My sister and Abdul, part one.
My father and Abdul hated one another from the word go.
My father had never made a secret of his dislike for refugees, especially African refugees. You can imagine the pure horror when my sister, Fiona, brought home Abdul. Abdul was everything that *** wasn’t. Tall, muscular, young and attractive - and had jet-black skin. Throughout his first dinner with us, *** drilled him over everything that was wrong with him, wrong with his country, wrong with his continent, wrong with his religion and wrong with his race. Abdul didn’t have a job or much education. He came from a poor country. He had no table manners. Now he lived in a refugee reception centre, sleeping six to.a room. *** was just waiting for him to pick up the wrong spoon to launch another tirade over the backwardness of all Muslims and Africans.
It angered my father, that Abdul never bowed to his authority. From the first day, Abdull teased and provoked him by intentionally giving inappropriate answers. He knew my father could not bear to see his ******** Fiona in the arms of a black man. He would torment him by kissing her in his presence. Abdul knew that *** was a coward, and while he might rant, he would not stand up to Abdul man to man.
Bit by bit, Abdul manifested his place in the household. At first he would go home most nights to the refugee shelter where he lived. But by and by he was spending more time with us. He and Fiona would often have loud sex in her bedroom, keeping the rest of us awake for hours.
One morning after a particularly loud night, my father snarled at Fiona over the breakfast table,
“I hope that African freeloader of yours is at least using a condom.”
“Um, let me explain …” she replied hesitantly.
“No old man,” interjected Abdul, “Abdul explain to old man. Me fuck no condom. Fiona pussy so soft. Feel better no condom.”
“I might have thought it,” my father retorted, “nobody in Africa knows what a condom is, it’s why there are so many of you, and why you are getting more all the time. You won’t work or do any good but you can fuck and make babies.”
“And you old man, so old, and only two children. Maybe you sick? Maybe you cock not good for make more babies?”
“I have two ********* because I’m responsible. I bet you don’t know what the word means. I had a vasectomy after Julia, my second, was born”
“What vasextummy?”
“It’s,” stuttered Fiona, her face flushing red, “operation with doctor, now when he has sex he doesn’t make babies”.
“Yes,” added my father, “you should have one too. Responsibility is the word.”
“You broken your cock? You not real man. So stupid. Me have 11 kids back in my village from three wives. Cos I fuck. Cos I strong and not broken cock like you. And me want make lots more baby. Finished with black girls.Now with white girls.”
“What, you have wives. You are married? Then what are you doing with my ********?”
Fiona replied, “Abdul is far from home and lonely. How can you deny him a little comfort? You know, masturbation is forbidden in his religion, and so are condoms.”
“Then he has a backward disgusting religion. That’s no reason for you to go along with it.”
“Daddy, don’t be so cruel. He’s made a long journey, long and dangerous. He’s here in a foreign country. Foreign, cold, and full of racists like you. Surely the least I can do for him is give him a little comfort.”
“A little comfort? You call whoring yourself and risking pregnancy, giving a little comfort?”
“Comfort”, replied Abdul, “Fiona pussy so soft. So good comfort. Mass-turd-bate good for white man, cos black man take his white woman and never give back. Abdul not want that. Abdul not white man.”
“Shut up that talk,” said my father raising his voice,”How dare you. That in front of my ******. You are disgusting.”
“No old man, not disgusting. Strong. Not broken cock like you.”
“Daddy”, interjected Fiona, “I want to be pregnant with Abdul’s baby, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Pregnant from this primitive piece of … . God, how could you?”
“Daddy, he’s not primitive and I’m going to have a baby. It’s going to be a black baby. And it’s going to be your grandchild. I’m sure you will love it.”
“Ha ha, old man” Mocked Abdul, “Ha ha. Old man soon be grandad. Black baby. Black like me. Black like he hate.”
“Daddy, if we have a baby, then we can be like a ******, and they won’t send him home, because a ****** is like, well, the law says families can stay together. It’s the only way.”
“But Fiona,” pleaded my father, "he just said it himself, he has wives and children in Africa.”
“So what’s one more child to him?” Asked Fiona, “just shows he’s a strong man with good genes and good sperm”.
“Fiona, you cannot be serious”.
“Do you understand old man,” said Abdul, “your ******** want have black baby. I want fuck her. You shut up. Broken cock man.”
“I’ve had enough”, said my father irately, “this disgusting freeloader is leaving my house right now, and you Fiona, you are not seeing him again. Do you understand?”
“Abdul staying with Fiona till have baby,” said Abdul standing up, and glaring at my father, the white of his eyes flashing in his jet-black face, “and you old man, shut up.”
