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A curious case of my vagina

By Zimbini Msingwa All Rights Reserved ©

Romance / Erotica

Blurb

However, in true perverted brute form I did not reply with a loving note, I do not love anymore. I stopped loving a long time ago. I could be in long-term relationship without loving my partner because I do not know when he or she is going to change their mind. Some may say it is horrid ways of living but Id rather have my heart intact-ish by the end of it. I do not want to stare at the phone hoping someone will call. Too many stories are written in heartache. I would not go as far as to say I am lesbian but I always appreciated a good-looking woman. This is not hard for me because I find a woman attractive. Any shape or size. I love the shape of women, the breasts, the hips. But most of all I love her vagina. It is the most intoxicating thing for me in a woman. I could just stare at it and get lost.

Chapter 1

The girl with a condition begs, 'Goddess please, do not be mad at me. This is the biggest thing I can fit in my ass. It’s a spray bottle, I can’t fit anything bigger’. It took her awhile to obey my very demanding command, 'shove something up your ass’. She sends a picture of a spray bottle up her ass. She has been very obedient in the last few days and tried very hard not to make me angry. I accept her apology easily today because I am intent on making her reach an orgasm. This is difficult to do over the phone, to say the least. I am not there to 'hold her hand’. She does not have much sexual experience. Her puss puss is still a virgin but her ass was popped a long time ago. I have always thought it was only men who salivated at the thought of being the first one with a virgin. I cannot take my mind of that she is a pussy virgin. I told her to keep it pristine and just play with her clit. I want to be the one to pop her pussy cherry.

We carried on with our sexting until she thought she came. She was feeling emotional after our rendezvous and wrote, ’I really wish I lived closer to you. I would have experienced an orgasm a long time ago and we would be talking and cuddling. I am happy I met you. I am always waiting impatiently for your reply thinking what you are going to say. It just feels good having someone and I am glad that, that someone is you. You make me happy’. I am captivating.

However, in true perverted brute form I did not reply with a loving note, I do not love anymore. I stopped loving a long time ago. I could be in long-term relationship without loving my partner because I do not know when he or she is going to change his or her mind. Some may say it is horrid way of living but I’d rather have my heart intact-ish by the end of it all. I do not want to stare at the phone hoping someone will call. Too many stories are written in heartache. I told her she was being emotional after a good orgasm. It happens, even to me. We planned to meet during the winter holidays and I travelled 8 hours to see her. I couldn’t wait see how a virgin pussy looked like, I mean an older person virgin pussy. She is 23 and she his a rare breed anywhere in the world. She fetched me from the bus station and first of all she doesn’t look like the pictures that she sent. I overlooked that, it could have been the lighting. We went to her flat and I met her flat mates. They made jokes about her always looking at her phone and smiling. After meeting her friends we went to her room and the first thing I did was to tell her to get naked and bring out the toys while I took shower quickly. I was tired but I had to see the virgin pussy. I came out of the shower and she was under the blanket. I pulled the blanket off of her and she was still wearing her underwear. I don’t care about the bra and I pulled her panties from under her butt. She asked if I could kiss her to get her going. I told her in a minute, I want to see her pussy. I stared at her pussy in wonderment. I touched her clit and opened her lips to expose her but she brought her legs together. She is a voluptuous girl and I figured it was going to be difficult to have my way with her. She knows everything about BDSM so I didn’t have to explain everything I wanted to do. I sat her on my lap facing me and kissed her and I spanked both her butt cheeks at the same time. That startled her. I kissed her and caressed her clit. She moaned. I spanked her again and she thanked me for that. Each time I spanked her she would thank me. I too. I lay her on her back and gave her some head, I started with her clit and flicked with my tongue. I inserted my pointed tongue in her pussy and she tilted her pelvis toward my tongue. She was clearly enjoying herself and took out her breasts and started pinching and stroking her nipples. I moved my tongue up and down her clit and pussy and she sort of jerked, dug her head into the pillow and let out a louder moan. It was time virgin pussy. I started with one finger while sucking on her clit and she let out another moan with her mouth open this time. I inserted the second finger and yet another moan. I could see that this was going to be a loud affair so I got my head out from between her legs and positioned myself next to her. I kissed her and played with her clit before inserting my fingers into her pussy again. It wasn’t a groan this time but a quick ;aahh; I twisted my wrist while thrusting with my fingers and noises I cant explain. I clamped my hand on her mouth because she was making too much noise and these muffled moans and groans. I played with her clit while thrusting and before long she asked in a muffled voice if she could come. When we were texting she said she thought she came so I had to make sure she came. I told her to go ahead. And soon enough the tribe beat drums and champagne fell from the sky and I felt her pussy contracting . I didn’t stop because I wanted to make very certain that she finished her orgasm. It wasn’t difficult to see that she just had an orgasm. She thanked me profusely and wanted to cuddle. I have just worked hard and she wanted me to cuddle. I lay on my back and she rested her head on my breast and cuddled. It wasn’t going to be long visit, I had to get back home the next day. I slept because I was tired from the 8 hour bus trip and climbing mount virgin. I slept and woke up again for round two and slept until morning. I was taking the bus in the afternoon for home and I had to make most of my time there. We went for breakfast and passed by the supermarket on our way back. I bought some ginger and some cider for us. I didn’t want to be drunk for my trip home. When we got to her flat I told her to get naked. She should just stay naked. I prepared the ginger and inserted it in her ass. She squirmed and begged for me to take it out. I washed my hands and played with her clit until she came. Intense is what it was, I clamped my hand over her mouth for muffled excitement. She asked to please me but we had no time I had to go to the bus station and go home. I guess she felt I was cheating her of a chance of showing me how much she appreciates me and she was quiet the whole way to the bus station or maybe she just wanted me to miss the bus. I didn’t have time for her childishness. If she wanted to spend more time with me she shouldn’t study so far. Tried to reassure her about my liking her. It wasn’t love yet because we met only two months before. Now I know what Steve Harvey means when he says take your time before giving yourself to someone. Its not that I didn’t like her but I just had to go home. We spent time texting and she wanted to concentrate on her studies. I encouraged her. She has a condition and I told her I will not go to her each time she has an episode. There was a rule in place that she greet me every time I wake up. At 04:30 am I wake up and she obeyed. We had a tiff about time keeping and she told me she doesn’t have time for that. I never spoke to her ever again. If she had an episode after that I would never know.

I want to be in a serious relationship with a woman but there are no suitable candidates where I live or maybe I just don’t feel like judgment at this time in my life from the unlearned masses. I am practically an unsung celebrity round these parts.

