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Here is my third part of the story at last – it will make more sense if you start at One. My thanks for your patience. “As you from crimes would pardon’d be, Let your indulgence set me free.” And as always, please vote or comment if you like it. Thanks!
This has been a legitimately intense day. From the get-go.
Mwali’s alarm went off in the darkness. Her phone played its little tune a few times before I worked out what it was. I reached over her shoulders, grabbed the thing and tapped it a few times before it stopped.
That was all by reflex. I don’t think I woke up, but anyway I couldn’t make sense of where I was. The time was wrong, the moonlight was wrong, the bed was wrong… It was warm and soft, there was someone here… Mwali.
I could dimly make out her smooth back, the curve of her hips, the subtle smell of her skin and her sex. Memories floated through my mind, of making love, with her, for the first time, laughing, crying, romping with her. I smiled to myself in admiration for actually remembering some Shakespeare to quote to her. Mwali of course had lots.
The second time. In my life. In the quiet night, whispering secrets to each other.
Then the warm slipping, holding each other, falling asleep together.
Then there I was, totally confused by the jingle of her alarm, sitting up in a strange bed.
Our plan was that I would get up and go home around dawn, get organised for school and somehow take it from there. Yeah, it wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all we had. I stumbled out of bed and groped around for my clothes. I shuffled out of the bedroom, only missing one sock, but couldn’t remember where we’d left our school bags…
Mine was propped by the door. I remembered I’d got my laptop out to start some homework – I never actually opened it, Mwali distracted me when she led me into her bedroom. The laptop was now back in its sleeve, in my bag, waiting for me at the door.
Not really thinking about it, I walked out and down the road to the bus stop. The pre-dawn light gave everything a soft, muted version of the strong, bright colours we are used to in Australia. The air was cool, with a promise of heat later on. Dewy grass and flowering bushes scented the air. The traffic was still a quiet murmur before the day got going.
My body snapped from groggy not-really-awake-yet, to every sense speaking to me, from my feet pressing the ground to the faint breeze on my face. I brushed a lavender bush as I passed and the scent washed over me. I had a sense I would never forget every detail of the quiet morning. That old Hunters & Collectors song, Throw your Arms Around Me came to me and I laughed as I sang.
You will make me laugh and make me cry
And we will never forget it
You will make me call your name
And I’ll shout it to the blue summer sky…
What was coming over me?
I did forget a few details. I must have rushed into my house, grabbed some clothes and some breakfast, talked to mum and got my usual bus to school. I turned up, but I still don’t remember exactly how.
And school was a daze. I normally pride myself in having a smart-arse answer tailor-made for each of my teachers, but today, I’m not sure if I even spoke. I can’t remember if anyone asked me anything, so maybe I looked so weird they just backed off. Or else they did ask, and I’ve lost all memory. It’s possible.
At lunch I went to my bag, then remembered I hadn’t organised anything. That was a jolt. Mum usually gets stuff out and she and I make a sandwich or three (She makes jokes about how much I eat while I stay thin – which is a good way to annoy your sister!). Did I have any money to get something?
There was a lunch there. Mwali’s mum (I guess) had made something and put it safely in the bag for me. It was chick peas and some cold meat; not my normal, but what was normal, today?
Just as school ended the phone buzzed. “Hope not forgotten catch up after school mum”
I had totally forgotten.
The coffee with mum was… interesting, shall we say. There’s a nice place near her work, with excellent orange cake.
We talked. About small stuff at first. But that obviously wasn’t what the catch up was about. Mum was bursting to give me a long session, I could tell, with lots of probing and kindly advice, but to her credit she held it in. I’d mentioned Mwali and the Shakespeare stuff once or twice at home. It would’ve been obvious I was enjoying the friendship (actually doing a bit of homework was a bonus for the parents) and I was sure casino oyna she’d joined the dots after me not coming home last night.
The tricky bit came at last: “You know we love you and we care for you…”
“We would want you to love and care for your… friends. Treat them, properly, respectfully.”
