ALL THE STORIES HERE ARE FICTION, UNLESS OTHERWISE NOTED. THIS SITE DOES NOT CONDONE UNDER AGE SEX OR CRIMINAL ACTS IN REAL LIFE. You must be 18 or over to read this story. This story is provided for entertainment purposes only. The author does not condone any sexual activity with persons under 18 in real life, and none of the characters in this story are under the age of 18.
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I'm Sara, nineteen years old, just out of a three-year relationship with a boyfriend who was nice until he wasn't. I decided to take a year off college and do that crazy trip. I went solo and landed in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso's capital city. By the way, I'm from Marseilles. This is one of the reasons I chose that country; I speak its official language. Voilà!
Another reason I chose Burkina Faso is a bit cliché. I've always fantasised about some remote place where I'd get gang-fucked by African men. Cliché, yes, but that's just me and my good luck!
I'm vaginal a hundred percent. You bang me like an alpha gorilla and last long enough? I'll cum and let you know we'll get along fine! I'm not that complicated to live with.
From Ouagadougou, I took the bus on bumpy roads and was initiated to the African massage. There's bumpy and then, there's your-intestines-want-to-come-out-of-your-mouth bumpy. That's the African massage.
There was dust, more dust and always more of it as I wandered further north toward Mali. My hair had been redone and cut just low enough to brush my shoulders. I wore a safari hat with a large, shady brim and glasses that made me look like a girl who got directly pulled from a library in France to Africa.
Dust permeated everything. My skin got dry. I soon felt dry everywhere; everywhere, except between my legs. All men on that bus kept staring at me. I was the only white girl and my blonde hair was a magnet for them. Women sometimes threw me stares loaded with hatred.
I was wearing a short skirt with a safari shirt. That sand-coloured outfit hugged my perky assets and showcased my petite legs. Their gazes lingered on me like the dust and heat. Travel is long; everything takes time in Africa. All this time, I had to resist the urge of masturbating. I couldn't wait to be at the youth hostel.
Once finally there, I rushed to my room, only to find another girl there; she had the other bunk. She introduced herself as Klara, speaking with a heavy German accent. She was from Zermatt in Switzerland.
"I'm Sara. Nice to meet you," I let fall before dropping on my bunk, exhausted and covered with sweat and dust. I'd wash tomorrow. I barely had energy to take off my short boots and immediately fell asleep.
Next morning, Klara greeted me with an amused smile as I woke up. She said I spoke during my sleep; I spoke about myself getting into a compromising situation somewhere remote, alone with black men.
I blushed as she spoke; she must have heard me when I masturbated upon waking up toward dawn. These German-speaking girls can be so direct! I decided to be blunt and told her about the road trip I had in mind. She'd been here for a while. Did she know a trustworthy guide?
She looked at me with concern in her expression, yet there were notes of growing fascination in her cornflower-blue eyes. It suddenly hit me that she looked remarkably like Grand Duchess Olga Romanov; fair skin, light-brown hair. The idea of such an aristocratic-looking girl getting gang-fucked along with me. It really turned me on! Would she join me?
She answered laconically, "Ich habe Kondome." (I got condoms.)
Klara fast-tracked my guilty project. She introduced me to Ousmane, a six-foot tall wonder of nature who looked like he could dance for girls in a club. He knew some soldiers who, he said, were trustworthy. From the casual way he spoke, I could tell he'd done that before. His coolness and self-confidence aroused me. I loved the way he always looked at me in the eyes, never letting his gaze wander south. He seemed nice. He asked for a fee.
As the big day drew near, I grew worried. What if these military men brought too many friends with them and captured us for real? There was a definite element of danger, but this took the level of excitement to the stratosphere! The night before, I just couldn't sleep. Neither did Klara.
As we packed our backpacks with food and other necessities, Klara balked. She suddenly wanted out. Ousmane and I talked to her, but it was to no avail; she wasn't coming. As I left, I kissed her and told her to contact the French embassy if I wasn't back by tomorrow evening. She gave me her box of extra-large condoms.
I hopped in Ousmane's beat-up four-by-four jeep, and off we went on bumpy trails in the desertic countryside near Mali. I was lost in a world of sunbaked rocks and dust. I couldn't wait to meet Ousmane's friends, but I grew a bit scared, knowing I would be at their mercy. I was crazy! But what a rush! I was soaking wet as the bumps in the road kept banging my buttocks.
Three men in camouflage fatigues stood like three shadows in a yellow horizon of sand and dust, like djinns bringing fate. As we drew close and Ousmane stopped the jeep, I noticed a fourth man. There were five of them counting Ousmane; it was a given that Ousmane would partake. He alone made the trip worthwile.
I stepped out of the dusty jeep, threading the sand in the middle of nowhere as the four armed men walked to greet me. They were smiling, their teeth white under the sun amid their sweaty faces that offered dark chocolate to my cliché-filled fantasies. I wanted them to grab me and do as they please with me! I wanted it so much! I had dreamed of this so many times!
