Dilek's mind raced with a mixture of disbelief and arousal as Cecile casually admitted being passed around among the six native refugees. He wondered what kind of shameless nymphomaniac married wives could arrive at a refugee camp, knowing they would be teaching the next day, and so eagerly spread their legs for inhabitant freshmen they had just met. The thought of these easy lay teachers needing to be taught a lesson stirred something primal within him. As the village priest, he felt it was his duty to set them straight. His Sudanese beast of an African dong stiffened painfully into his pants, aching to teach the gorgeous stacked beauty seated before him a lesson she would never forget.
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