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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to o
o be typed therefore I don't type things myself." I think it's o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Out of Afrika (MF, intr, mc)
mesmerr@hotmail.com
Standard Disclaimer, meaning that this Hypnosis/Mind-Control story is NOT
to be read by persons under the age of 18 years.
'A jail cell awaits' those who believe this story is anything but the
fiction of the author's mind and wild, furtive imagination. If you enjoy
this, or any of my 30-odd hypnosis stories, please email and tell me. It
makes me feel good, and lets me know what you like. Thank you.
I wish you well-Mesmer.
All that aside ... allow yourself the time ... and the opportunity ... now
... to come inside the story ... and the characters .. with me ... I was
right there ... living it ... experiencing it ... when I wrote it ... You
can be too ... And I'll be right there ... with you ... Okay? ... Let's go
now ... Get rid of all other distractions ... including your thoughts ...
and imagine ... what sort of story is about to unfold ... for you ... as
you read the name? ... It may surprise you ... but I know ... you will
enjoy it. *smile*
"OUT OF AFRIKA"
(c)
by
Mesmer
*
Paul Bryant, after six months of providing a counselling and psychotherapy
service for the African government on a therapist-exchange basis to the far
outback regions and communities of the country of central Africa had just
settled back against the firm leather seat in the old rail carriage of the
train that was finally taking him back to the real world of the coastal
cities.
Paul believed the remote country was a nice place to visit, but not
to live there for any longer than he had to-too hot, too dry, and no sea
breeze to cool off the sweltering African heat of the day. Although he had
lived most of his life in Africa, it had always been up and down the
coastal cities. Rarely had he ever had a reason to go any more than fifty
miles inland from the coast. He had been born in Africa, and, apart from a
stint at a university in England where he obtained his degree, he had never
left the country for any longer than a few days at a time.
The families and communities in the far outback regions lived so
far apart there had been many, many times when he'd had to hire a plane to
get him to someone in need of his services urgently-a four-wheel drive
simply being impractical because of the demand on his time away from the
local clinic base from which he had been operating his practice.
When it came to the various languages, Paul had only minor
difficulties. Most spoke English, even if in broken fashion. Having been
raised in-country, he was familiar with most dialects, at least enough to
get him out of trouble, or, on some occasions, into it. When he knew he was
going somewhere he expected difficulties with communications, Paul would
always find an interpreter to take with him. His skills were such that he
rarely needed the interpreters though, once the patient had been told the
gist of what was going on, and what was about to happen. In therapy
sessions, particularly with hypnosis, Paul used facial and behavioural
expressions, body language and vocal tones to accomplish whatever needed to
be done. It was usually done quite quickly, too, and it made no difference
whether his patients had been men, women, or children. Once he had their
full conscious attention, he had them, and that was that.
Now, as he rested the side of his head against the edge of his
hand, tucked up and relaxed and leaning gently against the side of the
window frame, Paul gazed vacantly out of the smeared and dusty window of
the rocking and rolling old railway carriage as it bumped and rattled
along, winding its way up a mountain side toward its first stop.
Thankfully, he thought with another sigh, there was only one stop for the
whole seven-hour trip.
Paul sighed loudly, allowing his thoughts to wander wherever they
wanted to. He was pleased to be going back to where he was going, and very
glad he had paid the extra money for a closed berth carriage. He had been
told he would be sharing with someone, but nobody had turned up by the time
the train had left the station. He hadn't minded, and thought himself very
lucky. There were only two berth carriages on the end of the train. He had
wanted peace and quiet anyway for the seven hour, all-day train ride back
to the coast. That's why he had opted for the closed-berther, and not the
public seats of the noisy old and drafty main public carriages. He sighed
again, allowing the rocking and rolling motion of the old carriage to
gently lull him into a light, dozing sleep.
* *
Paul's light and relaxing doze came to an end when the train lurched
suddenly with the driver's final application of the brakes. The train
clanked noisily to a halt at the stop, whooshing out a belly-full of excess
steam and blowing its ear-shattering whistle twice.
He blinked and straightened in his seat, looked at his watch, then
drew a deep breath and began turning his neck from side to side, trying to
work out the kinks he'd gotten from resting his head sideways on his hand
against the window of the carriage. He was still doing that when his solid
wooden berth door squealed as it was slid open with a bang against the
stops. He snapped his head to the doorway, annoyed that his paid-for
privacy had been disturbed, and ready to tell whomever had made the mistake
of entering his private berth to take a hike, quick-smart. But when his
eyes fell upon the face of the tall black African woman who entered
carrying one large suitcase, his annoyance disappeared as instantly as it
had come with the opening of the noisy door.
As he watched her enter and place the big suitcase on the floor,
Paul allowed his gaze to take in a full and proper appreciation of the
exquisite display African art who stood before him now. She averted his
gaze and lifted the heavy suitcase easily with two hands, appearing as if
she had really only needed one, such was the lightness with which she
seemed to throw it up onto the rack located above head-level. Paul
concluded she must have been at least six feet tall. Her frame was solid,
but lithe, athletic. Her skin was as black as charcoal, almost blue-black,
and her figure full and curvaceous. But what he noticed, or sensed most of
all about his new house-guest was the presence about her form of personal
strength, or power, he couldn't quite be sure which, but it was there. It
exuded from her as she turned and sat down in the seat opposite him and to
his right, away from the window.
Paul had noticed she had not looked at him or met his direct gaze
as yet. Even now, as she sat across from him, her eyes were directed into
her lap, seemingly staring vacantly downward over her nose at her hands
which lay crossed atop it, one palm resting lightly in the other. He
wondered whether he should say anything, or introduce himself, knowing
either her or her family would have to be quite well-off to be able to
afford the cost of a private berth. God knows it had cost 'him' a pretty
penny. He decided not to say anything for the moment, wondering as he
settled with that decision whether she might, in fact, not be able to speak
English anyway.
His experienced observatory-gaze continued to casually take in the
way the stunning black woman in her late twenties or early thirties was
dressed, while his mind attempted to figure out her national heritage. Her
eyes remained downcast and had still not shifted their direction of focus
from her hands resting lightly clasped on her lap.
She wore a mainly royal blue outfit of sorts, Paul noticed. The
black-edged suit-coat buttoned from between her hidden, but full and rather
large breasts, all the way to her waist. Coming from beneath the now-spread
tails of the very well-fitting and figure-enhancing coat flowed a good
quality material of the same deep, royal blue colour, its bottom edging
also finished nicely in black. The attractive material showed the way of
her form by hugging its cut smoothly to her well-developed thighs, ending
mid-way down her calves, which, he also noticed, were well-muscled.
His eyes moved downwards over her ankles to her feet-large, but not
ungainly, nor unattractive for her size. The pitch-black African woman wore
flat-soled blue shoes of a darker colour blue, but in the same texture of
royal shading. All in all, he thought, she could have been a world-class
fashion model of the country. Paul concluded, however, after a few minutes
of wondering, that she was not. If she were, she would have had the
confidence to have made eye contact or verbal contact with him by now. His
own experience told him that once an African national gained confidence
from something or other, it stayed with them then in their personality
until the day they died, as if they had won an Olympic medal or something,
such was the personal importance of the event to their mind-set.
Paul let his gaze casually wander back up along her well-dressed
form to rest once again on her face, again deciding her age was around
thirty, give or take a year or two. Her eyes still remained downcast, but
her head was not. He noticed she held her chin level with the horizontal,
almost aristocratically, as though with a quiet and secret private pride in
herself, or something, and in holding her head that way, with her gaze
downcast, he could see a large proportion of the whites of her eyes. It
gave her a wild sort of look-sort of primeval and primitive when taken
overall with the extreme colour pigmentation of her shiny and very black
skin.
For almost half and hour his mind deducted, concluded and reasoned
about her heritage, given the way she held the carriage of her head atop
her strong, square-set shoulders, finally deciding she must be from the
heart of the interior of the country. All of the Africans Paul had ever
seen that had skin as black as she did had come from those regions. As to
her actual heritage, he wasn't quite sure, figuring she was most probably
from the Masai people-a fiercely proud and war-like culture of people, who,
even to this day, as he recalled from history lessons and what he'd read
and been told, had not accepted any rule over them, but their own. They
still tended their herds of cattle, still grew their own maze and barley.
And when it came to whatever else was going on in Africa at any given time
in history, it had been said that the Masai people simply did not care,
preferring instead to be left alone to do their own thing. They politely
considered themselves a law unto themselves.
Paul could not remember an instance of any of the Masai people in
particular, other than to recall once being told of the fierceness of their
culture in a graphic and horrific description of the gruesome fate of some
poor unfortunate fellow who had met his end on the razor sharp points of
several of the Masai men's short hunting spears. The first spear-point had
entered at the base of his penis, the last entering his right eye, with
several others entering his body at other points upward along the line
between the two. The black man was from another village completely, and
lived miles away from that particular Masai village. He had apparently
become drunk on the local sap-juice after a fight with one of his wives,
and had raped a Masai woman who had been journeying with a small child
between the two villages. Several Masai men had gone to his house in the
dead of night within twenty-four hours and had impaled him in his bed while
he slept between two of his wives.
Yes, Paul concluded, as he glanced out of the window when the train
whistle shrieked three times. A man would definitely have to have
permission before he considered parking his Toyota Landrover in a 'Masai'
woman's black garage. Although, he thought with a silent smile. 'This'
Masai woman would be sure to be one 'hell' of a challenge, even 'with' the
odd spear point or two up a man's ass, just to nudge him along.
* * *
As the old train rocked and rolled along, winding its way up through the
lush, green mountainside covered with dense trees, Paul found himself with
a god's eye view of the beautiful green jungle canopies below him. God, he
loved Africa-'his' Africa-one without the violence and hatred of current
times and times gone by. Off in the distance, far below, he saw a herd of
elephants, spraying water from their long trunks at some of their young at
a watering hole. Closer to the train's passing, his gaze was often rewarded
with the sight of many of the animals his beloved country was famous
for-lions, ostriches, cheetahs, and the odd panther-the beautiful black
panthers, Paul's favourite African 'big' cat.
At the sight of one of the sleek black panthers resting lazily in
the branch of a tree not more than twenty yards from the passing window of
his carriage, Paul's thoughts returned to the incredible sensual beauty of
the shining dark skin of the woman who sat opposite him. 'She' could be my
black panther mate, he thought sensually. Then he smiled suddenly,
impulsively, and strangely determined, knowing there was no challenge, like
no challenge.
