Sammy
It was like any other day, really. I had finished up my last four days at work before Christmas, and everyone at home was so excited that I was finally driving there today. I was in my car, relieved for a break but needing to get a few things before the long drive home.
I saw a man walk out of the port with his long black wax coat, hood up; he looked like a religious monk, his big thumb thrust out at the traffic, striding out, looking back at every car that passed him, his large backpack strapped to his back, shepherd’s crook in his hand. As he walked out of the port city, I hoped he would get a ride.
I pulled into the supermarket car park a little way down the road. I did a little late Christmas shopping for the family and had a coffee with a Danish pastry.
Satisfied that the children were adequately covered for gifts, I was ready for the drive. A fine rain started just as I hit the main road out of town.
The sky was getting darker by the minute, and the rain began to pour down,
Traffic had slowed, or I would not have seen him under a bridge, sheltering from the driving rain.
I don’t know what made me do it, perhaps it was the time of year: goodwill to all men and such. I pulled in on the hard shoulder and stopped. I flipped the window switch and shouted, “Where are you going?”
His hood came down, revealing a large, hairless, shaved African man in his 50s, with beautiful white teeth. I asked again, “Where are you travelling to?”
In Spanish, he replied, “I travel to Baza, Madam, if you please.”
He had trusting eyes. “I am Señora Samantha Lopez, Sammy, to my friends.”
He said. “My name is Karzan. I am very pleased to meet with you, Samantha.”
I replied, “I am travelling that way. Get in.”
He smiled and came closer, rain running off of him in small streams.
“Put your wet clothes in the boot, along with your backpack.” I popped the button, and he quickly did as I asked, leaving him in a T-shirt, baggy shorts, and walking boots. As he settled in, I handed him a flannel I keep in the car for the kids. He nodded his thanks. He had a small travel bag over one shoulder. I assumed it was filled with his personal valuables. I surveyed him as he put on his belt. He was pretty fit. I pulled back onto the road, but not before noticing a very impressive lump in his shorts.
His voice was a soft African baritone that sang with calm and gratitude. “Bless you for stopping. This is a bad storm rolling in, one that will cause much damage in more ways than one, I feel.”
We had an introductory chat. I explained that I had been married for over ten years and worked in Almeria city. Karzan told me he lived in Tunisia and worked as a shepherd on the outskirts of Baza town.
I gasped. “My, it must be very lonely out there; it’s just mountains and scrub.”
Karzan replied, “Señor Rodríguez, he gives me a phone to use in case of injury while I am here looking after the sheep, walking around the hills. I have been coming here for thirty-nine years now, first with my father and nowadays on my own.”
We had travelled only fifteen kilometres, just climbing into the mountains, when the heavens opened. I needed some petrol anyway, so I pulled into one of the many garage/rest areas along the highway.
I pulled up at the pump, and the attendant came running out to fill my tank to the top. I handed him the cash and asked about the road conditions to Lorca.
“The roads around Lorca are passable, Señora, but some streets are flooding,”
I turned to my travel companion, a bit cautious about the next news. “Karzan, it looks like we will be taking a little longer here.”
I parked, and we rushed inside the café. I went for a table when Karzan said, “Excuse me, I have to wash before dinner.” He went to the restroom.
I was sipping my coffee when he strode into the restaurant, clean-shaven, rather handsome in red baggy shorts and a yellow Adidas t-shirt. He must have had toiletries in his satchel. He looked a confident 50-plus years as he slipped into the chair across from me.
We sat together, he and I chatting as he drank his tea, and as our tapas arrived, we ate casually to the sound of the unrelenting rain. I texted my husband to let him know the rain was delaying me, but I was safe.
I asked Karzan if he was married.
“No, my wife died in childbirth twenty years ago. I have not bothered to remarry as I spend nine months of the year here in Spain during the lambing and breeding seasons. Not very conducive to a happy marriage.” His smile was sweet and slightly melancholy.
I had to agree with him: nine months of missing all those things that make a happy marriage was not good.
Karzan looked at me right in the eye. “What is it you think constitutes a good, happy marriage, Samantha?”
