His Former Househelp

The young girl got onto the bus in Nyabugogo Bus Terminus in Kigali, her heart trembling with anxiety. She had never been to Kigali before, yet here she was about to start on a journey that would take her through three countries, ending in a place she had been told was called Nairobi. Everything she had heard of it spoke of a big, scary city, so many people, a foreign language, foreign food; everything was going to be new to her. The only person that she knew in that place was the woman who had been her Sunday School teacher nearly ten years before.

Some two years earlier there had been a huge event that had pulled people from all the nearby ridges to witness. It was the wedding of Florence her teacher, to a man from Kenya, a place very few had ever heard of before. The most amazing thing to her eyes was the huge amount of food served at the reception unlike the customary wedding receptions witnessed in that area. It had left a lasting impression on all who had attended. She heard her mother discussing it with her friends for days afterwards. She heard them saying that Florence's parents had immediately occupied a special place in their society. Nobody else had a daughter married so far away in country that they could only dream about. The home came to be known as 'Kenya'.

Some months later she heard that Florence and her new husband had left to return to his home in Nairobi. Nobody had any idea what that country was like, or how far it was; some said it took nearly two days of travel. As far as young Francoise was concerned, that was the last she expected to hear of her former Sunday School teacher.

Bu in fact it was not a year later that Florence had contacted her mother, about getting a house help now that she had a young baby and needed to keep working at her business. Her mother, instead of looking around, had immediately volunteered her before even asking her opinion. She was full of ambitious ideas for her daughter in that far country, as if she was sure the girl would one day return from Nairobi with lots of wealth.

Young Francoise now sat at her window seat pondering these things as departure time neared. Her passport was so new, having only recently attained the age that allowed her to be taken as an adult in her own right. She would dearly love to fulfil her mother's fantasises, but she could see the huge obstacle of learning a new language before she could begin understanding anything about that society. She was full of fear that unlike her Sunday school teacher, who had married at home before going off to live in a foreign land, she would find life so tough, fail to fit in and be forced to return home in disgrace. Her whole body cringed at the thought of trying to live down a reputation of one who had been given opportunities and failed. How would she live in her own home, knowing that people were talking behind her back?

The bus journey was a complete blur to her. She did get off with the other passengers at the Uganda/Rwanda border to present her passport, took a soda in Kampala (the midpoint of their journey), and a few hours later did the border crossing from Uganda into Kenya. At this point they had been on the move for almost a day. It was nighttime when they reached this border. She wondered how much longer it was all going to last. Her body cried out in weariness. She felt naked and vulnerable. The languages being spoken around her were new, the shops they passed were so different from anything she had ever seen. Only a couple sitting two rows in front were speaking in Kinyarwanda made her feel as if there was at least a connection with anything she had known in her former life. Some were speaking what she was sure was English, but spoke so fast that she could not catch even a single word. Her stomach was so unsettled that she could only take a soda. Then they were herded back into the bus and they were now in Kenya. The journey took them through many towns bigger than any she had known back home.

Finally, with the shadows showing it to be some time in the afternoon, the conductor told her in Kinyarwanda that she was near her destination. That was the first she knew of the fact that she was not going into the big city of her dreams. The bus stopped and the conductor helped her take her bags down. Her heart was beating wildly. Would her teacher know where she had been put down? What if it was the wrong bus stop? How would she find her way without the language? Would she ever see her mother and siblings again?

As she collected her baggage around her she heard what must have been the most welcome sound of her entire life. "Welcome to Kinoo, Francoise!" in her own language. She recognised her teacher's voice even before looking up. She turned and embraced her like a long lost relative, which only a minute before she feared she herself might become.

"Thank you so much!" They clutched at each other for a long moment before Francoise noticed a tall man standing to one side looking at them.

"Meet my husband," said Florence. The young girl went to give him the hug that was customary back home, then hung back thinking it was perhaps not the done thing. But he put her completely at her ease by bringing her into his embrace just as if she were still at home. She would later learn that it was not at all customary here. She would observe that people passed each other, with merely a word thrown and responded to without anyone stopping to greet each other properly.

"Put the bags into the boot," he said, picking up the nearest. "This taxi will take us home."

When they arrived at the gate the car stopped, to allow the husband to open the portal. Francoise was amazed at the stone wall seeming to go on for a long way in both directions. The gate swung open, letting the car through. They all three carried the bags into the house.

"Will I be living in this large house now?" she wondered to herself. "How lucky Florence must be!"

Her new mother (for that is how she decided to think of Florence) showed her to her room. "I am going to be sleeping in my own room," she marveled. Then her mistress showed her to the bathroom to wash off the dust of the long journey. After coming from the bathroom all the weariness of travelling for 24 hours from Kigali descended upon her making her feel like a heap of manure. Even though it was only afternoon, she only desired to sleep, but her mistress wanted her to eat something, despite feeling her stomach still unsettled. The only thing she recognised was ground-peanut sauce poured on the boiled bananas. The other items were unfamiliar, but she tried to have a bite of each, exploring the taste.