His sensual thoughts in fantasy imaged himself as a large and
strong black cat, taking her sexually like a wild animal on the dusty
African floor, surrounded by tall trees and lush thick green canopies that
would keep the burning sun from scorching their naked skins-of hunkering
her down with the force of his body-weight on the floor of their mutually
selected cave-of feeling her flanks flatten and spread beneath his lowering
loins over her black, shiny rump; and of probing her hind quarters for
entrance with his long thick stem, leaning forward and biting her ears and
flesh of shoulders until she arched and raised her hind high, allowing that
which nature intended for the powerful black panther to mate-and often.
And then to mount fast, deep and savagely when she tired of his
nipping teeth at her ears or flesh of neck, impaling her deeply, fully, and
royally. And finally, once lodged within her body, to settle his weight
well down on her flanks and hind quarters so she could not dislodge him;
for once a black panther had joined in flesh with his mate, the two would
remain joined for over an hour at a time. Until finally, and only in the
last few seconds, after almost an hour of coupling, his length and girth
would thicken and expand within her channel that swelled at the same pace
as his thickening, and their mutual crushing would then be incapable of
taking any more. The pair of big sleek black cats would then consummate
their sensual coupling with a mutual release of the most intense sexual
tension and energy found in ant branch of the African cat family.
Then he would savage her brutally with his plunging thrusts and
lunges, snarling wildly at nature in unknowing appreciation for allowing
him the release he was giving 'to' his mate, and the pleasure of dominance
and control he was taking 'from' her. And, as his fertile and virile seed
gushed into her choking and flooding channel, nature decreed by instinct
she would ram her hind quarters back against that part of his loins which
stabbed her in the last few seconds of their joining repeatedly and deeply,
savagely and long as her body sucked the last of the African panther's dew
for her babies to be seeded and born for the progeny to survive, after
their parents had their day of fiery mating in the savage African sun.
Only when the powerful black male panther had emptied of his last
drop would he bite her one last time before leaving the heated depths of
her forced embrace. But the last bite would not be savage-not meant to
hurt, but to show he had chosen well in her as his selected mate-that he
was happy and content with her yielding-with the offerings she had given
and taken from him.
Then, and only then would he withdraw back and away from her,
watching her proudly as she rolled slowly over on her back, with her paws
resting on her shiny, furry black belly for many hours, to hold his seed
deep in her womb until nature told her that several had taken root in her
belly. Then she, too, would stand and stretch lazily, nuzzle him softly,
and then allow his remaining unneeded seed to drain from her loins into the
dusty floor. Then they would hunt together; for food needed padding on her
flesh to care for the young of their most recent powerful mating and long,
arduous physical joining.
As his sensual imaging drew to a close Paul became aware of the
physical change in his lower groin because of it. He glanced across at the
present object of his fantasies and desires, but her gaze remained unmoving
from where it had been since the beginning-firmly focussed on her two hands
resting lazily in her lap. It was at that point, as he saw the shiny,
glistening beads of natures sweat lining her forehead like a thousand
jewels of sparkling African diamonds, Paul saw in her the realisation of
the fantasy he had just experienced so vividly. He decided to use all of
his skills to take her, right there in the carriage, within the duration of
the several uninterrupted hours yet remaining ahead of them before they
reached the coast and their final stop.
Yes, he smiled inwardly, as his thoughts began to race with plans.
There 'was' no challenge, like no challenge. He would have and take his
now-chosen black panther mate in any way he could, and in all ways, before
she would leave his presence once and for all, and for good.
* * * *
Paul let his calculating awareness take in the environment of the car, and
all and everything within, his therapist's mind going into full swing as he
relaxed and coaxed his subconscious mind upward and within his conscious
reach of it. The old train continued to rock and roll along its way,
winding higher and higher upward through the mountains of greenery and
vegetation. Their carriage swayed gently from side to side in constant
motion and effect on both occupant's physical bodies, relaxing them. The
temperature within the car was cooling as the train gained in altitude-a
welcome relief. Yet the presence of the former heat from the lower humid
valleys remained drying on their skins, cooling their minds, if nothing
else.
He glanced again at her eyes, white and downcast above a high-held
chin-her face proud-large sections of eye-white showing with the carriage
of her pride in something personal. Paul felt his loins twitch urgently,
urging him onward in his plans to take and make this black panther his own
for the duration of their journey together. He would dominate her in life
and lust before she would leave this train. Of that, he had no doubts at
all.
Then suddenly it came to him-his subconscious mind giving him the
direction he needed to take his conscious mind in order to accomplish his
lusty goal-'behavioural hypnosis,' Paul smiled. He could always count on
his inner, deep mind to come to his aid when he needed it. Of course.
Behavioural hypnosis-trigger hypnosis, as some called it in the trade, or
stimulus and response-just like Pavlov and his dogs-establish a constant
trigger or stimulus and desired response until the response occurred
without the dog remembering the reason why it did so. Perfect, he smiled
silently to himself. Absolutely bloody perfect.
Paul's awareness took in his intended black mate's seated stance.
She sat rigid, stiff- backed, and very erect, he noticed. He felt the same
way in his loins at that moment. He knew her shoulders and spine would be
holding quite a lot of muscular tension that would only be too happy to be
released, if given the chance. He intended to 'give' it that chance, and
then some. Her shoulders, too, were being held back firmly, proudly,
extending her full bosom and allowing it to appear even more handsome and
huge than his fantasies could imagine at that point. The black
beauty-queen's eye muscles must also be very tired, he concluded, recalling
the strain it must be to hold her head as high as she was, with her gaze
directed downward at least forty five degrees.
Paul's plan slowly settled and then finally crystallised. His
opening to hypnotising her would be the tension build up in her body. Yes.
That was the way. That was the key. He chose a trigger in his mind-one that
was natural, without being too disturbing-attention-grabbing, without being
too annoying and too obvious, at least to begin with. He would clear his
throat, gently, but firmly, to attract her questioning attention each time.
And each time he did so he would establish the trigger-response routine,
until she was completely responsive and unquestioning to that trigger,
without even realising why she was responding that way.
He would start gently, he decided, then continue more firmly. Until
finally he would be dominating-all with variations of the same aural and
physical trigger, but with differing degrees of emphasis on each one,
establishing not only the trigger-response routine, but also his dominance
over her, and all without saying a single word.
Paul had noticed his chosen black goddess only blinked
occasionally, and when she did so, it was a very quick action. He decided
'that' would be the way to attract the attention of her subconscious mind.
After that, it would be her body's natural tendency to use that avenue to
relax and relieve all tension that would hold trapped, that aspect of her
mind- captive, and in the present, until he decided to give it back to her.
Then he would send it back to where it had come from, and taking all
memories of whatever happened within the four walls of the carriage over
the next several hours back down to the depths of her mind with it-far down
and away from her conscious mind's recall.
* * *
After a few minutes of mental focussing, Paul began to pace her breathing
rate. It was deep and very slow. That alone took him several minutes to
become comfortable with in himself. He was not in condition and breathed
shallowly of late, admonishing himself that he would have to get back into
the squash with his colleagues. Once comfortable with pacing and matching
her breathing, Paul turned his head and faced directly at her. He readied
to deliver the first trigger. Then he did so.
"Ahem!" he cleared his throat a little loudly.
Her eyes darted instantly to the source of the sudden interruption
of her thoughts and the silence of the berth car they both occupied,
annoyance written all over her face, a frown lining her glistening smooth
forehead. He took action quickly with the imagined response he would
instill. He blinked slowly, lowering his eyelids tiredly, accompanied by an
exaggerated sigh as he raised and lowered his chest and shoulders. He
lowered his eyelids until they closed completely, held them closed for a
few seconds, then opened them quickly again. To his delight she was
blinking quickly. Then he turned his face from her while she was still
looking questioningly and angrily at him and gazed out the window for
several minutes, allowing her subconscious mind the necessary time to
interpret his behavioural actions to mean, 'Why don't you just blink some
more, let go completely with a sigh, and relax all that tension away? You
know you want to.'
After several minutes of ignoring her completely and gazing idly
out of the window Paul turned his face back to the front and allowed his
awareness to take in her countenance once again. She was as she had
been-head to the front, eyes downcast to her hands resting in her lap. He
turned his head and gazed directly at her eyes.
"Ahem." he cleared his throat again, a little softer this time,
allowing her subconscious mind to associate two tones with the one
sound-trigger.
Again her angry eyes and questioning shiny black brow darted
instantly to stare at him, her pupils blazing their silent message at his
actions. And again Paul met her fiery and focussed gaze with a long, slow
blink, and a heavy, relaxed sigh. Upon opening his eyes again after keeping
them closed for only a few seconds he found her staring directly at him,
the whites of her eyes showing obvious irritation and annoyance, her
forehead messaging her puzzlement at his strange actions. She looked to
Paul at that point like a wild black cat in season, the whites of her eyes
displaying her personal strength and power as if she did not want, and had
no intention of not defending herself. Nevertheless, her eyes again blinked
quickly, several times while she glared, some of those blinks a little
slower than the ones before.
Paul turned away again while she still held his gaze. He looked
casually out of the window as he had before, deciding next time to keep the
strength in his vocal trigger for a couple of more times before changing it
to a soft vocal clearing of his throat. His heart had steadied now from its
original thumping against his rib cage upon the deliverance of his first
vocal trigger and suggested behavioural response. It now beat steadily
beneath his chest. His groin then moved with the feeling of the control
aspect of what he was doing-the challenge of there having been no challenge
before he began, and the excitement, both of controlling her without her
conscious consent, and of the raw sensuality to come, already in full and
glorious living colour in his mind and imagination.
Paul again gave her subconscious mind the necessary time to allow
comparison of the second trigger and the response to the first one he had
given. He knew already her inner mind would be establishing the familiarity
between visual and aural triggers and physical response- triggers, as well
as her body's response. And he knew that finally, when he had succeeded,
she would not even turn to look at him in response to those triggers. She
would simply continue to blink and relax deeply. Until finally, her eyes
would blink and close for the last time, and then remain closed. He would
then test the depth of her trance with a loud and different vocal sound. If
she did not regain her alertness and open her eyes consciously, it would
mean that her subconscious mind had won, and would not allow her conscious
mind and remaining awareness the physical control necessary to interrupt
her deep and necessary relaxation, as it would have interpreted the entire
series of events and trigger commands. He would have won. And without a
shadow of doubt, he intended to. He turned to face her once more.
"Ahem!" he triggered again in a commanding tone as he turned his
head, this time to find her eyes already glaring and waiting for
him-hostile annoyance now written all over her brow.
