This is one of the best written (and romantic) things I have read on ISG. How do I make it a report of distinction?
[QUOTE=SlowHand555;1401635]On a trip through southern Africa me and some mates camped in Malawi for a few nights next to the Lake.
The second day a local family of some means and mixed blood moved in right next to us. Although the campsite is quite large, African people do not share the same need for personal space, and basically camped on our doorstep! We grunted somewhat between ourselves, but we were not going to offend them by moving away. This strategy became evidently fortunate the next day when their niece joint them from Blantyre. A toffee skinned bottle blond package with an exquisite ass and full lips next to whom Angelina will look like a skull and bones!
She was aptly named Precious and professed to be studying law! A comely young lass, with a magnificent ass! I could tell by the way she looked at me, that there was some quilt in her glance, a perfect reflection of a sensation I had lower down.
Being South African, relations with black people is frowned upon, but I have never been able to convince my instincts of the impropriety of such attraction, as long as it is for a woman that is. We shared some great food and conversation with the family, mostly the father and mother, and the lass with her blond braids always sat on the fringes of the company, smiling and blushing at my glances. I thought everyone could see my oozing with lust.
One night around two in the morning, I went out of the tent to take a leak, and there I saw the Bush babies around the camp fire, calling on me to join them. Without their parents around, they were quite a bit more forthcoming, and soon the lawyer suggested we go sit and stare at the moon on the water's edge.
She basically made herself comfortable on my lap, claiming to be cold in December on the equator, but try as I should have, I could not think of a single reason to be offended! I'm more of a romantic than a "Monger" by heart, so I truly enjoyed every moment of this closeness and the idea that my mates are recycling their own breathing inside a stuffy tent while I am massaging the nubile breasts of a Bush baby scarcely 19 years old (she claimed) with dreamy eyes and uneven breathing, totally incapable of sitting still. I was getting a free lap dance while I started taking her clothes off.
I sourced a condom and some dried towels off the clothes line and improvised a bed on the sandy beach of Lake Malawi, three O'clock in the morning while I took my time to caress every bulge, nook and cranny of this splendid specimen of African fantasy. Her improbable 19 years of age caused some reluctance on my part to plant my spear in foreign soil, but sensing my uncertainty, she took the initiative and mounted me with commendable enthusiasm!
In days to come, she would signal her mating call by engaging me in casual conversation in the presence of everyone, sitting cross legged in a summer dresses and just occasionally flashing the clean shaven port where I dropped my anchor un-obscured by such inconveniences as panties or even her bikini.
Our engagements remained secretive, as neither her parents nor my friends would have approved of such promiscuities. This tended to increase the sexual tension even more when we tasted the forbidden fruit.
Sadly, a few days later we had to go back South, and although we kept in touch via texting her aspirations to come to South Africa dwindled over time and I never saw her again.
SlowHand Out[/QUOTE].