enormous spear, the maddening friction it caused her vaginal walls overcame the discomfort of that distension, and she clutched him with arms and legs, bucking and writhing to meet his vigorous digs. Lakian, enraptured by her enthusiastic collaboration, did not take long to deluge her matrix with his furious jet. Yet he went on fucking, his mighty tool still rigid, lifting Pamela's shivering naked body with every eviscerating thrust. Finally, appeased, he withdrew, while Pamela lay with arms and legs spread out, annihilated by this doubly hard and long wooing.
And what did I do all this time, you ask? Well, for quite a time I watched with admiration these two charming tableaux, till my cock demanded satisfaction. At first I thought of using my hand to ease my anguish, but the sight of Marivol's wriggling bottom as she lay mounted over my master gave me quite a better idea. Seizing her haunches while she and my master still continued their feverish fuck, I aimed my spear at the rosebud of her anus, and soon my cock was buried to the hilt inside that tight, hot, churning sheath. At each of my thrusts, I could feel my master's cock almost join mine, separated by the thinnest of membranes. We regulated our cadence till Marivol tasted the bliss of spending. Her body heaved and quaked, her cries were deafening, and I had to cling tightly to her lest I be flung off.
It was the first time I had ever buggered a woman while she was being fucked, and I swear that no other experience in all the annals of sexual pleasure can so gratify my cock. At last we went to our rooms to sleep, and this time, I know that no phantom crept into my master's room to disturb his deep slumber!
He, in fact, was first to waken the next morning, and went to his niece's room to discuss with her the idea of a trip which he had thought about. He found Martine-Pamela still asleep, the covers flung off and her nightgown tucked up to escape the oppressive heat. He stood admiring her voluptuous young body, reminiscing on how Bouzian's friend Lakian had licked, then fucked that dainty cunny of hers. And the images thus evoked roused him to new exploits of desire as he felt his prick stiffen under his robe. Seating himself gently on the edge of her bed, he passed his palm over her gently swelling bare titties, insistently rubbing the dark coral tidbits of her nipples which soon hardened. Her body began to squirm, her bosom to rise and fall more quickly, and with a great sigh, she opened her eyes. “Oh, my God — then it's true, it wasn't a dream! Oh, darling Unkie, you woke me in the most delicious way!”
My master took this as carte blanche, and at once put his lips to a turgid lovebud; from there, his lips and tongue roamed down her belly to the dark-golden fleece of her cunny. Parting those intimate petals, he revealed the diadem of her clitoris, and his tonguetip rasped against it lingeringly. Pamela went into a trance under such expert caresses; a fit of trembling seized her, and her pussy grew avid for fulfillment. Pushing his face away, she gasped, “Quick, Unkie, ooh, take me — I want to be fucked till I come! Ohh, hurry and shove that big darling cock of yours way inside me!”
Opening her arms, she drew him down to her writhing naked body. My master plunged his cock into her impatient quim, as Pamela arched herself furiously, wanting to feel the tip of his organ scrape the very bottom of her womb. She began to buck like a mare in heat, her titties rising and falling with a feverish rhythm. “Ohh, dig it harder into me, Unkie — ooh, yes, deeper, harder, don't spare me!” she wailed. And as he quickened his tempo, she babbled, “Yes — ahh — like that — ohh, harder — still harder — ohh, Unkie, I'm coming… I'm coming… how good it is! Ahh, don't ever stop, oh do go on that way — yes — ahh, you too, you're going to come, I feel you running over in me — ohh, how hot and good it is — oh, don't stop yet, go on, fuck me hard, darling Unkie!” Her cries of pleasure gave way to languorous sighs, stifled groans, while my master, having given up his very last drop, lay panting in his niece's arms, a spasm rippling through his body from time to time to testify to the violence of his orgasm.
He was first to regain his senses, and, leaving her there to sleep, returned to his room. After a cold shower, he went to eat a copious breakfast, served by the smiling Marivol, who asked him roguishly: “Did Master sleep good, no ghosts?”
“None at all, Marivol! I slept so well that this morning I feel like a young man of twenty,” he chuckled.
“Yes, Master, yesterday too, I know you felt like a young man,” she burst into laughter as she disappeared into the kitchen.
After a late lunch, my master told us his news: “My dear friends, we've been put on earth not to be melancholy but to profit to the maximum from the pleasures life can offer. Now we must take advantage of youth while there's still time. I feel I've squandered enough of my life already, so I propose to you a little trip which I hope will meet with your approval. We'll go to the Belgian Congo, where the pygmies live, and there we'll have an unusual vacation, far from civilization and its boring conventions.”
