Dans le Murs (Part 5)

"I gather that you were not put off by the taste and texture." I said soaping the sperm from my penis.
"No way." she said doing likewise, "It's a lovely spicy taste, not at all nasty. I'd like to take the lot before we leave."
"I think we can arrange that." I said turning off the shower and stepping out onto the mat. The rest of that night was spent rolling on the bed, the rug and the shower. If there was anything we didn't try it would form part of a very short list. The night ended at about 5 am with Simone taking everything I had into her mouth and swallowing. My pack of condoms were soon gone but she had also brought some, even so we had at least two bareback rides followed by a quick withdrawal and a puddle in her pubic hair. When I showered at eight I could hardly raise a finger let alone my penis. Simone was still sleeping soundly, naked, under the duvet. It was a shame that I had to return to France later that day. At ten she woke and we had a 'brunch'. I asked her if she would like to be a porno movie star but she declined. Very sensible really, I thought. Not much future in it and the risks were high. I was booked on the 19:30 ferry so I had to leave by 16:30. That left a few hours to fill. The weather was still warm with little hint of moisture so I checked out and we wandered around the park. I felt so young again with this beauty at my side. Sitting on a bench for a few minutes she nibbled my ear. "May I have a last little taster?" she nuzzled. "Simone." I chastised her playfully, "Not here, in public, please."

“Where then? Oh Colin, you've got to leave in a while, I want you just once more." she wheedled.
I looked around and saw a clump of beech trees about three hundred metres away. "Over there." I pointed to the trees, "Come on you lascivious little harridan, I will submit to your evil lustings after my body." I stood up and trotted off.
"You did your share of lusting last night." she said as she easily caught me, "Did you know that I am actually sore between my legs?"

As she said this we passed a little white haired old lady sitting on a bench feeding the pigeons. Her eyes opened wide and she dropped her bag of crumbs as she comprehended Simone's words. Simone started laughing and fell, tears streaming down her cheeks, against the first beech tree. "Did you see her face?" she croaked, "I bet that's the biggest thrill she's had in decades. She's not watching, is she?"
"No," I said regaining my breath, "she's still sitting on the bench. I think she's probably in shock. I wonder if she has any idea what we're going to do."
"I bet she thinks you are going to screw me and reckons it's disgusting that a white man gets his leg over a black girl. Silly racist cow. I bet she'd like a black man to slip into her wizened old tush and give her a refill. I bet she hasn't spread her legs for twenty years."

"Simone!" I said in surprise at the vitriolic outburst.
"Sorry love." she said with a smile, "When you're black you do get racist remarks and it makes you a little bitter. Some people, like you, treat me like a person, others think that I am inferior and, worse still, that I'm an easy lay. They seem to think that black girls are put on this earth simply to spread their legs for white men and that, at the snap of a finger, they will be on their backs and panting for it. I know of lots of black girls who are so prudish that they hardly let their mother see their boobs let alone any old white boy screw their pussy. And the same goes for black boys too. Everybody thinks that they have pricks like stallions and when they come it's like a hosepipe. It's simply not true. Your prick is bigger than any of the black boys at school. O.K., my dad's is bigger but not by much and you certainly produce more spunk than any other boy I've known. Oh, talking of spunk, have you a little to spare for Simone." She had begun to cool off and simper. I eased my cock from my fly. It was still a little worn from the previous night but it was stiffening enough for her. I leant against a tree while she went down on one knee and began to snuffle and slurp at it. Soon I was rigid and she was sliding her lips over the veined rod. The swollen head distended her mouth as it dropped piquant little bubbles onto her tongue. With two hands behind her head I shafted her mouth until I felt the cream about to flow.
"Here it comes, Simone." I said simply, "Take it, take it all into your tummy." The juice spurted from me and she swallowed the first gummy threads. Suddenly there was a yell to our left as the little old lady sprang out. "What are you doing, you filthy girl?" she screamed, coming towards us, "I've never seen anything so disgusting, and in public too. Letting a man put his privates in your mouth. Stop it at once, d'you hear me. Oh, my God, what debauchery, you filthy, filthy, depraved girl, letting him do that in your mouth! Have you no shame you black hussy?"

In the panic I had slipped from Simone's sweet lips and was still gently ejaculating over her chin and this is what had driven the little old lady hysterical. Simone stood up and wiped the semen from her face with a tissue.