Her deep brown eyes were black in hidden fury that excited him to
the core. Immediately he blinked quickly in the form of a silent physical
command, as if to say, 'Watch me! Follow me!' - accompanied by a positive,
not-so-subtle curt nod of his head. Then he blinked again, but slowly this
time, sighing loudly and raising and lowering his chest and shoulders in an
exaggerated, relaxing fashion and manner. After a few seconds of keeping
his eyes closed, he opened them and held her gaze and watched, waiting for
her response. It came after several agonising seconds. She blinked quickly
as she stared angrily into his eyes. Then she blinked several times after
that, but more slowly. Each one more slowly than the previous.
Most importantly, Paul observed, was that she gave a little sigh,
her shoulders visibly relaxing just a little with the second blink. He
smiled to her and visibly relaxed himself again, as sign of her reward for
following him. Then he turned and gazed out the window again, ignoring her
completely as if nothing unusual had happened, leaving her consciousness in
the hands of her own inner mind and the natural repetitive processes of her
behavioural conditioning.
By this time Paul's body was as hard as granite rock inside his
loose trousers as he gazed at the mountains to his side and above him. His
eyes followed them down to beyond his line of sight, far below from where
the old train now climbed. It took all of his self-control to prevent from
gripping that part of himself in a fierce personal embrace, but he managed
it for the greater cause. He couldn't afford to give her subconscious mind
any new behaviours at this stage. Then, after a few minutes of staring out
the window he turned to face her once more.
"Ahem." he cleared gently this time for effect this time as he
turned his head toward her.
Again he found her white-eyed blazing gaze staring angrily at him
in response, only this time it held a little less annoyance in its depth-a
little less of her anger. Again he blinked slowly, closing his eyes
completely with a long sigh, accompanied by the raising and lowering of his
chest and shoulders. Again, after holding his eyes closed for only a few
seconds he opened them, found her gaze waiting, and watched for her
response.
She continued to stare at him for several long seconds, almost as
if she somehow knew what he was doing and was fighting him. Her brow
creased for a few seconds. That thought caused Paul's loins to twitch very
strongly in his trousers. Then finally, she blinked twice in succession as
she held his strong and steady gaze. Paul blinked quickly again, nodding
his head abruptly in silent command as he did so. Then he closed his
eyelids slowly with a sigh once more. When he opened his eyes again she was
still there, still with him, and now her eyes were blinking slowly-each one
accompanied by a small sigh and a relaxing of her shoulders.
Paul smiled warmly at her, rewarding her again, then looked away,
ignoring her completely once more. He was now allowing nature and her inner
mind to take its natural and newly-conditioned course-his own mind and
furtive imagination already beginning to undo the buttons on her smart
royal blue coat. Her hidden full breasts could almost be felt in the palms
of his hands-between the fingers that grasped and plied her firm flesh of
breast-his lips already tasting the succulent jet-black nipples that
awaited his mouth and teeth without her knowing or conscious wanting as
yet. The lush greenery of the passing wild, untamed jungle matched his
mind's eye images of the lushness of her black furry saddle, hidden deeply
beneath its royal blue material covering.
Paul decided not to wait as long before delivering his next trigger
and turned back to face her after only about a minute. He took in her full
countenance and body posture. She sat almost as before, her eyes downcast
to her hands clasped in her lap, except now, Paul noticed easily, her spine
was not held as erect as it had been. And her shoulders had obviously
relaxed a great deal, being rounded now, and not held back. Her head now
leaned forward slightly-not elevated to the exact horizontal as it had
been, and her chin rested much lower toward her chest than it had been
previously. He smiled at her quietly, rewarding her once more for
unknowingly and unconsciously following his disguised commands. He was
winning. It was now only a matter of time, and, he had plenty of that.
"Ahem." he cleared again gently this time, noticing her eyes blink,
even before she turned her proud and beautiful head to face him.
When she did so this time, Paul noticed there was only a little
sign of annoyance and hostility in her gaze-the beginning of an acceptance
of familiar events. Also, as she turned her face toward him she sighed, so
that when she faced him fully her face seemed relaxed and calm, her
shoulders rounded even more so, her breathing gentle and quiet. Paul
blinked quickly with a curt command-nod of his head.
She blinked quickly and immediately in response to the trigger,
puzzlement still showing clearly on her brow, as if she were silently
asking him why he was doing this to her. But her inner mind answered her
own unasked question with a soft bodily sigh from her throat, and a further
relaxing of her shoulders. Then her eyes blinked again, but slower this
time, and they remained closed for a few seconds before slowly opening
again to look tiredly at him.
Paul smiled her warm, friendly reward to her, then repeated her
conditioning by looking away and out of the window again, each breath he
took undoing yet another button of her coat in his mind-bringing him closer
to her shining black flesh of breasts and incredibly dark, long nipples he
was sure she would have atop each full mound. Then, without waiting very at
all he turned back to face her. Her chin sat much lower, her back and
shoulders more rounded, and her breathing more deep and regular. Her eyes
were no longer wide open, but sat at three-quarter mast.
"Ahem!" Paul cleared dominantly, hardening his gaze.
Her black panther's deep eyes blinked immediately and closed with a
sigh from her slightly parted full and very kissable lips, her chest and
shoulders falling a little more. But the most important happening response
to Paul was that this time, she did 'not' turn to face him. His heart
skipped a beat with the mounting inner excitement he felt-pure, raw lust,
born of the power of a victory near won- the absolute control over another
human being without their knowing or consent. He was almost there.
Slowly she turned her face toward him, struggling to open her eyes
with the turning of her proud head in a tired, couldn't-be-bothered
fashion. Once facing him she finally managed to get her eyes fully open,
with only a slight appearance of puzzlement showing on her glistening black
brow. Paul smiled a reward to her and relaxed again with a sigh, and this
time, a 'very' exaggerated movement of his chest and shoulders. Then he
triggered her again, this time with force and command.
"Ahem!" he intoned, as he deepened his gaze and trapping hers
forcibly at the same time.
Then he smiled inwardly in self-congratulations. His black beauty's
eyes struggled and fought desperately and valiantly only for a few seconds,
then they slammed shut like the closing down of two heavy garage doors,
sealing down with a loud sigh escaping her lips and quite a visible
dropping and rounding of her shoulders.
Paul just sat there staring at what he'd accomplished. His heart
thumped wildly against his ribs with his growing tension and excitement.
His standing part strained for release and urgent penetration of the black
velvet thighs now surely captured. His imagination raced ahead of the
developing situation, allowing him to vividly see himself, naked and lying
upon her full nude form, feeling her sexuality beneath him and against his
own, exploring, experiencing her blackness merging with his whiteness-
having her-taking her-penetrating her, all and everywhere his rampant
desire took him in his urgency and released heat of capture of the total
and complete domination and control over his unwilling , but chosen mate.
Then Paul cautioned himself to slow down and think with his head,
and not the other- to work to his known procedure and methodology. He
gazed at her as she sat there, breathing peacefully, her nostrils flaring
widely occasionally as she sighed and relaxed a little more deeply with
each gentle breath. He could see her unconscious mind now had fully taken
the lead and was releasing all of the tension she had been carrying, from
her mind and from her body with each rise and fall of her chest and
shoulders.
Paul's smile then slowly faded from his face as he came to the
decision to test her, without any more trigger-conditioning. He was taking
a big risk, he knew, but for some reason he felt confident, going by her
response-conditioning so far. He clapped his hands softly, giving her
remaining conscious awareness a different sound to consider, and, at the
same time, testing her subconscious mind's determination to continue to
relax her mind and body. He was also giving her subconscious mind a chance
to overcome whatever conscious awareness still remained, if it was strong
enough. It was, almost. Her eyes struggled to open at the arrival of the
new sound in her conditioning. Her brow creased with visible signage of
that inner conflict and struggle. Paul then acted quickly and deepened her
again.
"Ahem!" he cleared his throat in dominant conditioned command.
Her eyes gave up immediately and closed back down, her shoulders
relaxing even more visibly with the sigh that escaped quickly from her
throat. Then she just sat there, breathing gently-all trace of tension and
puzzlement gone completely from her face and features. Her head hung down a
little toward her chest. Her left hand had fallen from the other and off
her lap, and now lay loose and limp on the old leather seat beside her
thigh. Paul gazed for several long seconds at the lightness of the skin
colour on the palms of her hands now visible to him, comparing that much
lighter colour its stark contrast to the pitch-black colour of the skin on
her face.
Paul sat back then and relaxed completely himself. He had done it.
The smile on his face gradually turned into a wide grin. He decided to test
her again, more conclusively this time. And he did. This time her eyelids
did not register even the hint of a struggle. Nor did her brow, and nor did
her head attempt to turn to face him. He triggered her again with a gentle
clearing of his throat, noticing with pride as she immediately sighed
deeply and seemed to relax even more so. Paul believed her unconscious mind
was now responding to his trigger without her even looking at him or
opening her eyes, or even knowing the reason why. In her mind's imagination
he knew she would see herself blinking slowly and relaxing even more deeply
again, without doubt, and without looking for reasons why.
Paul doubted if she could even remember why now that she was
relaxing as deeply as she was sure to be, just like Pavlov's dog. Her whole
response routine had seemed now to have become automatic and
physiologically responsive. He triggered her several more times with gentle
throat clearing, watching her relax visibly and aurally with her sighs,
deeper and deeper down into the quiet calm of her own mind, readying her
trance for one final test. Then he tested that trance depth several times
with hand claps of various loudness, but none showed him any visible affect
on her calm face and features whatsoever. His midnight-coloured princess
just sat there, calm and relaxed, and seemingly relaxing more and more with
each gentle, easy breath she took.
Paul's smile then faded, to be replaced instantly with a set
determination and a slight tensioning of his jaw muscles as the old train
finally reached the top of the high mountain range. Now he would take his
mate-his black panther-just like he had envisioned in his earlier fantasy.
He would take her in all ways, and he would enjoy her immensely before they
both reached their mutual destination. Then his smile slowly returned,
knowing that she, too, would reach several intense peaks and passings
because of his sexual and sensual ministrations to her senses and her body
before the old train would finally grind to a steaming halt at the end
station. Yes, he smiled victoriously, as he stood slowly and moved to sit
more directly opposite her. There was no challenge, like no challenge.