With those words he pulled Fiona up from her chair, leaned her against the table, and pulled down her jeans and underpants.
“But Abdul, no, not here, not in front of my parents and little sister.”
“Fiona, we show them. We sex now.”
He unclasped his own jeans and revealed his huge penis. It’s girth was greater than my sister’s writs. It’s skin was dark and shiny and veins criss-crossed its length and girth, like ivy around a mighty tree trunk. It rose upwards in a slight curve, culminating in a tip that was broader still. He waved it at my father.
“Look this old man. You not have this.”
Abdul freed Fiona of her T-shirt and bra and pushed her down onto her knees in front of him. She took that huge thing in her tiny mouth and began to suck.
I was totally shocked. I looked away.
“You look too little girl. You need learn. You next. Black man want you too.”
My sister had a slender body, a narrow tapering waist and deliciously round hips. Her skin was lilly white and her hair auburn red. Strands of it cascaded beyond her shoulders onto her white back. I hadn’t seen my sister naked since she had been a child. My mouth fell open at the sheer beauty of her, her perfect body meeting its true purpose.
As she sucked, her head bobbed back and forth causing ripples to run down her long hair, sensually touching her soft skin. She was now holding his large penis at its base with her delicate hands, while her lips and tongue sucked at its head as if her life depended on it.
“Fiona, please stop,” pleaded my father.
“Calm down Jeffrey,” said my mother, “think of your blood pressure, shall I get your tablets?”
Fiona and Abdul were now both completely naked. Abdul pulled Fiona up from her knees and pushed her backward onto the breakfast table. She upset the bread basket and two of the fine porcelain plates that had belonged to my grandmother went crashing onto the floor. My mother gasped in horror. Fiona was now lying on the linen table cloth, her legs wide apart. Abdul was standing, towering above her. His huge penis was now in his hand.
“Look old man, good cock, not broken, no condom, no vasextummy, just make baby.”
He then pushed it into her, winking at my father. Fiona whimpered as the huge penis parted her soft flesh.
With a fierce determination, Abdul pushed deeper. At every slight movement, the muscles of his strong body rippled under his black skin. And every movement had one clear purpose. That purpose was rocking his huge penis in and out. Previously the penis had been dry as he had pulled it out but now it was clearly moist with her pleasure. Every time he drove it in, her body contorted slightly. Her large round breasts jumped, her belly button twitched, her voice emanated a high note. I was mesmerised watching the pair of them in harmony. In the act for which their perfect bodies had ben created. And just looking at them made my own pussy well with moisture.
Every stroke went deeper, leaving less of that penis to be seen. Deeper and faster. The perfection of his black skin rubbing on her white skin was something of intense beauty. I knew that this was something I wanted too.
Now he was bending over her, his lips kissed her lips. Hid lips then moved down to sucking on her soft pink nipples. Her delicate white arms went around his muscular black neck and held him tight.
“Stop it, you disgusting piece of ….,” said my father, but I hardly heard his tirade as my senses were completely fixed on my sister, her lover, and their joint pleasure.
Another piece of irreplaceable ****** porcelain went flying to the floor. Abdul’s strokes were now growing slower and slower. I could see his penis was now deep inside her, no part of it was visible any more. Fiona’s hands closed his buttocks and tried to push him deeper in.
A low pitched and slow grunge emerged from Abdul. His face was wild with frenzy.
“Yes,” panted Fiona, “all of it inside me.”
Abdul’s muscles twitched without moving. Fiona’s body shook intensely. For a seeming eternity they held still. Even my father stopped ranting.
Then Abdul slowly pulled out. His penis was still erect but clearly getting more flaccid. A thin sliver of his white seed hung between them, one end still attached to the tip of his prnis, and the other to her pussy. As he pulled out it grew longer and thinner until it snapped and was gone. Then, suddenly, a larger mass of white sperm began to well from her opening and filled the mouth of her soft vulva, before flowing out of it like a rivulet, over her white skin, and onto my mother’s costly linen table cloth.
“Fiona,” my mother spoke, “you’d better ask him to leave. Your father is not taking well to this. Think of his blood pressure.”
Indeed, my father was nowhere to be seen.
I found him outside by the doorstep. He had been sick on the ground and was looking pale and weak.
I placed my arm around him and said, “Daddy, don’t get worked up.”
“Julia my ********, “ he spoke at last, “my lovely younger ********”
“Daddy, it’s OK.”
“Will you promise me Julia, that you won’t do this to me?”
“Daddy, I love you, but I can’t promise you that.”
I helped him inside and sat him in a chair. My mother brought him his pills. In the background I caught sight of Fiona hushing Abdul toward the back door.
To be continued in “My sister and Abdul, part two.”
