Interview (Introductory fragment of the story)

[Storyteller]

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n Abrafo Milla greeted the writer with a white-toothed smile. He approached and, gallantly bowing his head, kissed the woman’s hand. Anna glanced around the room. The room, or rather, a small hall, seems empty and practically devoid of furniture. The middle of the hall is occupied by two luxurious armchairs placed opposite each other, and a serving table on wheels is laden with drinks for every taste. That’s practically all there is to catch the eye. True, huge mirrors in the niches between the curtained windows and a pair of Chinese floor vases with images of fighting dragons also attract attention. Antique porcelain from the Meiji era - silent guards at the entrance, like Swiss Guards in the service of Pontifex Maximus.

The businessman invited the lady to sit down and he himself freely sat down opposite. The African is dressed in a floor-length homemade robe and sandals on his bare feet. Anna had a lot of questions, and, above all, she was very worried about the signed contract. The writer can’t wait to find out what is hidden behind the mysterious phrase “Erotic performance” and what role the organizers have prepared for the lady in it.

– Mr. Milla, let me ask you a few personal questions at the beginning of the conversation, - Anna carefully selects her words, - they concern only me.

- For you, Signora Wenger, within the walls of this room I am just Abrafo, - Milla shows the very courtesy and cordiality, - you can ask any questions.

– I was actually forced to sign an agreement, I would like to know what the Erotic Performance is and when it will take place. – Anna asks direct questions and expects to receive equally clear answers.

The influential African smiled slyly. Regarding the white, Russian lady, he has his own, very specific, plans, partly, of course, mercantile ones as well. But it was decided to play in the dark as a writer, and therefore Milla answered evasively.

– Dear Anna, let me call you that. The celebration will take place tomorrow evening. – Abrafo poured himself an aperitif and offered the woman a choice of drinks.

– As for the Erotic Performance, I, of course, could tell you everything, but then the effect of surprise will disappear, in other words, the very tsimes will be lost, do you understand me? - the businessman quickly wants to move on to the other part of the interview.

- No, I don’t understand, - the vague answers of the influential gentleman are somewhat annoying, the writer continues to ask, - what will happen after this show?
– You will be taken to the hotel, and you can return home. Passport and plane ticket, everything is ready. - Milla smiled, - this is the little that I can still do for you.

The lady hesitated a little, thinking about the next question; The African took advantage of this, seizing the initiative.

– Could you, Anna, do a little favor for old Abrafo? – The black gentleman began his speech mysteriously.

– A favor? What kind do you mean, Signor Milla? - the writer tries to read in the mischievous eyes where this elderly African is going.

- For you, Anna, this will not cost anything, mere trifles, - Milla says easily and naturally, - I I want to look at you without clothes.

The lady was slightly taken aback, she, of course, played out this option in her head, but Abrafo so innocently, so simply uttered a shameless phrase, as if he was asking for a cup of tea or a bowl of sweets.

– Do I have to do this, Mr. Milla? – the writer is trying to give the conversation an official tone. – We agreed only on the interview. It seems to me that such a request is inappropriate.

“You are beautiful, Anna, let me admire you too,” the businessman showers him with compliments, “undress and let’s start our conversation; Believe me, I will do everything to satisfy your curiosity. Please also satisfy my humble request.

The woman understands that one way or another, this elderly, lustful black man will get what he has, she is in his house and in his power. Anna reluctantly rose from her chair and embarrassedly exposed her tanned shoulders; her light dress obediently slipped to the floor. “To hell with him, let him see, he won’t get away from me,” the writer convinces herself, trying to calm down the inner trembling and surging excitement.

Abrafo is captivated: the man is delighted by the mature beauty of a naked white woman. His voluptuous, sticky gaze felt the heavy, slightly saggy breasts with large areolas of pink nipples, went down to his plump tummy and buried himself in the red triangle of curly hair.

“Charming,” the African sang unctuously.

Milla, despite his build and age, surprisingly easily rose from his chair and, like a Satyr, approached the newly-minted Nymph. Wide “black” male palms gently and at the same time touch the woman’s body in a possessive manner. So, probably, a collector strokes a porcelain figurine dear to his heart, afraid of dropping the jewel on the floor. Or, perhaps, this is how the god-kissed sculptor touches his creation, saying goodbye on the last sleepless night, before in the morning her, the Goddess (the sculpture prayed for by hard work), is taken away by a vulgar and greedy usurer.

nConflicting experiences torment a woman. On the one hand, it is shameful and humiliating to stand naked in the middle of the room, in front of a barely familiar lustful male. The lady understands that, most likely, she will not get off today with simple strokes. On the other hand, Anna has not yet cooled down after the massage; her inflamed flesh requires continuation. And Abrafo Mill’s palms are so gentle, persistent in a good way. The woman both fears and wants to feel strong male hands.

