My African Adventure - Part 1 - An Erotic Arrival

A letter from Capetown brought back memories of the most erotic experience of my life - intensely sexual, my African adventure, from years ago. Before I tell you about the letter, I have to begin at the beginning, years ago, when I met a talented South African photographer.

MY AFRICAN ADVENTURE, PART 1 OF WHAT MAY BECOME 11 PARTS, AN EROTIC ARRIVAL

PREAMBLE

I work as the photo editor for a major Canadian magazine, which I won't name (and no, it's not Maclean's). Call me Fred, Fred the Photo Ed.

Some years ago I met a talented young South African photographer (I'll call him "Hanz") who was on assignment in Canada. We quickly struck up a friendship and spent time together.

At the time we first met I was single and in the lifestyle and so I introduced him to the best play houses and parties in Ontario and BC and some in-between. (Thanks to the reputation I had built, as well as generosity in bringing gifts for the hosts that bowled them over, I was welcome as a single man to almost any party, the parties that routinely excluded single men. And Hanz quickly earned his own welcome, as word spread across our wide but gossipy country. We Canadians are very hospitable.)

During another of his professional visits to Canada I had a girlfriend at the time and so we had some threesomes at home and also went clubbing all together.

After we had gotten to know each other Hanz repeatedly invited me to come visit him in the Capetown neighborhood of Oranjezicht, tucked just below the famous Table Mountain. When a particularly nasty, hard, bitter cold and long Canadian winter hit I decided to take him up on it, to spend a week in southern Africa.

FRIDAY - THE FIRST DAY, ARRIVAL AND WELCOME

After too many hours in the air and much exhaustion I landed in Capetown and took an over-priced taxi in to Hanz's house.

I rang the bell and the door was answered by a striking young woman, light brown in colour, wearing only a thin cotton sand-coloured robe; it complemented her nicely. She greeted me and said I could never pronounce her name so I was to just call her T. Her robe hung slightly open at the front and while it concealed her breasts, it revealed a line of lovely skin from her neck, down her chest between her concealed breasts, through a smooth trim belly, and to a triangle that was well shaven or waxed. She was medium height, thin, long limbed, and with a radiant smile. Oh, lucky Hanz! He hadn't told me about her. T welcomed me in.

Jet lag made me clumsy and as I stumbled in over the doorway, I missed seeing her hang up her robe. The next sight I got of her, as she led me through the house, was of her back, round buns, thighs, calves and bare feet. There wasn't a blemish on her and that smooth skin called out to be touched. She led me to the pool in the back, where Hanz greeted me heartily. While Hanz and I hugged and shook hands and celebrated each other, I got a look at T's gorgeous breasts. Nicely sized in the B-to-C cup range and with the benefit of youth, not the slightest bit of sag. Her nipples were darkest brown and small. I felt quite envious of Hanz.

They showed me to my guest bedroom. I had to wash up after my long flight so I showered and threw on a bathing suit to go out and join Hanz and T. I got half way out when I realized how silly it was for me to be wearing a bathing suit when my hosts were naked, so I stripped it off and joined them. Jet-lag was my only excuse for being so slow on the take up.

We talked and had some sodas and beers and played around on the pool. I tried to not be obvious that I could barely take my eyes off T. When standing around she seemed to adopt only two postures. One was with her arms folded, which framed her gorgeous breasts. The other was with her long arms hanging down. When she was standing like that, she had the odd and apparently unconscious habit of fingering herself and then periodically putting a moistened finger tip in her mouth and then returning her hand to her honey pot. She didn't seem to be really masturbating herself, it was just one of those odd habits people have - though this was the oddest and sexiest habit of all.

After we'd talked and drank, goofed around in the pool, jet-lag was getting the better of me and I lay down on a pool-side couch to take a snooze.

I awoke to the quiet and delicious sound of fucking, the soft gentle rhythm of two people enjoying sex. I lay doggo, pretending to be still be asleep, and watched them. Fortunately I was laying on my side, so it was easy for me to watch them and also easy to disguise my erection, which would have been sticking straight up if I had been laying on my back.

It was equestrian. Hanz lay on his back and T rode him, the delicious cowgirl. She was facing me, so I had the best view possible. She went up and down in a steady rhythm, the way you do it when you're in no hurry to get to an orgasm, but want to prolong the simple and beautiful pleasure of it.

I watched quietly.

Eventually T caught on to the fact that I was watching. She discretely gave a little wave of her hand to let me know she was on to me. She continued slow fucking Hanz for a while and then gave me a wink. She continued riding Hanz at the same pace, but instead of smoothly gliding up and down him, she now put a push into it, driving them both toward their orgasms. It was still the rhythm of a slow fuck, but done harder and more passionately. Sweat began to glisten on her breasts and upper lip. She started holding her head back and then began to arch her shoulders back. Her small breasts stood out and her nipples extended. Coming was eminent.