The annoying habit of gossipers, I will stick to the normal. Its common place to have an affair with a married man, no one sees anything wrong with that. Everyone has done it and no one cares if you do it. In fact one is encouraged to do it, they will advise you which married man is not a player. His wife could be just a few metres away and they know her and if that man is courting you, you will get advisors on how you should go about handling your business. I simply nod and smile whenever some bullshitter who is not even my friend starts talking such nonsense. I have gone out with a married man for many years and I would not necessarily say I was cheating on him really, he is married and when he left once a month to see his wife and children I would get to wallow in my fantasies. My love for women manifests itself when I have been drinking. I will fuck a bitch.

I was glad I found this girl, in fact she found me and immediately sent me a message. She saw my profile on a BDSM website so she knew I had fetishes. There’s nothing as annoying as having to explain why you want to flog someone’s clitoris. I have spent years trying to figure out my fetishes and trying to craft what turns me on for someone to want me to start from the very beginning. I want someone to meet me halfway, damnit. Finding a black submissive woman is not that difficult, us black women are programmed to obey and stay but finding a submissive black woman who will put up with fetishes is very difficult . I stayed once but I didn’t obey. I’ve always been head strong and didn’t conform to the lanes of being a black woman. Maybe its because I entered beauty contests when I was young. My sister threw me right in the deep end with that one. I didn’t realise I was pretty, I was young and carefree, I had no clue of how incredibly beautiful everyone thought I was. I was shy and an introvert. My sister entered me into a beauty contest and everyone loved me. I didn’t get what the fuss was about. Its like I never looked in the mirror to find beauty in me. I have my mother to thank for not instilling vanity in us. She never told us we were pretty, she never told us she loved us but boy could she give a good hiding. This one time she beat me up for the whole day, not an exaggeration . I have a scar above my left eye from her breaking a broom on my face, and I didn’t even do anything wrong that time. I simply opened the door for my sister and she hit me with a broom on my face and it broke and blood was gushing out of my face and she didn’t even apologise or see if I was okay. I never got over my mother being so mean and when I was able to stand up for myself I did it in a most vicious way. I don’t mean to be so vicious to my mother, she didn’t have much choice. She was older when she had us and she was menopausal and the father of her children had left her when we were just starting out in life. I don’t know what type of mother she would have been if she had us when she was younger. I wonder what type of young lady she was before her bastard left her. Was she ever happy with herself or her life before having us or was she bitter and vindictive as she is now. She would love if her children never spoke to each other. She is constantly instigating quarrels between us and she laughs when we don’t see eye to eye and to her dismay we end up on civil terms with each other. My brother and I don’t get along, I don’t like him and he doesn’t like me, all my mother’s doing. We were perfectly fine with each other when we were growing and we stuck together when she was a tyrannical dictator. There are ways to put things delicately. If I for instance say to her I will not do something my lazy brother wants done, I would expect her to be tactical and put it in a way that will keep her children from being at each other’s throats. The only relationship she hasn’t managed to brake is my relationship with my sister. My sister would be angry at me for whatever its said I have done but after a day or two she will want to tell me a story because I am her best friend, her only friend she can confide in. There are things only I know about my sister and when I say I will not tell anyone I really mean it. She knows I will take it to the grave but when she tells my mother you will hear about it from my brother, my sister in-law, her church people. It is the most insane thing I have ever seen and when they start gossiping she doesn’t understand. There’s one thing I admired about the guy with a twitching face when drunk is taking it to the grave. He will insult you, degrade and dehumanise you about it when you are alone but he will not tell anyone else about it. I don’t understand how my mother can be happy about her children fighting. Did she ever have the greatest years of her life or did we just ruin her life. She did her best to provide for us financially but even then she would just brake your spirit when you asked for money. Instead of just giving you money for school when you asked for it, she would go on and on about not having money and where did we think or expect her to get this money. Even when she was doing well financially she would still just brake your spirit by leaving you to go to work and not telling you she will give it to you when she comes back. And when you have unpacked your clothes thinking you are not going back to boarding school this term, she would come back for tea and give you the money. I have never gotten that and I still don’t get it even now because I find myself doing it to my children. I guess that is one of the reasons I stole money from her. I’m not proud of that. My sister taught me how to steal. I was never a thief, I was always the one telling her it’s wrong to steal. I would watch her steal and just walk away. She once stole meat from a hospital kitchen while it was cooking. How daring is that? She grew out of it fortunately for her and she handed the baton over to me. I put a little blame on my mother. She programmed us in a weird way. We couldn’t talk to her so we had not choice but to listen to the outside world when they told us whatever they felt about us we were either pretty or ugly. My sister was told she was uglier than me by the stupid masses. That thing messed her up completely for the rest of her life. She wanted a pretty boyfriend so that should she fall pregnant, the baby would have a chance at being pretty. She goes on and on about how pretty her children are. She will ask over and over again if her son is still gorgeous. My mother and I stay with my nephew while she is working abroad. She has a little girl over there and she is just gorgeous just like my nephew. She will go on and on about how many people complimented my niece and ask again if her son is still gorgeous. My sister is not ugly. Not by a long shot. But it has been installed in her by the cruel kids and stupid old people that she was not the prettiest. I kind of had it easy in life. People worshipped me for my prettiness and as I got older I thankfully developed a smashing personality, I couldn’t rely in my looks for ever. I have Seinfeld and Days of our lives to thank for my personality. The fetish part I don’t know where I got that from. Maybe it comes from being loved by the masses when I was growing up and maybe thinking I was better than everyone. I was somewhat of a celebrity growing up. I played tennis as well and I was very good at it. If it wasn’t for the single parent syndrome, I could have made it to Serena and Venus status. I was that good. I would stay indoors and just go out to play tennis. When I was sixteen I started blossoming and boobs and hips were starting to show. I had hoards of boys courting me. I didn’t get that either, I hadn’t realised people thought I was a goddess. There was this one boy I went out with for a few weeks and I got so irritated when he bought me a gift. A gold chain. I broke up with him immediately. What type of twisted mind is that. I remember being so annoyed with him I never wanted to see him again. He wrote me a letter, let’s just say he wasn’t the happiest and very, very hurt. The next guy I went out with was my first love. We are still technically together because I never broke up with him. Because of a break in communication with my guy I met a guy who would later be my best friend. I thought I would fall in love with him. On all fronts of being a man he was perfect. Good looking, kind, loving, caring, not heavy on drinking, just a beautiful soul but I couldn’t fall in love with him. I closed my eyes and wished I loved him as much as he loved me. I moved to another city and every month end I would receive a letter in a most gorgeous stationery, carefully picked just for me with words of love fit for a goddess. I never replied to any of them. Not because I didn’t care, I just didn’t have the money to buy any of the expensive stationary. You might say but it’s the thought that counts, not for me, I like to return the favour. I moved back to Cape Town and I met him again and he was chasing another girl. I was devastated when he didn’t see me in that light anymore. I wanted him to chase after me and only me, after I hurt him so badly. Selfish little bastard, aren’t I? To be quite honest he wasn’t being fair because he wanted to sleep with me and still chase after that girl. I asked what he wanted here with this body. This is what he wrote, *I am not interested in any kind of relationship right now because that will destruct my focus in finding something to sustain my life, which I think is a basic necessity more than anytime. This is one of the carnal desires Satan uses to deceive us. I think we need to fight hard to avoid what happened that Sunday and I should learn to meditate because that can suppress these kind of desires. In the process of growing up I learned many things and became stronger emotionally, so, I think it is important for one to be careful in choosing a partner because relationships that blossom in a desperate situation tend to have bad results and regrets. I experienced that with you. I was so in love with you that I couldn’t listen to anyone trying to warn me because I thought I knew you. I can not forget those lonely winter days of 1999 when I went exclusive shops trying by any means to get through to you. The first thing I used to do when I received money from home was to write a letter, buy a card and speed service envelope. Maybe all my efforts meant nothing to you or maybe my long letters were boring, but the love I had for you was special that I found strength in it. I was deeply hurt for no reason*. I still have the letter.