* * * * *
After several very enjoyable and arousing minutes of just sitting and
gazing at her face and figure Paul held his breath as he reached out toward
her, his fingers trembling with excitement as they grasped the top ivory
button and turned, releasing it free of its slit. Her lips parted slightly,
but she did not speak, nor make a sound. Her face turned slightly to the
left, but only slightly. His fingers then moved slowly downward to the
second button, released that one and paused. Paul continued to stare into
her face, watching for any resistance, but found none.
One by one the eleven buttons came away from their bindings in his
hand. Until finally, her royal blue suit-coat hung loosely on and over her
fine form, the bright red colouring of her bra against the contrasting
black skin showing clearly to his eager and hungry gaze. He stiffened in
his groin instantly at the sight of her breasts. They overflowed their
inadequate bright red cups, yet were not fat-just full and solid. Only once
during the unbuttoning had her brow creased, but soon after had relaxed,
never to move again in the entire process.
Paul stood slowly up and leaned over her to one side. He reached
down to grasp her coat from the front and slowly peeled it back over her
shoulders, pulling it gently down over her arms until it came away for her
body and free. He folded it carefully, then placed it neatly at the end of
her seat. Next he reached down her long and well-muscled shiny black back
and carefully and gently released the bra clip, then sat back down again on
his own seat facing her. The slim red bra straps were being held in place
loosely between her limp arms and her body. He reached for them, gently
lifting her arm slightly and pulled them through and away, placing the red
bra now, too, at the end of the seat with the blue coat.
Upon sitting back down opposite her again Paul gazed in awe at her
now-naked breasts. They were the most beautiful, most wondrous breasts he
had ever seen on any woman alive-black or otherwise. They were amazonian,
but without a trace of fat. Each extended fully outward from her chest,
proud and full, jutting upright, with nipples long and even blacker. They
pointed and were already stiff and erect. It took every ounce of self
control Paul could muster not to bury his face in those two temples of
black meat right there and then. He wanted desperately to suckle those long
black nipples into the heated depths of his throat, down to oblivion, while
joining them there himself. His famished gaze scoured the soft curves of
each black breast's underbelly, his mind wondering in amazement at how many
different shades of the colour black he could see right in front of his
eyes. Her midnight shining flesh was absolutely mouth-watering to him as he
watched in pained acceptance of having to force himself to go slow and not
ravish and savage her like a wild captive animal where she sat.
Paul just couldn't stop a groan of anticipated pleasure from
escaping his dry mouth. He froze instantly and held his breath, but she
stirred not-just sat there, relaxed and calm, naked and nude from her
muscular, yet relaxed, flat belly to the top of her jet-black head. He
noticed her stomach was as flat as a board. His eyes then roamed over her
hair. It was long and thick and curly, but had obviously had some
straightening done to it in some way. The long black curly locks flowed
down over her muscled black shoulders, with some locks now cascading down
over the top of her gorgeous left breast, reaching almost to her
deliciously extended charcoal teat.
Paul studied her face for several long moments before finally
succumbing to his own body's natural demands of the moment to satisfy
himself a little. Content she was breathing naturally and remaining very
relaxed physically in her deep trance he moved forward off his seat,
sinking slowly to his knees before her, his eyes almost level with those
amazonian black mammary glands.
His phoenix had risen from the very depths of his ashes of
forced-celibacy of late and was now screaming and demanding to be set free.
It pulsed and throbbed and twitched against his own skin after he had
adjusted himself for more comfort in allowing his standing part to do just
that inside his trousers-stand. And beneath his loose trouser covering did
that part of him continue to twitch and jerk of its own volition,
signalling him with its own behavioural language that certain events would
have to soon take place, or he would suffer the consequences in liquid
abundance.
With a mouth as dry as the Sahara desert and holding his breath,
Paul's trembling fingers reached out, each one directing itself
unconsciously toward each beautiful enormous black breast. As his hands
approached each one he could feel the heat of her glistening jet-black skin
transferring through his fingertips, and when finally they touched her
black shining flesh he groaned softly as each finger accepted every ounce
of heat those wonderful, gorgeous breasts had to offer. He groaned
involuntarily then, from deep in his gut, his shaft jerking from the depths
of his contracting testicles-no longer demanding- now threatening.
His mentally-captive black princess stirred with his full touch on
each of her large, full breasts. Paul froze instantly, rooted to the spot.
Then he triggered her quickly back down to a deeper relaxed state by gently
and softly clearing his throat several times. She settled slowly and then
sighed. Images of her waking up and seeing what he was doing and how she
was dressed brought even more distressing images to his fevered mind and
imagination-vivid images of several short, sharp spears slicing painfully
into his body in all the wrong places, but he had gone too far now to stop.
For some reason he felt in his heart that knowing her so intimately would
be worth it. But then, as he watched and sweated blood, she sighed deeply
again, then visibly relaxed. He waited several long minutes more, just to
satisfy himself that all was well before proceeding further, his hands
resting lightly on each breast, covering each and firm nipple. Then his
eyes dropped down from studying her face as he leaned his flushed face
slowly forward toward the wondrously exciting objects of his rapidly
mounting desire.
As he squeezed and gently lifted the amazonian breasts of his dark
princess, his face closed wholly on and over them. Instantly his charcoal
amazon frightened him with another sudden sigh as he cupped and lifted her
heavy black weights. She stirred again, her brow creasing. Paul triggered
her down again by gently and softly clearing his throat. She sighed deeply
and relaxed again. Then finally, agonisingly and with a low guttural groan,
Paul's mouth opened wider, and his impatient and long-readied tongue
whipped and lashed his dry lips quickly as his mouth closed completely over
her glistening soft black flesh of breast.
As his hot pink lips met her black warm black flesh and began to
draw her into his mouth she moaned immediately and sank fully backward,
collapsing against the back of the seat. He triggered her down in a
commanding tone which seemed to calm her instantly, but her unexpected
movement startled him and put him off-balance. He leaned forward and went
down and back with her, lying his upper torso forward over her, his lips
tightening on the flesh of her right breast, his mouth sucking more of the
musky meat deeply into his mouth to hold on to as she settled completely
relaxed again against the seat back, and, in so doing, he drew even more of
her deliciously huge breast deeply into his hungry mouth.
For that moment in time then Paul lost his planning, his senses,
and all his self-control. He sucked savagely on her black flesh, relishing
the primitive and musky taste of her own scent, imaging two snarling black
panthers in his mind's eye of his earlier vivid fantasy. He inhaled deeply
of her own special musk as the salad dressing to top all else to go with
the meal of dark delicacy he was enjoying with mind, body, and soul. His
hungry mouth opened wider, drawing and sucking more deeply on her flesh,
his tongue whip-lashing her trapped and helpless nipple, beating it
mercilessly into submission before he finally closed his teeth and tongue
around it to draw it away from her chest and gaze its long firm black
shaft. His tone of voice with his trigger-throat-clearing settled her each
time the pain of his teeth on her flesh brought a texture to her moans
that was not as quite he expected, or had gotten used to.
He suckled sensuously and long on that delicious and tender nipple,
as if it were the choicest morsel of delicious food ever to greet his
famished taste buds. His lips lengthened it, his sharp teeth gently riding
around its circumference, then up and down its long and rigid black shaft.
Paul felt it stiffen and soften repeatedly, to finally tremble inside his
mouth, as if it were ready to gush forth to his throat and belly its white
liquid contents, feeding him with her natural nourishment. With that
thought of actually drinking her hot sweet milk Paul felt his body convulse
and jerk dangerously, but he was lost to the lust of his moment of now. He
sucked on that nipple and breast hard and furiously, feeling the stud
lengthen, aware of it erecting like a pillar of pliable, soft black steel.
Again and again and again did he draw that long black teat along
the length of his teeth and into his hungry mouth-biting, nipping, sucking,
tonguing it relentlessly like an impatient and ravenous baby who hadn't
been fed in months-desperately trying to suck and draw her life-sustaining
milk from the depths of her maternal feeding glands to feed him for the
remainder of his time on earth-all the while triggering her back down to a
more relaxed state of calm whenever he felt she was mentally rising from
the depths of her enforced trance.
Paul was in heaven as he listened to her deep moans while he
passionately and sensuously fed on her flesh of breast continuously. Until
finally, he released her breast back to her. She sighed deeply with her
breast's sudden and cool freedom. Then he looked upon that which he had
just fed like a wild animal. Her breast around the stud was jet-black,
swollen and prominent, but not as prominent as her long, charcoal nipple.
He reckoned instantly that the black stake must have stood almost an inch
outward from its base on her breast, his contrasting silver saliva
smothering every pore of its length, causing the nipple pillar to shine and
glisten like a diamond of pure sensual hardness.
The sheer, raw sensuality of the sight of that beautiful black
breast and solidly engorged nipple became too much for him. Paul suddenly
leaned forward and fell upon her other breast like a wild hyena feasting
ravenously on its stricken and captive prey, sucking, biting, nipping,
tonguing, pulling and drawing at her flesh-tugging it with his sharp teeth,
dragging it outward and away while he cupped and lifted, sucked and
squeezed both large, full mammary glands at the same time.
And all the while, whenever she moaned he triggered her
continuously, sending her forcibly back down time and time again to the
depths of her own sensual mind to choicelessly accept the sexual sensations
in her body whole that his mouthing actions on her warm flesh were
inciting. And so she remained unresistant while he attempted to swallow her
entire black breast down into his hungry and aching throat. He plied and
stuffed her now-sweating flesh deeply into his mouth with his trembling
fingers until he could take no more as he chewed her black warm breast and
nipple gently, and at times, not so.
It was while Paul was gently chewing on a full mouthful of the most
tender sweet meat dressed in black flesh he had ever had the pleasure to
dine on that it happened. And he had no control over it whatsoever. He
groaned and triggered her as his swollen and aching testicles tensed too
much and released He bit sharply on her trembling teat-nipple as his they
erupted, gushing their hot fiery liquid contents to rapidly race up the
shaft of his iron-hard arrow and emptying copiously and explosively within
the confines of his loose trousers. He pinched his eyes tightly shut in
regretful sadness and groaned, biting and triggering and sucking in pure
bliss and sheer rapture as his repeatedly-compressing testicles continued
to send forth his burning seed inside his pants. Involuntarily he pressed
himself against the hard edge of the seat that remained the only barrier
separating his white trembling pole from its furry captive black cat.