During the following week she got to hold a month-old baby for the first time in her life, and learnt that her 'mother' had a peanut butter business. She was familiar with peanuts but had never been exposed to the making of butter from them.

In the weeks following she got into the rhythm of the household. Cooking, cleaning and washing became second nature to her. So too did feeding the baby, washing him and his clothes separate from others. She even got to befriend the older woman who was mother in law to her employer.

Never having been near a man before she found it unusual that Dennis could demand anything from her, whether it was a glass of water, to brush his shoes, or to serve him lunch during the day. For he had his office in the study of his house. While Florence went out in the morning and only popped in to suckle the baby, he was in the house all day, except for when he left to go to town, which was a very rare event. When he did, she felt the house became too quiet and empty.

On most days he woke up, went to the toilet then took a bath. Then he came into the dining room for his breakfast. After that he went into his study and stayed behind that door until eleven when he went out into the sunshine (if it was a warm day) citing cold feet. Then he would take a cup of tea with a light snack, before withdrawing back into his study. Francoise learnt that he traded foreign currencies on his computer, but she had no clue what that meant. Trading was what his wife did, for she would learn when her boss went to buy her peanuts, when she took them to the mill to be made into peanut butter, or when she took them for roasting. She saw Florence packing them into plastic containers for customers. That made sense to her because it was visible. But what that man did was not trading to her, as she never saw him with any of his trade goods in his hands.

The afternoons after lunch, she usually had most of her chores done, so after putting the baby to sleep, she could be found on light duties of ironing and folding the clothes that she had washed the previous day, and if there were none she took a short rest. This was the hour in which she took her daily bath, changed clothes after having oiled her body with a strong-smelling perfume. Dennis on the other hand, would read the newspaper in the sitting room, or sometimes a book. She saw more of him than in the mornings. He made more of his demands on her then. He found her more alluring in her clean clothes and smooth shiny legs. Sometimes as she fed the baby his milk, her legs would part a little, affording him a peek of her young thighs as he read. Much as he was sure she was not aware that she was showing him her goodies, it crept into his mind to take advantage of her naïveté, while they were all alone in the house.

As her grasp of the language improved he could see that she now understood more of what he said to her. One day he asked her into the study to show her some pictures. She was astonished to see her own face on the screen of his computer. She saw many other people she knew back in the village.

"These were taken during the wedding. Do you remember it?" he asked her.

"Oh, wow! I can see my mother, aunts and even neighbours here. It makes me feel almost at home."

Then he threw her completely off her balance by starting what she realised was a video of the same event. Except when she had spoken her mother tongue with Florence, she had not heard it anywhere else, but now here she heard it spoken by many people as the event went on. She was almost jumping up and down with excitement.

"I had never noticed you when I had watched this video until now," he said while snaking his arm around her waist. She flinched, like she would run away but did not, taken completely by surprise. "You have become very good-looking." He caressed her waist region and moved towards her bum.

"Please don't do that. What if your wife found us?"

He handed her his phone. "Call her if you want her to see. She is very busy at her work right now."

"It is not right!" She was wriggling, but only halfheartedly.

Using his mouse hand he brought the whole arm to her shoulder and gently bent her so that he could kiss her. As soon as he did stars exploded all around her and she slumped forward. Skillfully he turned her to sit on his lap, his hands quickly going to her breasts. They were so soft that he wondered if she really had any. He palmed each, discovering the she was wearing a vest inside rather than a bra. So he could punch each nipple through her garments, drawing a pained cry from her. The arm across her back pulled her closer to him; she came willingly to lie against his chest, her head on the side of his.

Her tits were small, but it puzzled him that they were flat on her chest, as if she had suckled loads of infants. But he remembered his wife asking her if she had married or had a boyfriend. She had replied that she had been kept very busy on her mother's farmland. The work never seemed to lighten whatever time of the year. Dennis could not understand how such virgin breasts had lost all their padding like a deflated balloon.

Still, they seemed to give her pleasure when he played with them.

Moving her slightly away, he could lower his mouth to her tit and bite it between his lips. She yelled. "Oh mama yoyo!" But her hand went behind his head and held him to her chest. He caught a whiff of her arousal as she squirmed on his lap. When trapped her nipple between his lips and released it she suddenly stiffened, the pressure on the back of his head became insistent, then just as suddenly her muscles loosened so that she almost fell back onto his chest. She was panting like a racehorse. He held her by the waist tenderly as she regained her composure.

"Was that good?"

"I do not know. I thought it was no longer my body. It was beyond description."

This scene was repeated in the weeks after this, but she never seemed to lose her fear of her mistress finding out that he did these wonderful things to her body. She was torn between wanting to go on enjoying being touched and brought to such heights of pleasure, and stopping the whole thing before he had full-blown sex with her. 'What if I became pregnant with him,' she thought with horror.