I paused. “I think it’s companionship, working together to build a happy, stable home. And yes, love between a husband and wife.”
He smiled, and his dark eyes went warmer. “Yes, sex is very important for a marriage and lots of it. Do you not agree, Samantha?”
I blushed bright red as he locked in on my gaze. I coughed softly, my heart skipping. “Yes, Karzan, most important.”
“Samantha, do you have children?”
I regained some composure and proudly replied, “Yes, I have twin boys and twin girls.”
His laugh was delightful. “Oh my word, Samantha, you are blessed. You don’t look old enough to have children.”
I blushed again. “Thank you, you’re too kind.”
“You are young enough to have more big, strong sons, I think.”
I chuckled. “Yes, but I don’t think my husband wants any more children.”
“A shame. I hope he still appreciates your beauty, your desirable charms. I hope he makes love to you many times a week, Samantha.”
I could feel his eyes burning into my soul, seeking the truth, looking at my body slowly stripping away my clothing item by item, in a way only men can do.
If you don’t mind me saying, Samantha, he is a fool if he does not. You are a kind, gentle soul, thoughtful towards others. And with such beauty…very desirable. I see this, Samantha, in just the short time we have been together.
I liked how he said my name. It had a different cadence than my husband’s. It felt lyrical. I shook my head, my long black ponytail waving slowly as I turned my head and looked over at the rain lashing down. “My husband and I have not made love for many weeks now.”
There was silence, and then he reached out and took my small, pale hands in his huge, brown ones.
We had been unaware of people streaming into the tapas bar as the weather worsened.
I needed a drink after feeling Kazan’s flirtatious innuendos flatter my ego. My mind was in its own storm, dizzy just thinking about his words.
I wondered, is it true what they say about African men? I had looked at those shorts, and the bulge was massive.
I looked at Karzan. “Are you permitted to drink alcohol, my friend?”
“Yes, I can, Samantha. I am Christian. One of the reasons I come early to Spain is to celebrate our Lord’s birth, before the lambing season starts, and to go to church and confess my sins, of which there are many!”
We had a glass of red wine as our meat tapas arrived.
His words went over and over inside my head, beautiful, desirable charms. I shivered at recalling him saying I hoped my husband made love to me many times a week and how achingly my need suddenly was. I snapped back to reality as I felt his hand hold mine.
“You look deep in thought.” He leaned closer, his voice a seductive low tone. “You really are so lovely, Sammy. If you don’t mind me saying so, your husband does not know what he has in his arms.”
I gasped and gushed, my panties becoming damp. No, in truth, they were soaking.
I excused myself and nearly rushed to the toilets. I held the counter and looked in the mirror. “What are you doing, Samantha Lopez?”
I soon sat on the toilet, thinking of his eyes as I peed. I felt the wetness of my pussy when I wiped myself clean. There was the telltale sign of my excitement in my red silk panties. The gusset was thick with my juices. My pussy lips hung down with a long ribbon of my clear, thick juices hanging. I was a wreck. I wondered just how big his black cock was, what it would feel like, taste like, would it plunder my pussy, my anus, and my mouth?
I shivered at the lustful thoughts. I whispered out loud, “Stop this silliness. You have a husband and children who depend on you. He is old enough to be your father, a stranger you picked up on the road!”
I walked back to find my wine glass was full once again, and the restaurant was filling up quickly as the storm raged.
I looked up the road; it was now empty of cars, devoid of anyone. I drank my wine and said, “Are you ready to move on, Karzan?”
I think he understood the double meaning and grinned. “I am always ready to move on, Samantha.” He rose and squeezed my hand. “Let’s go, sweet lady.”
I smiled at Karzan getting so familiar with me in the now nearly two hours we had known each other,
We jumped in the car, laughing at the wet. We used the same flannel, and I marvelled at the scent of him on it. We had been driving for forty minutes, with minimal conversation, so that I could concentrate. The temperature started to fall as we passed through Lorca, which was mostly flooded. I thought of my family and Christmas, happy to be focused on something other than this sexy man.
