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I said above that Amara was a tall handsome woman. By that I mean, attractive in the western sense. I'm 5'10" tall. She was just as tall. I was 45 and I thought Amara was about my age.

She always wore loose dresses that came to mid-calf. It was difficult to tell if she was buxom; those dresses were that loose and she always wore a big, colorful scarf that tied in front. Like many Ethiopian women, her hair was cut short, almost to her scalp. She didn't appear to wear much in the way of make-up although her lips were ruby red.

In the US, African-Americans are various shades of black and brown. Most Ethiopians, Amara included, were black. The color of coal.

As she snuggled against me, I wasn't sure if this was sexual or in fact just for warmth. Within just a few minutes, Amara took my hand and moved it to her breast. I had my answer.

I whispered, "are you sure?"

"Positive. Jake, Ethiopian men aren't attracted to women like me. I hope, at least for tonight, you are." Her hand reached between my legs.

I was caressing her breast. Her very full breast with good size nipples that seemed to get harder and more prominent the more my hand explored them.

By the time her hand found its way inside my sweatpants, my cock was hard. "I think you like my knockers." In my travels I'd learned that knockers was a common British euphemism for tits. "Kiss them, Jake."

I kissed my way down to her breasts. I didn't really kiss her breasts; it was more like I sucked those prominent nipples. "Your tongue is so gentle. It has me anxious for more."

I wasn't sure what more was until Amara had my cock out and her head was now deep inside my sleeping bag. I felt her tongue and then her lips. It didn't take long for me to figure that Amara was no stranger to cock sucking. Her mouth was marvelous.

Then she crawled up beside me. "Jake, if we had any kind of relationship I'd keep going, but tonight, I just need you to make love to me."

She was on her back and I was on top of her. That was it for foreplay. She guided my cock to her pussy hole. "Jake, I know you Americans call it a pussy, but my British lovers called it a twat or a snatch. Whatever you call it, I need your cock inside it."

Although there wasn't much foreplay, Amara's pussy readily accepted my cock. We started off slowly; there wasn't much room to maneuver inside the sleeping bag. "Thank you, Jake. You have no idea how much this means to me."

Amara began to move a little more. "If we got out of this sleeping bag, we'd have more room. With what your cock is doing to me, I need more room."

"I thought you were cold."

"Oh Jake, a girl can't be too obvious or she'll get a reputation as a tart. You know, a slut."

It was a chore to get out of the sleeping bag without uncoupling, but in a matter of minutes we were on top of the sleeping bag and I was again inside Amara. "Hmmmmm, that's better. Shag me good, Jake."

Yes, it was much better and we moved together faster and faster. Having traveled the world, I'd slept with girls of all different races, cultures and religions. The next hour of my life was the best fuck I could remember.

Amara was loud and didn't hesitate to tell me how she liked it. "Fuck me hard, Jake. I like it hard. Yeah, just like that."

She made it easy; those long legs were on my back and her ass was in constant motion.

"You were marvelous," I said later when I finished.

"Thank you, Jake. I needed you to make love to me. I don't know when we'll have a chance, but I'm looking forward to having you do me again."

The chance came sooner than I expected. The morning sun in the desert was warm. Amara was up early. There was no one around for perhaps fifty miles. She was organizing things in the Range Rover and she was naked.

I took in her beauty. Those tits which I didn't have much chance to enjoy last night were good size, firm and lovely. There was just a hint of pubic hair hiding the delights I'd enjoyed last night.

"You're awake. It won't be fully light for another hour and we're only two hours from our destination. Jake, what I'm suggesting is that we have plenty of time to continue where we left off last night."

"Mi casa, su casa." I held open the tent flap for her. "Amara, you were amazing last night, but you wanted me to make love to you. I never got the chance."

"Oh?"

She was on her back and I was by her side. I started kissing those tits which in the early light looked so inviting. "Amara, my tongue is enjoying your lovely tits."

"Knockers."

"Yes knockers, but my tongue has an interest in something else."

"You really want to taste my twat?"

"No, I'd like to make love to it."

"You Americans have such marvelous ideas." My fingers were playing and Amara moved her legs farther apart.

Her black skin offset the brilliant pink of her open pussy. You may recall that my second wife, Alma, insisted on only pussy eating and a woman I lived with, Jackie, after a few years decided that pussy eating wasn't just foreplay, it was the main course.