Paul groaned over and over, his spirit soaring upward and out of
the carriage, high into the heavens as he pulsed his passion into
indifferent-feeling cloth, while he hung onto her flesh in his mouth as his
only lifeline to reality so far away. Through several long seconds he was
in heaven with her, feeling as if he were being cradled like he was when a
child in his mother's arms and lap. Until finally he quietened. And all the
while she moaned, a different moan in sound to his ears, a primeval cry of
unfinished sensation, as if she knew-as if she knew. He had dined
sumptuously on her breasts so fine and so sweet, and in return he had given
of his own hot white wine-wasted on uncaring cloth, but he had given,
nevertheless. He was content now in his own afterglow as he rested and
settled with her gentle moans and quieting breathing, lying his head fully
upon her chest, his mouth still engorged with her warm and scented salty
black flesh.
Then, slowly, after several long and satisfying minutes with his
mouth, lips and teeth still attached to her succulent black breast and long
sucking-nipple like a babe in arms he released her black skin and flesh
from his mouth and sighed deeply. And surprising him, so did she. Then he
rested the side of his face lazily upon those warm cushions and comfortable
pillows upon which he had just fed ravenously and completely.
For the moment, Paul was full, sated, and content, but only, for
the moment. He rested there happily on her chest and breasts momentarily,
listening to the old train clank and rattle and rock and sway its way along
the top of the mountain ridge before commencing its long and slow journey
downward again, winding its way eventually coastward as it descended. Paul
was so relaxed with the release of so much of his own inner sexual tension
he hadn't even noticed that one of her strong black hands had at some time
come to rest on the back of his head, cradling him as she would her own
baby-her long black fingers entwining themselves in his hair as she
unconsciously stroked his skull, deepening his present peace of mind.
* * * * * *
Without knowing how long he had been in an altered state himself Paul's
eyes flew open suddenly. His head snapped up and swivelled left and right,
finally his gaze falling back upon the entranced black beauty queen who
reclined naked and appeared to just be sleeping peacefully. Bare black
flesh greeted his gaze from her waist up to the top of her head as she lay
relaxed and reclined on the seat before him. He shook his head twice,
realising with a jolt that he must have dozed off for a few minutes afer
his tension release. Then he studied her black face and features closely.
She breathed gently and rhythmically, her large, prominently jutting
breasts rising and falling gracefully with each gentle deep breath she drew
deeply into her lungs.
"My god," Paul said aloud, but softly, as if mesmerised himself.
"You are truly beautiful, my sensual, strong black panther." he mouthed
quietly as his gaze fell once more upon those long black teats and the full
soft underbelly of each breast.
Uncomfortably then, as his gaze lingered long on her still-engorged
long, black nipples. Paul felt himself stir with a fresh surge of animal
arousal. Then he quickly recalled what had happened. He stood slowly to his
feet, balancing for stability by shifting his weight left and right, back
and forth as required when the old train carriage rocked gently from side
to side, or dipped and rose as it rattled slowly along the tracks.
Paul unbelted and unbuttoned his trousers, dropping them to his
ankles and stepping free of them. Then he kicked of his shoes. He pulled
down his shorts, thinking sadly for some reason what a waste his release
had been into his underwear. He was about to reach up and get fresh ones
from his suitcase when he stopped, threw the soiled shorts to the end of
his seat, then stripped off his shirt and tie, leaving himself completely
naked in the still-cooling humid air of the old rail carriage, and gazing
down at the half-nude form of his entranced black panther who lay back
reclining lazily on the old leather seat like a big black cat.
As he gazed once more upon the seemingly amazonian and primeval
breasts of the large, half-naked species of wild and primitive female form
from a distant past time of the earth, his phoenix and standing part rose
instantly and stood firm-proudly and magnificently. He reached down and
grabbed his soiled shorts, cleansing himself of the remnants of his last
explosive release. And while doing so Paul closed his eyes as the carriage
swayed. His mind and physical senses revelled in the sensitivity and
sensuality of his own firm grip in cleansing himself. Then, once finished,
he threw the soiled shorts back into his corner of the carriage seat and
opened his eyes once again to the raw black sensuality reclining on the
seat below his gaze.
He clapped his hands softly together but she didn't stir. He did it
again, louder this time, but with the same result. His mesmerised black
amazon goddess remained totally attuned to the depth of whatever place her
enforced trance had taken her. A strange and unexpected surge of pride this
time, and not sexuality flooded Paul's mind and senses. It was as if his
heart had swollen somehow. The tests had worked. He turned and readied for
the actions his imagination told him in advance would now transpire into a
living reality for them both.
Paul reached down with both his hands, taking both hers gently in
his, then gripping them firmly. When she stirred as expected, he triggered
her mind back down into a more deeply relaxed state once again. Then he
began a series of gentle leading tugs on her hands while he continuously
triggered her calmly, but commandingly. Until finally she tensed her
stomach muscles and helped him to sit her back upright. Once that was
accomplished he continued to trigger her in a crooning, soothing tone of
voice, signalling her reward for her compliance. Then he stepped back, his
hands still holding onto hers and gently pulled her upward. She stirred
again consciously and he triggered her again. He persisted until she stood
almost as tall as he did at six-foot, two inches high, figuring her height
must have reached at least six-foot-one. Paul then stepped forward a little
toward her and widened his stance, still holding her hands firmly while he
steadied her against the swaying and rolling motion of the old carriage.
He studied her face closely once again for a few seconds, and from
a different height this time. She appeared facially to be relaxed and calm.
Her breathing remained gentle and even. Her belly was relaxed and flat. Her
black, glistening brow remained uncreased and smooth. And with now only a
foot or so separating white hard flesh from moist black heat Paul felt his
pulse begin to race toward a familiar, yet unknown destination. His temples
pulsed steadily and strong as he gently released her left hand from his
right. He leaned to his right a little and peered behind her back, seeing
immediately that her royal blue suit-dress was done up at her mid-back with
only one button. A zipper then proceed down a few inches from that.
Paul's right hand reached around behind her and released that
button, then trailed the zipper slowly downward in its full travel. The
medium length dress, however, remained sitting on her hips and did not fall
as he had expected it would. So far she had not stirred. Gently he then
gripped the loose material on the side and tugged softly. It moved down
half-way over her beautifully curved left thigh and buttock. She stirred in
sound. He quickly triggered her down with a commanding tone to his vocal
trigger. Her black glistening face and stunning features calmed
immediately. Then he reached between their bodies and grasped the other
side of her dress and tugged gently. With only a little resistance he
worked the material down and over her hip and buttock. With one more gentle
tug then on the right side it fell around her ankles in a heap.
She stirred then in conscious sound with just a hint of distress to
her tone. Paul immediately triggered her down soothingly for a few long
minutes with the clearing of his throat, and continued to do so for several
minutes more until she was once again breathing deeply and rhythmically in
front of his face, her slightly parted deep-pink black lips less than a
foot away from his own. He could just make out the shining white ivory of
her gleaming upper teeth.
His confidence growing with each passing second Paul slowly moved
his right hand to rest on the waistband of her underwear-a brief pair of
panties of the same bright red colouring as was her bra. He readied to
trigger her down again at his touch against her skin, but she didn't stir.
Slowly his fingers worked their way beneath the waistband and began to pull
the red underwear-panties gently downward and over her jet-black curvaceous
hips as far as he could. She stirred instantly in sound and movement, but
he responded immediately with a very commanding tone to his throat-clearing
trigger. She calmed within a few minutes and stood still and relaxed.
With his near-naked black beauty now calm and peaceful to his
scrutiny, Paul's heart hammered his rib cage mercilessly from the inside as
he removed his fingers from the right side of her red underwear and
replaced them between their bodies beneath the material on the left side.
She stirred again slightly, but settled quickly with one more commanding
trigger from his throat. Slowly he gently pulled the tight red panties
downward over her left hip and thigh. Then, returning his hand to take hold
of the right side once again, he pulled them a little more downward and
then let them fall at her feet. He hadn't realised it, but when he gazed
down at them he slowly released the breath he had been holding for almost
the entire time he had been removing her red underwear. To his relief then
the pressure inside his head slowly began to dissolve.
Paul could see and feel his own long hunting spear, upstanding and
proud between his thighs. It trembled with rampant desire to ravage his
black panther where she stood. He noticed also his own glistening
sheen-drop dew on his extended blade's very red and swollen sharp tip. He
became aware of his testicles tightening and tensing. Then he became
acutely aware they were aching. His tortured gaze slowly and completely
took in her magnificent and completely nude amazonian form in full and
unashamed pleasure and admiration for god's handiwork min only one woman.
He still held her right hand resting comfortably in his left. It was warm
and damp. Her pulse was strong and steady.
As his gaze dropped from her jutting large breasts, it travelled
downwards, stopping transfixed after it left her flat belly when it fell
upon on the lush black thatch of long and thick curly pubic hair which
seemed blacker to Paul than was her skin, if that were possible. His black
queen's junction beheld a veritable jungle of fine, yet dense forest hair.
His buttocks clenched and flexed involuntarily as his sphincter muscle
contracted suddenly. His his long thick lance tensioned in anticipation of
being released to be hurled at and into its selected dark-jungle target. To
Paul's fevered mind at that moment in time he was completely immersed in
and at the incredibly sensual and highly erotic sight of she who stood nude
and open before him.
Somewhere in the vagueness of his remaining clarity of mental
awareness he feared momentarily of another untimely release of his seed,
but then it was gone, and it didn't happen. For the first time then he
noticed his own breathing had become a series of slow and deep pants. As
he gazed on the sculptured black features of his dusky princess he noticed
that she, too, had begun to pant softly, but it remained even, deep, and
rhythmic-her face calm and completely relaxed-her full sensual lips a
little more parted than they had been.
Paul found himself strangely breathing deeply, and continued to
trigger her soothingly in a crooning tone as he felt himself calm. Then
gently he moved past her naked form, coaxing her to follow the few steps
behind him to the window. As he felt her weight being taken up by her hand
he triggered her in a gently, but commanding tone before she had even
stirred, anticipating her stirring response, just in case. However, she
remained calm in her facial features and slowly turned her upper torso in
alignment with the gentle pull from his hand, sliding her feet slowly
forward until he stopped her and stood with his back pressed up against the
open window frame. The cool air of the train's relative airflow as it
trundled slowly along the tracks felt refreshing and invigorating to his
mind, body and senses.
Paul's disrobed and exposed dark wonder-woman stood only inches
from his own naked form and rear charger. He calmly forced himself not to
brutally take her where she stood and savage her junction with the whole of
himself right there and then, and, for the moment he won the battle, but
not the war. As he glanced down at himself he saw a thin trickle of milky
silver running from the tip of his knifelike arrowhead, down about an inch
from the tip. God, he thought desperately as his pulse raced from inhaling
her damp and musky sensual odour. He would win the war. He 'would' win the
war. And with that he gently moved back past her to stand behind her, still
holding her hand. Once there he reached down and took hold of her other
hand, knowing his most tempting and most difficult battle was about to
begin.