We pressed on to Baza, another 120 kilometres.
The temperature suddenly began to fall, the rain gave way to sleet, and then snow began to fall.
I knew then we were in trouble,
I looked at Karzan, and he was fast asleep beside me, his seat pushed right back, his legs fully extended, and I gasped!
OMG! Mother of mercy! Help me, looking between his legs, his shorts had pulled up, and his semi-hard black cock was slowly peeking from down under the leg of his shorts,
Karzan moved again, as it slipped out another inch or so. I was breathless, panting for that cock! I had the sudden urge to hold it, smother it in wanton pleasure, to lick it to worship a cock that size. I had never seen a black cock, never mind touched one.
I have had the pleasure of only one cock, my husband’s beautiful nine inches, but this was huge. Never had I seen anything like this, and I wanted it. I was lusting after his huge black cock.
A bump in the road awoke Karzan from his slumber.
“What’s the matter, Samantha?”
“Ohh… the conditions are getting bad, Karzan, terrible!” I had to shake that beautiful vision of his big black cock out of my head
“We have snow now, Sammy?” He asked as he sat up.
“Yes, Karzan, so much of it. We are twenty-five kilometres outside of Baza, and the snow is getting too deep to go on. We should never have set out into the rain. I have never seen it so bad, Karzan.”
“I know this area well. Come, we have only one chance! There is a turning on the left, yes, just here up the little road, here right here.” He pointed. “Do you see it?”
“Yes, I see it.”
“There is an old shepherd’s hut with fresh water, warmth, and a few days’ security from the snow.”
“We cannot drive on in this snow, which is getting deeper the higher we go.”
“Sammy, turn left. Now, Sammy.”
“What do you mean? Karzan, a shepherd’s hut?”
“Do you have 4×4 drive capability on this vehicle?”
“Yes, I do.”
“We’re going to need it!”
We turned off the road up a small track, and there it was, a shepherd’s hut. I stopped and took a deep breath.
Karzan said, “I am afraid there will be nothing to eat, Samantha.”
I took the bags out of the back of the car. “We have all the food and drink we require for a few days stuck in the snow, Karzan.”The snow continued to fall all around us, with that silence that only comes with heavy snowfall.
Karzan looked at me. “I have only ever seen snow once before, Sammy, that was when I was a boy with my father many years ago. It’s very cold, yes? Let’s get inside and light a fire.”
It was a simple hut: a large bed on one side; on the other, a stove, a small table, two chairs, and two cups and plates. The sink was clean, and two hurricane lamps hung from the rafters with long leather tethers to bind up sheep.
“The hurricane lamps are full, Sammy,” Karzan said as he lit them. “We have light, we have warmth with the stove, a bed to sleep on, and food to eat.” I will get fresh water. Sammy, can you light the stove and the hearth fire, and start cooking us a fine meal? Also, see if your phone can raise your husband, tell him you are safe from the storm.”
I called my husband and told him I was safe. I also told him I had picked up a passenger, a shepherd, who would have perished in the snow if I had not picked him up. We were held up together in a shepherd’s hut just outside of Baza town until the storm had passed.
My husband was worried about me. “Who is this man? What is his name, Samantha?”
I told him his name is Karzan.
We spoke for ten minutes. He told me the family is safe. Snow was deep at the villa. I was to stay put until it melted and comehome safely for Christmas.
We said our goodbyes, and he told me he loved me dearly.
I lit a fire in the hearth. It added to the hut’s charm. Karzan came through the door with two buckets of ice-cold water, put a large pot of water on the stove, and said it’s for our tea and to wash with before we sleep.
“Samatha, we’re here overnight, perhaps a day or two, who knows.”
It was then that I thought, ” Where do we sleep?
Karzan saw me contemplating our sleeping arrangements when he pulled out two large blankets along with two crisp white sheets from the cupboard.
Making the bed up, Karzan unrolled his sleeping bag, which had been tightly rolled up on top of his backpack. He unzipped it, opened it up, and laid it over the top of the blankets.
“We will at least be warm tonight, Sammy. We will not freeze to death.”
