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A curious case of my vagina

By Zimbini Msingwa All Rights Reserved ©

Romance / Erotica


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 curios Case of My vagina

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. 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.

For me to find out that the 15 year old is actually 15 was when my neighbour asked me to call her mother at 12 at night and tell her to come fetch her daughter. I was like why would I want to wake up an old woman to tell her to come fetch her child. She said, her mother is not an old woman she is 32 years old and since its Friday she out partying. I was 32 years old. I asked her how old is this girl, 15. No way. I called the mother immediately and told her to fetch he daughter. Apparently its not the first time the 15 year old has run away, the last time she went all the way to Durban. Let me draw you a picture. For her to get to Margate she took three taxis. The first is a one drive, the second one is a two and hour drive and the final one is only 30 minutes. She stole 3500 rands and travelled all the way to Margate with no plan. The first time she ran away she ended up in Durban which is two hours from Margate. The R3500 was gone in a week and she was left to find a place to stay hence living with a 45 year old. My neighbour couldn’t keep her at the house because she was actually a house keeper next door. So by calling her mother to come fetch her she was doing her a favour. The mother came to fetch her and I’ve never seen her ever again. Good riddance. The other girl in our group was another stray. She used to stay with her sister who is a pain in the ass actually, I get why she ran away almost. What a bitch, but when times are tough I would put up with that bitch. Her sister is a nurse and she has a house and two kids. All she asked from the stray was that she came back early from the pub and stop doing tobacco in front of her children and to clean the house. I went to the club with her and when it was time to go she would drag her leg saying she cant walk. I tried to talk to her saying it’s a dangerous place to just sit down we should head home. She insisted that her leg wouldn’t let her move I slapped her across the face and told her to move she wouldn’t. I left her there. The next day her face was torn up and there was blood everywhere. She says after I left her some men came and took her and tried to rape her I told her to go to the police and she kept saying she doesn’t want to be known as the girl who got raped. So as far as I could decipher she was raped and beaten and that cured her leg. The last time I went to the club with her, which was over 4 years ago, she didn’t complain of any leg so I cured her by leaving her there, it’s a miracle. I don’t feel any kind of remorse for leaving her there. What was I to do, carry her? The stray decide to run away from her sister’s home to live in a shack. And because she is pretty she found a boyfriend quickly and she lived with him and she got pregnant after she said she would never get pregnant. It looked like it was a match made in heaven until he took her to meet the parents. There is no black man who takes a girl to meet the parents if he is not thinking about marriage. Because she is a stray, lazy and young she didn’t get the profound act of meeting the parents. In Africa circles to be a good wife when you meet the parents you must work like a dog to prove what a good wife you will be. She didn’t do that, she slept until mid morning and she let the mother in law do all the work. What a mistake to make, you just never do that. Even if you are tired you must work in proper African circles because they expect you work like you don’t have a mother. She is not wife material and he broke up with her and their son lives with his mother and she is not complaining about it. I am willing to bet that her son will be looking for her via Khumbule khaya 20 years from now. I don’t know if she will make it to 20 years from now because when she had a minor STD that can be treated with pills, she didn’t go to the clinic or to her sister nurse. A friend of ours, the girl who talks too much went to her sister and asked for pills for her. And she was cured easily. I saw her recently and I think she still thinks I go to the club uninvited. If your life hasn’t changed in five years there is something wrong with you. After the guy with a deep voice I pretty much was close to my limit, I was willing to go out with an HIV positive person. I was at my wit’s end, I will not be loveless.

