Chance Encounter Ch. 01

She lay there basking in the afterglow. "Oh, my God," she thought, "that was the best and totally unexpected." She still couldn't believe what happened. It was like the best dream ever, but real. She snuggled against her lover feeling his cock against her bottom. She looked at the clock; it was late. She knew he would be up waiting. She didn't need to explain her tardiness; the expression on her face, the tone of her voice, and when he had his face pressed against her pleasure center he would know. No further explanation was necessary. He would do what he always did, worship her sex with his mouth. If she felt indulgent she might even let him cum. Then again she mused her cuckold of a husband might be unable to control his excitement and shoot his fireworks while licking her clean of her lovers' cum.

Her lover told her the Swahili word for his seed was manii; twice he filled her with copious amounts of manii. She knew once she got up and moving it would leak out of her, collecting in the crotch of her panties. Some would remain, determined to make its way deeper into her body, seeking out its target. His taste and scent would remain with her giving her cuck pleasure for hours.

She quietly eased out of the bed and began to dress looking down at her lover sleeping. He looked content. She thought about putting her head under the covers and taking his thick, black, long, powerful, and beautiful dhakari into her mouth. Not that it would fit into her mouth; even soft it was too thick and long for her to take it all in. She fought the temptation not wanting to disappoint him. When she attempted to after he came the first time he gently reproached her and told her it was against His will.

He briefly stared at her while he formed his words, "Jean', he said with a thick Kenyan accent, "I know your mouth will feel very good, but it's wrong. It's better to avoid the temptation. My manni belong in your womb, not your stomach. Give it time. In the meantime we can talk. When I am hard again we will pleasure each other and I will pass you my manni."

She finished dressing but felt pulled. She thought about spending the night, not to spite her cuck, but because she wanted more of the Kenyan's lovemaking, to feel his dhakari in the middle of the night and again in the morning. She reminded herself not to be greedy.

She wondered if they would see each other again and hoped it was soon. He didn't stir. Not only was he good in bed she enjoyed his company. She gathered her purse, looked at him one last time, and quietly left the room.

She walked down the hallway towards the lobby. She wondered if the same clerk was on duty. He was a young man. His jaw dropped when she and he entered the lobby arm in arm. Not only were mixed couples a rarity where they lived, she was sure he saw her rings. He knew she was married and now he would know it wasn't to the black man with the thick accent in room 112. She thought his stare last time lacked the discretion a hotel clerk should have so she intended to meet his stare with her own.

The clerk was there, a chubby white man, with the face of a boy, in his early twenties. He wasn't looking but leering. The feel of George's cum as she walked prompted her to be more daring than normal. She changed directions and headed for the counter.

The clerk looked away. She stopped at the counter, looked at his name tag, and asked, "Ryan, be a sweetie and give me a sheet of paper and an envelope. I need to leave the gentleman I was with a note".

She smiled all teeth looking like a carnivore about to devour its prey. He blushed and fumbled for the paper. She thought, "New at the job, but he'll learn to not be so obvious. Gaping at the two of them like some idiot."

He handed her the paper and envelope. He also focused on her engagement and wedding rings. The gears upstairs were turning. He stayed planted. She thought about telling him to give her some privacy, but decided to give him a thrill and let him watch.

She fished a pen out of her purse. She ignored Ryan and began to write.

"George, Words cannot adequately express how glad I am our paths crossed. What we shared was beautiful. You are extraordinary in so many ways. I am so glad you let me experience the beauty of your dhakari. I don't think I've ever experienced such pleasure. Each time I move I feel the gift of your manni. This evening you reminded of something I forgot, the spirituality and purpose of lovemaking, the joining of man and woman, to become one, however, briefly.. I felt the Holy Spirit was in our presence with every thrust of your dhakari into my uke. We connected and the proof was our simultaneous climaxes as you fille me again and again with your manni. I hope the next time you are in town you call me or drop by. Here are my address and phone number. Love. Jean"

She reread it several times knowing Ryan was also reading. She was sure he would be pumping his dhakari the minute she left. Her gut told her Ryan was a cuck in the making, small cocked. All he needed was the right woman to let him see the light. She sighed, thinking she already had a cuck.

She slowly folded the letter and placed it in the envelope. She stuck her tongue out and staring at Ryan moistened the adhesive on the envelope's flap. She sealed it and out of habit pressed her lips to the back leaving an ouline of her lips in red. She wrote his name on the front.

"Ryan, be sure Mr. Busieka in Room 112 gets this."

Ryan gulped, took the envelope. Jean noticed his hand was shaking. "Just like my cuck's," she thought.

"Yes ma'am," I will, Ryan replied.

"Good. Thank you, Ryan, and sweet dreams."

"Goodnight miss."

"Jean. And Ryan, if we ever run into one another, pretend I was never here."

"Yes ma'am. I will."

She walked out of the hotel, taking her time, making her ass roll with each step, giving Ryan something to thrill over. Her ass she knew was still fine making men of all ages reach for their cocks and adjust them.

Sitting down in the seat of her Lexus she felt his manni leaking into her panties. A shiver went up her spine as she remembered the power of his thrusts, his dhakari getting stiffer and swelling even more as the contractions hit and he shot his manni into her vagina, deep she thought, picturing his cockhead pressed against the center of her cervix, bypassing the vagina, filling her womb direct with his seed. Another shiver hit her as she thought of the pleasure still ahead. Her cuck's soft, expert mouth slowly and deliberately making love to her sex. If she had to choose one over the other she would forego cock. She looked in the rearview mirror and smiled, "Lucky for me I can have my cake and eat it too."

She drove home focusing on the reunion with her husband. No matter how badly she behaved he always forgave placing the blame on himself. Whatever torments he felt vanished the instant his mouth was at the entrance of her vagina. As addicted as she was to cock, she was more addicted to tormenting her cuck and the feel of his tongue as he submitted to her. She owned him like a man owns a slave, body and soul.