Part One: Mbora
Some question still loom over that mighty penis…
We met up again not long after for an art exhibition and then dinner at his flat. I wore my grey hipster suit with some crimson lingerie on display beneath. He looked radiant but it was his broad, beaming smile and not his clothes that I remember. I felt both intimidated and excited by his tallness and darkness; this forbidden fruit so exotic and ripe sitting ready in my hand for me to take a juicy bite. Why hadn’t I thought of this idea sooner?!
The lust was palpable in the air and the flirtation was so ridiculous while all I could hear in my head was a voice screaming, “Grab him!! Kiss him!! Fuck him!! There!! Beneath the staircase!!!” But the anticipation is often better than the event so I always like to string things along if I can. To that end I decided I would wait until he made the first move and I keep moving in out of his intimate personal space as we talked art, sport and celebrity chefs.
The real challenge was when we were alone in the car going to his flat. He stole a kiss and a feel and it took gritty determination to hold that wheel and drive without losing my way or pulling over for a bit of raunchy back seat action.
He cooked curry again and a delicious okra concoction but my brain is now a bit hazy on the details. It was utterly delicious as I knew it would be and I imagined what kind of breakfast he would cook me in the morning- rules must have some exceptions! We didn’t make it to the dessert. Of course that was going to be the post shag snack…
He knew how to play my game and he seduced with languor and control. Over to the couch for some wine. Mbora removed his jacket to display his toned biceps which he used to pull me closer. Mbora caressed my waist as we talked about his home town in Africa and my childhood migration. He traced my lips with his finger before kissing me and removed my blazer with a delicate touch. After kissing we sauntered over to the bedroom and he stopped to light some candles.
We undressed each other to semi nakedness and finally we got down to business. His dark skin and spicy smell was finally mine to explore and enjoy. As for his dick, I can certainly confirm all the hype about African genitalia. Actually I was a bit worried about my capacity to accommodate him! It seemed to safer option to begin with a bit of head but as I started to move down, he pulled me down and started to gently nuzzle my shag map as if to show me that the African tongue had magical powers of its own. Indeed it did. I was so close to coming that I pushed him away and reached for the condom. I was planning to make a happy play at putting it on but he stopped me, telling me that these tiny condoms needed a special technique for a well hung guy like himself. So I started to remove my lingerie as he turned around to put on his condom like it was a trade secret.
The next thing I knew he was on top of me and finally I had an African penis inside me. Triumph! Heaven! I was a firework exploding! I celebrated by stroking his thigh, balls and stomach in a rapturous affirmation of his manhood. Then I felt something on my hand…
We met up again not long after for an art exhibition and then dinner at his flat. I wore my grey hipster suit with some crimson lingerie on display beneath. He looked radiant but it was his broad, beaming smile and not his clothes that I remember. I felt both intimidated and excited by his tallness and darkness; this forbidden fruit so exotic and ripe sitting ready in my hand for me to take a juicy bite. Why hadn’t I thought of this idea sooner?!
The lust was palpable in the air and the flirtation was so ridiculous while all I could hear in my head was a voice screaming, “Grab him!! Kiss him!! Fuck him!! There!! Beneath the staircase!!!” But the anticipation is often better than the event so I always like to string things along if I can. To that end I decided I would wait until he made the first move and I keep moving in out of his intimate personal space as we talked art, sport and celebrity chefs.
The real challenge was when we were alone in the car going to his flat. He stole a kiss and a feel and it took gritty determination to hold that wheel and drive without losing my way or pulling over for a bit of raunchy back seat action.
He cooked curry again and a delicious okra concoction but my brain is now a bit hazy on the details. It was utterly delicious as I knew it would be and I imagined what kind of breakfast he would cook me in the morning- rules must have some exceptions! We didn’t make it to the dessert. Of course that was going to be the post shag snack…
He knew how to play my game and he seduced with languor and control. Over to the couch for some wine. Mbora removed his jacket to display his toned biceps which he used to pull me closer. Mbora caressed my waist as we talked about his home town in Africa and my childhood migration. He traced my lips with his finger before kissing me and removed my blazer with a delicate touch. After kissing we sauntered over to the bedroom and he stopped to light some candles.
We undressed each other to semi nakedness and finally we got down to business. His dark skin and spicy smell was finally mine to explore and enjoy. As for his dick, I can certainly confirm all the hype about African genitalia. Actually I was a bit worried about my capacity to accommodate him! It seemed to safer option to begin with a bit of head but as I started to move down, he pulled me down and started to gently nuzzle my shag map as if to show me that the African tongue had magical powers of its own. Indeed it did. I was so close to coming that I pushed him away and reached for the condom. I was planning to make a happy play at putting it on but he stopped me, telling me that these tiny condoms needed a special technique for a well hung guy like himself. So I started to remove my lingerie as he turned around to put on his condom like it was a trade secret.
The next thing I knew he was on top of me and finally I had an African penis inside me. Triumph! Heaven! I was a firework exploding! I celebrated by stroking his thigh, balls and stomach in a rapturous affirmation of his manhood. Then I felt something on my hand…