A pause. Thank you mum for looking out the window.
“I get that. I promise. This whole thing, it’s special. It’s totally caught me by surprise. I’m, I’m sorry I didn’t let you know and stuff- “
She cut me off with a wave. “Don’t apologise. Just be a decent, careful person. With us. With her. And take precautions!”
I was caught by surprise again and I laughed. It lightened the mood. Mum, you’re the best.
“Don’t think I can’t recognise that twinkle in your eye! She must be very special, wooing you with Shakespeare! I probably would’ve liked to meet her first. And maybe even her parents, eh? I’m, I’m trusting you… you be as good as I hope we’ve brought you up to be.”
She paused and took a swallow.
“I will say this much. I would like to meet Mwali’s parents soon. And you’d better keep up with your schoolwork!”
I felt my eyes pricking.
A text arrived. It was Mwali, inviting me to dinner at her house. I guessed she’d had “the talk” as well as me.
It was a moment. I looked up at mum. She was smiling but uncertain, struggling. She was wanting to let me go but wanting to hold on to me. How close was it to my thoughts!
She guessed who it was. “Mwali?” she said.
“Yeah. Dinner, with the family…”
She laughed. “I think I like her parents already! Well, she got in first. Off you go, but I need you home tonight! And you owe me a dinner – two if I count last night!”
Mum had tried her hardest not to be awkward. She’d done an OK job. She kissed me as I stood up, and lightly wiped a tear from the corner of my eye, but said not a word. I think her eyes might have been shining too.
The next surreal moment was at Mwali’s house. Dinner was cooked with lots of cheerful shouting in English and Swahili. Mwali was told to “entertain our guest”, so we just sat and watched. She sat very straight, looking radiant and proud. She would glance sideways at me under heavy eyelids and smile. I felt like I had the silliest grin on my face, but I couldn’t get rid of it. Small brothers and sisters would bring bowls of good things to the table, they would stop and stare at us, then run off chattering. When we were called to dinner the commotion got louder. Mwali’s father went to the head of the table and we all sat for a moment, in total silence.
He said Grace, quietly and naturally.
After the Amen it just went mad. Everybody passed bowls, served food and talked non-stop. Then they ate and talked non-stop. About everything. How was my mother and father? Your relatives are well? The rains are good, but we need more in the country. Mwali have you written your speech yet? John Oliver is good, but the rude words! Our treatment of refugees must improve. Mwali didn’t pass the sauce! Do you think Pope Francis will move Americans to better understand climate change?
My head was spinning, but I was loving it. Mwali’s mother put some Shakespeare into the conversation. Mwali looked at me and rolled her eyes. I nearly burst out laughing. A small person showed me a pinwheel she had made at school and that saved me.
Everyone had a laugh, shared some news, ate well and (the thing that struck me the most) showed respect for each other. If an adult spoke, the children listened, but many times they would invite a child to speak, so we all listened to them. It was a good meal.
After the equally crazy tidy up/wash up/put away, children went off to do homework, or turned on the TV (I hadn’t even noticed it wasn’t on before). Mwali and I went into her room.
And I lost it. The room, the scents of Mwali in it, brought the memories flooding back. Last night – only last night? Only this morning? Could it be? Making love, in this bed, with this amazing girl. Then going home at dawn, running along her street singing, “throw your arms around me”. Home, school, lunch, the convo with mum, the happy dinner… I sat on the bed, eyes shut, tears welling up, my breathing all wrong. Trying to laugh and cry and not make any funny noises.
Mwali came to me. “Manny, dear my love -” She saw the state I was in and just stood between my knees, hugging my head against her chest. The tears flowed. I listened to her steady breathing and felt myself start to calm down. canlı casino I let my head fall between her breasts and it just felt nice.
Mwali started to rub my shoulders and I felt a soothing wave ripple down my back. I must have shrugged, because she laughed and did it again.
