around, as we joined the long scraggily line at the airport, I was sure that I
had never seen so many scary men in all my life. The bus from the aircraft had
just dropped us off in front of the dowdy terminal building. High on the
façade, the legend, Bangui M’Poko International Airport shone in bright red
capital lettering. I wondered if the three letters that were flickering was a
warning of tawdry conditions inside.
group of armed soldiers were gathered around, seemingly waiting to escort us
into the glass fronted structure. I was one of about 100 or so other passengers
and together we were filing through the entrance door, while the soldiers
intermingled with us. The aggressive officers jostled and pushed as we tried to
form a queue to wait our turn to check in at the security desk.
hour earlier, on the plane, I’d been woken by the sound of the aircraft’s
ping-pong alert system, followed by the announcement, “Due to unforeseen circumstances we are having to make an unscheduled
stop in Bangui, which is in the Central African Republic. The crew, and
Egyptian Airways, would like to apologise for any inconvenience this delay may
cause to any of our passengers.”
Cacophony of chatter immediately broke out in the first-class cabin, alerting
me to the concern of my fellow passengers. I looked out of the oval window
beside me and immediately sat up in my seat. I had spotted a jet fighter some
distance away, seemingly escorting our plane across the clear blue sky.
going on Mary?” I asked my companion anxiously.
Blackburn, Professor Samuel’s Personal assistant, leant across the aisle to
talk to the Professor. On hearing my question, he lifted his head to look over
worry Carly,” he said, trying to reassure me. “I need to talk to you in a
minute, so I’ll swap places with Mary.”
handsome black businessman looked worried about something, but I sat back in my
seat to wait for him to finish his discussion. I had only joined Professor
Joseph Samuel’s employ six months earlier, during which time, Mary had been
steadily training me to be her assistant.
hind sight, I realized that I was naive at the interviews and missed many signs
that might have warned me about the real reasons for the Professor hiring me. I
accepted the research assistant’s job thinking that my role would be solely
clerical and number crunching.
had led me to believe that I would spend most of my time in her company at the
Professor’s London laboratories. But as the weeks went by, I was given more
tasks to spend with Joseph. It was a clear attempt to start a relationship
between the two of us.
had done her homework on me and must have found out that I had a black
boyfriend after leaving school; and that I had only just broken up with him, weeks
before I applied for the job.
fantasized that the Professor was a sexual predator with a proclivity for young
white girls. So, when he started to groom me into accepting his advances, I
hardly put up a fight and before long, let him take advantage of my submissive
straightened up in her seat and turned to me.
she begun sternly. “Professor Samuel has a serious favour to ask you. A favour
that will shock you at first, but because of the unscheduled stop we
desperately need your help. Just do as he asks and he’ll reward you handsomely
when we return to London.”
stared at the black PA’s serious face and thought I saw signs of fear in her
eyes. She was normally such a confident, bossy woman, who liked to dominate the
situation and dominate me.
year old African American, virtually ran the London Laboratory for Professor
Samuel, whose main business, Downing Institution Inc, was based in New York,
5’10” tall, the beautiful black woman dwarfed me by 4” and by several more when
wearing her usual 4” stiletto heels. She was heavily set, but had a magnificent
figure for someone who probably weighed 140 pounds. Her jet-black hair, which
she wore long and swept to the side, nicely framed her good-looking oval face
and large brown calculating eyes.
Mary usually avoided a lot of heavy makeup when working or travelling, I
noticed she had added a little moisturizer to her rich mahogany complexion.
Silicone implants had reduced the width of her nose and with high cheekbones
and voluptuous strawberry red lips, she cut an attractive figure.
warm smile suggested a friendly personality, but the red welts on my posterior
were living proof of her being just the opposite. I began to fret about what
they were going to ask me to do. What could be so important to the organization
at such a time.
I had a chance to respond to the woman, she rose from her seat and stood aside
for the Professor to take her place. She then headed down the aisle toward the
he begun, placing his heavy hand on my thigh. I had become used to his touch in
the previous few weeks. “I want you to hide this for me on your person,” he
said opening his other hand to show me what he was holding.
to lean forward to see that in the centre of his pinkish-brown palm, sat a
micro SD card in a tiny plastic wallet. I reached out to pick it up, but he
closed his hand before my fingers reached it.
so important about it Joseph?” I whispered, before biting my tongue.
used his first name, which he didn’t like outside of his private London office.
He frowned at me and then continued in earnest.
have vital formula on this card, which I don’t want to fall into the wrong
hands,” he explained, while slowly moving his hand up my thigh, under the loose
cotton fabric of my summer frock.
fingers reached the soft swell of my sex between my slightly parted thighs and
slipped into the valley.
I want you to hide this valuable memory stick in your quim…” His index finger
forcibly rubbed the centre of the warm, narrow strip of cotton between my inner
thighs, indicating where the tiny piece of plastic was to be hidden.
stared at the handsome black man, alarmed by his unexpected suggestion, and
tried to decide if what he was asking me to do was risky or in any way
do you want to hide it?” I asked, quickly getting to the point.
genetic information on this card is worth billions of dollars and in the wrong
hands could pose a danger to huge swathes of the African population,” he
Professor was wearing a blue and white striped, short sleeve shirt, which was
unbuttoned at the neck. His muscular body, arms and neck looked in good shape
for a 42 year old man, as did his smooth, dark mahogany complexion. Like his
PA, Mary, he had large brown eyes, but his face was rounder and his features
were flatter and a little more stereotypical of his Zulu heritage.
why don’t you give it to Miss Blackburn,” I asked anxiously, trying to think of
a reasonable excuse. “She’s more experienced.”
wasn’t a man who normally took no for an answer.
asking you, Carly, because you are English and white. You will be left alone by
the authorities if there is a delay and we have to pass through immigration.”
