Tap Tap (story included)

Mr.G had just slid the lace panties down her legs when they heard a knock on the door. Mrs. G practically jumped off the couch, hurriedly adjusting her pink skirt to fall smoothly over her hips. Mr.G chuckled as he glanced towards his wristwatch. "Ah, our guest is half an hour early." When the door opened, in walked a slender, almost waif-like figure, a young black man, wearing just shorts and t-shirt. "Hi! I am Kamau." Kamau was a Kenyan athlete - marathon runner. He was there on invitation by Mrs.G, to discuss possibility for sponsorship. As all marathon runners he was startlingly slim, with muscles defined like the contours of a shadow. Mrs. G had brought along her husband, Mr. G, as she had heard that in Kamau's Kenyan village, business transactions were traditionally conducted between men. But life being unpredictable, shortly after the introductions were made, Mr. G received an urgent call. "I'm sorry honey, but I have to step out to attend some business" Alone with her guest, Mrs. G struggled not to fidget as Kamau's dark eyes roamed her curvy form. "Miz G, you have many meat on bones, yes?" he said, bluntly eyeing her thick thighs and full breasts. "Is good! In my village, big healthy wife bring much dowry." Mrs. G blushed furiously, taken aback by his crass statement, but decided to let it pass. "So, about the sponsorship... What I was thinking is..." "But I like. More to grab onto when doing fucki..." "Kamau!" Mrs. G interrupted, cheeks flaming. "Let's keep this professional, please. Have a seat and I'll go over what I can offer you." The young Kenyan plopped into the chair across from her, his long legs sprawling. Mrs. G launched into her pitch but Kamau seemed more interested in commenting on her body. "Your ass and legs very big. They soft? Or hard?" he interjected, gaze locked on her body. "You show, I touch to see." "No touch!" - said Mrs.G. - "And I don't show." Kamau watched her intently "In my country, women not hide shapes. They proud. You be very proud. You have body men want to fuck. Good for making babies." Feeling suddenly very exposed, Mrs. G straightened, pulling her skirt down subtly. "Kamau! That is very inappropriate! And I'm a married woman!" "You speak husband, but in home, family all share. Beautiful women belong to village. " - said Kamau, and with swift motion pulled down his shorts, revealing his long giant cock. It was almost the size of his thighs. Mrs.G found herself speechless, looking at the big cock in front of her, not knowing how to react. His hands, long and agile, reached out, touching her arm gently, trying to pull her closer. "And you beautiful woman. Belong to Kamau." Mrs. G recoiled, the sudden touch sparking a mix of confusion and irritation. "Kamau! No!" - she said angrily, almost yelling. Seeing her reaction, Kamau's face crumbled, the hurt clear in his eyes as they filled with tears. He sat back on the chair. "Sorry! I not want to make you angry. I miss home. I ... lost," he sobbed, the raw emotion making his broken English even harder to follow. "All thing different here." Softening at the sight of his distress, Mrs. G’s heart ached. "Oh, Kamau, I... I didn't mean to make you cry." She approached him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, her anger dissipating into a maternal concern. He sniffled, looking up at her with those wide, innocent eyes, his whisper soft, "You like mother, strong and warm. In my country, women who give comfort, we touch, we share warmth." He hugged her, and Mrs.G suddenly realized that his big cock is now rubbing on her knee. "Yes, but here... there are limits..." Yet, as he looked up at her, and she felt his cock getting harder, Mrs.G felt an unexpected stir, his vulnerability touching something deeper within her. "You give comfort now. Like family," he said, the tears disappearing, as his hand moved up to rest on her hip. "You are beauty, like... motherland of Kenya. So much to give." With a sharp intake of breath, Mrs. G protested, "Kapau, this... I...", but as his fingers slid upwards under the hem of her skirt, and towards her bare ass, she didn't stop him. "Your ass no cover! So round and big," he growled, giving it a squeeze, and then his hand moved between Mrs.G legs. He smiled as he flexed his fingers against the soft flesh beneath the skirt. "Is right," he insisted. "You wet. Can feel it." Mrs.G couldn't help but let out a moan as Kamau’s fingers were now exploring her. After sliding his long slim finger into Mrs.G pussy several times, Kamau stood up and gently pushed Mrs.G onto the couch. He then raised the hem of her skirt, bunching it up around her waist. "You not need hide it, Miz G. Beautiful pussy. Ready to be fucked." She sucked in a breath, her words lost as Kamau settled himself between her thighs. His sinewy frame was dwarfed by her fuller figure, yet Mrs.G eyes were transfixed onto his big cock that he was now gently stroking preparing to enter her. But he didn't do it right away. His fingers were now holding his fully erect cock at the root and he started slapping her pussy with it. Mrs.G was betrayed by her own body, those taps stole away the final fragments of restraint. "Kamau..." she murmured, a surrender disguised in her husky tone, a request for him to stop playing and enter her. "Please fuck me Kamau" - she said. Her hard thighs snugly wrapped themselves around Kamau's slender frame as the athlete slid his cock into her moist center. With the indomitable stamina of a marathon runner, Kamau began thrusting his huge shaft rhythmically and unyieldingly deep within her, the relentless pace pushing Mrs. G more and more towards the heights of ecstasy. "Kamau…oh god!" she moaned. Each thrust of his slender hips sent a jolt of sensual tremors through her body, making her gasp in euphoric throes. Kamau, his breath hot on her neck, whispered in broken English, "You mine now,". Kamau was relentless. Mrs.G fiery curls were bouncing with each of Kamau's thrusts. Beads of sweat were trailing from her neck to her ample cleavage, her skin flushed a deep pink. Her eyes were tightly shut, as she was engulfed in the euphoria of her impending climax, and her moans were growing louder and louder. As the door opened, the low grunt of Kamau matched the high pitched cry of Mrs.G and they reached their orgasm together.