Curt Stevens, feeling as if the world had finally come to his feet, carried his attache case toward the boarding area. In just hours he would be in Colombia. Harriett, his new live-in girlfriend, carried a bag of goodies they had bought in the shop for his flight. To Harriett, Curt seemed generally happy, although he had his brooding moments when Harriett knew he was thinking of Kim. No matter, she thought, Kim is gone forever. He's mine now, and I know how to treat him, in bed as well as out of bed.
Yes, Curt was still working for Ike Harvey. Being the honest, naive person he was, he had not blamed his boss for the corruption of his young bride. He actually seemed to feel grateful to Ike for having helped him find out what a "filthy slut" she was, and he usually seemed quite happy with Harriett.
He and Ike had become friendly, often lunched together, and the older man had finally come to the realization that Curt Stevens was a very good man to have around indeed. In fact, he had commissioned Curt to go to Colombia and arrange fifty kilos of cocaine for Khumalo's next trip.
Yes, from Harriett's point of view, things almost couldn't be better. Except for the nights when Curt cried in his sleep, groaning Kim's name.
Bernard Khumalo stood by the helm of his yacht, watching the western bulge of the African continent rise on the horizon. It had been a lovely trip, though not at all profitable. Before he approached the Angolans he would have to make a business call in Algeria, and then figure out a way of smuggling his goods with better success.
Down below in one of the cabins, he heard Sue moaning as she indulged herself with Bernard's two Mozambiquan assistants, Taubo and Philemon, those who had given Kim such a spectacular double-shagging at the Silver Towers a month before.
Kim was down below on the deck. She had a beautiful, all-over tan, inasmuch as she had worn no clothing on deck during the day since the day they had run from the Coast Guard. Khumalo had forbade her to wear anything during daylight hours. The penalty for disobedience was a withholding of food.
Khumalo thought she was more beautiful than ever. Her positive disposition had kept her spirits up and she was easy to get along with, laughing, joking, and playing with the crew. And, when Khumalo didn't need her for himself, making love to them when they wanted her. Of course, no one took precedence over the dog, Stud. He was too dangerous to cross.
Even now Kim was kneeling on the lower deck while the dog mounted her, finding her wet pussy with his angry looking cock and starting to fuck her immediately. Kim was soon moaning with pleasure and moving her lovely ass in the expert way she had learned to do for the dog over the past month. The girl never discussed her husband and almost never seemed to be moody about losing him. Almost never. Right now she seemed quite happy to be crouched before the rutting dog who was taking his bestial pleasure with her.
She seemed quite happy.
Bernard Khumalo, listening to the feminine moans of enjoyment coming from the various parts of the craft, smiled, thinking of all the people he had made happy.
He was such a nice guy.