This adult erotic adventure is just like the jungle, hot and steamy!
Tilda is a British spy sent on a mission to German East Africa in 1915. Unfortunately, her aircraft is blown up and although she survives the crash into the jungle, she loses her memory. Captured by native tribesmen, Tilda befriends Chief Mandai, whose stamina proves formidable. But he can’t save her from the dark machinations of the witchdoctor and she ends up tied to the sacrificial post. A combination of fate and her bravery pluck her from the clutches of death, and though her memory returns, she still finds herself in plenty of trouble.
She encounters a lascivious German patrol led by the depraved Sergeant Wolff; she becomes the plaything of Herta, the sex-mad wife of a German general; and she discovers oriental lovemaking from the suave Cambridge scholar Hassan, the leader of marauding Arab slavers. And while Tilda makes enemies of a number of British officers, she also befriends two British soldiers, Willie and Mick, and shares her bed with both.
Indeed, whoever she is thrust against, Tilda handles them with love, compassion, guile and, when necessary, her considerable sexual wiles.
Finally, they emerged into a clearing. Lianas draped down from the tall trees, some drooping into a large waterhole. Tilda eyed them suspiciously, in case one of them turned out to be a snake ... A couple of small antelope, dik-dik that might have strayed from their native savannah, stopped drinking and ran off into the thicket on the other side. ‘Joder!’ Perez cursed.
‘If only I could shoot them!’
‘Why can’t you, Master?’ He scowled. ‘Because we are still in enemy territory. One shot will perhaps bring them all down on us.’ ‘You must be very afraid of this enemy. The Germans, did you call them?’ He grabbed her upper arms and shook her. ‘Enrique Perez is afraid of no one!’ Even though his grip on her arms hurt and he shouted, she was surprised to realise she was no longer afraid of him.
But she was disturbed at the sudden change in his behaviour. He was volatile and she would have to be careful lest his temper erupted. She had a suspicion that a slave’s life was pretty worthless in this country. ‘You hear me?’ He shook her again and pushed her backwards up against a fallen tree that was lying horizontally. He twirled her round and forced her to bend over the trunk. ‘No one!’ ‘Yes, Master,’ she managed though the tree dug into her diaphragm.
She was surprised to feel an odd mixture of pleasurable anticipation and stomach-quivering fear as Perez pulled back her dress and exposed her buttocks. As his hand hit she let out a single cry and then kept silent. He smacked her hard to begin with, then more gently, varying the pattern so she couldn’t anticipate the slaps or their power. Already, the strange warmth was spreading, rushing around her groin and over her belly, even more pronounced than last time. She felt juices flowing down her thighs and her nipples were hardening against the dress bodice. She seemed to be moaning rather than groaning, Perez thought as he eyed the upturned inflamed twin globes. He pushed her further over the trunk and parted her buttocks and his tongue flicked over dry lips at the sight of her glistening, soft sex folds and the tightly wrinkled pit that seemed to twitch with need. ‘¡Dios!’ he exclaimed, releasing his turgid staff. He ran it up and down the silky cleft, dribbling and moaning. Hastily, breathing heavily, his thumb worked the pre-issue liquid into her tight hole. She was excited and shamed at the same time. He was invading her private passage. While earlier penetrations were unwelcome from him, there was at least a vague familiarity about the act and the emotions that swept over her. Yet this was something completely different. This was new and somehow shameful, and paradoxically in its own way quite thrilling. A fresh ripple of pleasure washed over Tilda as his thumb insinuated itself into her; she felt her face flushing as delightful tingling began in the pit of her stomach and swelled over the swollen bud of her clitoris and then surged like a great whirlpool throughout her body so she was oblivious of the hard tree trunk pressing against her rib-cage. ‘I’m afraid of no one, you hear me?’ he snarled as his glazed globe pressed the moist, tight entrance and then slid inside and this time she shrieked and there was an answering series of cries from the treetops. She was tight and he spent himself immediately. ‘I hear you, Master,’ she whimpered. He suddenly let go and she eased herself off the tree trunk. ‘Good. Just remember that.’ He quickly tucked his penis away. ‘You are nothing without me, your master. I provide for you.’ He cupped one of her breasts and rubbed a thumb over the fabric covering the nipple. The nipple was still hard despite queasiness in her stomach at his rough invasion of her most private orifice moments earlier. ‘And you pleasure me in return.’ ‘Yes, Master. I will pleasure you. You want more now?’ She half-turned, ready to kneel on all fours on the ground. He laughed. ‘That’s more like my slave!’ he barked. ‘No, I need to recover my strength. First, we will wash then eat and drink.’ She smiled, pleased, because her stomach had been rumbling for ages. ‘So we camp here for the rest of today and tonight, Master?’ Perez nodded. ‘Yes, I’m exhausted. We’ll rest and camp here.’
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