While the speed of her riding up and down on Hanz didn't change, she began having small spasms. I could see the muscles of her belly rippling. Finally it was too much; Hanz's hips began bucking upward and her hips jerked forward as they both came.

T collapsed forward lying chest-on-chest with Hanz while they both caught their breath. Then after a bit we all got up. I opened three beers and we stood around talking and drinking. T followed her habit of putting a finger inside herself and then taking it to her mouth. Only now her finger wasn't just a little moist with her juices, it was thick with Hanz's semen.

I haven't mentioned what you obviously suspect: I had a full and almost painful erection sticking straight out while we stood and talked. There was nothing I could do about it. Pleasure and pain: I had the exciting pleasure of being very aroused, combined with the pain of feeling no touch, no prospect for any relief.

After we'd chatted and joked for a while Hanz looked down at my arrow-straight erection and said to T that she should put me out of my misery. T said maybe after we were better acquainted we might screw but now was too soon. Hanz asked her to have some mercy and so she did.

She put her hands to me in a way that I'd never experienced before. She held out one hand, palm up, fingers extended. That she put under my straight erection, cradling it. With her other hand she softly stroked the top of my dick, from the base to the tip.

It was like she was petting a cat and she did it just like that: all the strokes on one direction, slow and languid, as if she were petting a cat while paying no attention to it - but she was paying attention, full attention, to my reaction.

The feeling was exquisite. If I hadn't been so horny I could have really enjoyed it, having her slowly, gradually arouse me. Just like the slow fucking between her and Hanz that I had just witnessed. But that wasn't the case now: I was extremely aroused and fit to burst.

I almost immediately began coming onto her palm. Slow, long lasting, relishing the pleasure - that would have been my preference. But for the same reason that I had an unequivocally stiff erection I found myself coming without delay. The way she continued stroking the top of me, like petting a cat, intensified my orgasm. It felt gorgeous to be coming in her palm, though I would have loved for the experience to have lasted longer. And I would have loved for it to be inside someone who was enjoying it with me.

When I was done spurting and started to soften she raised her hand to her mouth and licked my semen off her palm.

Then she said that she knew what I ate on the plane. Clever girl. Hanz said he was never allowed to eat asparagus.

When she was nearly finished lapping up my spunk, she swiped a fingertip with some and rubbed it around Hanz's lips. Then with another fingertip inside her, she took some of Hanz's semen and rubbed it around my lips. With her arms around our shoulders she hugged us together and said "you're my boys". Although she hadn't had sex with me, although I hadn't had the opportunity to give her deep pleasure, she was unquestionably welcoming me to the household.

By then the sun was low in the sky and we went into the house, T made dinner and we ate and I was introduced to the African flavors and spices that she used.

After dinner I did the washing up and then joined Hanz and T on the couch in front of the TV. We were all in our robes with Hanz and I sitting on either side of T.

After a while she slipped her hand into my robe and began fondling me. It took but a moment for me to get hard. She stroked me slowly and gently, almost absent-mindedly, much like the way she would touch herself.

I really enjoyed the sensation.

From time to time she would stop stroking me and play with my balls or rub the inside of my thigh. I think she was doing this to keep me from getting too excited too quickly. Unlike this afternoon when, out of horniness, I came quickly, this was being drawn out for maximum pleasure. And the pleasure went on and on.

Finally I was reaching a peak, about to come, and she must have sensed it because she leaned over and put her lips on the tip of my dick. I came in her mouth and she swallowed without making a show of it. I think she had taken my spunk into her mouth just to avoid any messiness.

She had put her lips on the very end tip of me and held steady, so I got no sensation from it. Yes, by holding steady she was giving me a ruined orgasm, that's what she was doing. But ruined or not, it was delightful to come a second time under her ministrations and in the whole experience I was bathed in pleasure.

For a while I was lost in the afterglow and when I recovered I turned and smiled to her. She smiled back and then swung over and mounted Hanz. They began fucking, slowly, slowly, much as they had in the afternoon. There eyes were fixed on each other and their gazes never moved; they were locked looking deeply into each other's eyes while they slow fucked.

You can have sex with someone and have your mind entirely on your own sensations. But when your eyes are locked together, your mind is on the shared sensation. And that is how they were.

They kept on like this for a good long time and after a while I put myself to bed while they continued.

I thought about the day - flying away from frozen Toronto, arriving in sultry South Africa, seeing again my friend Hanz, meeting his lady T, being introduced to African spices, having a gorgeous girl jack me twice. What a day.

I immediately fell asleep and slept for maybe nine or ten hours. I dreamed of crowded airplanes, sunny Africa, and gorgeous girls who loved sex until I awoke mid morning.

And that was the first day of my adventure in Africa.

Next, Part 2, Saturday, I find a terrific companion.