I'm not bragging when I say my oral skills were exemplary. An hour later and after numerous orgasms, Amara would concur. "Oh God, Jake, keep doing me. Eat my twat, eat it. Yes, yes, yes, keep eating it."

When I needed to come up for air, "Amara, there's nothing better than Ethiopian pussy. You're delicious."

"I'm glad you're enjoying me. I'd like you to keep enjoying me." She pushed my head back into her pussy. I called it pussy; she called it her twat. The end result was the same: another orgasm, then another. "Oh God, oh God, oh God, yes, yes, yes, oh yes. Jake, your tongue, oh God your tongue."

Amara, "oh my (breath) God, Jake that was (breath) the most in(breath)credible shag I've (breath) ever had. And you didn't even shag me."

"Are you ready to get fucked or shagged?"

"Not yet. First, I want to show you that you're not the only one in this desert with a talented tongue; although I do have to say that your tongue, oh my, your tongue."

Amara demonstrated that last night was just a warm up. This morning, she demonstrated that she could suck cock as good or better than anyone on all the continents except Antarctic or across the Seven Seas. "Hmmmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmm," she sucked. "Hmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmmm."

"Don't make me cum, my cock wants to finish up in that tasty what did you call it?"

"Twat. Yes, fuck my twat."

Amara was far better than last night. I blame it on my prior tongue work and her magnificent sucking. We fucked or shagged much of the morning.

When we finished and got on our way to our destination, I thought that we had a great night and that was it. I had no further expectations.

Amara had other ideas. In the town where I needed to take a few hundred pictures, only one or two of which would be published, "I'll meet you right here in four hours."

Then she took off. Where? I had no idea.

"Did you get everything you need?"

"I did. Where to now?"

"I have an idea. Let's go."

Two hours later, we were in the middle of a desert, in a national park. The accommodations were primitive but there was fresh water. We didn't see any other people. "I thought we might spend a few days where you might become familiar with the other Ethiopia."

While I was working, Amara had been busy, too. "Jake, we have enough supplies for a week. After setting up the tent, she undressed and walked around naked.

I laughed, "Amara, if you're trying to entice me, you're doing a good job."

"Then you should join me inside." She disappeared in the tent.

I soon joined her. She was lying on top of the sleeping bags, legs spread. "Did you say something about getting a taste of Ethiopia?"

I had on a tee shirt, shorts and sandals. The sandals came off, but if Amara was anxious, so was I. I knelt between her legs; that tuft of black hair calling me. "Are you sure, you don't want me to start on your lovely knockers?"

She laughed, "you're learning to speak English. No, my knockers will still be there later. My twat has been looking forward to your tongue, since you left it this morning."

I didn't waste any more time. I kissed her outer pussy lips, but then my tongue started, "Oh yeah, that's what I wanted."

"You're more delicious than you were this morning," I mumbled.

That's how I spent the next hour. My tongue found her clitoris and she went crazy. "Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh Jake. I'm melting, Jake. I'm melting."

I was to learn that melt was another of those British words I didn't understand. Melt=orgasm.

Amara melted numerous times over that next hour and then insisted that I shag her. If last night and this morning were great shags, Amara outdid herself as the sun set over the park.

That night, "Jake look what I found out. The sleeping bags zip together, we can snuggle all night, and I can slip down and give you a bj. After what you did to me, that's the least I can do," she laughed. Apparently, the Brits never say blowjob, it's just a bj.

Not just a bj; Amara knew how to suck cock. It was still light enough for me to watch her red lips going up and down on my cock. I was getting close. "Jake, you can fill my mouth or I can get on my back and you can fill my twat." I pushed her head back down.

It was the most peaceful sleep I'd had in a long time.

The next morning, "Jake, do Americans call it pussy eating?"

"That's the usual phrase, why?"

"I just want to get comfortable using it."

"And I'd like to get comfortable with my tongue in your twat."

"You mean you'd like to eat my pussy."

"You might also get comfortable with ‘Jake, I'd love to suck your cock," I laughed.

We compromised. Amara wasn't familiar with the phrase 69, but over the week in the desert, we spent hours in the tent engaged in the practice.

Two weeks later I was on a plane home. Amara and I made no promises, but I was shocked a month later.

"Jake, I'm in New York. Dinner?" was the text.

"I'd prefer the taste of Ethiopia. Do you know where I can get some?"

THE END

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