What could you say to such heart wrenching words. I wrote, 'I feel your pain, I’m sorry for the regrets you have. I’m sorry if I hurt you, I guess I thought I would grow in love with you unlike falling in love with you. And just for the record your letters were not boring. I bet you think I’m an idiot, that I would hurt you so badly and after a few years come back and ask you what you want. Maybe I’m a bit selfish, but seeing you chase after someone else reminded me of just how precious you are'. We became the closest friends after those heart felt admission. I guess he just wanted to hear an apology and I wanted to be selfish. But just how narcissistic was that, 'if I hurt you', of course I hurt him so badly that he hasn’t found a stable girlfriend in over 15 years. He hasn’t had children. He called me nine month ago telling me that he found a girlfriend and he thought he might marry her. I was excited for him and I thought its finally happening my good friend. Eight months later he calls me to say this girl has given birth and I was about to congratulate him but he said the baby is not his. What? Apparently this biatch was already pregnant when she met my good friend and didn’t say anything. And led him on and had him wake up at 3 in the morning to buy ice cream because she had cravings. This hurt him a lot and started drinking again. He hadn’t touched alcohol in 10 years. He called me drunk asking to borrow my son. He told her he has a child somewhere and the biatch had the audacity to get hurt. I said I will do it, I will act as a mother of his child and I will be very convincing too. I’ve known him for years and I love him really, he is my friend. He wasn’t actually going to take my son and stay with him but I was going to meet with them and tell the father of my son to be more involved in my sons life. That will show her. To show how good a man my friend is he doesn’t want to brake up with the woman, no, he just wants her to feel a little pinch of sadness. I’m sure he will tell her later in their life when she finally has had his children that it was just a joke.

I stayed single for some time after I had apologised for hurting him. I met some white guy who played with my feelings. Pindick bastard. I met him through a friend of mine who was stayinq with me. He was courting her and I for a lack of a better word jumped him. She wasn’t payinq the rent and I was tryinq to chase her away. I qave him a blow job in front of her and I quess that hurt her feelinqs and I told her to move out because I was qoinq to move the Pindick bastard in. I was hopinq for a qood relationship but he was just lookinq for a place to stay and be far away from his family. I would qet so frustrated with him not lovinq me I would qo to the pub and drink. I was hopinq he would join at the pub he wasn’t heavy on the alcohol. If we bought alcohol at the bottle store he would only have one drink and say I must enjoy. I wasn’t happy so I asked him to move out.

I met the father of my children after him. I had my first child when I was 24. The love of my life. I was so happy to have my son. I get scared for him and frustrated at him because he is so much like me. I am a procrastinator, an artist, good at everything I finally do, a massive imagination, trusting, humble, headstrong, he is all of that it’s eerie. I got married when I was 26 and separated at 27 from the father of my sons and I thought we would be together forever, boy was I wrong. We were together for six years before marriage and we were married for one year and separated after only one year of marriage. He slapped me across the face and apologised immediately. I was pregnant and I said screw this I’m going home. I went home depressed and angry. I tried to be a wonderful mother to my children and my nephew. I went back to my childhood shell and only went out to get some groceries. I was always at home and the kids knew I was always around. I gave birth to my other love of my life, my youngest son. He gave me a lift out of depression when he was born, I immersed myself into motherhood. Luckily this bastard was supporting the kids. I was able to do everything I needed to. My youngest son was now five years old. There was a hum of celibacy in these five years until I remembered alcohol and came into my vagina. Five years I stayed without even holding a hand of a man. I was not even bothered by not having vitamin D(ick). I was happily lonesome. After my separation from my husband, I was happy to be the loneliest girl in Margate. I was so angry with him and myself for not making it work. I think in turn I turned to motherhood to fill the hole that was growing. I slowly got out of it and I remembered that I used to drink alcohol. After five years I was not depressed anymore but I was not looking for love just yet. I would have five beers everyday. I’m not talking about dumpies(330ml), I’m talking about 660ml ngudu(quarts). So if you do the math I was having twelve beers every afternoon and sleep tipsy. I switched to brandy because I was not getting drunk with the beers. I would drink the whole bottle. I can literally count in one hand how many times I didn’t finish the whole bottle in a space of maybe six months. I became an alcoholic and I enjoyed every minute of it. I lost a lot of weight because I would just drink and not eat. I wasn’t one of those depressed alcoholics, even when I was hung over I would be a happy hung over person. It came as a shock to my children that I could have days that I didn’t sleep at home. Not because I was at a man’s house having sex. I was at a friend’s house drinking and passing out and waking up to drink again. I would come home either drunk or hung over to take a shower and get more money to go drinking. I would steal my mother’s bank card and buy alcohol with it. I would take money I was supposed to pay school fees for my nephew and drink it. I would take my mother’s car and go on a drinking binge with friends. I became thinner and I could now wear my old clothes that didn’t fit me anymore and started getting noticed by men. I was not happy about that very much, I wasn’t ready. I sure made up for it after five years. In the two years that followed, there was a Marriott of strapping young and old lads. Never make a decision when drunk.

I would not go as far as to say I am lesbian but I always appreciated a good-looking woman. This is not hard for me because I find a woman attractive. Any shape or size. I love the shape of women, the breasts, the hips. But most of all I love her vagina. It is the most intoxicating thing for me in a woman. I could just stare at it and get lost.

When my mother asked me to check what was happening with her vagina, I refused. She felt like something was coming out or dangling out of her vagina. It was going to ruin my fantasies. Imagine the anti-climax of going through the trouble of tying someone up, with legs spread out and just leaving or standing there and staring in master conflict because it reminds you of your mother’s vagina. I will not even term of endearment her vagina. I am not a doctor. I her to the doctor and they found something growing from her womb. They don’t know what it is. It just planted itself in my mother’s womb and started growing. It must have been growing there years or maybe months, we don’t know. She was also diagnosed with diabetes and she had to take all these pills including cholesterol and high blood pressure pills. This combination landed her in hospital. She had seizures and she was rushed to hospital by my brother. I was not at home. Thank God for him. I am not necessarily fond of my brother but he played his part in that fiasco. It was the medication for cholesterol, statins. A lot of people who take those statins have major side effects. And the doctors say they look at the benefit versus the side effects. What nonsense is this. So people must just have seizures and not complain, is that what’s happening here? I was infuriated by this whole situation.

