I have a prodigious passion for African women. I love their style and elegance, but above all else I yearn for their beautiful black bodies. They are so eminently gorgeous and sexual that my cock stiffens whenever I see them in the street or imagine them in my mind.
My sexual appreciation of African womanhood began at the age of eighteen. I had gone to stay with Aunty Sarah in Lagos, Nigeria, while my mother was attending a business conference in Kenya. Aunty Sarah was not my real aunt, but I'd always known her by that name. She and my mother had been at university together in England, and had remained close friends throughout their lives. Aunty Sarah was divorced, thirty-nine, generous hips and breasts, lovely face and a very welcoming personality. Her home was large and sumptuous, with numerous bedrooms and eight servants.
On my first day I rose early, showered and went downstairs to hunt for some food. I found the kitchen and the cook provided me with an excellent breakfast. Just as I was clearing my plate the intercom buzzed. The cook answered it and then informed me that Mrs Makeba β Aunty Sarah - would like to see me in her room. I was escorted upstairs by Molly, one of the maids, and led along several thickly carpeted corridors. We reached the room, the maid knocked, and we were bidden to enter.
Aunty Sarah was sitting up in bed suckling her infant daughter.
"Ah, Peter, come in, come in." She said, with kindly authority. "You've caught little Elizabeth at her breakfast. Molly, please take this greedy little girl to the nursery, she's had enough for now."
"Now Peter, take off your shoes and come and sit beside me while we discuss your itinerary for the day."
I was rather embarrassed at this injunction, but felt excited and aroused at the sight of Aunty Sarah's large naked breasts, and as I walked to the bed my penis began to swell within my cotton shorts.
She noticed. "Oh, I'm sorry, Peter. I still think of you as a baby. Give me a minute to get dressed and then we can have a chat in the drawing room."