And so the next day our little expedition set out in a superb Cadillac. In the Belgian Congo about 400 miles to the east of Stanleyville, on the banks of the Epulu River, we met our little Bamboutis. At first sight, they seemed ugly, with their big flat noses, their sharpened teeth and their skulls shaved. The adults measured only about four feet at the tallest, with the waist of a twelve-year-old child. But if these noisy little men astonished us, our equipment earned their curiosity in turn. They were usually terrified to see men wearing white uniforms — a government doctor and his assistants — come to vaccinate them, and fled to the forest with their families and hid there several weeks. But since we had no doctors to terrify them, we made friends at once, principally by giving them gifts of cigarettes and bits of stained glass which they prized. I was official interpreter, since I alone of our party spoke the Kiswaelo dialect.
We were presented to Moki, the chief of the Bamboutis. He was seated on a throne made of four branches tied together by strong vines, and was naked save for a bark loincloth which did not quite hide his penis, which I noticed to be rather large in proportion to his diminutive size.
His village consisted of straw huts, some fifteen of them, one of which we were invited to enter. I saw a girl who stared at me wonderingly. About twelve, she seemed to be well developed, save for her titties which hardly showed. Like all the pygmies, she was tattooed. On her shaved skull, an artist had painted two stripes from palm oil and vegetable matter. A band was drawn from the bridge of her nose down to her upper lip, then a circle round her mouth, while on her thighs bright-colored bands rose to her pubis, which was shielded by a loincloth made of leaves. I promised myself to enjoy a girl like this simply for the unique fancy of mating with a pygmy.
That night, we dined in front of the hut of Moki, who had organized a feast to welcome us. Women clad only in their loincloths arranged themselves in a semi-circle, while the mothers carried their babies in bark pouches strapped to them, and all began their tribal dances. As the others watched, both men and women smoked — for the pygmies adore tobacco. To the sound of their curious instruments, the dancers pantomimed all the positions of love and uttered shrill cries which the spectators chorused between puffs of their cigarettes. It was truly a weird and exciting spectacle.
Then a dozen young girls, between fourteen and eighteen, entered the dance. They had delightfully sculptured little bodies, tattooed on their faces, thighs and bottoms, and were stark naked, even to the thick, frizzy hair on their pussies. As they writhed and twisted in cadence, they displayed the undulations of their fleshly little bottoms. Despite their diminutive size, I could not help getting a hard on, and my master was equally stirred. I had a burning desire to seize one of them as they approached, but I was somewhat repelled by the musky odor of their bodies, and I asked myself: “If I should act so boldly, would the chief be enraged? True, we're well armed, but these little devils are expert archers and use poisoned arrows.”
As the dance ended, the girls came towards us a last time. I took advantage by passing one hand between the legs of the girl who faced me; the others all drew back, still in dancing step, save my pretty little prisoner. She did not utter a word, but glanced at the chief. I waited for the worst to happen, for although the girl looked to be fourteen, I believed her, at closer inspection, to be no more than twelve. My master stared at me as if I'd gone mad, but I had already thought of my reply should Moki show anger: “I did it as a jest.”
However, he did not speak, but rose, with a peremptory gesture that bade the other dancers leave. I still held on to my little Negress while Moki approached, and I will admit I was trembling. He uttered a few words that filled me with joy, then kissed me on the forehead. With his left hand he drew a circle around me. And what he had said to me was this: “You fuck girl, but I bugger your master.”
I quickly agreed, and we entered his royal hut, the Baron Prosper, Pamela, Bouzian, Marivol, myself and Moki, along with my little charmer. His hut was very spacious and there were many sleeping mats. I stretched out on one of them, keeping hold of my little prisoner, who was enchanted with my fair white skin — for of course I had stripped naked at once. Motionless beside me, she seemed to await my bidding. I took her hand and drew it to my prick, and to my surprise, she began to frig me at once. I stopped her, not wishing to spend too soon. So as to hide her face which I could not regard without laughing, I made her kneel, her head bowed to the ground, prostrated as if she were worshipping Allah, Then I parted her legs and introduced my prick between her furry cunny-lips. Despite her small stature, her cunny was superbly endowed, and as I foraged onward, my thick organ reached the depths of
