Wednesday, 5 December 2012

I never saw her again




The Racma Lodge in Ruaha was opened about 4 years ago, I guess. It was built as a reasonable place to stay next to a kind of open-air pub. The pub used to be a very lively place, with wealthier Africans enjoying a Kenyan Tusker beer or a Tanzanian Safari brew. The nearby Kilombero Sugar Factory and extensive sugar plantations had brought some wealth to the area. I liked too the fact that you could eat pieces of goat meat cooked over charcoal to go with some chips or rice, if you wanted something to eat.

Last year there was only chicken and chips available and the place seemed quieter. This year it was deserted. I discovered that the locals were boycotting it because the woman owner had gone into politics and was viewed as very corrupt. Earlier in the year, my informant told me, some local people had torched some of the buildings.

I felt sad, remembering one of the bar girls, Mary. What had become of her? She was a lively character and took an interest in me. I had shared a few drinks with her and given her my phone number - to no avail on the first night. But on the second night, I was fast asleep when my phone rang. It was 11.30 p.m. I quickly guessed she was outside the door, and opened it cautiously - and she slipped into the room. 

The bed was a double bed and the mosquito net hung down around it. She used the bathroom and came and sat beside me. I was wearing some thin cotton shorts. She spoke little English but managed to convey that she was having her period. I reassured her, tried to teach her some English, took a few photos - though she did not pose well, and then gestured to her to lie down with me in her partially clothed state. 

Just having her there, I think, helped me sleep well - a living presence, a comfort.

I woke in the morning, hard and ready - like many males on waking. I reached for her and tried a few caresses but she would not stir. I needed to catch an early bus, so I headed for the bathroom, shaved and took a shower. 

As I reached for the towel, the bathroom door moved open and she appeared, wrapped from the waist down in her patterned cloth, naked from the waist up. I noted her small breasts and dark nipples. 

I took a step towards her, with the towel over my shoulder and my penis slightly tumescent from my earlier arousal and the stimulus of the shower. She reached towards me and took it in her hand and stroked it nicely, watching my face and my reaction. Soon I was fully erect and excited by her attention. She continued to look up at me as she worked me with her hand, one hand cupping my balls and caressing them, the other holding my phallus firmly but gently as she moved it up and down. It did not take too long before I was ready... and the deep-seated pumping sensation of an impending climax overwhelmed me. With a gasp, I shot a load of cum onto her. She smiled, pleased that she had brought relief. 

I turned the shower back on and cleaned up and calmed down. She wiped herself with a cloth. She helped me with the towel to dry off and then to get dressed, passing me each item of clothing. I checked my bags and she accompanied me to the door, taking my hold-all and pulling it on its wheels out of the hotel entrance and across the road to the bus stop. 

The air outside was fresh and few people were around. She stood by me me until the bus pulled up, the bus boy shouting its destination. I gave her a brief and awkward hug and clambered on board as my bags were stowed.  The bus pulled away with a throaty engine noise and a belch of diesel fumes. She waved. I waved too. And she was gone. 

I never saw her again.

Wednesday, 23 May 2012

Immersed in words

I turn on the gushing words
Filling the bath half-way
And watch as you strip
And step naked over the edge
Smiling secretly between your thighs
Then lifting the other
Before crouching onto the steamy verbs
That whisper with rippling excitement
Waiting to kiss your curvey pleasure
As you lower yourself onto them
Pushing them out of the way
While they smooch on your hips and your waist
Touching the smooth bare flesh
Flowing around your belly
Lapping under your pendulous breasts
Hot and wet on the soft round fullness
Hugging you as you look on down
Noting the nouns that lap you
Where your lips part in the heat
And the letters melt with delight
Pushing and jostling right under
Past the pretty pink flower and up
Between your rosy cheeks to surface
To breathe again in the humid air
And gaze at the tumbling hair
That flows down your back
Stirred like drunken adjectives
Swirling about as your hands reach to grab
Rushing to find a route to the front
Slopping against the enamelled sides
Scrambling to get there first to describe

Your parted legs and bright warm eyes.

Monday, 12 March 2012

In the morning air


In the morning air the breeze stirs the leaves
The clouds are tinged with pink
Your breath seems close
You in your cotton shirt
The window wide open
Your nipples pressing and showing through.

You smile at me
I come close, so close
That I take you in my arms
Kissing your warm neck
I look up at the mirror
Seeing my hands grasping
The back of your shirt
Your pink legs.

My tumescence feels awkward in my shorts
Your hands under my T-shirt
I cannot resist hiking your shirt
Seeing now your round bottom
Your slightly parted legs
And as I move to press my thigh
Onto your soft swollen lips
Your hand slides down my belly
Grasping my hardening cock.

I smell your warmth
Our eyes meet
Our mouths engage and tongues tango
I feel your moist sweetness on my leg
The softness of your hair
Your hand caressing

My brain whirls and blanks
I cry out as I hold you tight
And from the core of my soul
My seed shoots
Emptying into your hand

My leg pressed still on your wetness
Your breast against my chest
Your bottom clenched as you ride
Your sighs quickening into gasps
Your hand clutching tightly

As the curtain ruffles
And the air smiles and soothes
With its cool balm.