The pot started to boil, and the fire was beginning to take hold in the fireplace as warmth came over this shepherd’s hut. I watched Karzan busy himself putting more wood on the fire.
“Would you like to cook or do you want me to?” he asked.
“I will cook.” There was an old black frying pan hanging up. I took out the potatoes as he made English breakfast tea for us both, then I put the potatoes in the pot and cut up the large chorizo sausage into small pieces. I kept looking at that large bed, thinking we’re going to have to sleep together tonight.
There was a pop, and Karzan opened a bottle of wine from out of my shopping bag and put it on the table,
“It was wise that you did some shopping before the snow came, Sammy. We have fine food and wine for our supper.” He looked out the window. “We might be stuck here for a day or two. Do you want me to put the milk outside in the snow for breakfast and for our tea and coffee, so it stays cold?”
“Yes, please, dear,” I said, then stopped and blushed. dear?’ Where did that come from?
I saw Karzan smile and put the large carton of milk into the snow, which was still falling thick and heavy, and getting deep.
We sat drinking our wine while Karzan wolfed down a basic meal. He sat looking at me.
“A fine dinner, good wine, and a beautiful woman to share it with. That’s all a man can ask for in life.”
I laughed. “It’s hardly a fine dinner, Karzan.”
“It is for me! It’s I who lead the lonely, hard, solitary life of a shepherd with sheep as his only companion. This is wonderful! I am so happy to be snow-bound in this charming hut with you.”
I suddenly felt uncomfortable. “Karzan, where is the toilet?”
“It’s out the back, I will show you.”
Karzan took both lamps. I opened the wooden door. “Follow me, Sammy. Be careful with your footing.”
The snow must have been over two feet thick.
“Here, you take the lamp inside. I will wait here.”
I nodded and went in. When I had finished, Karzan slipped inside. After a time, he came out.
“That’s better now, we can sleep the night away.”
We both cleared up as Karzan put a large pot of water on the stove and built up the fire by adding two big logs.
“It’s going to be cozy and warm in here tonight, Sammy.”
I looked and pointed at the large pot on the stove. “What’s that for?”
“It’s for us to wash in before we go to bed, and maybe you’d like to wash your underwear so it’s nice and clean and fresh for tomorrow. I will wash mine too.”
Karzan pulled down a large tin tub, rigged up a rope line, and threw a blanket over it so there was a blind for our modesty. He offered me a new toothbrush and a long nightshirt from his backpack. I washed my body in the hot water, a strip wash, as my Momma always called it.
I was just soaping up my bottom and my aggravated pussy, when the line broke, and there I was in all my glory, naked in front of Karzan! He was also nude, getting undressed. I looked at his muscular, hard body, then my eyes locked onto that cock! It was huge, hung there almost to his knees, along with his big, fat, heavy balls.
“I am so sorry, Samantha.”
He was trying to tie the rope line up again and hang the blanket up.
I started to laugh, “Oh Karzan, stop it, we’re both naked, and we have seen each other, don’t bother yourself.”
I washed myself so shamelessly in front of him, soaping my breasts, my bottom, and turning my back to him as I washed my smooth pussy. It made me shudder when I passed the cloth over my pussy.
All the time as I washed my body, he sat watching me. His cock began to grow bigger and bigger. My respiration was speeding up.
I washed my panties, hung them over the fireplace to dry, then slipped on Karzan’s nightshirt.
He looked at me, our bodies bathed in firelight. saying
“Oh my god, you’re a Goddess! So beautiful. You also shave your pussy.”
I blushed even more, but did not falter in my response. “Yes, Karzan.”
“Call me Zan, please. All my friends do.”
“Yes, Zan, my husband likes it that way, and I like it that way.”
He stood up. His voice was low and fitted the moment. “As you see, I too am shaven clean.”
His magnificent cock was sticking right up in the air! He slowly walked towards me; it bobbed menacingly.
He took the cloth from my hands and washed his face and hands.
I then watched him unashamedly soap his beautiful black body. He turned his back, bending over, and soaped up his bottom cheeks, then his anus.
