Chpt.2 The Adventures of Zahina: A Novel

Chapter 2: The Adventures of Zahina

Mildred, in her electric green polyester suit, stood quietly while her purebred poodle, Mr. Binkly, relieved himself on the fire hydrant; the passing black cadillac, just another car as it sped along. Zahina, stared as the streets of Los Angeles rolled by the cadillac’s windows.

Mr. Meyer’s was a wonderful man. She had been excited, yet anxious about travelling with this famous producer to America. For a girl who had never been more than a few miles outside of her native village, travelling by airplane to America was a world away. Mr. Meyer’s had reassured her though. When she had been nervous on the plane he had given her a glass of wine. She had never had wine before, but it sure helped.

During the flight he had explained how she would live with him in the guest quarters of the house. Until she was famous anyway and was able to buy her own home. Zahina was trying to imagine a house large enough to hold two families and just shook her head at the thoughts of buying her own house; nobody had that much money. Now seeing the mansions in Los Angeles, she understood how two families could live in one house. Her entire village could live in one of these houses!

They pulled into a long driveway and stopped at the front door of a large house. Mr. Meyer’s showed her to her suite at the back. She couldn’t believe it was all for her. There was a large bedroom with an ensuite bath; her own kitchen; a living room and another washroom. This was more room than she had ever had.

Russ watched as Zahina walked through the suite wide-eyed. She was still wearing the long white skirt and tan top that she had worn at the convent, but she had a dark brown and yellow wrap on as well. All of which did nothing to hide her great boobs. She was totally oblivious to the affect she had on the crew and men in general. She hadn’t even notice that most of the men in the Los Angeles Airport had stopped moving to watch her walk by.

He opened the french doors in the living room and showed her out onto the patio area of the pool. Her eyes had widened in wonder at the sight of such a large amount of clean water. He still found it astounding, how sheltered she had been all these years. Everything was new to her. “So, Zahina, I will leave you to unpack. I believe your bags are in your room now.” She looked puzzled, concentrating. He explained again, using his limited Swahili. He told her that William, his steward, would come and get her for lunch in about an hour. She was still gazing around as he walked away and left her to her discoveries.

After their lunch on the patio by the pool, Russ explained to her about her duties around the house and his office. Until she was famous, she would work as his house-keeper at home and his assistant at the office. That was fine with her; she was not a stranger to work and did not expect to live here for free.

She asked Mr. Meyer’s “I wear uniform as howze-keeper?” Her english was getting better, but still needed work. He looked puzzled, so she pointed at William the house-steward as he brought over another pitcher of lemonade. “Like Willyum, wear uniform as howze-keeper?”

William was wearing light, tan pants and a matching tan shirt with a small crest ‘Meyer’s Productions’ on the front. Russ thought quick “Yes, yes of course you will. I will have it brought around for you this afternoon!” His mind was racing with the possibilities. Zahina smiled, apparently she liked the idea.

It took a couple phone calls, but he had a french maid’s costume delivered to the house from the studio.Russ knocked on her suite door and Zahina answered. His eyes took in her large bosom then looked up to her eyes and he smiled “I have your uniform!”

Zahina smiled and clapped “Uniform! Yes! Happy!” She took it from Mr. Meyer’s and skipped off to the bedroom to change, closing the door. She laid the outfit onto the bed and took it out of the plastic. She pulled the dress off the hanger and held it up to her and looked in the mirror. Well that can’t be right. She carried it back out into the living room.

She held it out to Mr. Meyer’s “Not my size. Too small.”

Mr. Meyer’s made no move to take it “Too small? Hold it up in front of you.” She held it up, the look on her face, even in Swahili, saying see? It’s too small. He shook his head, “No, that’s the right size.”

She let her hands fall, a confused look on her face. He smiled, motioned for her to follow “Come here Zahina. I’ll show you.” He led her into his den and searched on his computer ‘babes in maid costumes’. The search results were full of gorgeous babes with large cleavage dressed in skimpy maid outfits.

Her pointed to the monitor “See, these are all house keepers dressed in their uniforms.”

Zahina was staring at the screen in disbelief. She finally straightened up and shaking her head observed “America ladies dress funny.” She looked back at the monitor again. She pointed “Howz-keepers?”

Russ smiled and nodded “They sure are and they make a lot of money.”

That was good enough for Zahina. She gave a little nod and headed back down the hall to her suite to get changed. She scolded herself, she could hear Sister Margret’s voice in her head, Zahina you are now in America. Things may seem strange to you, but if you want to be a famous movie star, you need to listen to Mr. Meyer’s.

A short while later, as Russ sat sipping a Caesar at the kitchen bar, Zahina returned. He managed to catch his jaw from dropping to the floor, but his eyes got huge as he stared at her. She was standing just inside the kitchen doorway, her arms crossed and folded across her chest, trying, unsuccessfully, to cover her ample bosom.

