The Heart of Africa

The Congo was nothing like America, Elizabeth knew now. There was a compound, on the fringes of the jungle, where she now lived with Nsaku and her children. To leave the compound required armed guards. To do almost anything, it felt, required armed guards.

The smells were different. Everything felt a little more intense here, Elizabeth decided. The colors felt more intense, the smells were stronger, everything was just a little extra compared to the staid, doldrum filled life of America. Her clothes were more colorful. And the pleasure, under her Congolese buck each night in the bed, his enormous cock drilling her cunt, was magnitudes stronger.