I stood spellbound as he soaped up his big, heavy balls that hung down so low, his fingers gently washing them, rolling them between his fingers.
Karzan’s cock throbbed magnificently, his hand smoothly gliding up and down that massive shaft, rubbing it right in front of me, teasing me, turning this way and that, showing himself to me,
I finally gasped, “Ohhhh, Zan, it’s magnificent! I have never seen such a huge penis.”
“Do you wish to help me wash my cock, Samantha?”
I stood up as if in a trance. I took the towel from off the chair and dabbed his wonderful cock so gently dry. My hand and fingers enclosed its girth and gently rubbed it up and down. It was so hard, so thick, I could not close my fingers around his whole throbbing black shaft.
His foreskin slowly slipped back over his mushroom head. As it slivered out, so big, so fat, the first sign of pre-cum slowly oozed out the pee eye. I looked up into Karzan’s smoldering eyes. I felt his power and his dominance fill the hut
“It’s… magnificent, Zan.” My voice was choked with arousal.
“Do you want to kiss it, Sammy?”
“Yesss,” I hissed,
“You want to suck my big black cock don’t you, Sammy?”
I whispered, “Yes, Zan, oh yes. I do, more than anything!” I had not stopped stroking it.
He smiled, and I almost collapsed, “You have lusted for my cock since you first slipped it down and out of my shorts in the car when I was asleep.”
“Oh fuck yes, Zan.”
“Do you think you can suck on all my cock, Sammy?”
“I will try.” I lowered and kissed his mushroom head, licking around the top. I was in utter awe of his cock, the thickness, the length, and the weight of it in my hand. Those big, heavy black balls that hung between his legs, I rolled so gently in the palm of my hand.
His skin was as dark as ebony, and the whiteness of my hand was in stark contrast. As my fingers slipped deftly up and down his beautiful, throbbing cock, my tongue slowly slipped out from between my red lips, swirling around his fat, wet cock head.
I opened my mouth. His cock slipped between my lips, as my tongue lashed his cock head. He moaned as I licked the pre cum that oozed copiously out of his peehole.
I felt his big, heavy hand slipping around the back of my head, gripping my ponytail.
He gasped, “Take it, Sammy, take it all!”
He pushed my head down over the entire length of his cock.
My husband is large, but not this large. Still, all eleven inches of solid throbbing, oozing black cock slid down my drooling throat. His balls gently hit my chin, and he immediately withdrew his cock almost all the way out of my mouth. I took a lungful of air as he pushed it back down my throat. Then he went back in and established a tempo.
“Oh, Sammy, yes, I love fucking your throat and windpipe! I am so deep, baby, so deep. I feel your throat muscles gripping me and your tongue slipping up and down my cock. Nnnghh, it feels so, so good, baby, yes! Suck on my black cock, God yesss, suck me, Sammy!”
I have wanted you, Samantha, from the first time you said Hola to me, no, it was when you drove past me slowly at the port entrance, and I saw you look at me. The rain came, and you took pity on a weary traveller standing in the rain. You picked me up. I knew then I had to have you, to dominate you, to own that beautiful white body so neglected by your husband. I wanted my lovely white Spanish lady.
Ohhh yes, Sammy suck and lick my cock, feed from my cock, and on my pre cum juices.
Ohhh Sammy, yes lick my balls, suck them, worship my body.
I looked up at him on my knees, naked, my face tilted up, my hands behind my back, so so submissive for my older, dominant, black, powerful lover,
Zan was holding his magnificent throbbing cock, slowly rubbing it, squeezing it as I kissed his huge, heavy hanging balls as he gently stroked his cock head all over my face, his pre-cum oozing over my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, and my lips. I suddenly realised he was marking me as his property,
I shivered with the realisation of what he was doing to me. I was utterly submissive to him and his lust.
He looked down at me as he slipped his wet cock over my lips,
There, Sammy, I have painted your sweet, young, beautiful face with my cum juice. You’re mine now. Where I come from, when you paint your woman’s face with your cock juices, you own her for life, you’re mine now,
OMG I whispered.
