That skirt hugged her hips snugly. She unlocked the door, stepped in, I closed it behind me, and turned to find she hadn't moved but turned to face me.... Our eyes met, her lips parted. Whether she was going to speak, I never found out as my lips covered hers and our arms wrapped around each other. Her breast flattened against my chest sending electrical impulses throughout my entire body. The kiss seemed to last an eternity with neither of us in a hurry to break it. I wanted to cup and caress her. He did this for a few minutes before pulling out of her and squirting his cum over her breast and he ordered her to lick and suck the last few drops from his cock and as she did this her orgasm took over her and she started to squirt cum over the floor and she had to brace herself with her hand on either wall to stop herself from falling over.He then order her to stand up and bend over in front of him which she struggled to do but did as she was told and got into position. He moved in close. She soon decided that African men were horny, but no problem if 'treated right'. It is strange how you get accustomed to the way people behave. Rape was a serious risk for any white woman in Zambia. Whenever we went out I was always careful to check the mirrors to be sure we were not being followed back to our villa. I tried to drive home to Paula the constant risk. She made a game of it, found it amusing. Not just the behaviour of the African men, but also teasing me.Social life in Zambia went. Lucky. Dumb and lucky. Cold day yesterday, too. Did some field work from the back seat of abandoned taxi cab parked illegally in front of dumpster on one-way between Lorbo and Nolan Ave. Got impatient waiting for what cocaine-addict said was major organized crime event. Couldn’t say what. Figured drug buy, maybe hit, nothing difficult. Should have known by chill that first mistake was the assumption. Breath fogs up window, helps conceal contents of taxi. Hardest part of job is looking.