My father and Abdul hated one another from the word go.
My father had never made a secret of his dislike for refugees, especially African refugees. You can imagine the pure horror when my sister, Fiona, brought home Abdul. Abdul was everything that *** wasn’t. Tall, muscular, young and attractive - and had jet-black skin. Throughout his first dinner with us, *** drilled him over everything that was wrong with him, wrong with his country, wrong with his continent, wrong with his religion and wrong with his race. Abdul didn’t have a job or much education. He came from a poor country. He had no table manners. Now he lived in a refugee reception centre, sleeping six to.a room. *** was just waiting for him to pick up the wrong spoon to launch another tirade over the backwardness of all Muslims and Africans.
It angered my father, that Abdul never bowed to his authority. From the first day, Abdull teased and provoked him by intentionally giving inappropriate answers. He knew my father could not bear to see his ******** Fiona in the arms of a black man. He would torment him by kissing her in his presence. Abdul knew that *** was a coward, and while he might rant, he would not stand up to Abdul man to man.
Bit by bit, Abdul manifested his place in the household. At first he would go home most nights to the refugee shelter where he lived. But by and by he was spending more time with us. He and Fiona would often have loud sex in her bedroom, keeping the rest of us awake for hours.
One morning after a particularly loud night, my father snarled at Fiona over the breakfast table,
“I hope that African freeloader of yours is at least using a condom.”
“Um, let me explain …” she replied hesitantly.
“No old man,” interjected Abdul, “Abdul explain to old man. Me fuck no condom. Fiona pussy so soft. Feel better no condom.”
“I might have thought it,” my father retorted, “nobody in Africa knows what a condom is, it’s why there are so many of you, and why you are getting more all the time. You won’t work or do any good but you can fuck and make babies.”
“And you old man, so old, and only two children. Maybe you sick? Maybe you cock not good for make more babies?”
“I have two ********* because I’m responsible. I bet you don’t know what the word means. I had a vasectomy after Julia, my second, was born”
“What vasextummy?”
“It’s,” stuttered Fiona, her face flushing red, “operation with doctor, now when he has sex he doesn’t make babies”.
“Yes,” added my father, “you should have one too. Responsibility is the word.”
“You broken your cock? You not real man. So stupid. Me have 11 kids back in my village from three wives. Cos I fuck. Cos I strong and not broken cock like you. And me want make lots more baby. Finished with black girls.Now with white girls.”
“What, you have wives. You are married? Then what are you doing with my ********?”
Fiona replied, “Abdul is far from home and lonely. How can you deny him a little comfort? You know, masturbation is forbidden in his religion, and so are condoms.”
“Then he has a backward disgusting religion. That’s no reason for you to go along with it.”
“Daddy, don’t be so cruel. He’s made a long journey, long and dangerous. He’s here in a foreign country. Foreign, cold, and full of racists like you. Surely the least I can do for him is give him a little comfort.”
“A little comfort? You call whoring yourself and risking pregnancy, giving a little comfort?”
“Comfort”, replied Abdul, “Fiona pussy so soft. So good comfort. Mass-turd-bate good for white man, cos black man take his white woman and never give back. Abdul not want that. Abdul not white man.”
“Shut up that talk,” said my father raising his voice,”How dare you. That in front of my ******. You are disgusting.”
“No old man, not disgusting. Strong. Not broken cock like you.”
“Daddy”, interjected Fiona, “I want to be pregnant with Abdul’s baby, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Pregnant from this primitive piece of … . God, how could you?”
“Daddy, he’s not primitive and I’m going to have a baby. It’s going to be a black baby. And it’s going to be your grandchild. I’m sure you will love it.”
“Ha ha, old man” Mocked Abdul, “Ha ha. Old man soon be grandad. Black baby. Black like me. Black like he hate.”
“Daddy, if we have a baby, then we can be like a ******, and they won’t send him home, because a ****** is like, well, the law says families can stay together. It’s the only way.”
“But Fiona,” pleaded my father, "he just said it himself, he has wives and children in Africa.”
“So what’s one more child to him?” Asked Fiona, “just shows he’s a strong man with good genes and good sperm”.
“Fiona, you cannot be serious”.
“Do you understand old man,” said Abdul, “your ******** want have black baby. I want fuck her. You shut up. Broken cock man.”
“I’ve had enough”, said my father irately, “this disgusting freeloader is leaving my house right now, and you Fiona, you are not seeing him again. Do you understand?”
“Abdul staying with Fiona till have baby,” said Abdul standing up, and glaring at my father, the white of his eyes flashing in his jet-black face, “and you old man, shut up.”
