Black Pearl
Black Pearl
A true story from the life of a pilot, my very best friend
Although it's believed that pilots rake in big money for their work here, that's not entirely true. Otherwise, would I have hired on with a private company that had contracted to transport cargo and people in distant Angola? This was about 18 years ago, but I remember everything perfectly and will try to put down on paper all that happened to me during the six months I spent there.
I signed up through a friend for six months, although I never thought before that at nearly forty-five, I'd end up in the heart of Africa. We flew with connections for quite a long time, but,
in the end, closer to evening, we landed at Luanda airport. Our small group was met and immediately taken to a rather upscale district of the city where a hotel had been built. The heat was indescribable, especially for us – setting foot on African soil for the first time. I was housed together with the co-pilot and flight engineer – good guys I knew from working at Boryspil. The air conditioner installed in the room creaked and coughed horribly, barely coping with the insane heat.As it turned out, no one here was planning to pay decent money just like that. In the very first week, they loaded us with cargo—wounded natives, crates of ammunition, and even a few surface-to-air missiles, which were dumped haphazardly right onto the aircraft floor. The old An-26 groaned, taking off over the sultry haze of sun-scorched land, and it seemed it would fall apart any moment before reaching the destination. But it was fine, we managed. Then there were simpler cargoes: food, equipment, and dark-skinned passengers, whom we packed into the belly of the plane to the brim – for an extra fee, naturally. Once we even came under fire, but either the shooters were lousy or we just got lucky – everyone survived.
After a week, everything settled into a routine – a person gets used to anything. But as for female company – problems arose there. Among our service staff were a couple of women from back home, but both were older and not particularly beautiful. The black women didn't tempt me at all. Although...
Around the ninth day of my stay on this land, an incident occurred that served as the beginning of relations with local beauties. I was resting after a night flight, stripped naked, trying to sleep under a damp sheet. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. The guys had gone about their business and were supposed to return soon, but they had a key with them, so it wasn't them. I was too lazy to get up, and I lay there, hoping the knocker would leave. But no. The knock repeated and was more insistent than before. Grumbling with displeasure, I got up, wrapped myself in the sheet, and went to open it.
On the threshold stood a young, pretty black girl, dressed in a short dress resembling a sundress. A small backpack hung on her thin shoulder, which she held with her hand. She smiled welcomingly, revealing two rows of snow-white teeth, and stepped forward.
— What do you want? — I was taken aback, and in Russian at that.
She most likely didn't understand anything and, smiling again, entered the room. I had to step aside. In doing so, the sheet almost fell to the floor. I caught it, barely covering my nakedness. The little girl watched my actions with unconcealed interest, the whites of her large, sly eyes gleaming.
— What's the problem? — I tried again to find out the reason for her appearance.
— No problem, — she shook her head, obviously understanding the last word.
Then she started chattering something in her language, waving her hands, and now I didn't understand anything. The only thing I made out was the word twenty and dollar. The last thing I needed was a beggar. I had already decided to get rid of her quickly, but before I could say a word, she, pulling the backpack off her shoulder, tugged on some cord and the dress rustled softly down to her feet. I stared dumbfounded at the naked little girl. A sweet ache stirred low in my belly.
Her shapely figure was as if carved from ebony and resembled the one I had recently bought from some trader, only it was life-sized and alive. Her dark brown skin had a matte sheen in the rays of sun filtering through the curtains. Not embarrassed in the least, the little girl froze before me, giving me the opportunity to admire all the curves of her young, flexible body. Her full breasts with dark nipples trembled slightly with each breath, the curly little triangle below her belly promised incomparable bliss.
As if enchanted, I stepped towards her, reaching out my hands, intending to take this wonderful fruit. In doing so, the sheet fell to the floor again, but I didn't even notice. However, the black girl turned out to be not so simple.
— Money, money, — she shouted, jumping aside, and stretched out her hand, demonstrating the characteristic gesture.
At that moment, I was seized by such desire that I was ready to give everything in the world. Thrusting my hand into the jeans hanging on the back of the chair, I fished out the first bill I found from the pocket, which turned out to be a 50-dollar one, and handed it to her. Nimble brown fingers quickly snatched it, stuffed it into the backpack. After that, she smiled joyfully and climbed onto the bed. Chocolate buttocks swayed invitingly, revealing bright pink flesh in a dark brown frame. I followed her, dreaming of enjoying the body of the little whore. Shooting a glance with her eyes, she turned around and sat down in front of me, tucking her legs under herself.