We were born to live in a world of perversion. I have been with the guy with a twitching face when drunk for almost five years and when my mother got sick I was having sex repeatedly with this bastard. I had an alcohol problem I couldn’t shake. I have fantasies of just taking over a woman sexually and leave her breathless, especially an older woman, maybe ten years older than me. A woman who has never experienced love and true satisfaction in bed, you know, the ones who are about to be sick from cancer or something drastic like that and I will be there to take care of her and wash her vagina every day . I love mature woman with something to talk about, but most black woman would not understand BDSM. And the ones who understand BDSM are the young ones who just want an experience and move on to something else. Some people think its a satanic ritual. I used to think that too when I was a Christian until I saw a documentary on BDSM. Its not that I stopped being a Christian, I just stopped going to church.

Before deciding to go out and try to find love on foot, which by the way is the worst way to find love because everyone is just looking for sex I started with internet dating, the lesser of two evils. You have to be ready for what you might find on the internet. You must plan your answers before time before going for internet dating, you never know what you might find. I met the German lad on a page for interracial dating. Good guy, but he was still young and he was not ready to the attention he got from black girls all over the world. I threw myself in it. I was demure and poised thinking I have to get this guy. He was polite and sensitive. We would write back and forth in the morning, noon and afternoon into the night. He told me he was just getting out of a relationship that broke his heart. I was celibate for five years and I was an avid Christian. It all went well for about two weeks and we were chatting as usual and all of a sudden he told me he was horny. I wasn’t expecting that. I was shocked. What did this mean? Is he coming to South Africa. I didn’t know anything about sexting. It was the first time I ever did that, I have had sex before so I just described what I would do with a guy. That turned him on obviously because he was back the next day for more. I thought I have hooked him and it was only a matter of time before I either go to Germany or him come to South Africa. I thought I was lucky to have found this good looking, kind guy so early, God truly blessed me. I would always comment on his profile updates. The next thing I know there is this other girl also commenting and greeting me making sure I see she has commented. I asked him what the hell dude. He said this girl is just insinuating herself into everything. I believed him and we went on for about six month and I could tell that this girl had managed to situate herself into the situation, I said screw this I’m going home. My mama didn’t raise no fool. I wasn’t going to be the third wheel in an online relationship. He sent me a message talking about how we don’t talk anymore and how much he missed our chats and as soon as I thought he was maybe missing me for real, he said he was horny. Rha, the audacity of it all. I told him I was not horny and I have never spoken to him again. I didn’t block his profile and I see he finally found an interracial girl who lives in Germany.

I found the Turkish brute on another interracial group and he was clingy. I hate clingy men. I enjoyed the attention at first and he was telling me that he will come to South Africa to see me but after some time of constant messaging I couldn’t take it anymore. I told him to stop contacting me. I’m sure he shrivelled up somewhere. If I hurt him I feel not okay about it but man, cling wrap galore. I know I am everything a man could ever need but pull yourself together man and stop acting a fool.

