I texted him that night. I had no idea why, I just did . You see, this man and I had not talked in weeks maybe even months, but that night my loneliness drove me to him. I found myself searching for his number and sending that much dreaded text. “Hey!”.
He replied immediately, almost like he was staring at his phone waiting for me to text him.
“I am in Kenya,” he said.
I was excited and confused at the same time. I knew he’d want to see me. He had missed me, I could tell by the way he replied to my messages.
“Come see me, I am at four points.”
I hadn’t missed him as much, I had no feelings for him, not hate and definitely not love but I still found myself preparing to go meet him
. . . . . . .
There he was, waiting for me at the restaurant, I sat down quietly and the staring game began. We stared at each for what seemed like an eternity.
“I love you.” He said quietly, with his eyes transfixed at me. I hated being on the spot, the center of his attention. I lowered my head, I wanted to ignore him, the plan was to ignore what he had just told me. I did not love him, I wasn’t even close to loving him. I didn’t want to lie to him that I loved him, I had been lied to before, by a man I loved intensely, passionetly and with so much vigour. I knew the pain of being lied to, of being misled and I did not wish to inflict it on anybody else. He, said he loved me a second time and this time round I couldn’t ignore him.
“You can’t be serious.” I muttered. He was quick to reply that he was as serious as death itself, but death to me had always been certain, never serious. He loved me, after two years and some months he had fallen in love with me. He wanted me to have his baby. He wanted a baby with the woman he loved. I toyed with the idea of carrying his baby in my mind briefly and I must admit I liked it.
After two bottles of wine we left for his hotel room. I knew he’d want to make love to me, I could tell by the way he looked at me, the long gaze and the intense stares only painted a picture that he longed to be with me.To be intimate with me but I did not want to give myself to him, at least not that night.
. . . . . . .
When he started touching me, I lost all sense of control. Caution was thrown to the wind and legs were openned with no hesitation. He knew how I liked it, better than anybody else I’d ever been with. He had taken the time to study my body. When he slid his finger inside me I moaned gently and I pulled him closer. I wanted to feel his body on me. I wanted to see his body on me. He fingered me like my life and his life depended on it. He knew I liked it a little more to the left and thats where his finger lingered. Every thrust sent ripples of pleasure all over my body. My clitoris was hard and wanting. I could feel my heart violently beating in my clitoris. I was wet and ready to take him in. He cupped my small perky breasts with his other hand and I remember him playing with my hard nipples. I wanted him to suck them, I needed to feel his soft tender lips on my hard nipples.
I lowered his head gently towards my breasts and pushed my chest closer to his mouth. He could tell what I wanted. He ate me up. He devoured my breasts and when he gently bit my nipples I moaned with pleasure and desire. I licked my hands to make them wet enough to give him a hand job. I rubbed it gently like he always liked it, focusing on the tip but not neglecting the shaft. He also liked it when I squizzed it gently. I wrapped my hands around his shaft and I squizzed and stroked it from the top all the way to the bottom in repetition. He came on top of me and I took him in my mouth.
I wanted to show this man that I loved him, with every lick and every suck. I wanted him to feel loved. I took all of him in, my hands on his balls and my lips wrapped around his dick. I sucked the life out of him and when he came in my mouth, I felt his body getting weak. He fell on the bed and his lifeless body laid beside me. He slept peacefully like a baby. Leaving me horny and unsatisfied…….. at least until the next morning.