“You are liking that, indeed! Shall I continue?”
It was another of her questions with only one correct answer. She expertly picked up my ankles and swung me onto the bed. She took my shoes and socks off and started to push me up the bed. I took the hint and laid myself out on my back. She put a squirt of moisturiser into her hands and rubbed my feet, firmly pressing her thumbs into my soles and gently rolling and stretching each foot. It felt great.
She ran her hands up inside my trousers and gripped each calf muscle. Then with a cheeky look she came out, ran her hands right up my legs and undid my belt buckle. She tugged on my pants and I helped her by lifting myself up. With pants off, she set to work on my thighs and calves properly.
I lay there, wondering. I was being undressed by a gorgeous girl (my fantasy and now a reality), stroked over half my body, but I wasn’t really aroused, I just wanted to lie there and enjoy it. I watched her arms and shoulders flex with the effort she was making. leaning forward slightly, her breasts swung as she pushed into me. She smiled down at me as my face showed how much I liked it. I decided I could really get used to this. And maybe I should learn how to do it to Mwali.
She concentrated on my hands, kneading the palms and each finger, then moving up my arms. She tugged at my shirt and I slipped it off. I’ve always felt self-conscious about not having the ripped six-pack and bursting pecs, but Mwali’s tender look told me how unimportant it was to her. A thought went through my mind: boys don’t care if you’re a B-cup or a DD, boys like all breasts (whatever they might say). So maybe girls aren’t overly fussed… if they like you, they like you.
“Beauteous and lovely youth. Roll over,” she whispered.
More moisturiser, and now some hard work on my shoulders and down my back. She seemed to spread my shoulders wider and my back longer. It all felt fantastic, helped by the sensation of Mwali sitting on my bottom. I imagined her breasts hanging above me as her hands pushed and kneaded my muscles. Every firm stroke left a warm imprint in my flesh.
After working my back, she pulled and kneaded each arm, then reached up to my shoulders, rolling and kneading and pressing. I had a faint sense of her body brushing my bare skin. She tugged one shoulder up as a signal to roll back.
I lay there, warm, relaxed, not completely sure any of this was really happening. Mwali knelt beside me, giving me her big smile and half-closed eyes. She reached down to the hem of her top and drew it up over her head.
I gazed at all her lovely brown skin as she reached behind and undid her bra. Her heavy breasts with their dark nipples jiggled and settled on her chest. She knelt up, slowly tugged her pants down, then stood up and pulled them off. Mwali in all her natural, naked glory. I was excited and alarmed.
“Mwali, if someone…?”
“I promise you no one will! Did you not hear mother? Ah no, it was in Swahili. She said we are not to be disturbed for anything!” Mwali beamed.
This was not your average mother, that’s for sure. Well she’s the one who dealt so beautifully with Mwali’s horrible first time. I should be grateful.
At this point Mwali had climbed over me and was straddling my hips. I had lied earlier, I was quite a bit aroused by the massage, the nice attention and the gorgeous girl now sitting on me. She slid herself over my cock and wriggled it into her cleft. She rubbed it gently, slowly rocking back and forth on it. It felt amazing.
“This is just for you. You have been so good, and so patient with my family. I can feel that now you are more at pleasure.” She slid herself all the way up my shaft, then all the way back. “I like this! And I like the way you admire my breasts! But I have to say, you must be more careful at school. I like you to look, but it must be our secret.” See-crrett.
I might’ve been imagining it, but my cock was feeling moist where Mwali was touching it. I looked down my front to see my cock, but the sight of Mwali made me look up. In the soft light all her soft curves were shining. She was staring down where it was peeping out of her curly hairs, then looking up into my face. She beamed.
Rise, resty Muse, my love’s sweet face survey,
kaçak casino If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
She leant over and kissed my eyes and lips. I could sense her lips brushing the crusts of tears round my eyes. My senses seemed to be humming – after the massage I was lying relaxed, but I could feel everything. Especially the touch of her lips or an arm – or her pussy sliding along me. I reached up and lightly stroked one hanging breast, then the other and her smile widened. I pressed into the soft skin and rolled the nipples into hardness.
