve remained.
Oba continued to thrust into me, harder and faster, making my voice wail out as I had a second orgasm in short order, my voice wailing loudly as my body clenched, my pussy bearing down on his magnificent cock. I was now holding onto him the only way I could, which was to reach up and hold him by the neck. Oba was ******** my leaking pussy to my husband as his black cock was making me orgasm, and then he finally bucked sharply and had his climax, and I could almost tell his cock was now pumping his virile seed into me. All on camera, where my husband was forced to watch.
“Suzi… I asked you a question… Will you be my wife?”
I was gasping for air, moaning in a long purr, like a kitten who has gotten too much catnip. Only my addiction was to that amazing black cock buried deeply inside me, spurting hot, fresh blasts of his seed into my vagina and coating my plugged cervix.
“Yes.”
The only thing I remember saying was “Yes.” I don’t know why I said it. It just seemed like it was important to say it. Maybe it was my body overruling my mind, or my body in that ecstasy of post-sexual bliss, or my only way to tell Oba I needed more of his cock. Perhaps it was just a question and my OCD to leave no loose ends on anything. I don’t know. But yeah, I had agreed to marry the man who had ***** me, given me his child, and now had ***** me in front of my husband. Oba now had his power over me, and like at the resort, I could not deny him. At that moment, I was his wife.
Oba was kind enough to allow me to rest, and he set me on the bed on all fours, where I promptly fell flat forward and was getting comfy for a nap. Oba went to the tablet to speak to Steve.
“Hmmm. Odd. It seems Mr. Recreant has disconnected the call.”
That was the last thing I remembered until I awoke from my nap.
It was perhaps thirty minutes later that one of Oba’s servants came to me, gently shaking me to wakefulness, and holding out my caftan. The fact I was lying out, nude, didn’t seem to faze the man as he helped me dress and get back on my feet.
“Miss Suzi, you must hurry, there is a commotion at the gate!”
So, I hurried as best as a now 6-months pregnant woman can, emerging into the courtyard, and a glare of lights. I could hear voices, many of them, and there was Oba and the Gunnery Sergeant. Both men looked rather angry.
“Mrs. Recreant! It is time for you to leave!”
“No, she has now become my wife, and she stays with me!”
I rolled my eyes as they resumed this bickering.
“General, release her at once, or we shall be forced to consider her a kidnap victim and take positive action to recover her! This is your first, last, and only warning!”
I could see that Gunny was using his particular level of diplomacy. It explained why everybody pretty much feared him.
I noticed the Marines starting to steel themselves up for battle. They were unslinging weapons, tightening chinstraps, and gearing up, while I noticed Garcia in the shadows with his favorite machine gun. It dawned on me that, unlike last time, my security detachment wasn’t letting me be held against my will. They had learned from my last escapade.
Meanwhile, Oba’s troops were similarly getting ready, only they didn’t have all of the fancy stuff that the Marines had. They would have put up a fight, but given their training, equipment, and motivation, my money was on being successfully ‘rescued’. Rolling my eyes, I decided I had seen enough and took it upon myself to intervene, before somebody got hurt.
“Hey! Don’t I get a vote in this?”
My soft voice was no match for either man, but they both stopped and looked at me.
“Oba… Relax, Lover.”
I placed my hand on his shoulder and slid my touch down his arm as I moved to stand between both men.
“Gunny… It is true. I have agreed to marry this man.”
I think he showed a facial expression, which was a first. Well, other than his usual ‘I’m gonna rip off your head and shit down your neck!’ sense of congeniality.
I looked back to Oba.
“Please… relax. I am going to return to you. But I can’t just abandon things on a whim. Things have to be done, and my affairs arranged. Not to mention my marriage. So in the meantime, I will continue to meet you for our dates, and as soon as can be arranged, I will be yours. It is a race now, between getting the arrangements settled and my… I mean… our baby arriving. But please, be patient with me. You have waited all this time, surely you can be strong enough to wait a little longer?”
I was somewhat shocked that his facial features showed some chagrin. The General was used to being the man in charge, and a petite white girl had just put him in his place, more or less.
“Gunny, may we go now? Please?”
It wasn’t 15 seconds before I was being wheeled away, with Olga seated next to me, looking me over.
“I didn’t hear all of it. What gives? Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine… But I think I fucked my life up, however.”
