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.