As if Florence was aware of these thoughts, she began to ask her to come for an hour to the shop while the baby slept. This had the power to pull her in different directions at the same time. She would want to be at home so that Dennis would touch her and give her intense pleasure. But she was glad her mistress had removed her from the danger of being taken into bed by her husband, although she was sure Florence did not know that anything had happened between them.

At night on her bed she relived the last time that Dennis had taken her to the seventh heaven with his fingers and mouth, longing for the next time. But in the light of day, she hoped that Florence would want her at the shop. When she did not, she fell into Dennis' arms willingly to get her shot of delirious pleasure. She felt sure it was only a matter of time before he took off all her clothes and fucked her. The thought gave her a thrill of dread at the same time as a longing.

*******************

Dennis held his cock by his right hand and vibrated it over Francoise's lips. He had taught her to take him in her mouth while she still worked for them. Gone was the thin girl with browning hair who had arrived on a long-distance bus years ago. She was now a woman of mature body, well filled-out in all the right places. Her tummy hung over her belt, her breasts had filled out, a far cry from the tiny, shrivelled bags he had found when he first undressed her and hips had filled out. This he found very odd; whereas he expected young tits to be full and firm, and older ones to hang rather loose, Francoise had gone the other way. She was a thoroughly desirable woman; almost unrecognisable by those she had left at home.

In the little over two years since she had left their employ to marry the man who had impregnated her, she had changed so drastically that when Dennis had met her a fortnight before he almost did not recognise her. But they had renewed relations by the simple expedient of her being invited to his home during the day. There was no replacement for her as he could look after the boy who was already walking about.

She opened her mouth wide to admit the cock she had come to love so much, and now remembered with longing. He looked down to see it disappearing between her teeth, and going down into her throat. He fucked her face while holding the back of her head, feeling his balls tightening with every passing moment. He felt his juice spurt through the stem of his cock and shoot into her mouth. He felt her mouth working to contain it all without wasting any. Then her throat made every effort to swallow his whole offering, while his hold on her head relaxed bit by bit as his emotions cooled.

Quick as a flash he pulled her upon the bed into a sitting position, then lay her down, at the same time turning her so that her legs came onto the bed. He lined his body to hers, and bringing his head between her legs. She moaned in anticipation of his wonderful licking of her cunt. She opened her legs wider in invitation and her breathing quickened as his lips grazed her cunt lips gently. She almost told him to be quick about sucking her cunt into his familiar warm mouth, but she bided her time, knowing that he always gave her the best. His goal was to satisfy her as a woman, as his lover. She felt the vibrations of his deep voice against her vaginal lips, almost coming from that excitement. But she wanted that delicious tongue of his to do its wonders to her.

Then it came out to play, washing her lips, left and right, with his saliva. At the same time he was opening her up, getting closer and closer to her wetness, her juices of arousal. She felt keenly when that wicked tongue came in contact with her wetness. She almost jumped from the sheer excess of emotion that seized her when his warm mouth clamped onto her cunt. He began sucking, driving her dangerously close to coming. He travelled all the way up from near her asshole, to the top near her clit, but not touching it yet. He felt her jump slightly as if willing him to visit her clit. From experience he knew it would not take much to bring her to the boil once he sucked her clit into his mouth. Down the furrow he went and then back up, sampling her juices and exciting her further. When he stopped short of her clit she pushed her hips up trying to kiss his mouth with her clit, but the third time he descended, but this time he paused to admire her hole with rolled-up tongue. He pushed as far as his tongue could go then imitated the fucking motion in and out. She wailed, "Ohhh, darling!"

He gave her some more of this exquisite torture for the space of a few moments, before suddenly sweeping up her slit and clamping onto her clit. "Yeoow!" she yelped.

Then he sucked the whole fleshy nub into his mouth. The warmth and the pressure combined to take her so high that she became incoherent, unable to more than make groaning noises. Pressing the clit between his teeth and upper lip, he sucked her juices into his mouth. This was far more than she could take, and she felt something come apart, pitting her in a free fall into an abyss. She felt herself flying through a void without any fear of falling, feeling instead an elation and pleasure such as she had never before experienced.

As he felt the tremors rocking her body, he too came unstuck, his jism shooting from his cock in hot spurts of fertile sperm. He was rocked from head to toe by the force of his orgasm, then lay inert like one dead. He was brought back to reality by her weak voice and even weaker push against his chest. He was flattening her beneath his weight.

"Sorry darling! I almost smothered you to death in the midst of your pleasure!"

Her breath escaped in a big whoosh and then she sucked gallons more as if she would take in the whole roomful for herself!

Then they lay beside each other running the pleasure of the last few minutes through their minds. They felt as if they had gone to heaven without seeing God and the angels and managed to come back to earth.
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His Former Househelp

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