The next people I met on the internet were a bunch of people I don’t want to ever talk to again. There was the one who told me that he liked to sleep with his sister. The one said he was into watching a woman getting fatter and fatter, there’s a term for it too. The one who told me he liked to eat faeces. The one who said he liked a girl who would be willing to sleep with his dog. I was getting deeper and deeper into a world of perverted souls. I decided to only go on social media to check my messages. I got a message from this guy asking me to make fun of his dick. I asked him what was wrong with his dick that needed me to make fun of. He sent me a picture. That wasn’t a dick, it was a man clit. A stub that needed watering for it to blossom. I have never seen such a small dick in my life from a 46 year old man. I would expect that from a 12 year old boy. I didn’t believe him and I didn’t want to be involved in child pornography. I told him to take a picture of his whole body. He had issues about showing his face. I told him to take a picture from the chin down. He did. It was a 46 year old man with a 12 year old boy’s penis. I was shocked. He said he realised he had a much less than average dick when he was involved in an accident when he was 22 and he heard nurses laughing and they were pointing and laughing at his dick. He also realised that he enjoyed this kind of attention, it was the only way he could please a woman, by making her laugh at him. It was the weirdest thing for me but it got even weirder for me. He asked if he could pay me to make fun of his manclit and give him tasks to do. I was sceptical about this whole situation. Getting paid to make fun of something he couldn’t change. I needed the money and I had an alcohol habit to feed. He would ask for permission to do everything. The first task I gave him was to go and buy make-up, and when he is at the counter to pay, he should call me and tell the cashier that his Mistress sent him to buy the make-up and that he was going to apply later for me. That got him very excited and he asked if he could go to the toilet to relieve himself. I refused and told him to go to his house because no one would see if he had a boner anyway. He obliged. As soon as he got to his house he sent me a message asking me to masturbate. That was not going to fly with me. I told him to apply makeup as sluttish as possible. He sent me photos for every step. I was pleased. Now he can have a little fiddle. He asked for my real name and address so that he can send the money. Although sceptical I sent him the details. The next day he sent me a pin number and his real name and address. I was still sceptical but I went to the bank and I they told me I had to create a profile because I have never received money this way. I was getting frustrated, I almost left. I was surprised by the amount of money they gave me. I wasn’t expecting that much money as the cashier was counting. 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8 hundred and 56. Wow! I went straight to the bottle store and bought me some beers and a bottle of whisky. I bought my children some treats and some of the things they wanted and a webcam. I wanted to actually see this guy live. I told him to buy some lingerie over the weekend. He kept asking what I had in store for him. I think he wanted to build up the excitement. I was gaining confidence and I demanded he stop texting me until the weekend. That Saturday I was woken up by a text greeting me. I was groggy and I told him to text me in an hour. I had to take a shower and look pretty because I was going to surprise him by taking this to the webcam. And in exactly one hour I got a message from this guy. 'Greetings madam'. I told him to apply some make-up and I was setting up the webcam. I told him to set up his webcam. He didn’t have one. He apologised immensely for not having a webcam. Well, he was not going to waste my time by sending me pictures. He asked if he could go and buy it and I told him he’d better hurry. He asked if he could wipe off the make-up because his community didn’t know he was a fetishist. He came back in about an hour and he came on camera. Good looking older male was my first thought. He was so nervous when he came on camera he didn’t know whether to look up or down. I noticed that he was wearing a wedding ring and asked him if he was married, he said it was to keep women away from him. Made sense, you would want women away from you if you had a dick that size. I told him to take it off each time he spoke to me, it threw me off the loop. It was time to apply the make-up. I was directing the whole process. I was pleased with myself, he looked like a whore from the streets. The only problem is that he had short hair, he should buy a wig next week end. I told to him to undress, he was wearing manly man underwear. This was not acceptable because he is not a manly man. I told him not to wear manly man underwear anymore unless I told him to. I told to take out the lingerie. This guy shops well, it is perfectly wrapped so it must be from an exclusive lingerie shop. I didn’t want to ask where he bought the lingerie because I would seem uncivilised of me. I don’t have these types of shops in Margate so I’ll act like I know. I told him to wear the panties slowly like he was performing for me. He didn’t even have to fix the panties to cover his dick, it just slid right into place. There was a little bump because his manclit was now the statue of Liberty. I told him to get rid of bump, he asked if I meant he should masturbate. I did not mean that at all, I meant he should not be erect. I couldn’t help but laugh when he tried to get it to stop being erect. He bent down, he tried to put it between his legs but it would spring right out from between his legs. He spent a good five minutes doing some breathing exercising. I should have stopped it before it began but I just couldn’t stop laughing. I could see him blushing from under the make up. Too funny. You see, the more embarrassing it was, the more turned on he was. I told him to stop because he was just wasting my time and I was turning my camera off. 'oh please madam , I beg you please don’t leave me. Please I’m begging you, I will do anything for you to stay, please, anything', he said. 'You can start by sorting out the little predicament between your legs', I replied. 'Please give me five minutes madam, I can get it down please madam', he said. *You can choose how you use these next five minutes. You can either spend it standing there trying to get your erection down and I will get fed up and turn off my camera or you can use them to get dressed to go to the bank and deposit some money for me for wasting my time and you will also get your manclit to behave. He agreed to the latter. 'Don’t you dare touch your man vagina when you are at the mall', I said getting out of view of camera to make him think I was gone. I watched him get dressed and remove make up and head out. He came back and sent me a text message that he was back. I didn’t reply. He called, I didn’t answer, not because I was busy or didn’t hear the phone. I called him back and asked him who gave him permission to call me. He fumbled not knowing how to answer. I could sense the frustration on his voice because he is a big wig at his workplace and he always has an answer when it came to his work, I assume. I told him to text me the pin number. He did and I told him I am going to fetch the money at the mall. He asked if he could masturbate for release while I was at the mall. I refused. I need him sexually desperate when I get back. 'when will you be back madam', he asked. 'In an hour', I replied. 'yes madam, I will wait for you'. I bought myself a good bottle of whisky and a teddy. I did not have any decent underwear. I hurried back home and gave him a ring. I could feel a sense of relief and excitement building up again. Maybe he thought I wasn’t coming back. I always do what I say I am going to do. I told him to apply make up and wear his panties and bra. I told him to do a sensual dance for me. White people. He danced his awkward dance, mostly touching his chest. I poured myself a shot of whisky. I told him to move the panties to the side to expose his man vagina. His manclit started jumping and like a little kid who has been caught doing something wrong his eyes widened and he tried to hide it with his hands. I told him to lift his hands up and there it was. He apologised profusely pointing at it with both hands and then lifting his hands in despair. I decide to change the subject and ask a question. 'Do you drink'? I asked. 'I drink whisky occasionally madam', he replied. He didn’t seem like a drinker. 'Okay, shake your ass and spank it', I said. To prove that he had a small dick, as he was bent over doing the booty bounce I could not see his dick between his legs. I could only see his balls. I told him to masturbate into a glass and drink it. He gagged and begged to just swallow the one in his mouth. I was a little tipsy by now and I threatened to ignore him next weekend if he didn’t finish his cum. The funny thing is he was still wearing his lingerie and his man clit was still to the side of the panties. I was going to the pub after this and I told him I will see him next weekend. I got a text the next day asking for a chat. I was hung over but I needed to build on this connection. No one ever paid me money just to embarrass him. He went on and on about how difficult his life is without a woman. I was Dr Phil. But I didn’t want this connection to turn into something I never planned. I had to nip wherever this was going right in the butt. I did not want to be emotionally involved with this guy. Not to be in a relationship with him but like him or care about him. I know myself, if I were to care about him I would not want to embarrass him and that would leave me short changed. Besides that was his turn on. The next weekend I sent him to buy a wig, a dildo and some lubricant. He knew exactly where I was going with this and asked if he was going to insert the dildo up his ass. I said of course. He was reluctant and he would spend minutes without texting back. I told him he should just accept being a sissy because he would never satisfy a woman with a little boy penis. He agreed and headed to the shops. *I am back madam*, was the text I received when he got back. Of course he wasn’t looking forward to the decimation of his ass. I had to keep reminding myself that embarrassment is what he was looking for. I told him to get naked. For this I wanted him to wear one of his manly man underwear. I told him to pull down his underwear just to show his ass and to bring a mirror so he could watch himself in his manly man underwear taking one for the team. I could see he was broken. His man clit never made a showing as he was preparing for his anal annihilation. I’m sure he had a court case of stellar proportion in his head. I told him to lubricate his asshole and play with his man clit but he couldn’t get it up. It was time to insert the dildo, it wasn’t a big dildo. I told him to look at the mirror when doing it, you know like when a woman is looking at her vagina before she masturbates. He struggled to insert the dildo but after some time it finally went in. I told him to thrust deeper. Oh! There it is, his man clit started jumping up and down. He started getting into it and I could see that he was relaxing and enjoying the fuckery. He asked if he could stroke his dick. 'As long as you don’t stop fucking your ass'. Needless to say but he exploded in great anal mirth. He thanked me and I told him to show his appreciation at the bank. 