An elaborate esthete studies Anna’s body like a blind man touches Braille, tries to remember every indentation, afraid to miss a hollow or roundness. The black Satyr wrapped his arms around his full, wide hips, selflessly squeezing his lush, fleshy buttocks. The palms flew up the back, and now they were openly kneading the exciting breasts, playing with hardened nipples, either slightly pulling or squeezing the sensual flesh between their fingers. The right hand easily slid down the tummy and plunged into the curls of red hair. The index finger, gently touching the hardened clitoris, effortlessly opened the drooping, engorged labia minora and freely penetrated into the hot womb full of cupid juices.

– Oh-oh-oh... Please, no do this,” the writer sensually begged, rather mechanically, while the body electrified with sexual energy convinces of the opposite.

The woman shudders, the man’s imperious finger crawls into the innermost. How a wet vagina slurps treacherously. Anna is ashamed in these painful and sweet moments, she is disgusted with herself. It flows like the last bitch, ready to lift up her tail for the first male that comes along.

Abrafo removed his finger from the opened hole, he was abundantly enveloped in the sticky discharge of an excited human female. Milla raised his hand to his face and, with the air of a connoisseur and connoisseur, inhaled the slightly tart, slightly sweet and intoxicating aroma of a woman ready for intercourse.

– How wet you are, and you smell great, – Abrafo looks into the writer’s eyes, slightly clouded with lust. – Tomorrow you will become the star of the show, the audience will be delighted.

– The audience? – Anna wanted to continue the clarifying question, but at that moment her sensual, slightly open lips were touched, slimy with juices, by the pointing finger of an African.

“Lick him,” Milla gently but demandingly commands.

Anna didn’t even notice that she took it into her mouth. The nimble tongue, diligently licking the viscous amorous nectar, strives to please the black gentleman.

Milla settled more comfortably in the chair, lifted his national shirt higher, exposing his plump thighs, and spreading his legs, turned to the standing in the middle of the hall to a naked lady.

– Anna, dear, let’s not waste time, and let’s start our interview, – Abrafo speaks soulfully and simply, – you will please me with your sugar mouth , and I will read out your questions and answer.

The woman looks at the overgrown groin of the African. His plump penis twitches invitingly, as if inviting Anna to continue the spicy acquaintance, and his owner has already prepared a piece of paper with questions and is looking impatiently at the lady. My legs feel weak and it is unbearable to continue standing. After taking a couple of steps, the woman obediently knelt down, finding herself right between the businessman’s plump legs. Anna is trying to hide the feeling of shame, awkwardness in her movements and tremulous excitement, which so inappropriately gripped her entire sensual nature. “In the end, I’m here to do an interview,” an inner voice reassures the writer, “so why am I delaying, I have to take it...”

The lady lifted her penis and the ring with her gentle fingers wet lips tightly wrapped around the black fleshy head. While Anna, smacking her lips, caresses her tongue and sucks the erect organ, the African reads out the questions he had prepared the day before and answers speculatively, trying not to completely lose his composure. The woman tries, putting all her accumulated experience into the blowjob, but still the interview is not easy for the writer. When madam tries to delve into the businessman’s answers, she is involuntarily distracted from her immediate, sweet occupation. At the same time, when a woman focuses on oral sex with rapture and passion, the meaning of what Mr. Milla said irreversibly eludes understanding. Anna is tormented by this dichotomy, and finally she decides to finally and completely surrender to the process of pleasing a man. Moreover, the businessman’s answers are becoming more and more confusing and allegorical. And when Abrafo suggested that the lady not restrain herself and caress the flowing womb, the woman swam away completely, forgetting about the original purpose of the visit. Delicate fingers easily slide into the slimy, hot with lust slit, confidently pushing you to the pinnacle of pleasure. The woman feels with her tongue how hard and unbending the black oud has become. At the same time, its dimensions do not seem gigantic, and Anna defines the thickness as quite acceptable. The writer diligently tries to swallow the penis completely, and after the second or third attempt the lady succeeds. Now the whole woman, right to the root, pushes her head onto the inflamed organ, feeling how the hot head slips into her very throat. Anna rhythmically swallows the phallus, resting her blushing face against the coarse hair of her black groin. The writer goes into a frenzy, catches herself judging: a banal blowjob is already exciting; feeling the heaving flesh is a special pleasure. God, the gentle fingers seem to have gone mad, having found the will, they are frantically chasing their own freedom - they are forcing the flaming womb. Anna is on the very edge, the last step to the top or a step into the abyss, a sweet anticipation of reward.