“Ummm... okay. So, since part of my mission is your total care, I would ask you a simple question. If you don’t answer it, I’ll leave it be. But judging from Gunny’s general state of unhappiness, let me ask. What the actual fuck is going on here?”
I twisted my lips for a moment, knowing that Gunny was in the seat in front of me, and his driver would also be listening. It was probably a good thing Garcia wasn’t, or he might have reacted badly.
“Well… Things were going fine, and I was having a video call with my husband when the General more or less barged in and made me have sex with him. Right there. In front of my husband. He made me have more orgasms in that one session than I have had in a month, and in the end, I agreed to marry the man.”
“I’m so sorry, I don’t believe I heard you correctly, Suzi. Do you want to marry him? As in husband and wife?”
I looked outside as we drove and I blushed.
“Yeah.”
Her jaw flapped up and down a few times, and then she just sat back and stayed silent. She was even more flummoxed than I was, and I was the one agreeing to get married!
When I got back to the embassy, I tried to get back in touch with my husband, but there was nothing to do. I wasn’t sure where he had disconnected the call, and I had a slim hope he hadn’t heard the last part. But my hopes were dimming.
Over the next few days, I had some visitors, the Ambassador himself for one. He was a bit upset. I had somehow thrown a monkey into some other grand plan of his. I also had visits from the Legal Attache` and Olga, the doctor, the Gunny, the Lieutenant, and Garcia. Oh, and Mr. Wilson was there for all of them. I was also finally realizing Mr. Wilson wasn’t some sort of aide, he was a CIA spy of some sort. Just what sort of crap had Oba’s cock gotten me into? I was told, however, that it would be some weeks before things would be able to move forward enough to the point I could live with my new fiancé. Oba and I did continue to have our dates, however. The one thing that nobody budged on was that my baby was being born in the medical unit. Even if they had to drag me kicking and screaming. I didn’t have a problem with that. If something went wrong, I wanted the best care available for myself and my baby.
The very next one was allowed to be an overnight stay, and I packed for the occasion, though it turned out I didn’t need to. I spent most of it naked. Either with Oba’s cock buried in me, and making me scream in wild orgasmic release, or I was being attended to by various people who were fitting me with gowns, tribal clothing, and even a headdress. It was that night that I slept with Oba, and we had more passionate sex, which was turning from sex to love. He only used the ring on my collar sporadically, now, as opposed to that first night when he loved using it to control me. He came in me, and as I lay back, he rolled over onto his side and he hefted his cock, and aimed the thick head at my hand. Using his free hand, he grasped my left one and then massaged a few solid dribbles of his genetic material from his massive black cock, and onto my ring. I looked up to him, confused.
“This is a symbol, Suzi. Your ring is a symbol of your marriage and the love between you and your husband. It is now adorned with my more powerful presence, and I am inserting myself into your life, much as I have inserted my body into yours, and created a new life. A black life you will love and care for to the end of your days. I know your lawyers do not recognize this, but to me, this seals our marriage. I claim you now as my wife.”
He reached over to the nightstand and then held out his hand and slipped his ring onto my third left finger. Oddly, he left my wedding and engagement rings from Steve on, too.
“I cannot make you stop loving the man you first married, so I will not try to. But my ring claims you equally as my bride and the mother of my children.”
I lay there, pondering all of this, as my heart and mind were all jumbled up. I loved Steve, completely and wholeheartedly. But I loved what Oba did to me as well. The way he had sex with me. The way we made love. The way he simply consumed me. It was far more passionate and pleasurable than my husband could do. So, I was emotionally in love with Steve, and physically in love with Oba.
“I promise to wear this, Oba, as a sign of our mutual bond and love.”
It was all I could muster at that moment, but it was enough. Oba kissed me passionately, and then he rolled over and was snoring in moments. I lay there in the darkness, using my fingers over the new ring, and just trying to figure out what was going to become of my life. I finally drifted off to sleep, but between the baby’s kicking and my emotional state, I didn’t sleep well. So, I wasn’t completely surprised when I awoke to an empty bed. For all his faults, laziness wasn’t one of Oba’s. He was an early riser.
I lay there for about 30 min, just snoozing and relaxing when there was a soft knock.
“Come in?”
There were two ladies, all bright and cheery and wearing white coming in with arm-loads of baskets and things.
“Oh, good, you are awake! Today is your day!”
“Day for what?”