"Why don't you fuck off you wizened old witch." she shouted, "What I do with my man is no concern of yours. Just because no man will screw you or let you suck him off why take your frustration out on others. Look at you, your cunt's probably healed up through lack of use. You miserable old cow, what you need is a good dose of spunk. Come here." She reached out and grabbed the old lady and, before I realised what was going on, she was kissing her. Then I realised. She still had some semen in her mouth and was forcing it on her. The old lady tore herself away with an amazing show of strength.
"Help, police, rape!" she screamed as she spat out the mixture of saliva and semen.
"Oh, oh, Simone," I shouted, "I think it's time we weren't here."
"My sentiments entirely." she replied, "Let's get back to the car and split."
We raced back to the car leaving the little old lady still ranting and raving. Within minutes we were simply part of the traffic and I headed back toward Kensal Green to deposit my little tart. I dropped her some half a mile from the flat.
"Keep in touch, big boy." she kissed me lightly as she slipped out of the car.
"I'll probably be over at the end of the month to bring Wallace's films," I reminded her, "I'll give you a big cuddle then. In the meantime, keep your hand on your h'apenny."
"You mean my little slot machine." she giggled just like the schoolgirl she was, "Don't worry, only two people are allowed to open that from now on, you and me. Oh, Colin, will you marry me when I'm a bit older, although I am old enough now you realise."
"Only if you promise to keep yourself pure and do the sort of things we did last night."
"Oh love," she said, "you know that there is nothing I won't do for you."
"O.K." I said starting the car once more, "Just keep the old man happy and nothing else. Bye, I'll see you."
I watched her waving in the mirror until I turned off at a junction. I was sort of semi-engaged to the randiest little black girl I had ever known. The journey home was boring and it was quite dark by the time I reached Beaumetz.
Half an hour after I had arrived, just before I was about to take a shower, the phone rang. It was Simone. She was out of her mind. "I had to talk to you." she sobbed bitterly, "When I got back, uncle said he'd got a bit of indigestion as he'd had to cook his own lunch. Anyway he asked me to relieve him so I did. I was so intent on watching his prick that I wasn't watching his face. He started to come and then he just keeled over. Oh Colin, he was dead before he touched the floor. Heart, the doctor said. I had to clean him up before I even called the doctor; if I hadn't wanked him he would've been here now. Oh, love what am I going to do? I've got no one to turn to.”
"Stay there Simone," I said assertively, "I'll get the first ferry or hover across. It’s going to take about four or five hours, maybe more, so don’t panic."

I threw some clothes, including a sober suit, into the car, locked up after leaving a message for Therese telling her that I had to return to the UK on urgent personal business. Using the A26 I made Calais in just under the hour. I could not get a SeaCat or hover at that time of night so had to slum it on the next Sealink. The journey seemed to take hours although it was, in point of fact, dead on time. The passport control was slow and so were customs. Naturally I was stopped but, as I genuinely had nothing and was honest about my reasons, I was able to clear the port in less than twenty minutes. The journey took forever and, although the traffic was light, I seemed to find a slow lorry at every incline. Five and a half hours had elapsed before I arrived at Number 17. The door opened moments after I rang the bell and a weeping Simone threw herself into my arms. I comforted the distraught girl. She made a coffee and then we sat down to make plans. I naturally offered to help with all the arrangements. She was much calmer now the police and medical people had left and I told her that we would start first thing in the morning. It was now nearly six in the morning, already daylight but we slipped into bed together. There was no sex this time, I just held her close to me and let her sob herself to sleep.