With those words he pulled Fiona up from her chair, leaned her against the table, and pulled down her jeans and underpants.
“But Abdul, no, not here, not in front of my parents and little sister.”
“Fiona, we show them. We sex now.”
He unclasped his own jeans and revealed his huge penis. It’s girth was greater than my sister’s writs. It’s skin was dark and shiny and veins criss-crossed its length and girth, like ivy around a mighty tree trunk. It rose upwards in a slight curve, culminating in a tip that was broader still. He waved it at my father.
“Look this old man. You not have this.”
Abdul freed Fiona of her T-shirt and bra and pushed her down onto her knees in front of him. She took that huge thing in her tiny mouth and began to suck.
I was totally shocked. I looked away.
“You look too little girl. You need learn. You next. Black man want you too.”
My sister had a slender body, a narrow tapering waist and deliciously round hips. Her skin was lilly white and her hair auburn red. Strands of it cascaded beyond her shoulders onto her white back. I hadn’t seen my sister naked since she had been a child. My mouth fell open at the sheer beauty of her, her perfect body meeting its true purpose.
As she sucked, her head bobbed back and forth causing ripples to run down her long hair, sensually touching her soft skin. She was now holding his large penis at its base with her delicate hands, while her lips and tongue sucked at its head as if her life depended on it.
“Fiona, please stop,” pleaded my father.
“Calm down Jeffrey,” said my mother, “think of your blood pressure, shall I get your tablets?”
Fiona and Abdul were now both completely naked. Abdul pulled Fiona up from her knees and pushed her backward onto the breakfast table. She upset the bread basket and two of the fine porcelain plates that had belonged to my grandmother went crashing onto the floor. My mother gasped in horror. Fiona was now lying on the linen table cloth, her legs wide apart. Abdul was standing, towering above her. His huge penis was now in his hand.
“Look old man, good cock, not broken, no condom, no vasextummy, just make baby.”
He then pushed it into her, winking at my father. Fiona whimpered as the huge penis parted her soft flesh.
With a fierce determination, Abdul pushed deeper. At every slight movement, the muscles of his strong body rippled under his black skin. And every movement had one clear purpose. That purpose was rocking his huge penis in and out. Previously the penis had been dry as he had pulled it out but now it was clearly moist with her pleasure. Every time he drove it in, her body contorted slightly. Her large round breasts jumped, her belly button twitched, her voice emanated a high note. I was mesmerised watching the pair of them in harmony. In the act for which their perfect bodies had ben created. And just looking at them made my own pussy well with moisture.
Every stroke went deeper, leaving less of that penis to be seen. Deeper and faster. The perfection of his black skin rubbing on her white skin was something of intense beauty. I knew that this was something I wanted too.
Now he was bending over her, his lips kissed her lips. Hid lips then moved down to sucking on her soft pink nipples. Her delicate white arms went around his muscular black neck and held him tight.
“Stop it, you disgusting piece of ….,” said my father, but I hardly heard his tirade as my senses were completely fixed on my sister, her lover, and their joint pleasure.
Another piece of irreplaceable ****** porcelain went flying to the floor. Abdul’s strokes were now growing slower and slower. I could see his penis was now deep inside her, no part of it was visible any more. Fiona’s hands closed his buttocks and tried to push him deeper in.
A low pitched and slow grunge emerged from Abdul. His face was wild with frenzy.
“Yes,” panted Fiona, “all of it inside me.”
Abdul’s muscles twitched without moving. Fiona’s body shook intensely. For a seeming eternity they held still. Even my father stopped ranting.
Then Abdul slowly pulled out. His penis was still erect but clearly getting more flaccid. A thin sliver of his white seed hung between them, one end still attached to the tip of his prnis, and the other to her pussy. As he pulled out it grew longer and thinner until it snapped and was gone. Then, suddenly, a larger mass of white sperm began to well from her opening and filled the mouth of her soft vulva, before flowing out of it like a rivulet, over her white skin, and onto my mother’s costly linen table cloth.
“Fiona,” my mother spoke, “you’d better ask him to leave. Your father is not taking well to this. Think of his blood pressure.”
Indeed, my father was nowhere to be seen.
I found him outside by the doorstep. He had been sick on the ground and was looking pale and weak.
I placed my arm around him and said, “Daddy, don’t get worked up.”
“Julia my ********, “ he spoke at last, “my lovely younger ********”
“Daddy, it’s OK.”
“Will you promise me Julia, that you won’t do this to me?”
“Daddy, I love you, but I can’t promise you that.”
I helped him inside and sat him in a chair. My mother brought him his pills. In the background I caught sight of Fiona hushing Abdul toward the back door.
To be continued in “My sister and Abdul, part two.”