“Why to get married, of course! Weren’t you told? You must hurry, you only have two hours to get ready!”
What protests I uttered were brushed aside as they got to work, almost throwing me in the shower, one of these ladies stripping and getting in with me to soap me up and clean me down. I had to admit she was dedicated, and I was shaved nearly everywhere I should have been, and she even went so far as to clean up and trim my landing strip. My hair was then dried for me as I ate a breakfast of fresh fruits, cheeses, and bread, and then my toes and fingernails were redone in my preferred blood-red. I was given a set of snow-white Laboutains, marveling at the fit, as well as the expense. A silky satin white caftan was then placed over my head and the ladies gently cascaded it down my body, ensuring it was fit to minimize my swollen belly, and yet try and emphasize my swollen breasts. I had gained a half-cup, or maybe more, now. I wore no lingerie, panties, or bra. It was a caftan, heels and me! The front of the caftan was hemmed shorter, to just above my knees, and the back left far longer and into a train. Oddly, the side where my arms would emerge was very long, so much so that I could not see my fingertips unless I lifted them above my head and made the fabric slide toward gravity. It made me unable to grasp anything. I stood in front of the mirror and for a woman pushing 30 weeks along, I had to admit I looked pretty good, considering the circumstances. Then there was a knock at the door.
“Come in!”
I looked over and nearly shit myself. It was Akanni!
“Hello, Dear, you look radiant!”
“Akanni! What the hell are you doing here? I mean, how? What’s going on... Why?”
Holding her hand up, and smiling, she silenced me. Then she spoke with that elegant, royal confidence I so admired her for.
“Easy Dear. It has taken some doing and political efforts to get me into this room. But I do have to speak with you privately?”
She had looked at my two new assistants, and I made no hesitation or even politeness. I wanted information, and I wanted it now.
“You two… Out!”
They left without a moment’s hesitation, gently closing the door behind them.
“First, Suzi, tell me. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay, I guess, though I am more confused than anything.”
Akanni smiled.
“Suzi, you are far from confused. I have been told by several different sources that you are betrothed to your fiancé, and he is anxiously awaiting you at the other end of the compound. It has been set up quite nicely, and there are over 200 guests about, some of whom you know, though I daresay your husband is not one of them.”
My eyes softened.
“Please, tell me of him? How is Steve doing? I haven’t been able to talk with him in almost 3 weeks.”
Akanni took a deep breath and she looked sad.
“He took it pretty hard. Harder than I think any of us expected. Fortunately, that night, he came to us, and Akoni took it upon himself to ensure Steve behaved. I heard them drinking until late in the night, and then the next day, they spent it together. Steve has been pretty angry, and he has the right to be. My Dear, what were you thinking?”
I sighed and shrugged, to ample white satin flapping about me.
“Honestly, I dunno. I mean, at the time I was asked, I said no, even though I was near the most potent orgasm of my life. That night was the first sex I had experienced in many weeks, and with my hormones raging, I have been looking at every swinging dick, hoping to get it in me. I mean, I have never been so horny, ever! So, I said no, and then he kept on me, and me, and he finally broke me and I said yes. I couldn’t help it.”
Akanni quirked a brow.
“Do you want to marry this man?”
“No. Well, maybe. I mean... yes. If it means I can keep having his cock do to me what it has been, yes. I can’t help it. I love my husband. With all my heart. But I love Oba’s lovemaking in a way that just destroys me. He can consume me, and in that, he can claim me, and I can’t say no. Does that make any sense? I mean, ever since that night at the resort, I have never stopped thinking about his cock and wanting it more and more. The less I have it, the more I want it!”
Akanni stood there for a long second, and she then spoke.
“Suzi, Dear, thank you for being open and trusting me like this. Please believe me that I only have your best interests at heart. I want you and Steve to be happy. Akoni has gone to great lengths to get Steve back in control of himself.”
She then reached out and held my hand through the satin, her pure black skin the perfect contrast to the pure white of my dress.
“This means Steve has also been with a woman. Ever since a few days later, she has not left his side, and they are in bed often. You should know that.”
I held up my hand, looking more like a ghost, I thought. It was almost comical, and I would have laughed, had the discussion not been so serious.
“Akanni, I can’t blame him. I know he has been dutiful and amazing. As I had been, until our last video chat. The men that I had been with had ***** me, and it was only Oba who had not. Please, Steve is a man, and a man has needs. I can forgive him for that. I just hope he can forgive me, and we can somehow save our marriage.”