She had her head bowed forward, her eyes peering at him from under her hair, the embarassment plain on her face. He registered her discomfort, but all he could see was her little feet in the black flats she wore. The creamy chocolate brown of her shapely legs, her calves a lovely curve. Her fleshy thighs moved up under the short black skirt of her maid costume; leaving the imagination to wonder what lay beneath that thin cloth as it splayed out in frills. The centerpiece that caught his eye though was her massive chest.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her breasts. He had asked the tech at the studio to send over a maid’s costume with the biggest bust he could find, but this one was still too small and he liked it. The top of the dress was strapless and he was certain she would pop out with the slightest movement  Her chocolate brown skin looked tasty and smooth as it worked up her slim neck. Shaking his head, he cleared his throat and sat back down, picking up his drink. “You look great Zahina! You look like a real American house-keeper.”

She lifted her head slowly “Real?” She looked hopeful, “Real Professional?” She had dropped her arms and was now clasping her hands together. Which placed her arms on each side of her boobs and she was completely unaware that she was pressing her boobs in tight. She was so engrossed in the fact that she looked like a real house-keeper.

The effect wasn’t lost on Russ, he smiled “Are you kidding? Twirl around a bit. Spin around.” She was grinning as she put her arms out and spun on one foot. Her skirt flared out and Russ was certain he saw her cheeks. He knew she didn’t wear a bra, but was she wearing panties? What was the custom in Zambia? He couldn’t wait to find out.

Satisfied that she looked like a professional house-keeper she started her chores around the house. Russ followed her around for a while, watching her whole body in motion as she worked. He told her they could practise english while she worked. They talked, but Russ was lost in the vision of her boobs.

He was snapped back to reality by his cell phone ringing. He answered it while Zahina was dusting in the living room. It was one of the guys from the crew, Gary, with a quick question. Russ answered his questions, his eyes never leaving Zahina. Gary finally hung up as Zahina leaned way over to windex and wipe down the glass coffee table. Russ never even thought, he opened the camera app on his phone and got a great snap of her huge cleavage.

“Who that?” Russ jumped at the sound. She had asked him a question and was looking at him. He stammered as she went back to wiping down the table, the motion of her arm making her boobs sway back and forth. Regaining his composure, he told her it was just Gary with some questions. As he talked he turned on the video. She was totally oblivious to what he was doing. After all, she had just learned what a telephone was. She had no idea the cababilities of a smart-phone.

Discovering that he could take pictures and video of her while she worked without her suspecting a thing, he spent the next hour getting great footage; until his phone beeped. He looked at the screen: ‘Memory Card Full’; damn. He excused himself and went off to his office to download all the pictures and videos onto his main system.

He was going through all his great captures and could feel his cock growing. He scanned the video he had gotten, trying to get an upskirt of her, but it was dark and tough to discern anything. He started thinking about the idea though, of standing next to her, teaching her english, staring down her cleavage, his other hand holding his camera under her skirt.

It was too much, he undid his pants and pulled his throbbing cock out and started to stroke it, flipping through all the great photos he got of her. Damn she had great tits!

“Mr. Meyer’s?”

He froze; his head turned slowly to see her standing in the doorway. She had a puzzled look on her face; she could see everything. “What you doing? Are okay?” Her look had changed to concern. Before he could respond, she had walked over and was looking into his lap “What that?” She pointed at his erection.

His embarassment had changed to disbelief. He knew she grew up in a convent full of women, but she had to know what a cock was; she had to have seen at least one in her life. “Well, it’s a..” he hesitated. This was a golden opportunity. “It’s called a cock Zahina. Can you say cock?”

She looked up at him and then back down into his lap “Cock.” She looked up, smiling, proud of herself “Cock!”

He smiled, amazed at how easy this was. He nodded and pointed to his dick “Men have cocks; women have pussy.” He pointed toward her skirt and the treasure hidden below. “Can you say pussy?”

She was so proud of herself. She was learning english! She had no idea what Mr. Meyer had been doing when she walked in, but now she was learning! He had the strangest thing sticking out of his pants. He called it a cock; she loved english words. What was he doing; he was pointing at her panya. “Pussee?” She was confused again; her brow furrowed in thought. She tried again, “Pussy.” Her face lit up, she pointed at his cock “Cock!” then at herself “Pussy!”

The new words wore off quickly as she remembered what he was doing when she walked in. She got a concerned look on her face again “Why rub..” She pointed at his lap “Why rub cock?”

Thinking fast, he said the first thing that came to his mind “The doctor! My doctor said I should rub it everyday.” He smiled, hoping she wouldn’t be freaked out.

