‘You missionary?’ The accent was thick but understandable. It didn’t matter, because the knife spoke clearly. My knowledge of Haiti was scarce, ...ut I knew that the Haitian people have one of two views on white missionaries. Most love them, they are rich people (by Haitian standards, almost everyone else is) bringing badly needed aid. But it was still okay to steal from them, because they were so very rich. The other view was from vodou practitioners. They hated the missionaries, violence wasn’t. Just as I’m drifting off to sleep, I feel a hand softly brushing my hair. So gentle, so soft, I’m not sure it’s there as I fall asleep. I wake later on, when it’s very cold in my room, I take my blankets and pillow to the fire, stoke it up, and curl up in front of it. I feel a body behind me, spooning me. I snuggle backwards and arms seem to enfold me. I sigh and drift off to sleep. The snowy whiteness glows behind my eyelids, when I feel something sticking in my back, much like Joe’s cock in. "I stood and made my way to the showers and heard David leave the tub behind me. Once in the communal shower room, I dropped my shorts and let the hot water run over me, eyes closed, head thrown back. "Daaaamn." I heard David whisper. My boycock stiffened even further at the compliment."Do you like what you see sir?" I asked, facing him, running my hands down my smooth hairless body. David stood opposite me in the room and dropped his own shorts, revealing his thick circumsized cock."You are a. Lips, tongue, teeth and tiny scratches from Frédérique's nails raised Fran's clitoris from dormancy over the years to stand proud and unshrouded. Each embrace by Frédérique's sexual repertoire brought Fran nearer to a sexual crescendo.Blood raced through her body. Her ears heard its roaring. Her eyes saw colour even though they were closed. Her back arched in a wonderful tetany. A long drawn out guttural cry creased the air until tempered into a long drawn out sigh.