'oh yes madam, I will go straight away'. I received the pin number in an hour and I thought I should not blow this one on booze and friends. I become very giving when I’ve had a few. I wanted to do something for my children and mother. I’m a great cook so I bought ingredients for a feast. They were happy, I was happy. I sent him a message that in the coming week he must wear women’s underwear to work under his suit and when he came back home he should apply his make up and wear the wig and go about his business. In the coming weeks I would give him manual tasks like cleaning the house wearing high heels and lingerie or in a maids outfit. These tasks were a build up to the ultimate task. The next weekend I wanted him to run showing his man clit where people can see him and have a friend film it. He was shocked. He told me he had no friends. I told him to hire someone. He said he would get arrested and his neighbours would realise his life was a façade. I told him to do it where no one knows him. We could do this all day and I will always have answer. He reluctantly agreed. There was now suddenly a friend who knew about his little problem. He had to speak to him first to see if he would agree. He would try and convince him for the task to happen the following weekend. The build up to the following weekend was a series of begging for me to cancel and agreeing that it was the best thing to do to prove his loyalty and obedience. The weekend was upon us and I spoke to the friend on the phone. He didn’t understand it but he was a good friend to the sissy man. I also spoke to the sissy man, which was a treat for him because he had to schedule a phone call before. It was time to do it. I received the video in my email in two hours. I told him to take his friend out and I also wanted to go out with my friends. I fetched the money from the mall and I was rather pleased with myself. I was annoyed when the friends I was with started inviting people I didn’t know to drink my whisky. They don’t know what I did to get this whisky. They don’t know how much time and effort I put in to get this whisky. I stood up and left with my expensive whisky, it was already halfway through and I only had one shot. I will not be treated like some rich person with some need to be liked by the masses. I am just too pretty and too captivating for that. They thought I was being unreasonable, I told them to fuck off in my head and just left for home. The sissy man was due for a holiday and he asked if he could come to South Africa to see me. I had to think about it because I didn’t want him to think we were getting into a relationship. I had to be careful because I could see that he was head over heels in love with me. I did not want anyone killing themselves because I didn’t agree to marry him. I decided he can come to South Africa but I was going to intentionally ignore him so that he should think twice about me. I told him to send money to book the hotel room for him. His PA can arrange his flight arrangements but she had to make sure that when he arrived in Johannesburg, he should take a flight to Margate and I will fetch him there. I gave him the in season prices for the hotel room, I had money left to buy myself sexy outfits and nice lingerie. I wasn’t going to sleep with him of course but I had to look nice. This was strictly business for me. I fetched him from the airport. He wanted to hug me but I told him to kneel down and follow me after that. He sat in the back of the car and I drove straight to the hotel. I told him sleep his jet leg off while I went to the pub downstairs. I took his wallet and headed straight for the bar. I did some gambling too and I won two thousand rand and I was going to keep that for my children. I spent the whole afternoon drinking. I saw him coming in the pub all good looking, I was a bit tipsy and gave him a hug. We ordered some food, I had ribs and chips and he had a burger and chips. I told him he was going to drink and get drunk tonight. We had our fun and I even danced for him. I was drunk and it was time to sleep but he never got drunk as planned because by the time he came down I was already tipsy. I took my clothes off right in front of him to take a shower. I’m sure he sniffed my panties when I was in the shower. I came out of the shower and flopped on the bed and slept, I’m sure I snored. The next morning he was already awake, showered and dressed. Very handsome man but I asked him who gave him permission to get dressed. He said he thought we would have breakfast and then go to the mall. First of all, I was hung over, number two I wasn’t going to wear clothes I wore yesterday and number three he mustn’t think. I had to change and I also wanted to leave the two thousand rands I won at my house. We went to my house. He stayed in the car while I changed. I wasn’t going to introduce him to my family I gave my mother five hundred rand, my children a hundred rand each, my nephew is included in the name my children. They were happy. I came out looking like a dream and I bet he couldn’t believe that he was rolling with such greatness. We went to the mall and shopping is a girl’s dream especially when money is just no object. This guy was prepared. I felt like a princess. Normally I don’t wear make up but I bought make up and skin care products. I bought every thing I could think of and even bought some shoes for my mother and children. I was thirsty so we went to a restaurant for some food. I didn’t want to imbibe much today because I was planning on getting him drunk. I was the wallet keeper and I bought two bottles of Jameson Irish whisky and some cider for me. We went back to the hotel and ordered some ice. Its how he drinks his whisky, on the rocks. I allowed him feel in control about that but he was not going to be in control of how much he drank. We sat and chat about our histories, it was like we’ve been friends for a long time. The conversation just flowed until I could see that he was getting tipsy. I was now the one getting up to pour the whisky. It was more whisky and less rock and I watched as he was slowly getting inebriated I told him to get out of his clothes and I saw that he was wearing his girl panties. This guy was one of a kind, there was no black man who would be this obedient. He was drunk and I couldn’t even get tipsy because I drank too much the previous night. He said he has had enough, he couldn’t drink anymore. That, was not my plan. The bottle was halfway and I took it and forced him to drink from the bottle. He got so drunk that he just lay there in his panties. It was time for me to head to the pub for a bit of fun. I met a friend of mine at the pub and we had fun drinking and eating at his expense. She noticed that I was paying from a man’s wallet and wanted to meet the guy. Do you know why I hate woman friends? Its their insipid way of trying to figure out how they can also be involved. I had to check on the sissy man on how sloshed he was. He was still sleeping and I covered him with a throw and I went gambling. I didn’t win this time and I hate gambling anyway, it’s the unpredictability. The five hundred rand I put in that machine could have lasted me three days. I couldn’t get drunk so I just ordered supper and went up to the room. I watched some television to kill time waiting for the sissy man to wake up. He finally woke up just after 11 at night and went straight to the faucet. I told him to stop drinking water and gave him a cider. He tried to refuse it but I insisted. He was still a bit tipsy and guzzled the cider. 'Thirsty are we'? I asked. I gave him another one and he took his time with this one. He realised that he was in his panties and asked if I wanted him to do anything. I told him I was going home and I would be back in the morning. He begged me not to leave him there all by himself and that he doesn’t know anyone. I left him sitting there in his panties hunched over holding a cider in his hand. When I came back in the morning I found him sleeping but the cider was not finished. The food was not touched and the other whisky bottle was not touched. I woke him up and told him to take a shower while I changed. I left my new outfits in the hotel room. I poured myself some whisky and nibbled on some ribs while waited for him to finish showering. He came out and I told him to get dressed in front of me. I wanted to see how he wore his panties and like a girl he wiggled into them and he didn’t even have to fix the front part to accommodate a dick. 'why don’t you dance for me', I said. 'You mean now madam', he asked as if he was confused. 'Of course I mean now', I barked. And the white people dance ensued. Side to side, hand roll, pelvic thrust and the nipple caress. I’d seen enough he should take strip tease dancing lessons. He got dressed. What a good looking man. Looks so good in jeans. We went down stairs for breakfast. I ordered beer for me and a whisky for him. I love alcohol, no, I love the act of drinking. I don’t necessarily like being drunk but the act of drinking and socializing. He said, 'no thanks I’m okay, (I gave him the look), yes I’ll have it on the rocks'. After breakfast we went back to the room. I poured myself some whisky and looked at sissy man standing there looking as fine as hell and the whisky part of my mind in master conflict about this man. Maybe I could be in a relationship with him and buy a dildo, I mean there are strap on dildoes these days. And my reasoning part of my mind was saying you would end up cheating on him. If for instance we were in the club and just happen to be horny I would want my guy to satisfy me in the car or in the toilet and the dildo is at home, how would we make that work? But the whisky part of my brain told me to kiss him. I grabbed him and pushed him to the bed and undressed him. I looked at his wonderful body and he could tell I was very turned on by his body. I came back to my senses when I took his jeans off. Pink lace underwear. I got up and got the ice bucket and I put a few blocks in his panties on his genitals. He flip flopped like a fish out of water because he wouldn’t dare take the ice out. I told him he was useless, he agreed with me in a pained voice. I had to get some fresh air, I told him to take out the dildo and lubricant. I took his wallet and left. I came back the next day. I was planning on coming back but I was so frustrated. His last meal was the breakfast we had yesterday. I asked him if he ever heard of room service but he said he wasn’t hungry. I poured myself a whisky. Today I’m taking you to the pub out of town. I felt like a good braai. 'When we get there, I want you to engage in public displays of affection, you know, like you would act if you were a real man with his girlfriend'. I would let him keep his wallet this time and he is to drink cider. He asked if he could drink beer instead because cider is too sweet and that was fine with me. I took the last of the whisky and we went to the pub. I love to braai my own meat and I told him to stay put at the bar while I went to the butchery next door. I came back and there was a hoard of women surrounding him asking him all sorts of questions about us. I just caught the part where he was telling them about where he comes from and how he has travelled to see me. You know what I hate about women? Always trying to find out what they can get out of any situation. You know that bird that steals another’s nest, not that they were going to steal my nest I just hate that bird. The friend from the hotel pub showed up and she situated herself with us and acted like she’s known me for years, the bitch. She gobbled up the meat like she hadn’t eaten for days and asked if I can buy her a beer. I asked her if she came to the pub to ask me for a beer. She acted like she didn’t get what I was trying to say, she didn’t get the hint. Because it was just one person I didn’t mind. The sissy man and I went to the bottle store next door hand in hand and bought a bottle of whisky. And the vultures were circling. A person whose never even looked at me would come and greet me in hopes that I would invite him or her to the party. He noticed that I was very popular and mentioned I had a lot of friends. I told him about how my local pub works. When people see that you have money they will come to your table and tell you stories about how wonderful you are in hopes that you will share your alcohol. I dropped him at the hotel and went home. He wasn’t happy but I didn’t care because there was a lot of touching and kissing and caressing that I had to cool off. The feelings I had for him were not planned. I told myself not to feel anything but I was around him and him looking so good when dressed didn’t help the situation. I can not feel. I needed some time off. I stayed home for three days. He called and begged for me not to leave him. He told me he loves me. I knew I had feelings for him. I had to be strong. It was only a week before he had to leave and he asked me if we could go to Cape Town for our little holiday. I stayed in Cape Town once upon a time and I knew it well, I could show him places that no one knows about. I agreed. I took him to those places and we were happy, really we were. Reality always sank in when the sun went down. Our nightmares began at 5 in the afternoon. We couldn’t avoid what was in front of us, the smallest thing can be the biggest problem. Before we left for home I took him to one of the pub I used to party at when I stayed in Cape Town. David still worked there. I used to have a crush on him and as it happened he was not working that evening. David finished his shift and partied with us. I was dancing on tables and David helped me down. We went to another club and the party continued. I’ve always wanted to kiss David so I did and he was shocked because I was with sissy man. I told him he shouldn’t worry about him, he will accept anything I do. In fact why don’t we take this party to our hotel room. David wasn’t sure and I kissed him again and we went to the hotel room. We drank and kissed and fondled. David and I were laying on the bed kissing and I told sissy man to sleep on the floor. We had the wildest sex in front of sissy man. I even told him to suck David’s dick before we had sex but David was not keen on that but he did clean my cum. He was humiliated. I woke up hunqover and sexed out. The next day we had to go home and shortly after that he had to leave. I took him to the airport and left but I promised never to do that to him ever again. He came looking for a long term relationship and I was not willing to give that to him. It was never going to work long term. I wasn’t looking for that kind of unconditional love. It was difficult to go back to the relationship we had before he came to South Africa because he had held me in his arms. I told him to get a chastity device and send me the key. The reason I wanted him to get a chastity device was because I wanted to keep the key until he couldn’t take it anymore and open it and I would be so disappointed and end it. I planned it all in my head but after much discussion we came to an agreement that I was simply too far to keep a key for his chastity device and I was not willing to relocate my life. What if the key gets lost in transit. It was time for an end to yet another relationship, twisted as it might have been.

