Jayne gone wild in Africa 2009 - Sex Stories

Jayne gone wild in Africa 2009

... I pestered her to confirm that she would which didn’t help the mood. It resulted in a “lets wait and see” After we had returned from Banjul in 2011 Jayne visited our health centre to discuss going back on the pill claiming period control. I thought it would raise eyebrows but it was a relatively simple matter and since April 2011 she’s been safely on it. I think we’d both anticipated that she would have additional partners and we even made plans to have Bamba fly to the UK. He made the excuses, not us and although it’s still a potential, we looked for alternatives. The nearest was meeting a black guy from Leeds who met us in a car park at the Designer Outlet. He wasn’t particularly well endowed despite his email claims but he was young and good looking according to her. As it was the first meet there wasn’t going to be any penetration but after the inaugural kissing and groping, he took a “lipstick” blow job to completion from Jayne, promised to contact us again for the ultimate and then disappeared never to be heard of again. Despite my efforts, finding the right type of men for Jayne in the UK has been difficult to say the very least, albeit plenty of time wasters. As the holiday drew closer I took a little sneak preview of some new items in our shared case and was thrilled to find a bag labelled with La Senza. Inside were a new waspie corset, bra and knickers also two packs of stockings. I even went to the extent of investigating her makeup bag to make sure the brighter, ...

... more sensual colours were there. I did admit it to Jayne later. To be honest she left nothing out and catered for all of my whims and eccentricities as will later become apparent. We had to fly to Paris on Saturday, stay over night at Charles de Gaulle then fly early Sunday, Air France to Conakry. It sounded ideal until it became reality. After dropping off the k**s we drove to Manchester airport for the BMI to Paris. A short delay had us on our way but once at CDG trouble hit. The place is colossal and the French are largely ignorant so making our way throughout was difficult and annoying. We got lost on the rail system but eventually we arrived at the most basic room to discover there wasn’t a restaurant. Then after a tenuous late tea and a couple of beers we discovered that the flight, the following morning to Conakry was delayed for three hours. It wasn’t the best start and I felt that if anything could go wrong, it would, simply to thwart our plans. Despite everything we made the best of it and I tried very hard to avoid any overpowering interrogation of what Jayne might or might not do. As it was, just as we we’re settling down to sl**p with the sound of traffic and jets roaring in the back ground she snuggled up to me and said with her eyes shut, “Never mind… we’ll be there this time tomorrow and you can amuse yourself by finding me a hunky black guy” I didn’t sl**p well although Jayne did. Predictably the trip via the rail network was as fraught as the day before with ...