Deep throat finally broke the businessman, he threw away the paper with questions, rose from his chair and wrapped his wide palm around the ready the inflamed organ is about to explode. Anna hospitably opened her sensual mouth and, sticking out her tongue, she herself is on the verge of release. And so, when the first viscous drops watered the tongue, when the woman, swallowing, felt the tart seed slowly enveloping the larynx, Anna was overcome by a long orgasm.

The writer slowly slides to the floor, pressing her palms to the hot womb , the legs tremble slightly, and the heated body unconsciously assumes the fetal position. For a few more sweet minutes, Anna is in the captivating power of bliss.

“Signora Wenger, should I pour you some of the drinks,” the influential gentleman inquired delicately.
Abrafo Milla, as before, relaxed in a chair, with his legs crossed, sipping a new portion of aperitif. A man likes to look down on a white lady; naked and empty, she sits on the floor after a bright, deep orgasm. The woman’s gaze is still cloudy, and the venerable signor reads patriarchal humility in her dull eyes. Abrafo Milla enjoys the moment, savoring it. Anna is in his power and is ready to fulfill any whim, and even lust. And this feeling of refined superiority is more captivating and sweeter than the animal act; Milla is looking forward to tomorrow evening and an erotic performance thought out to the smallest detail.

The woman really wants to wash down the sticky, specific taste of African seed.

– Pour me some wine , please.

When Milla held out a glass of drink, Anna involuntarily caught her gaze on the lonely silver ring on the index finger of her right hand. The woman observes the jewelry up close for only a few moments, but they are enough to recognize it. The frame in the shape of an eye includes a round stone of yellow amber - the iris, into which a black diamond is skillfully inserted - the vertical pupil. And the precious eye itself is enclosed in the arms of Ouroboros.

The writer quenched her thirst. And, gathering her thoughts, she wanted to ask the businessman about the strange decoration on his hand. But the African stood up defiantly, making it clear with all his appearance that the audience was over.

– Signora Wenger, we will assume that our interview satisfied both parties, – Milla gave Anna a radiant smile, – but I have to take my leave. Have a nice sleep. Yes, a servant will escort you to the apartment.

Abrafo Milla slightly bowed his head and left the hall without looking back.

Again it all ended somehow wrong , as the writer planned. She rose heavily from the floor and pulled her national dress over her sweaty body. The woman approached the mirror. The face is covered in whitish streaks of semen, the lascivious gaze seems detached. Using napkins, Anna hastily erased the traces of the exclusive interview. The lady drank another half glass of cool wine. I took a farewell look at the numerous mirrors in the hall. It seems to the woman that the reflections are looking at each other and looking sideways at the disheveled original with condemnation. Cursing, the writer left the hall. An arrogant servant is patiently waiting for Anna in the corridor, a disdainful grin hiding in the corners of her lips.

Having returned to the apartment, the woman first took a shower. Dinner turned out to be more than modest - some fruit, juices, mineral water. Anna fell into bed, trying to put together the puzzles of the mysterious mosaic. Lydia’s amulet, Weidman’s ring, the eye painted on the wall of the pre-trial detention center, and now there is also a jewel on Abrafo Milla’s hand. Is this all a series of random coincidences or something more? There is clearly not enough information...

Anna didn’t even notice how, thinking, she dozed off, slowly falling into a deep but disturbing sleep.

An introductory fragment is presented story:
“The Lost Illusions of Questionable Virtue”
Author: Storyteller VladЪ
Full text of the book on the resource: LitCity

Sent after 17 minutes 10 seconds:
Instead of annotation:
The book includes three parts plus an epilogue.
I Part – Occult Society of Initiates.
II Part – Travel to the African continent.
III Part – Christmas Masquerade Ball.
Can a modern independent lady, plunging into a whirlpool of fatal, dramatic events, remain the same?
And to make the literary dish piquant, the author seasoned the dish with scenes of frank eroticism and sophisticated violence.
Mysticism weaves like a red thread and weaves all parts of the story.
Epilogue is a euphistic dessert that slowly penetrates awareness, leaving a pleasant aftertaste...