I decided to look for a woman this time who was into BDSM and Belgian girl walked into my life. She was older than me and not that pretty facially but man what a body, what a body. She would wait for her daughter to go to sleep and take these amazing photos of herself. I would make her take a photo of her pussy when she was at work in the toilet of course and that gave her the feeling of being a naughty little girl. She borrowed a dildo from her friend who is an absolute whore of all whores and when they were not the best of friends anymore she returned it without cleaning it. That will teach her. I didn’t think that was necessary. We had a good understanding and friends in the BDSM community thought I was a lucky son of a gun for finding such a gem of a girl but they were talking to her behind my back, direct message is a bitch, and she finally succumbed to one bastard from America. Fat American bastard backstabber. She blocked me from her profile and that was that.

I again stayed single for some time, my feelings were shot. I had to rethink my strategy on finding companionship I had to be on foot for this and I was tired of masturbating. I met the cute guy with a small dick(he totally made rubbish of my theory on big dicks in coloration to hands), he said I was fat. First of all, I am not fat, I have fat around certain areas. He was the first one I slept with after celibacy. Lucky bastard. I was tight as a rope. I was not ready for that encounter. I had not shaved in years and he had to hack through (George) bush with his middle finger to get to my fine looking vagina. He finally was ready to have his way with me, he tried his level best. First off, because his dick is small it was swallowed up by my George. Luckily, I was tight as a rope so I felt some friction. We had some type of relationship that went on for about three months, about. I knew he wasn’t going to marry me, I wasn’t expecting that. He is 11 years younger than me. He was just horny and needed to release some sperm. We even had sex without protection. Huge deal for me because I knew for sure that I was HIV negative because I had my son and went straight into celibacy and he had the audacity ask a silly question after the protect less sex, ’so, you’re not HIV positive , are you?’ What nonsense is this? I let that slide because I wanted to make it work. He was not concerned about pregnancy. I was not concerned about it either to tell the truth. Then he ruined everything by flirting with a girl I was friends with, who, just to put it out there, was actually HIV positive. I know this because she would ask me to baby sit her infant child and I saw the baby anti-retroviral medicine. I told our mutual friend that he must be careful about wanting to sleep with her. I was worried because I knew I would sleep with him again and I did many times over, we even did it while the party was on at a friend’s house, in the bathroom. Many thought I was a whore for that because they didn’t know we’ve been dabbing for over two months. When he was flirting with that friend he was not ready for the insults I threw at him, small dick, two minute man in front of every one. The girl he was flirting with was shocked, she didn’t know we were dabbing. If she was thinking of sleeping with him, that must have curbed her enthusiasm. And I was not ready for the slap across my face he threw at me. I said screw this I’m going home. It was a stalemate, we are now friends, and we have a mutual silent respect for each other.