His index finger was still stroking the cleft formed in my panties, trying to
force the cotton gusset deeper into my damp furrow.
looked into his earnest dark eyes and knew that I was trapped on two fronts.
Firstly, his physical presence was intimidating, and secondly, if I didn’t do
as he asked, I would be sure to lose my job when I returned to London; which
would be a financial disaster for me. On the other hand Mary had said that if I
hid the card, I would get a reward when we got back, which appealed to my
only a precaution Carly. We might not even have to leave the plane.”
right,” I conceded. “Give it to me here and I’ll nip down to the loo.”
my hand out, but instead of handing it over, the Professor only withdrew his
hand from under my skirt and stood up.
go down to the galley. Mary has arranged a little privacy,” he said, pointing
in the opposite direction to the toilets.
stood up, smoothed my red pleated skirt and glanced around the rows of seats to
see if I was the centre of attention. Most of the passengers seemed to be busy
putting things back in their bags and certainly weren’t interested in what I
was doing with the professor; so I slipped into the aisle and followed the broad-shouldered
man to the centre of the plane.
arrived at the galley, which was part of the dividing section between first and
economy class, I stood aside. The two Egyptian stewardesses slipped out, before
I could enter the tiny kitchen to join the Professor in the small cubicle. The
tall businessman drew the curtain closed, before leaning back to eyeball my
wearing a plain dark red pleated miniskirt and a white blouse, which had a
pretty floral print design in various shades of red and purple. I had donned a
soft white cotton bra, because of the heat, and a matching pair of full cotton
panties, knowing the Professor’s preferences for college girl underwear.
approaching my 22nd birthday, so felt slightly miffed about being
asked to wear a specific type of skirt and panties, but the man paid me a lot
of money and I had a good job, so I went along with his and his PA’s various
demands and kinks. If my friends knew what I had gotten myself into, they’d
call me a whore. But, I reasoned, I was doing a good job and enjoying myself,
while at the same time tucking away a nice little nest egg.
of the men who made moves on me always complemented me on my long wavy red hair
and my sparkling green eyes. I knew I stood out in a crowd from an early age,
but never let my natural good looks go to my head. Maybe it was because I was
brought up in Brixton in London, which had a high proportion of black people
living in the borough.
the students at college were black and without realizing it, I began to make
more black friends than white. It was only natural that I fell for one of the
black boys, who buzzed around us white girls like bees round honey pots.
Eventually though, the gang mentality of my boyfriend Wesley became too much
for me and I moved away from Brixton to live with an old friend on the other
side of London.
Carly,” Joseph urged. “We’ve only got a few minutes, slip your panties off and
put your foot up here.”
I gasped. “We can’t do it here!”
We have room and we have to hurry.”
shrugged when the Professor pointed to a small upholstered seat, which had been
lowered for a stewardess to perch herself on. I reached up under my skirt,
grabbed the waistband of the panties and eased them down off my pert orbs,
before stepping out of them, one foot at a time.
give them to me, Carly,” he demanded, almost snatching the flimsy garment from
my hand in his eagerness to claim my warm underwear.
wasn’t surprised when he untwisted them and buried his nose in the thin strip
of cotton that had become sticky with my usual exudations. After taking a quick
sniff of the garment, he bunged them in his pocket. I lifted my right foot onto
the seat and held out my hand for the memory card.
do it,” he said eagerly. “Lift your skirt up, Carly. Let me have a looksee of
that cute cunt of yours.”
raised my eyebrows and sighed at his pathetic weakness for talking dirty. It
was very unbecoming of an eminent scientist, but then everything he demanded of
me in private was very unbecoming of the distinguished businessman he purported
to be. I pulled the pleats of my skirt along my raised thigh to reveal the twin
roll of my pussy and the smooth skin of my protuberant mons.
if only we had a little more time. Your cunt is perfect…”
I turned at the sound of Mary’s voice, to see the PA peeping round the drawn
curtain. “We haven’t got much time sir…!” She insisted.
I exclaimed, when I felt his fingers slide along my sticky lips, searching for
my soft, unresisting, portal.
stood stock still, somewhat embarrassed, while Mary eyeballed the professor
delving into my sex. They both enjoyed watching each other having sex with me,
so I wasn’t surprised to see her interest.
Professor located my wet spot and easily slid two digits into my quim,
whereupon he stroked them in and out until they were coated with copious
amounts of glistening cunt cream. The moment he placed the tiny plastic
container between his fingers, I had a sudden anxiety about what he was doing.
don’t push it in too far,” I warned. “Otherwise we won’t be able to get the
damn thing out!”
he agreed, while sliding his fingers about 3” into my quim, before releasing
the card and withdrawing his digits. “There, put your panties on,” he said
handing them back. “And return to your seat. And relax, Carly, I’m sure the
airline will sort things out on the ground and we’ll be on our way in a trice.”
words were reassuring, but I couldn’t budge a nagging feeling of approaching