“Mmm, yes. Nice.” Mwali pushed harder onto my cock and rolled her hips around. I could sense her desire rising. Her breathing had changed slightly.
After some more of this, She suddenly opened her eyes wide And looked straight at me. “This was going to be just for you, but now I am wanting to share the pleasure.” She stretched over me towards the bedside drawer and reached in for another condom. I couldn’t resist the stretched skin above me; I dragged one nail up her arm and into her armpit. She gave a little yelp and glared at me. “Mistah Rude!” she hissed. I gave her my best relaxed, cheeky smile.
Mwali sat on my ankles and opened the condom. I peered down and watched, then started in surprise myself as she suddenly bent over and kissed my cock head. Playfully she bit it and I had to stifle my own yelp.
“Another day, I will give you that pleasure also. But now, dear Manny, will I have you inside me!”
She rolled down the condom then climbed up me to kiss me. I could feel her lips and tongue playing in me as something was happening lower down… She sat up as I watched and felt my shaft sliding smoothly in. It felt so good, warm and tight; the sight of my beautiful lover above me, her breasts pointing at me, her smile for me, her weight on my hips… how could it get better than this?
“Mwali, this is… beyond words. So good. I love you so much. Wow! What was that??”
Mwali’s smile widened. “I am only playing with you with my uke, my vagina. I feel you so deep inside, I can squeeze you. Your look tells me you like it!” I liked it.
She sat for a while, or slowly rolled forward to let me suck her nipples (or kept them just out of reach), or rose up off me and settled again. I lay there, relaxed, somehow still feeling the effects of the massage, loving all her little actions. But soon she got more agitated.
She was sliding backwards and forwards on me and I guess her clit was getting stimulated. Her smell changed and she got more urgent. She sat up, still rocking on my cock and strumming herself, holding her breath then gasping out. Her breasts shimmered with her actions. A sudden look of worry flashed across her face.
I knew in a second what it was. She could feel a big, wet orgasm coming and she was worried her “lust was too strong”. Oh Mwali, let it go! I’m up for it! How could I reassure her? Think fast, Manny.
“Come! Come now!” I ordered her. “Come on me, all over me! Give it to me!” I demanded.
She looked surprised, almost puzzled, then the wave broke. She let out a long sigh as her juices flowed. She pressed my shoulders as she shimmied and wobbled on my hips. Her movement smeared her come everywhere – over my legs and hairs, over her shining thighs. Above me her mouth hung open in a heavy smile, her hair hung in a curtain around her face. In all the wetness I came too, pulsing up inside her, my stiff body against her soft one.
I might’ve dozed. I realised Mwali was lying on me, saying my name.
“Ah, my love, you are back. You were away, but, so was I. Thank you so much for, all things. For helping me to have such good orgasms!” I could feel my skin was stuck to hers. Her breasts pressed on my chest. She propped herself up.
“I will treasure this.”
But since she prick’d thee out for women’s pleasure
Mine be thy love, and thy love’s use their treasure
She leant forward and lightly kissed my nose.
“Would that we could stay the night like this. But you must away, and I must to homework. We shall fix ourselves up as best we can, then you shall go home to your dear family. My parents want to meet yours, as I am sure yours want to meet mine. They consider you a fine young man, but the families must accept each other.”
We unstuck ourselves with little giggles and gasps. We shared her bath towel to wipe ourselves down (okay – not much of a plan again, I get it) and got dressed, barely taking our eyes off each other. I nearly forgot my school tie, but Mwali stuffed it into my pocket.
We stood at her bedroom door, looking at each other, both wearing a silly grin. Mwali put her hands on my cheeks and gently brushed my lips.
“Ah Manny. Mine be thy love, and thy love’s use my treasure.”
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