Without thinking long, I thrust my erect member into her thick, half-open lips. The little devil took it as a given and instantly sucked it in, skillfully working her mouth. Smacking and squealing with visible pleasure, she licked the entire shaft with a large pink tongue and swallowed my cock again with her wide-open mouth. Her pretty little face became focused, the pace of her movements quickened, and I, starved for female affection, couldn't hold back. Grabbing her head with my hands, I drove my member all the way to her throat and released inside a copious stream of accumulated semen. She coughed, grimaced, but conscientiously took my nectar into herself, pulled away, smearing the tears that had welled up in her eyes across her dark little face.
I liked it. Getting off the bed, I padded to the shower with the intention of freshening up a bit and expecting a continuation. Imagine my surprise when I saw the dark-skinned little girl heading for the exit.
— Hey, where are you going? — I tried to stop her, forgetting that she didn't understand Russian.
— Good, good, — a smile lit up her face, but my shout didn't stop her.
Picking up the backpack from the floor, she slipped out the door. It was a pity that I never got to her ebony body. The only consolation was a tiny black pearl lying on the bed. A thin thread was passed through it, which was broken. Most likely, this pearl served as an ornament for my guest.
A little later, I learned that dark-skinned "lolitas" often visit the rooms and their services cost significantly less. Who knew?
Several days passed. We were moved to a more comfortable room where the air conditioner worked normally. But still, getting used to such heat was not easy. Fortunately, just a couple of hundred meters outside the windows, the Atlantic Ocean splashed. After flights, we often enjoyed its more or less cool waters. After the first experience of communicating with black "pearls," I became more and more imbued with the thought that it should be continued. But, as luck would have it, nothing suitable appeared on the horizon. Besides, there was a lot of work, everyone was tired, and there was no time for entertainment.
But soon such an opportunity presented itself. It was on a day off – the first in the past two weeks. The guys and I went to the beach, sunbathed, swam to our heart's content, and then they decided to take a little walk, and I stayed. Just nearby, two dark-skinned girls were splashing in the water, who sparked interest. Both were young, although I wouldn't dare to determine their age precisely. Noticing that I was looking at them, the little girls moved their mat, woven from palm leaves, closer and, no longer embarrassed, began making funny faces at me. What could interest them about a forty-five-year-old pale-faced European? Money, of course. Although, after the first case, I decided to be more careful, at least not to throw around money that I hadn't really earned yet. But I still wanted to fuck a real African girl.
Under their inquisitive, laughing gazes, I went for a swim. I swam for about fifteen minutes, trying to cool down, and then came out of the water and, taking money, went for beer. It was sold nearby by a local native. Grabbing a couple of cans, I returned to the spot, where I was met by the loud, ringing laughter of the little girls. What are they so high about? Unable to bear it, I moved closer to them and tried with gestures and facial expressions to find out the reason for their merriment. One of them, who was slightly older, with the same gestures made it clear that they were interested in why my member shrinks after swimming, that it's barely visible under the swim trunks, and when I dry off, it grows so much that it almost tears them.
— Want to see what it's really like? — I asked in Russian, hoping they would understand something.
They both giggled again, nodded their curly heads, and one, smoothing the sand with her palm, began to draw some scribbles on it with her finger. $50 — I barely made out. The older one again stretched her mouth into a smile and made the characteristic gesture with her fingers, rubbing them together.
— No, no, — I waved my hands, realizing what they were offering.
Although…, if for two… I had never done that before, naturally, back home. Fighting temptation, I erased the dollar sign and, adding one zero, said I agreed, but only for five hundred kwanzas (kwanzas — the local currency, where one hundred dollars equaled a whole kilogram of these kwanzas). The smile immediately vanished from the black-faced little faces. Both girls pouted their lips and shook their heads like Chinese bobbleheads.
— Well, as you wish, — I shrugged and, resolutely getting up, began to gather my simple things.
The southern dark-skinned charmers also got up, looking at the unyielding European with a clearly discernible reproach. Keeping up appearances, I leisurely gathered my things, opened one of the beer cans, took a hefty gulp. No reaction. Placing the second can on the sand and nodding to the little girls, I headed for the hotel. Right at the entrance, the older one caught up with me. Hesitantly tugging at the sleeve of my T-shirt, making a grimace on her pretty face, she chattered something in her own language. Most likely, she agreed to my offer. A couple of minutes later we were in the room.