His black midnight queen stirred as he raised her hands slowly
above her head, and, in doing so, he had to press his body into the heat of
her hot buttocks. He triggered her without thinking. His naked stomach
touched her naked lower back. It electrified him, feeling her flesh tense
against his touch. Again he triggered her down. He felt his shaft pressure
for release-to be launched upward right there and then, while it was aimed
at the very heart of her black, luxuriant jungle. He thought he heard her
gasp, but he wasn't sure. It could very well have been him, for he felt as
if his own heart had suddenly stopped when his probe first made firm
contact with the firm hot flesh of her muscled black buttocks.
Paul's breathing came in short, sharp pants and gasps now, yet he
was unaware. He could hear each breath clearly, along with each of hers. He
triggered her down without thinking. Then he moved over her back, calming
his breath and leaned forward. He pressed her hands widely spaced against
each side of the open window, indicating his intent firmly with a
commanding tone trigger before finally letting them go. As his lower body
and torso pressed firmly against her hot black skin and soft rear crease he
felt himself instantly charged with fire. It torched his loins and sear his
spine as it raced straight to the feeling part of his brain. His yearning
and pulsating spear now rested between the volcano of her solid cheeks of
black-muscled rear-end fire. His sphincter constricted again as he felt
himself release a few more drops with that electrified physical and hot
fleshy contact.
Paul stepped back away from her hot electric body quickly, praying
to god he hadn't left it too long. Then he breathed a loud sigh of relief
as he glanced down at his aching shaft. His arrowhead was covered in his
own prepatory silver milky dew. He literally shined with it. Now it was
slickened, primed, and ready. But he was not. Not yet. He breathed deeply
to calm himself, his mind already racing forward, ahead of his present
ejaculatory trauma. He knelt and reached down, grasping the fronts of both
her ankles, triggering her in both soft and commanding tones as he did so.
His hands gently coaxed her stance, such that it widened and moved her feet
backwards and away from the window of the carriage, leaving her when
finished, leaning on the window frame with her hands, flat-backed-her body
outward and backward from the window now at an angle of about ninety
degrees, with legs spread wide.
Paul sat back on his naked ass on the hard carriage floor and
exhaled loudly at the sheer raw sensuality of the black Madonna's form
presenting him now with such an extremely erotic sight. His gaze remained
rivetted on her junction; transfixed between her formidable shiny buttocks
and thighs. His eyes glowed like bright red orbs, boring deeply into the
concealed erogenous and carnal depths of the forbidding dense-matting
mysterious thicket that seemed to beseech him to pioneer his enter it,
wholly and fully. Each rasping and sensually-tortured breath he took
hardened his granite piston even more.
At that moment he pinched his eyes tightly shut and arrested the
incredible urge to take himself in strong hand-feeling with the sexual
tension of his ultimate explosive release he would blast into her darkened
depths with such force and ferocity he would surely core the her private
nucleus, the target of his incredible-spearing it dead centre with the
gushing forth of his airborne streams of hot flying fluid that would simply
scorch through her forest with fiery liquid fusion. And then, after a few
intense moments of battling the natural and powerful urges of masturbation
and winning, he sighed, breathing deeply several times. Then slowly Paul
opened his eyes to the midnight black enchantment and mystique of his
entranced charcoal idol who unknowingly waited for his insatiable loins and
desperate gaze to triumph with a vengeance and loot her of her womanness,
making her his own for time immemorial.
* * * * * * *
Paul rose slowly but determinedly to his knees and inched forward until his
face was only inches away from the shiny black skin of her well-muscled
behinds and thighs. Deeply he inhaled her musky perfume and body warmth to
the very bottom of his lungs, luxuriating in the instant hardening of the
already-rigid sceptre between his legs.
Slowly his hands reached forward and lightly came to rest on each
of her hips. She stirred vocally. He softly triggered her down with the
gentle clearing of his throat. She calmed immediately and remained that
way, even when his hands squeezed gently the warm and slightly moist black
flesh they had been resting on. Paul's hands felt as if they held flame in
their palms. His heart bruised in his ribs and his pulse buffeted his ears.
He felt as if he were in a dream-a dream that would surely see him die at
the end of it and go straight to heaven, or hell. But right then and there
he simply didn't care. He was lost to the greatest moment of eroticism and
sensuality, raw lust and passion-desire that any man could have ever had
the pleasure to face and be a living, breathing part of, in all his life.
His eyes roamed the broad, muscular length of her long, flat
shining ebony back, finally coming to rest on, and centring on, the even
darker furrow between her widely-placed legs. He clenched the warm meat of
her hips and brought himself forward towards that portion of her dusky
anatomy that came closer by the living, breathing second-triggering her
down in anticipation. She relaxed. Then, when his head dipped a little, and
his mouth opened, his tongue reached passionately for the very core of that
obscure, haunting and formidable wilderness. He gasped and inhaled her,
intensely, and he very nearly pass out, such was the incredibly carnal and
sexual fragrance that welcomed his flaring nostrils. Paul became at once
intoxicated, exhilarated, His senses reeled crazily. His intellect
collapsed. He closed his eyes with a drawn out groan and a rapturous cry
from his gut, signalling silently that the creator could seize him now,
whenever they wished, such was his absolute condition of ecstasy at that
instant.
His hands deepened their grasp, and his tongue extended to the
utmost of its travel from his open mouth. He breathed deeply once more and
leaned forward into her compelling sexual and perfumed-aroused fragrance
and musk. His hands gently pulled her dark core toward him as his tongue
flattened and his head bowed even lower. And then he brushed steamy black
fleece for the first time. It was galvanizing-pacifying and disturbing both
at the same time, thirst-quenching and stomach-filling. God, his remaining
shred of awareness screamed at him. He was losing it, but he simply didn't
care.
Slowly, he commenced to drag the flat of his tongue backward from
as far forward between her ebony wilderness intersection as was possible
for his face and tongue to reach. He kept the pressure of his tongue on her
person feathery, yet exact enough to feel the gently- changing outlines and
profile of her soft, warm succulent creases and ravines that formed the
meaty contours of her genitals. He moaned at the slight trace of her he was
absorbing through his tongue with only the lightest of nearness with her
actual warm flesh. As he inched the flat of his tongue gently backwards
over the foyer of her junction Paul felt it slip easily over the surface of
her soft skin, helped by the slickened taste of her oily nectar. It tasted
pure and sweet-raw, dizzying and strong-such a blend to his over-excited
taste-buds as would send any man instantly into a padded cell and stay
there, willingly, savouring her aromatic native wine for time immemorial.
As Paul's tongue flattened and slithered slowly across the door to
her warm cave he felt her sink a little in his grasp on her hips. He
squeezed a little more tenaciously, supportively, triggering her
soothingly. He couldn't help but swallow a little of her magic elixer with
his tongue's passage-it's honey and fiery taste slid down his throat and
ignited his loins further, as if it were the smoothest alcohol he had ever
consumed into his belly. His senses swooned once again, coinciding with the
crazy swimming of his mind. His eyes remained tightly closed as he
continued to drag the flat of his tongue even further backward-back across
the very smooth perenium-so soft as reflected the sheer smoothness of a
perfect flawless diamond, except that this surface was warm-very warm.
Paul felt her dip a little more, knowing she was forfeiting the
strength in her legs for the pleasure in her mind and body. She buckled at
the knees a little as her body continued to relax to his gentle triggers,
and respond to the sensual ministrations of his tongue on her most private
flesh. Every now and then she would moan softly-a deep sound, as if it came
from the very bottom of her gut-a primitive sound-a primal, uncivilised
sound that only served to fossilize and harden his javelin even more. His
hands gripped and supported her more firmly, more strongly, his fingers now
deepening their indenture into her shining warm black flesh.
Then his hands moved backward-backward and downwards until they
rested on each firm and warm black buttock. They gently pulled and spread
them apart as his face and mouth continued their backward and now-upward
travel, dawdling the flat of his tongue deeply up between the scalding
depths of her backside. Paul breathed deeply and spread her cheeks a little
more, expecting the touch of his tongue on her tight tiny starfish at any
second... and there it was. The instant his hot tongue touched the warm
skin of her surround she sank deeply at the knees, moaning long and
low-pitched. Her buttocks twisted strongly in his hands, such that he had
to forcibly counter their powerful strength in clenching closed. Then his
razing tongue dragged slowly across the black queen's quivering rim and
paused briefly, tasting her forbidden sweet dew once more. Once more Paul
felt dizzy and lost- intoxicated.
He was shaking as he held the flat of his tongue right there,
clothing her perfect rippling starfish, yet not wanting to explore her
there just yet... and then he did ... deeply, completely, and
intensely-holding her impaled as such for several long seconds before
withdrawing again. Her moaning at his deep and carnal penetration turned
instantly to deep groans from her gut. He could feel it resonate through
his sensitive hands. And it continued for as long as the tip of tongue
delayed at her fluttering entrance.
Then her insensible moaning began in earnest with his triggering as
he continued on dragging the flat of his tongue upwards between the deep
and heated split of her behind, and up onto her lower back. He gently bit
the warm soft black meat deeply inside of each clenching and flexing cheek.
Then he strengthened his grip, holding her crease pressed firmly against
his mouth and face, his tongue snaking everywhere with a mind all of its
own. When he reached the base of her spine he shifted his hands and slowly
rose to his feet behind her, his fingers moving upwards along her back to
grip firmly upon each muscled shoulder.
It happened without him even being aware of it, somewhere along the
sensuous way from deeply between her dark, humid thighs, and through and up
to the bottom of her spine. Paul had transcended one reality for another,
and was now lost to another world-the world of black panther's, courting
and mating in the African land he loved so much-the world of his fantasy of
earlier hours. He was no longer caged within the confines of the old
railway carriage, but instead, saw and heard and felt and smelled himself
in the jungle, with her, his chosen black mate. And in his courtship of her
he had touched her skin to his-smelled her musk and strong mating scent
meant only for him; tasted her mix had her blend of forced arousal and pure
raw lust of wanting to be joined, no matter what the cost, in order for the
species to survive. Animal instincts took over his mind, body, and senses
now, guiding his every move. He moved without thinking, without planning,
naturally, easily, deliberately. He moved, like an animal-like a primate.
The dense green jungle floor surrounded them both, giving them
privacy for their mating ritual-the thick green jungle canopy shading their
light and black fur-coated bodies from the scorching, burning African sun.