She knew what a doctor was though, “Oh! Sick? You sick?” Her concern turning to sympathy. She was leaning forward now, on hand on his shoulder, her other covering her mouth as she peered at his cock. Sister Margret had gotten sick once and a doctor had come from the city to help her. She had almost died. Zahina had been so scared.

Russ tried to look sincere, hoping to turn this into something good “I am sick Zahina. My doctor said I have too much stress in my life.” She looked puzzled. Switching to his limited Swahili “um... Mimi na dhiki. Shinikizo kubwa mno..” She nodded her head, understanding. He did his best to look sad “So I have to release the pressure every day.”

Zahina patted his shoulder “It okay. You be alright, okay?” Her mighty cleavage being inches from his face and all this touching and patting had his cock responding. It started to twitch and she exclaimed at the sight of it bouncing. “Oh! Banua!” She was pointing at his dancing cock “Banua! Release pressure!” The concerned look on her face was priceless. Time to make his play.

He sighed and looked down “I was trying, but my arm hurts. I can’t do it today.” He waited. Would she take the bait? He stole a side glance at her and he could see the wheels turning.

The poor man! She couldn’t imagine why Sister Margret worked so hard to keep her away from men. This man was so nice and he was sick. He needed help. But what could she do, she wasn’t a doctor. His arm hurt so he couldn’t even release the pressure of his sickness. She pictured him when she walked in, he had been moving his hand quickly, probably because his arm hurt, trying to release the pressure. It almost looked like the same motion she used when she used to milk the Mbuzi or goats back home. Then her face lit up with a great idea.

She leaned forward in her excitement, a hand on each shoulder, her ample bosom in plain view inches from his nose as she spoke excitedly. “I help! Zahina can help! I release pressure. Like Mbuzi. Same.” She looked hopeful.

Inside Russ was cheering and celebrating. With a little grin, he looked up slowly “Really? You would help me? You can release the pressure?” She nodded, a huge smile on her face. Not missing a beat, he moved over to the couch and sat down, motioning her over. She made to sit down and he stopped her suggesting it might be easier if she knelt in front of him. Without a thought, she knelt down and moved in close to the couch between his legs. He leaned back to watch.

Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure. She was always quick to jump, wanting to help people. But she hadn’t really thought this one through. His cock was sticking out of his pants, leaning over to the side a bit. Steeling her nerve, she reached out slowly. Her fingers slowly wrapped around the shaft and Russ put his head back, his eyes still watching.

It was warm and surprisingly, felt similar to the Mbuzi back home. It was warm and squishy, but she giggled, it was getting harder in her hand, she could feel it growing. Smiling now, realizing that it wasn’t that bad, she moved her hand up, her slender fingers examining the head;  it was a funny shape. Mr. Meyer moaned a bit, reminding her that she was supposed to be helping. She chided herself, while she was wondering over his cock, he was sick with pain. She closed her hand around his cock again and started moving it up and down.

He couldn’t believe how good her hand felt. He had had many hand-jobs in his life, but this

was un-believable. She actually thought she was helping him feel better; which she certainly was. She was concentrating hard on what she was doing. Her huge tits shaking back and forth were beautiful. He could feel the pressure building in his balls. It was going to be over quick, but with this beauty jacking his cock, it was inevitable.

“That’s working really well Zahina. I think the pressure is about to be released. Go a little faster.” She sped up, her body leaning forward as her hand milked his cock. He smiled, knowing she was in for a surprise leaning in that close.

She was so happy to be helping; her hand was a flurry. Suddenly, he groaned and his body stiffened. White stuff started shooting out of his cock. “OH!” She chirped, some had shot onto her cheek. She kept her hand moving though, his cock now slick with the gooey stuff. Finally, he reached down and held her wrist, asking her to stop.

She sat back, a happy, but surprised look on her face. She could feel a gob of stuff running down her cheek to her chin and she wiped it off leaving it smeared across her cheek. “Feel better?” He had his eyes closed with his head back; he was smiling, so she figured it must have worked.

His whole body was tingling. The sight of his first shots splattering her face was too much and his body had shook with an intensity as his orgasm went on and on. Now a sereneness had settled over his being. His eyes were closed, but he heard her get up and leave the room. She returned a moment later and he felt her clean him up with a warm cloth.

He opened his eyes to see her standing there with a satisfied smile on her face. “Very good Zahina. You did very well.” She beamed at this. Russ noticed wet spots on her boobs and her dress. “Why don’t you relax for the rest of the day. I believe you’ll find a bathing suit in your rooms. Why don’t you relax by the pool?”

After she left, he got up and made himself another drink. Not long after, he saw through the kitchen window, Zahina walk out onto the patio wearing a blue, one-piece bathing suit. His eyes drawn to her huge tits. He toasted her in silence, happier than he had ever been.