The next few days were taken up with post-mortem and funeral arrangements. It seems that Wallace was not short of a few bob but at least his will was simple, Simone got the lot, including the flat, in trust until she was eighteen. Once we had got the funeral over I sat with her to help her make plans. I told her she was not going to be short of money, had somewhere to live and had her whole life in front of her.
"I can't stay here." she said, "Not after all this. Can I come and live with you?"
"How's your French?" I asked.
"Non existent." she said, "Why?"
"You'd have to continue your further education in France, that's why."
"Sod college!" she spat, "You can pretend I'm your wife. I'll play the part properly, I'll do what wives are supposed to."
"Don't you dare," I laughed, "I prefer you as you are, a randy little harridan who respects what I've got in my trousers. I wouldn't want you to become wifely, you know, twice a week straight missionary style with a polite grunt as it comes and almost demanding an apology for making a little mess in her vagina. No thank you!"
"Christ, is that what wives are really like?" she asked in disbelief.
"Well, perhaps that was a bit of a generality," I agreed, "but you hear of lots of women just performing with their husbands because it is their duty. There's a quick bounce on the bed and then sleep. No variations, masturbation has a price tag and when it comes to oral sex, well, that's treated almost like a capital offence."
"I wouldn't be like that, honest," she wheedled, "I'll do all the naughty things you like if you'll let me live with you."
"There are problems, Simone," I began, "I think I may have to become your guardian for financial purposes as you are under eighteen. I should ensure you get an education and if I were caught having sex with you they could throw the book at me."
"Why? I’m sixteen so I’m old enough for that. Can't I just disappear and go with you?" she questioned, "Nobody knows who you are and lots of girls go missing every year."
"O.K., we'll give it a try." I said, "Now, the flat and everything else is in trust and the bank are trustees. You will have to tell them that you are emigrating and living with a distant relative. Otherwise, if you simply go missing there will be serious problems when you reach eighteen and come into your inheritance. Look, give the bank a call and say that you want to sell the flat and intend to move out immediately as the memory is too painful. Tell them you'll give them a forwarding address. They'll do the necessary and hold the money in trust. Wallace's will made you an allowance of 6,500 Euros a year, which should be more than sufficient. If you trust me, I will receive it and you can use it as you wish. Otherwise it will have to be placed on deposit. We'll slide off to France and I'll arrange a forwarding address in another part of Europe for you." She agreed with a delicious kiss.

The next few days were hectic. I stayed in a nearby hotel, very conscious that I must not appear too close to Simone. I dressed differently each day so as to confuse any nosy neighbours. Finally, the bank, as trustees, got rolling and decided that it would be better to rent the flat and provide a steady income for Simone. I was not sure but she agreed so we accepted the bank's recommendation for an agent. The only problem was the deal that we were going to strike with Wallace over the films. Then, as we were clearing out, I came across a small notebook full of names. On one page there was a scribbled note that said, "Films, etc. Winston Sylvester Hoyte." and gave an outer London number. I called the number, said that I spoke for Wallace and agreed to meet at a pub in Chingford. With Simone doing some shopping for her wardrobe in France I took the tube and walked into the saloon bar of the Cat and Cracker. After getting a dry cider I asked the barman for Winston and he pointed out a young West Indian man.

"Winston," he shouted, "someone here to see you man." Winston came over, shook my hand and we settled in a little snug. I explained that Wallace was dead and that I had found his name and was he interested in continuing with the deal. An hour of negotiation concluded a deal, similar to the one struck with Wallace. I agreed to supply the films to Winston on the same day under the same conditions although he seemed less concerned over the promise of physical damage if he transgressed. We parted amicably and I returned to Simone.

Everything was ready for our departure. Simone would deliberately dress quite plainly, making her look much older. She would slip out early in the morning with two cases, taking a taxi to Euston Station. There she would buy a ticket to Stafford, making a lot of fuss finding the money so that the ticket clerk would remember her if asked. The 08:41 stopped additionally at Queens Park where she would alight and, using her season ticket, travel back to Paddington Station. There I would pick her up and drive to Dover to mingle with the other passengers. The plan went like clockwork and I picked her up from outside Paddington Station a few minutes after 11. The traffic was horrendous but as we were booked on the 17:15 there was no need to panic. Slipping out onto the North Circular we took the longer, but probably quicker route over the QE2 Bridge to the M25 then down the M20 into the port. The road was becoming very familiar! We even had time for a sandwich and loo break at a big supermarket. I had previously booked a single passage in the names of Mr and Mrs deVilliers. I knew that the 17:15 was always very busy and it was unlikely that Simone’s passport would be closely inspected. If they did, I would have the embarrassment of having to admit that I was going away for a ‘naughty’ weekend with a young woman. In the event they simply saw the passports and waved us through. We slipped onto the boat with all the others, took a typical P&O meal and soon found ourselves in France. It took just over the hour to reach Beaumetz from Calais; Simone was fascinated with the space as she had been a city girl for all of her 18 years. There was still much work to do in the cottage but I didn’t think that the lack of the second bedroom was going to bother us. We unpacked and I showed her around. By around 22:00 she was familiar with the building. It was still very warm so I suggested we go for a quick drink in the local cafe. After a couple of beers we wandered back down the now dark road. Our light sprang to life as we approached; I put the car away and made the place secure for our first night. I had warned her about the silence but she was unprepared for the totality of it. I had pointed out our resident bats as we had walked up the drive and she had admitted that the country frightened her. I assured her that she would love the cows and the chickens, the ducks and eventually even the bats; we actually had some large towns if she really wanted. Grabbing a towel she took a shower and emerged from the steamy room with her skin glowing.