9ja Story: The African Aunty


I have a prodigious passion for African women. I love their style and elegance, but above all else I yearn for their beautiful black bodies. They are so eminently gorgeous and sexual that my cock stiffens whenever I see them in the street or imagine them in my mind.

My sexual appreciation of African womanhood began at the age of eighteen. I had gone to stay with Aunty Sarah in Lagos, Nigeria, while my mother was attending a business conference in Kenya. Aunty Sarah was not my real aunt, but
I’d always known her by that name. She and my mother had been at university together in England, and had remained close friends throughout their lives. 

Aunty Sarah was divorced, thirty-nine, generous hips and breasts, lovely face and a very welcoming personality. Her home was large and sumptuous, with numerous bedrooms and eight servants. 

On my first day I rose early, showered and went downstairs to hunt for some food. I found the kitchen and the cook provided me with an excellent breakfast. Just as I was clearing my plate the intercom buzzed. The cook answered it and then informed me that Mrs Makeba – Aunty Sarah would like to see me in her room. 

I was e****ted upstairs by Molly, one of the maids, and led along several thickly carpeted corridors. We reached the room, the maid knocked, and we were bidden to enter.

Aunty Sarah was sitting up in bed suckling her infant daughter.

“Ah, Peter, come in, come in.” She said, with kindly authority. “You’ve caught little Elizabeth at her breakfast. Molly, please take this greedy little girl to the nursery, she’s had enough for now.”

I was rather embarrassed at this injunction, but felt excited and aroused at the sight of Aunty Sarah’s large naked breasts, and as I walked to the bed my penis began to swell within my cotton shorts.

She noticed. “Oh, I’m sorry, Peter. I still think of you as a baby. Give me a minute to get dressed and then we can have a chat in the drawing room.”

“Oh…no…no…er…don’t get dressed on my account,” I babbled, vainly trying to adopt an air of sophisticated nonchalance.

Aunty Sarah smiled benignly at my bungling attempt to appear worldly wise. Then, in an attitude of mock coyness, she placed her hands over her nipples and simpered: “Well, young man, the choice is yours, should I get dressed or stay naked.”

“Oh, stay naked,” I gasped, pleadingly, conscious that my pretence at sophistication was not compatible with an uncontrollable erection.

“Okay, Peter, take your things off and get into bed, you can play with me for an hour and then we’ll travel into town to see my cousin Venus.

I stripped, and slipped into bed beside her, she cuddled me gently and guided my hands around her satin smooth body. My erection ached deliciously as I touched and explored her private, intimate places.

“Now, Peter, would you like to fuck or suck, or both? My breasts are very rich in baby milk so you can suckle me for a while and then fuck me later. Is that okay?”

“Oooh, yes,” I groaned deliriously, “let me suck your breasts.”

She sat up and offered her right breast to my eager mouth; her nipple was firm between my tongue and palate as I imbibed her sweet creamy fluid. She reached down with her left hand and caressed my engorged penis. My heart pounded as her fingers expertly teased me into a state of intense erotic excitement. She moved me to her left breast and began to wank me more quickly, rhythmically working my fore skin back and forth over my knob head. The sensation was exquisite, overwhelming; I was desperate to ejaculate.

She realised I was going to orgasm and suddenly stopped her ministrations. “Oh, no, not yet my beautiful white boy. Now you must fuck me.”

Aunty Sarah slid down the bed and parted herthighs. I knelt before her and raised her knees towards her chest to give me ease of access. Her pudendum was plump and inviting, and extravagantly surmounted by a forest of tight black curls. I placed a forefinger inside her moist slit and began to massage her clitoris hood with my thumb. She responded with a sharp intake of breath, and voiced her approval in hoarse whispers of encouragement.

“Good boy…oh yes…good boy…oooh that is so nice…do it to me…do it to me…” She paused to catch her breath, and then resumed with a terse command: “Fuck me!”

I obeyed instantly, slipping my burning erection into her wet, awaiting gash. She shuddered and moaned softly. I withdrew to the entrance and pushed in again. I repeated the action, embedding myself deep within her body. She lifted her legs to my shoulders and exhorted me to fuck harder.

“Come on my darling Peter, fuck your Aunty… fuck me hard…fuck me like a good boy…oh yes, that’s right, you’re doing it properly now… harder…faster…fuck me good…oooh, keep fucking… don’t stop…”

I fucked with fierce, vigorous thrusts, exulting in our sexual intimacy. Her breathing increased to a rapid panting, she was on the threshold. I fucked harder and deeper, my body flushed with a hot tide of delicious pleasure. The tension in my loins was unbearable, I had to come – but Aunty got there first. Her cunt clenched in an orgasmic spasm as her body shivered with delight. I followed immediately, withdrawing in the act of ejaculation – hot gushes of thick, white spunk streaking across her breasts and face. She smiled, and licked her cum splattered lips. 

“Very commendable, Peter,” she said, as I lay panting at her side. “And you taste nice too,” she added. “Right, come on now young man, you can give me a rub down in the bath and then we’ll visit my cousin Venus. You’ll like her – very eccentric – not like me at all.

I’ll tell you about Aunty Sarah’s cousin at a later date. Bye for now!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s