The canopy shade cooled them-it soothed them-it readied them for that which
yet remained undone-the final mating-the taking-the giving-the completion
of them both that justified their existence to themselves and promised long
life to their ongoing species.
Paul leaned down over her long, sleek back, his head nuzzling first
at the base of her spine. He sniffed her, his nostrils flaring widely as
they neared her heated and naturally scented black skin. His sounds
triggered her, yet he did not consciously choose to do trigger her that way
anymore. His sounds calmed her without thinking now, when she needed it.
She was skittish. He sensed it in her response of returned sounds-in the
jittery and skittish twisting and withdrawing and hunching of her hind
quarters at his close proximity to her own. She was frightened. He sensed
it, yet he meant her no harm, other than to carry out nature's wish for
them both-to mate, and to breed, so their species would continue. Paul
believed the sounds of his own voice were the encouraging and soothing
snarls of the strong and large black panther he now believed he was in
every sense-in every way and manner. He now had become in every sense, his
living fantasy.
He opened his mouth and bared his teeth against the base of her
spine, just above the deep, dark crease of her hind quarters-lips pulled
back tightly. He heard and then felt her hesitant and cautious, yet
instinctively-wanted acceptance. Then her flanks shifted a little, pressing
him, grazing his hardness from side to side with her nature's heat as she
moved her hind quarters from side to side. His mouth and teeth moved slowly
upwards along the centre of her glistening shiny black back, his tongue
dipping and diving slowly, sensuously over every living vertebrae-his teeth
nipping gently before moving on to the next.
His chosen mate snarled loudly as his hungry mouth opened wide and
drew strongly on the muscled flesh between her shoulder blades. Her long
black back bowed deeply downward as her shoulder muscles rippled and
hunched together in pain and pleasure both, forcing her hind quarters back
firmly against his rampant searching, probing loins. The movement arched
her warm buttocks firmly into his already hard trembling phoenix. The
strong black panther sensed her mating heat, but thought of it not.
Paul was no longer human in his mind, thoughts, emotions or
actions. He was pure animal-pure black panther-pure mating-lust in motion,
hovering above the panting and slowly-twisting flanks of his
softly-snarling chosen mate. Paul's ears only heard the sound of her
frightened, yet accepting snarls-snarls of readiness-snarls of fear of the
unknown-of preparation from her-his chosen mate soon-to-be.
He grazed her shoulder's flesh deeply, biting gently, teeth rimming
each muscle- tasting, appreciating, then releasing for another. His throat
snarled unconscious and instinctive triggers to her-sometimes
sharply-sometimes softly, but always often. Her black sweating flesh tasted
to him like sweet meat, firing his loins and trembling his own core lodged
firmly between her ever-rustling and grazing hind quarters of fire. His
lengthening slickened probe acted with its own one-track animal mind,
searching in vain for her hot, wet entrance-probing upward-straining upward
into the densely matted black forest and crevice it found itself wedged in
so deeply, and so tightly.
He released her wet, warm flesh back to her and leaned even further
forward over her, in his mind hunkering her down with his body-weight as he
felt her fear of his dominance-a fear that he would soon be there, inside
her body-a apart of her inner being, and then she would soon be his. His
strong arms reached forward and covered her hands gripping the window of
the carriage, holding them tightly-trapping them-trapping her as his heated
loins probed deeply time after time after time into the moving depths of
her grazing warm fury rump, sensing the way to her molten core.
Then he pulled his body even more upwards along and against her
own, his mouth now almost beside her ear, hearing her deep, rapid pants,
hearing his own as well-the twisting and grazing of her hind quarters now
stilling, as if both knew it was almost time. Then suddenly, like a
heat-seeking missile that never missed its chosen target, almost instantly,
he was there. He snarled and groaned victoriously, thrusting savagely
upward against the tight liquid warmth and wetness-felt a resisting
barrier, then trust hard again, tearing and shredding through it, cleanly
and easily, like a hot knife through butter. He had speared his mate's
tight liquid core truly and deeply.
His frightened mate snarled in terror at his deep and lengthy
impalement of her hind quarters. He hunkered down on her rump from
instinct, pinning her skittish flanks and thighs, holding her down with his
own weight. He sensed from instinct that his chosen mate had known no other
panther inside her. He was her first. And with that sense of awareness he
trapped her flanks between his own strong and powerful thighs and legs and
inched his way slowly even further up along her back, forcing himself to
the very depths of her clenching hot channel and more.
By instinct now he did not thrust, but sought to reach the entrance
beyond the end of the depth where his slowly expanding phalanx now rested
fully lodged-to open and that door for the emptying of their young to be.
His claws turned to steel over her straining paws, his loins flared and
opened widely against her trembling and twisting rear. His mate tried to
shake herself free of that which was now so fully embedded inside her hind
quarters so as to be almost a part of her own bodily anatomy, but she was
trapped from any movement by his powerful legs wrapped around either side
of her flanks.
He bit gently then fiercely on the salty flesh of her neck as she
swung it frantically from side to side. He snarled softly and then sharply.
His mate calmed, then bucked wildly as he inched his long body even more
deeply inside her hot, clenching cavern. He felt himself expanding from all
sides at once within her tight slippery confines-that slickness allowing
his penetration to deepen to the final destination nature had intended. His
mate's snarl turned to a whimper as her cervix opened and allowed entrance
to the arrow-tipped spear that forced its way through its soft, trembling
gates. He bit her ear and nuzzled her neck, snarling softer now.
Now he was where he had to be-wanted to be-needed to be in order to
wait for the time when he would empty inside her special place. He would
wait and hold her there, still and clenching while he swelled and readied,
nuzzling and soothing, and she would soon calm, for now she knew
instinctively why he was there, buried so deeply inside her own body. He
was there, and she was there, to mate-to breed-to continue the species as
was nature's wish and that of her own destiny.
His loins ground tightly up against her trembling rump and flanks,
pushing against and into her depths to gain even more distance inside her
cavern beyond the first cavern, but he had now almost filled both with his
long length and girth. Her heated clenching and releasing on his shaft was
quickly causing the natural expansion and swelling which forced the
pressure quickly upward along his length; and the clenching of the warm
soft mouth that sucked thirstily on his rapidly-swelling arrowhead-that
part of her body now understanding the reason for its presence, and so
caused the expansion of that part of him, too.
His body felt hers as it clenched and released his own-he
swelled-it sucked and drew as his expansion in every direction within her
tight cocoons continued into pain and pleasure both. Her hind quarters
forced hard back vigorously while he pressed deeper still. Until her
writhing and twisting body and channels clenched his length and sucked his
bursting tip one final time too many. The explosion occurred and became a
rapid implosion at the same time-his own body then opening the floodgates
of its molten tip, allowing to gush forth its liquid fiery white seed of
life of the many young destined to follow in his strong footsteps. His
erupting tip feeling her inner mouth beyond her slickened and full cavern
opening wide and drinking greedily, hungrily, selfishly sucking with
strength such as to draw all of his seed from the depths of its birth, and
try for even more after that.
He groaned loudly and bit down hard into her shoulder's sweating
flesh, while she howled a long, low guttural snarl of nature's
happiness-her body drinking and draining its full of him, over and
over-again and again, until he felt she had drained him dry. Yet still he
remained pressed hard and tight against her accepting rear quarters-as
joined as one body, just as nature had intended for them all along. She
forced herself back against him urgently, arching her back low, raising her
hind quarters high for him and nature's destiny and progeny, then suddenly
dropped her hands from the window to the floor and laid her head on her
forearms. Hut hind quarters arched instantly high up against him,
presenting her canal with a different angle for deeper penetration of her
thirsty womb. He sensed the change immediately and thrust and groaned,
feeling her flare her flanks and force her strong thighs wider and more
upward against the strength of his own plundering-his pillaging of his
mate's chasm depths. He knew her thirsty body had been built by nature, as
had his own-to crave this moment and make it last as long as it could-the
future of their species depending on it. He continued to feel her body
drink-draining him even when the furry sac of his deep well was dry. Until
finally, she relaxed against the pressure of his holding as he followed
suit immediately. But did not withdraw his still-pulsing lance from her
fluttering depths.
As his body remained fully expanded and open within hers, he felt
her lift her hips and force her hind quarters upwards-opening inner herself
even more fully against him-pressing him-hilting him-swallowing his all. He
snarled in wild abandonment and animalistic fury in raw lust spending
copiously inside her warm cocoons-thrusting, straining to penetrate her
inner core more deeply. He could feel as a palpitating heartbeat that raced
within his thumping rib-cage, her hot wet channels as they clenched and
released, sucked and drew on him ferociously, greedily, thirstily-all the
time hunkering his upper torso down over her-increasing his heavy weight
upon her angled-down back to prevent her from moving and losing that which
still spewed forth from his loins in abundance.
In that way then did he hold her trapped and panting harshly
beside his face-her own rapid panting now deep and harsh-rasping. He licked
her skin tenderly as he continued to empty, sucking and nipping her flesh
gently then savagely in unconscious orgasmic ferocity. His vocalising
sounding a different tone now in answer to his mate's offer of complete and
utterly absolute yielding through sensing nature's destined call for her
final complete and willing submission-her own snarls now sounding to him
like low-pitched contented purrs.
And so, joined like that-coupled together as one-copulating still
in their quieting exchange of bodily sharing of fluids blended for life to
exist they breathed as one-hard loins to soft rear they remained for a very
long time-every passing second relaxed their bodies and all that lie within
and between them both. Until finally, he slowly withdrew by raising his
loins high in the air, yet kept the strength in his claws over her hands,
for he knew nature did not want her to move as yet. He watched beneath him
and backwards as her flanks and hips remained docile as he left her. She
snarled softly, deeply from the back of her throat-purring as her hind
quarters remained as he had left them-arched high in the air, moving and
rocking gently from side to side in a slow swaying motion.
Then slowly he released her paws and quickly lifted and rolled her
gently sideways on her back on the raised section of soft, cold surface
beside her. Tenderly he drew her feet high up on her chest and closed her
own strong hands about them to hold them there, knowing nature dictated
that as many of his seeds take root in his mate's chosen womb as was
possible for the future of their young panthers to frolic and play on the
dusty African plains, knowing their survival depended on strength of
numbers.
For a long time then he simply stood and watched her, his mate. He
swayed occasionally as the earth seemed to move beneath his paws, but he
was content. He had felt nature's victory within her heated and clenching,
suckling depths, and he had sensed at that crucial time in nature's
inevitable that his virgin mate had felt it as well. His seeds had taken
root-of that he had no doubt whatsoever. Yes. He was content.
