My friend is Sinforiano, from Cagaspurcio de la Sierra, a town that has now disappeared in the mountains of Burgos. I am Sisebuto, from El Boñigar, in the mountains of León. My friend has a fucking girlfriend who is from Senegal, beautiful and black as her own. She is called Paloma.

One Easter day, he found her in a Hostess Club in Belorado, Burgos. She asked him for money, and he told her: “Come with me.” To console her, on the way she recited some verses from his vintage:

Oh my black dove
That lost its loft
Now you will be a trembling shadow
From the pigeon of Cagaspurcio de la Sierra.

One day, we agreed to make her a barbecue on Mount Valonsadero, in Soria, where he promised to let me lie down with her “so that I would live in her the Memories of Africa.”

“Is it that you don’t love each other?” I asked my friend.

“Yes, we love each other,” he answered me. “What happens is that she is used to other pigeons squatting between her sheets.

“The dust with her will be at night,” my friend continued. “Christians in love do it at night, here as there.”

“Oh, friend of my heart, my rooster has never ridden a black hen,” I told him.

Came the day. After enjoying the barbecue, night came. My friend, addressing both of us, said:

“Goodbye, Black Dove, your feathers will be made of snow tonight, your pink clitoris will sing a happy song, you will go back to the heights because you are leaving with a graceful pigeon with whom you are going to truly enjoy.

“And you, friend Sisebuto, follow her, chase her, stalk her now, and fuck her next to the cave paintings, embrace her with your steel claws and stick your dick in her rosy lips until you die or kill.”

I nervously followed her to the cave paintings. There, she farted while she was taking off her underwear. Instead of scolding her, I told her:

“Announce love, which Sisebuto will give you.”

Good thing there was some moonlight. The mischievous Paloma made of me what she wanted. I did with her what I wanted.

“Have you seen the pussy of a black hen?” she asked me.

I replied:


“Well, look in my pussy; you will see all of Africa,” she answered.

I looked and I was delighted. Very willingly, she came to me. The tissues with which she cleaned herself, she kept for Sinforiano, who had a fetish of hanging them on the tip of her dick after the act.

I do not regret that my rooster mounted this hen; she didn’t cost me any money; seeing, with joy, that the sperm that she left kissed all her black hairs.

Back to where our friend was, he asked us:

“How did it go?”

“Superior,” she and I answered.

And then she:

“Oh, Sinforiano, it is fucking.”