Sending her to the shower, I sat down on the sofa. I didn't have to wait long. She came out of the shower completely naked, droplets of water glistening on her satiny skin. Now I got a better look at her. Black curly hair, dark eyes, a slightly flattened nose, and large pink lips, behind which snow-white, even teeth gleamed. Breasts slightly too large for her body bounced springily with each step. She crossed the room and stopped in front of me, slightly spreading her slender legs, between which curled a small, blue-black triangle.
I caught her by the hand, pulling her towards me, but she immediately twisted free, swaying her breasts, and thrust out a pink palm. A twenty-dollar bill green – I didn't have anything smaller – prompted her to further action. Kneeling between my legs, she pulled off my shorts and, catching my already erect member with her palm, put her thick-lipped mouth on it. A wave of voluptuousness spread through my body. Within a minute, my member was ringing with tension and I, pulling the little girl off it, sat her on my lap. And suddenly a belated thought flashed that I had forgotten to put on a condom. My gaze darted around the room. Just yesterday I had taken a whole pack out of my bag. She quickly figured out what I was looking for.
— Speed – no, no, — she chattered, poking her finger at her chest.
Most likely, it was too big for her. Playing with her bouncing breasts with my tongue, I was catching a real high, invading the resilient body of the black girl. Finally, I experienced a real African woman, although, honestly, apart from skin color, she didn't differ from our women in anything special. Half-closing her roguish eyes, she truly surrendered to the passion growing in her body, increasingly picking up the pace and squealing with pleasure.
At the most crucial moment, when I was already beginning to approach the peak of pleasure, the room door opened, and my friends walked in, discussing something animatedly on the go. For just a moment I noticed confusion and surprise on their faces, but then, nodding to my guest, they both walked through the room and went out onto the terrace. My dark-skinned rider took their appearance quite calmly, but I twitched, feeling discomfort in our coupling, and my ardor suddenly began to wane on its own. They had to show up at the most inopportune moment! The little girl squirmed on me for another couple of minutes, but, convinced of the futility of her attempts, shrugged her shoulders and, sliding off the deflated member, sat down next to me. I even felt a little sorry for her, although for myself – even more.
Through the large, wall-sized window, I could see my comrades, who continued to smoke, seemingly paying no attention to us. I stroked the little girl's curly head, calming her, but she took my affection in her own way. Dark fingers closed around my member and began moving intensely, trying to revive it to life. Obviously, she thought she hadn't fully earned the money received. Moving to the floor, she took my member in her mouth and slowly drew it into herself. Gradually it began to come alive and I enjoyed the touch of her warm tongue on it.
— No, no. — the girl wiggled her behind.
Victor immediately figured out how to behave. He slipped a 100-kwanza note into her palm, with such an air as if he had dropped a coin into a slot machine. The little girl calmed down and bent over my member again.
— You won't mind? — Vitya addressed me, positioning himself behind the black girl's protruding rear.
Without waiting for an answer, he freed his erect member from his shorts and in one motion entered her, pushing it into the narrow hole. The little girl only squealed, twisted her butt, adjusting to him. Panting from the strain, Victor came very quickly, clutching her chocolate thighs and literally lifting her off the floor in the process. Through the glass, I saw with what interest the flight engineer Petya was watching us.
His right hand was stroking the noticeable bulge under his shorts. He surely wanted to take advantage of the moment too, but didn't have time. Pressing the curly head to my crotch, I also came, filling the hot mouth of the little girl with a thick stream of sperm. She conscientiously waited, without looking away, watched me, rolling the whites of her black eyes. When it was all over, she gathered her clothes from the floor and disappeared into the bathroom. Within a couple of minutes, making a pretty face in a smile, she left the room.
The next morning, wandering around the market, I unexpectedly saw on one of the open stalls exactly the same pearl that I had gotten by chance from the first little girl. Without thinking, I immediately bought it literally for pennies, and it took its place next to the first one.
Time flew quickly. Six months passed in an instant. Leaving the African continent, I felt with no small pride the weight of a whole necklace of black pearls around my neck.
SAS