He arched his neck and held his strong head high and proud. Then he
inhaled and
breathed deeply, smiling as his attention was suddenly caught
by a change in the scenery to his left. The smile vanished instantly. His
head snapped sideways towards the distraction. His mouth opened, snarling
protectively, aggressively- lips tightly pulled back against bared white
teeth that gleamed ready to sink deep into intruder flesh-ready to fight
and defend his mate who even now bore their unborn young inside the cooling
warm depths of her soft belly. The distractions were many-trees-thatched
village huts-humans and children playing in the dusty earth-flashing
by-flashing by-rushing by the window-the window-the window of the train-the
open widow of the old railway carriage. He blinked several times, shaking
his head from side to side, confused, dazed and disoriented.
And with those thoughts and images rushing by outside the window,
Paul Bryant, the man, regained his clarity of vision and full mental
faculties. His fantasy was over. He was who he was. He knew who he was-what
he was doing on the train-what he had just done. He was back to his
existing as himself. His head turned slowly back around as he gazed down at
the vision of black midnight loveliness lying on the old leather seat with
her knees pulled tightly up against her gently rising breasts and belly,
her ankles held there by her own hands. And as he watched her-as he gazed
warmly down at her, his mate-his black panther virgin princess, his eyes
welled with salty, stinging tears. Until finally they overflowed and
cascaded freely down his cheeks and chest.
He sat down on his own seat, his gaze never leaving her, holding
his head in his hands as he watched her. And then he softly cried for that
which he had found and would soon lose again, forever. For the first time
he could ever remember, Paul Bryant cried for a truth he had discovered in
the middle of a wondrous, and yet, unreal happening, living fantasy-he had
finally found, after thirty-four years of hoping and searching, the woman
he would have married.
Paul shook his head sadly as his gentle, silent crying ceased. His
future lay clear to him now, because of his recent past. Not only did he
not know her name, they had not spoken one single word. As well, Paul knew
he had impregnated her with the loss of her virginity-had sensed it-had
felt it, with every fibre of his being. The strange thing was he felt calm
and happy about that-contented somehow, as if it had been destined to
happen just that way. Yet, he smiled softly through his drying tears and
reached his right hand across and rested it gently on her soft black belly,
hearing her make a soft noise as he touched her skin that sounded to him
like a contented cat's purr. They had communicated- in nature's way they
had communicated-they had mated. They had mated, together again for the
very first and very last time.
Paul stood slowly, reached down and withdrew her hands from around
her ankles and lay them on the seat beside her. Then he gently grasped her
soft feel and lowered her legs to the seat. She lay quietly, as if
sleeping. Her beautiful breasts rose and fell in time with her quiet
breathing-her soft flanks hollowing and filling in time with them both. My
god, Paul thought desperately, sadly and regretfully as he gazed at the
full-length nudity of her black sensual beauty. How did I find you? Where
did you come from? How did you find me? His his eyes welled up once more
from the watery springs of his aching and breaking heart. Then gently, he
lifted her ankles and turned them around, lowering her feet to the floor.
He turned and gently placed his left hand beneath her warm damp neck and
lifted slowly, while his right hand held her left and helped pulled her up
and around into a sitting position. Her eyes remained closed the whole
time-her breathing calm and steady.
Paul knew what had to now be done. He reached down to his seat and
grabbed his underwear he had earlier discarded. Then he gently coaxed her
to stand, steadying her with soothing triggers from his throat as he did
so. Carefully then he placed the material between her open thighs and held
it there, pressing slightly upward. His hand went around her waist to hold
her even more firmly while he did so. It was then he felt her unconsciously
tense her stomach muscles and brace downward and he smiled as his heart
swelled. Unconsciously she knew what he was trying to do. The lump in his
throat just grew larger.
When he was sure he had cleansed her as best he could he threw the
soiled material out of the window of the train, watching it disappear over
the side of the bridge the train happened to be trundling over. It
disappeared from view as it floated down to the rushing river far below.
The rivers in this region always increased the speed of their currents as
they flowed downwards on their final journey to the bustling African coast.
Paul turned back to her, gazing at her naked loveliness one last
time, again feeling the size of the lump in his throat growing in
thickness. His eyes remained half-brimmed with the last of his unshed
tears, now that his futile crying was all done. Slowly, tenderly, he then
carefully and tenderly dressed her as she had been when he had first laid
eyes on her magnificent face and features. Then he gently sat her down
where she had previously been seated. After gazing at her relaxed
loveliness Paul then dressed himself, minus his underwear, and sat down to
contemplate bringing about his own finality.
* * * * * * * *
Unconsciously, as Paul looked at the striking dark features of her strong
face, from within his top pocket he withdrew a deep blue handkerchief he
had been given for his birthday, and, rising off his seat and leaning
towards her he reached out and softly dabbed at the corners of her eyes,
then gently down along the still-shiny trails over both her cheeks where
her own tears had flowed, unnoticed by them both in the heat and utter
focus of their coupling-their first and final mating. Then he sat back down
near the window where he had formerly been, to just sit and just stare at
her for many long minutes, noticing ironically that the colour of his
handkerchief was almost identical to the colour of her royal blue coat.
Paul's thoughts quickly considered whether or not she would
remember anything, part of something, or, simply nothing at all. In the
end, he decided he just didn't care. In his heart of hearts he knew he had
finally found the perfect and destined woman of his dreams, and, he had
raped her without her knowledge or consent-worse still, he had impregnated
her-he knew it truly in his soul. He also had no knowledge of her true
heritage, and so had ruined her body as well, for any future husband who
would be sure to know, as 'she' would, too, at her first period being
overdue.
No, he sighed deeply in despair of having found her and lost her at
the same time. He simply didn't care what his vision of black loveliness
remembered or did to him when she awoke-he deserved to go to jail. But he
would go happy and content in a strange way within himself. It was true he
had found her- his heart told him so; and it was true that he had now, or
would soon lose her-his head told him that one easily. But, he had 'loved'
her truly, as any mate would love his other half- naturally, wholly and
completely. Paul hadn't loved any woman before in his life-crushes and
infatuations only, but never loved them as he now did her, his big black
cat. He had always channelled all of his energy into his work and had
rarely dated at all. In fact, the number of intimate partners he had been
with in his thirty-four years, he could count on the fingers of one hand,
without his thumb included in that count.
Paul took a deep breath then and sighed, raising his hands to clap
loudly, which would bring his magnificent black princess instantly back to
total awareness of the present moment, and, with her full alertness. For
several long minutes he held them there at the ready-ready to do just that
as he gazed upon her strikingly jet-black glistening skin one last
time-that beautiful, dark sculptured face and perfect figure. Until
finally, his gaze dropped from her calm and peaceful face to her belly,
below which rested her hands, one resting lightly atop the other as he had
placed it.
His eyes brimmed with unshed tears once again. He would never know
his son, or daughter, whatever gender it turned out to be. His eyes pinched
shut at that thought, causing the release of his watery heartbreaking
sadness. Withdrawing the same handkerchief from his pocket then he wiped
his eyes, face and mouth, knowing he was tasting both their of tears mixed
together within the texture of the soft blue material. He took another deep
breath and sighed, then replaced the handkerchief back in his pocket,
readying his hands once again to bring about the finality of his destiny
found and lost, knowing sadly they would never be together again in their
lives, for the very first time. Paul's mind tried one last and final
desperate time to penetrate the calm exterior of her face and glistening
black forehead and get through to her unconscious mind, knowing that even
if he succeeded it was already too late. He focussed down and deeply until
his surroundings disappeared from his present awareness, and all there
was-all he could feel, was her soul.
"I .. love .. you, .. my .. princess." he said shakily, with a
thick lump instantly lodged in his throat and tears brimming once again
against the shores of his red-rimmed eyes. And then he clapped loudly and
sighed, collapsing against the leather seat-back, his arms falling
lifelessly to his sides on the seat beside him.
He closed his eyes without looking at her, ashamed and ready in his
mind to accept his well-earned and well-deserved fate, as well as the loss
of his heart's black beauty forever and all time. Vivid images then began
to flash through his mind and imagination while he waited for the
inevitable consequences of his actions with her to happen after she opened
her eyes and took stock of herself. He figured she would most probably
piece together what had happened very quickly. His thoughts and images
merged with those of his beloved career lost, his friends gone, the shame
of his parents, as well as his own at what he had done to her.
And throughout all of those thoughts and images, intermingled with
some and then superceding and replacing others, for some strange reason
Paul caught glimpses in his imagination of them both, somewhere in the
future-his black princess and him. But they were not alone. He was hugging
to his chest a small dark-skinned boy with straight hair and deep blue
eyes. He had a handsome face and laughed wildy as Paul spun him around and
around deliberately, just to hear him laugh so gaily. They were playing
while his mother, his black princess looked on, smiling at them both,
laughing at them both-her radiant smile as beautiful and as warmly soft as
the rising and setting sun of Africa joined as one, such was its brilliance
in his mind's eye at that precious moment in time. They seemed so happy in
his mind-so much a part of each others thoughts and feelings-so much a part
of each other's heart. Knowing then the reality was simply yet another
fantasy born of sadness and futility felt his mind and senses go numb.
He was not aware as he sat there opposite her, fantasising, that
the tears of his happy-sad imaginings had streamed silently down his face.
He had been and was still lost to the reality his mind and thoughts and
imagination were presenting to him in full and living colour. Then he
recalled with clarity the reasons for his present dilemma-fantasising,
just like he was doing now. He stopped his thoughts and let his mind go
blank as he drew a deep, shaky breath and sighed, unaware that his tears
continued to flow, long after the images had faded from his mind and ceased
altogether.
Then suddenly, Paul felt something warm touch both his hands. He
flinched, startled momentarily as his red-rimmed eyes snapped open to see
her sitting directly opposite him. Her dark mysterious face deadly serious
as she held his gaze steadily in her own. Then she took both his hands
fully in hers and squeezed them gently, her seriousness vanishing instantly
with the beauty of the soft warm smile that matched the perfection in his
heart and mind of her lovely face.
"I..love .. you, too." sounded hesitantly, but surely into the
world of Paul's previously-into his focussed deafness, then into his
instant, heart-bursting happiness. "I .. love you, too." his black princess
repeated softly, squeezing his hands even more tightly.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The End.
(If you have enjoyed this story as much as I did when creating and writing
it, please email me your comments or criticisms. Thank you - Mesmer)
mesmerr@hotmail.com