The first man who greeted me spoke in flawless French. He had a rank insignia on his sleeve and introduced himself as Ibrahim. He smiled with joy in his dark eyes. He approached me, dominating me with his extra-tall frame. I didn't recoil; I accepted him, feeling his overwhelming closeness.
He stooped down and gently kissed me. I touched his forearm and felt his muscles. I was melting!
My hands went up to get acquainted with his shoulders; I ran them on his chest, feeling it through his orange-khaki uniform, silently worshipping his beauty. His large hands respectfully hugged my waist and seemed to be waiting a signal from me; or else he was just very experienced and knew I was dying for his touch elsewhere.
The other men were watching. Strong hands began massaging my buttocks. That man said he had been masturbating over me like crazy; it was Ousmane.
I wanted to ask them to undress me, but I let silence speak. I undid the buttons of Ibrahim's uniform and he took it as my signal. With his powerful hands, he unzipped my safari shirt and opened it on my flexible sports bra. I cast my head back, offering him a perfect view on my modest hills. I felt all their gazes on my thinly covered boobs and it was wonderful!
They all grabbed me! This was the big moment I had been waiting for. I kicked off my ankle-short boots. They were easy to take off and I absolutely wanted to get gang-fucked with my bare feet in the dust.
Ibrahim took the hem of my white bra and pushed it up. The African sun directly hit my pale tits and several dark hands immediately touched and fondled them with surprising gentleness. Oh my!
It was all so simple; their hands on me; hands that now lowered my skirt, then my panties; Ousmane's grunts as he began to rub something hot and throbbing on my butt. His dick!
I quickly turned around and knelt in front of Ousmane. I took him in my mouth and pleasured him while the others knelt behind and beside me, running their hands and kissing me all over my body, from my blonde hair down to my little feet, as I coated Ousmane with my spit and made him happy.
I let Ibrahim lay me down on the dust. He had stripped himself out of his Burkinabé uniform. He laid down on top of me as I opened my legs wide for him. He overwhelmed me with his pungent musk and with his height and size as he forcefully penetrated me.
"Oh, yes! Yes!" I screamed as he began to pound me. His size stretched me and made me feel lucky.
I wrapped my legs around him and crossed my ankles on top of him, feeling the African dust on the soles of my feet.
He held nothing back. He banged me with relentless abandon, just like I wanted. Oh, God! It felt so good! He was so hard and strong!
"Oh, Ibrahim! Fuck me! Fuck me! Yes! Yes! Yes!"
He accelerated his pace to a frenzy, with sweat beads on his dark forehead, sweating on my glasses as he savagely fucked me, his mouth wide open, drooling and grunting. I felt proud to please him so much.
The gigantic surge I was hoping for gathered within me like a perfect storm as he kept up his barrage of urgent thrusts. I was moaning like crazy, suddenly realising I had forgotten about Klara's condoms as I suddenly lost control and screamed my bliss in his arms!
Just as I was orgasming, Ibrahim roared his hot breath into my face and exploded, filling me up with his cream as he shouted, "Oh yes! The white girl! The white girl! Take this, aaarrh, nyaahh!"
He warmly kissed me. He then slowly got up, leaving me panting and covered with sweat.
My field of vision was obscured with a tall shadow. Ousmane was smiling wide above me, dominating me like in my wildest dreams. I propped my legs up and offered him the show of my feet, with dust on their soles.
He was already naked, his dick ready for me. He got down on his knees and pinned me under him, with my legs stuck under his muscular shoulders and my feet pointing up in the air. He swiftly got inside me and banged me even more powerfully than Ibrahim. What a stud!
I had no idea I could cum so strongly under a man. What a fucking thrashing he gave me! I exploded under his war-tribe victory and howled like a she-wolf, making them laugh as Ousmane screamed, "Aaahh! Sara!" He shot a huge load.
The three remaining men grabbed me and flipped me over. They positioned me on all fours.
The first one was thin and tall; he had wiry strength and urgently fucked me from behind, with incredibly fast strokes, forcing loud whimpers out of me as my buttocks constantly collided with him.
My head was a blur. I was utterly shaken and moaned under fires of pleasure as he screamed and stuffed me with his load.
The last men also took me doggystyle. The first one grabbed my wrists and pulled my arms for added leverage as he fucked me with long, heavy strokes until he came.
The last one said he loved my butt and I was his first white girl as he banged me. As he shot his load, I found myself looking at the dusty horizon and wishing for a truck full of soldiers who would pull me into a bukake. I was thirsty for Burkinabé cum.
Later, I sucked them all off. They splattered their loads all over my face and left their slimy goo on my glasses.
They banged me like a dirty white slut for the next twenty-four hours, making the most of their time with me. I loved every second of it. They were so nice!
We did it again the following week. This time, Klara was there.
Such was the highlight of my trip in Burkina Faso. A bit cliché, but that's just me and my good luck.
« Last Edit: July 15, 2023, 10:56:11 AM by HistBuff »
My fantasies have many lights and shadows.