The not all there guy with a huge dick. My word he showed me a pointed dick. The previous guy hadn’t done anything to loosen me up and my body and pussy were in shock with this guy’s dick and just how he just took over a pussy. He wanted to be serious, I think, but I had yeast infection after we had sex without protection. Yet another trip to the clinic for a check up. He would actually come and see me at my house and we would chat. I was not used to that from a young guy. He was also some significant years younger than me. When we were at a party I saw him talking to himself and acting weird. He was not on drugs, he was just not all up there. What type of person talks to himself when there are people around? It looked like he was mimicking what everyone was saying. I said screw this I’m going home.

I didn’t give up. I was determined to find love and when the jailbird guy with a big dick came knocking. I obliged. I thought for sure that we were meant for greatness together but, alas, he just wanted my body and my money without any commitment.

I wanted to be serious with him but I had an alcohol habit to feed and he wanted me to be his sponsor. I would buy some alcohol for us to drink sometimes of course but I wouldn’t give him money when he would tell me stories that needed money, time and time again. He also wanted to sleep without protection this one time and I remember I cried and begged him not to do it. Don’t imagine some weakling of a girl begging someone not to rape her. I’m a headstrong person and I suspected he might be HIV positive. He was thin. I live in South Africa in the province where the HIV prevalence is highest. He just touched my puss puss with his dick and he looked at me and saw that I was crying. He stopped. I had yeast infection after his dick just touched my puss puss. It didn’t even go in I swear. I wasn’t going to be one of those woman that suffer in silence. I said screw this I’m going home.

The married guy with a falling lower lip, this is when I decided to stop kissing men. No wonder his wife didn’t want to put out. I’m not making excuses for his infidelity. It’s always not the greatest idea on all fronts, someone might get hurt. So I kissed this guy for only two times and I was confused. Is it flat or pointed or in or out or just wet. I felt like I just took a mouth shower. I would get up and walk to the bathroom to spit, in the middle of dabbing. I am a sovereign kisser and when it comes to horrid kissers, I become dyslexic. It was the first time I felt like a prostitute taken to a B&B for one hour. He would rent a room for one hour and the funny thing is they knew him by name at the B&B. I found out later that he is actually friends with the guy with a twitching face when drunk. He was the first person in my adult life to call me a lady. He loved sex so much you would actually say he would interrupt me when drinking and take me to the bedroom to have sex. I would come back into the common area and people would actually know I have just been fucked. He had the audacity to tell me that his wife didn’t put out this one time and I, as a good girlfriend should open up, I said screw this I’m going home.

The older ugly guy who is friends with the guy with the lower lip. Now he almost changed my mind about kissing men. He knew exactly what he was doing. He would come fetch me at my house and give me his car to drive to his house. We had good sexual times, but then I realised that he just wanted my beautiful body and jealous that I gave it to the guy with a lower lip first. He is a good lover though. I heard his wife died recently. She was a big wig at her work. She bought a house in this God forsaken province. The older guy would come to check on the house and have sex with me in the very house that his wife bought. The things I have done. I met his wife too. Good looking woman and much younger that the older guy. The last time I saw this guy he was telling me that him and his wife were around and he told me that he was going to fetch me. I don’t know where he was planning to have sex with me. I wasn’t actually quoin to sleep with him. He assumed I would and I said screw this I’m going home.

The guy with a deep voice. I don’t think I was looking for love anymore, just something to do. The internet has made the world a small place. There is nothing like human contact thought so I went to the club on weekends with my neighbour. Because we are pretty we didn’t have much trouble engaging with people. She invited a friend of hers who was 15 years old at that time but I didn’t know. She looked older and certainly her conversation was mature. And there was another girl who worked her way into our group. I met a guy who would keep the beers coming. And his friend wanted the 15 year old and because my neighbour was a much talkative person, no one wanted her. You know those girls who think just because they are beautiful they can talk however they want with a man. Even the guy who was interested in her just left the table to sit on his own. I’m going somewhere with this. After weeks of being courted by endless wallet I decided he was not the one for me and I had to feed my alcohol problem by myself and I couldn’t drag these girls along to drink my beer. I went alone. I met the 15 year old at the club and she told me she was with some guys and that I should party with them outside. I agreed and they said we should go to 15 year olds boyfriends place. I sat next in between two guys and the 15 year old sat in front with her boyfriend. As the car is about to pull of I remembered I didn’t greet the people in the car. I said hi to the guy on my left with a heavy midsection and I said hi to the guy on my right. As soon as he opened his mouth I fell in love with him. I mean his voice. I love a guy with a deep voice, I have mini orgasms listening to a guy with a deep voice. I looked at him again and he looked away. We got to the boyfriend’s house who by the way is 30 years older than the 15 year old. He didn’t know that she was that young either. The guy with a heavy midsection was courting me in a most bizarre way. It was the first time I ever saw this guy and he was telling me that I must touch his dick or wait that’s not courting, that’s just trying to get laid. I don’t do that. I keep the car in the idle position but I don’t open my legs for any random dick. The mid section guy was the sponsor of the party and they went to the bottle store to buy more whisky and I now suddenly had to smile at this motherfucker when all I wanted to do was kiss his cousin, the guy with a deep voice. I kissed his cousin when they were gone. He was a gentleman about it too because I jumped him. We pretended like nothing happened when they came back. It was just a kiss anyway. I eventually told the mid section guy that I will be talking to his cousin from now on, okay? He wasn’t mad because I kept it in the family. I never kissed or do anything with the mid section guy. He just showed me his very small dick. And it turned out that small dicks run in the family I found out later when I finally slept with the guy with a deep voice. I had the weirdest dreams when I was at his house. I believe in black magic and I find it hard to believe when a black person from Africa says they don’t believe in such things. I dreamt he was dancing on the bed making weird noises and gestures casting a spell on me. I found it weird too that I all of sudden loved him and promising to give him a wealth of children. He didn’t have children and I was promising this bastard children I knew he couldn’t afford because he was an unemployed soldier. I asked him why he stopped being a soldier and he said he saw some things that no human being should see. I never love this quickly. Voodoo in Africa happens . I spent time and money calling him just to hear his voice and texting him. I never do that. I hate texting. What voodoo has he done, for me to just change into a love sick pussy cat. After sleeping with him he sent me a text telling me that he was HIV positive and he was sorry for messing with my love. I was so glad that I insisted on condom use, I almost did cartwheels, naked. I called him and I guess the deep voice thing is a bit of a fetish too because I told him I loved him and it didn’t matter that he was HIV positive, we were going to use protection. Or it was that voodoo I am talking about telling me to say such nonsense. I was willing to throw all caution in the air and have a relationship with an HIV positive person. There’s nothing wrong with them but I know myself, I would be so horny one time and just sleep with him without protection and besides how was I going to give him these children I have promised him with condoms in place. We were poor and we couldn’t afford to go to those clinics that deal in popsicle babies. He introduced me to his friends and called me his bitch. I said fuck the HIV positive bastard, no one calls me a bitch except my gay friend and gets away with it. I said screw this I’m going home. I never saw or spoke to him again. I guess it wasn’t voodoo.

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