“One thing at a time, Dear.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Now, I fear it is time for you to be wed to your new husband.”
With that, we hugged, and she said she would see me at the wedding. My two minions came in and they fussed and fawned over me until I was sent for. I took a deep breath as I left the room. It was time.
The walk across the compound took a while, yet it was shorter than the walk down the aisle. The dozen steps or so seemed to take an eternity. I managed to make eye contact with Akanni and even saw Olga and Mr. Wilson there. If my security detail were present, they were well hidden. I was then standing in front of two officiants, a Tribal-Officiant and a Christian Pastor, both of whom were very dark-skinned. Next to me was my soon-to-be husband, wearing the tribal and ceremonial garb of wherever he hailed from.
Other than saying a brief “Hi.” to him, my brain was just too fogged over to remember much, until it came to the I do’s and the end.
“Oba Jaiyesimi Abayomrunkoje Oladele Adébáyọ̀ and Suzi Adébáyọ̀ are now held as man and wife! Oba, you may now kiss your bride!”
I heard the roar of approval and almost thunderous applause as Oba didn’t hesitate and swept me up in his arms, dipping me backward, until I had to kick out one leg to hold my balance, all the while his tongue had invaded my lips, and I gave in to that magnificent kiss, my eyes fluttering closed, and my voice softly purring as my arm fell lax, the flowers in my fingers held tightly in what would become a magnificently romantic series of photos. Even the one angle some enterprising photographer managed to record as Oba’s hand was on my pussy, his finger sliding inside me, teasing my sweetness. I had been so horny through this all that I nearly orgasmed from it all! If Oba had thrown me down and mounted me, I wouldn’t have minded one bit.
The reception was very nice, though I spent most of the time looking at my new wedding ring, the engagement ring Oba had replaced when I said ‘I do’. It laid with a surround to encompass my wedding ring from Steve. If I was honest, all three rings together look gorgeous. Later that night, my black husband led me off to consummate our marriage, which he did with great vigor. He used my collar against me and leashed me to the bed, while he was vigorously having his way with me, the restraint making my passions rise. In the future, I found I would miss that collar.
Oba roughly fucked me twice, giving me at least four orgasms, and then made love to me twice more, until I was just spent. How that man had so much vigor was stupefying. He put Juwon to shame and that kid had me six times one day! But it was with some cuddling and soft kissing that I fell asleep in his arms, the happiest I had been in months.
My restful sleep was blasted awake with the sharp and loud sounds of gunfire and an explosion! People were screaming and yelling, and Oba was already on his feet, naked, with a handgun in his hand. He looked out a window and made a sharp decision.
“Suzi! You must go!”
“Oba! No! I am your wife!”
As we argued, two soldiers came in, and Oba threw my wedding caftan at me.
“Get her out of here! To the North! Get her to safety by any means!”
I was almost dragged out, waddling in my heels, and trying to pull my caftan on as we moved, as the two soldiers roughly led me away from my new husband. I could hear bullets, an explosion, and then a lot of yelling. I was screaming for Oba to come with me!
“Oba! OBA!” he once I was around the corner, he was lost to me.
I was nearly dragged on, through hallways I had only seen before, and around corners until I was hopelessly lost. I rounded a corner and was running, when I heard a voice.
“Suzi! Over here!”
I looked towards the voice, and it was Garcia! I had never been so happy to see anyone in all my life! It would take me some time to realize that for the first time, he called me Suzi instead of Mrs. Recreant.
I managed to jerk away from my escort and ran to him crying, and then he pushed me behind him and I was soon in the arms of two more Marines. We ran as fast as I was able to manage, with Garcia and a few more Marines I hadn’t met before unleashing volleys of fire at some, or something.
I was near hysterics, now, screaming for Oba!
“Where’s my husband? Garcia, go get him! I love him!”
Garcia pretty much ignored me, and as we were moving, Oba was getting farther and farther from me, I was certain. In the end, I was nearly useless, crying and weak, an emotional wreck from what had been the happiest day I had ever had in Nigeria. With everything that had happened to me, I had finally had a night of peace. Only for it to be destroyed.
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Author's Other Note... I am not going to leave the reader hanging. There will be an Epilogue. Please be patient.