The baby mamma guy and I met at the club, it’s a pattern, and he bought me some beer and a sausage roll. I asked him to take me home and he took me to his place and asked me help him with something. I knew where this was going but I went in anyway. Just because he bought me a beer and a sausage roll he thought I would sleep with him. The low lifes of this planet. I went in and he started kissing me and touching me. I told him I was not planning on sleeping with him and I plan to keep to my plan. He didn’t understand talking about how he bought me beer and a sausage roll. I asked him if he wanted his beer and sausage roll back. Of course he just wanted to sleep with me. I am not a shebeen whore who will sleep with anyone for a beer, he opted for my number and took me home. The next thing I got was a phone call from his baby mamma. I was thrown out of my comfort, just who the fuck is this bitch. She told me she is the mother of some child and she just wanted to let me know that I must leave this bastard alone. And I told her rather nicely that if she has a problem of being a freezer between her legs she should kindly head to the supermarket and buy herself a heater to defrost her iceberg. I think she had never been spoken to like that and she dropped the phone on me. I was never in a relationship or ever slept with this guy for this kind of treatment. She called me four months later to tell me that the baby mamma guy has a new girlfriend. How did this concern me? I told her she was an idiot., so she phones every girl on this guy’s phone. What an idiot, why cant she get a hint. I didn’t even go out with this bastard, I didn’t even say screw this I’m going home, I was already home bitch.

The strapping young lad who said I deserved to be loved. I believed him for two months until he said I must buy him a trench coat. He did make me feel special for that whole two month. I actually did fall in love with him. I would walk to his house and spend the night. Celebrity that I am in my hood, everyone had something to say about that relationship. It was the first time ever in my life that I had to hide from a mother when at a boyfriend’s house. I never had a boyfriend when I was young, so I never had to hide from any mother. It is African culture to hide from the parents. A girl would be fetched by her boyfriend at eleven at night when the parents were sleeping. And leave at four in the morning before the parents woke up. Luckily he was using the garage as his bedroom and his mother didn’t go inside. She would knock on the door and the strapping young lad would meet her outside while I crouched behind the bed. I never experience that ever in my life. He was younger than me and a fine young lad. What a specimen. I had to do most of the buying of alcohol and he would sit there and look pretty. I was not old enough to be a sugar mama and I had an alcohol habit to feed. I really thought we would make it. He seemed like a stable guy. He would walk miles just to be with me. Although he was lazy in the bedroom he made up for it by looking good. He got arrested for stabbing someone to death. He didn’t spend much time in jail because apparently it was self defence. I said screw this I’m going home.

By the time he came back I had met the guy with a twitching face when drunk. Longest relationship I’ve had since my husband. I don’t kiss this bastard either. People might be surprised to hear this but the last time I kissed this bastard was three months into our relationship. I don’t understand how a grown man of 50 cannot grasp the concept of kissing. He would stick his tongue out. You know like when a naughty child is raspberrying you or when a baby is teething. How do you kiss that? I tried, really I did. I even told him to let me lead but he just rasp berried me. The next time he did that, I told him no, I will not kiss him. I haven’t kissed him since because his anti-kiss was sublime. He failed dismally. we’ve been together for four years. How do we have sex or show affection without kissing? Many ways to skin a cat. I didn’t believe him when he first asked me out. He drove a Jeep and a Ford Ranger, not at the same time, but this guy was doing okay financially or so I thought. I’ve only ever gone out with low lifes, not dead beats but guys who expected me to pitch in or be the one doing the buying. Every one has a type and I thought his type was one of those women who wore pantyhose. You know the ones that are well manicured and wear suits to work. The ones that wear make up and you would swear they never poo. I am unkempt to say the least. I have curves and I sometimes wear the same shit for three days. But I have a smashing personality. He didn’t give up on asking me out either. That’s how I know it’s done. A man absolutely never gives up on asking a woman he fancies out. It doesn’t happen these days. A guy and girl will wake up in the morning and ask what was your name again. I may have been a drunk but I was a principled drunk. But I think he was used to those fat girls that give it up in one day because he told me he was horny this one time and I asked him what I was supposed to do with horniness. I wasn’t about to do that and on top of that I thought his type, can never be me. What’s strange about this whole thing is I was giving up on companionship and I told my friend that if the guy with a twitching face when drunk turns out to be one of those men that just want my beautiful body, I’m done. I would go back to my husband, but it turns out he was rather serious about me. Even when I gained weight, he didn’t leave me. He insulted me about it and later wanted to dab. It’s not just his face that twitches when drunk, his personality too. You would swear it were two different people. When sober, he is kind, thoughtful, loving, caring, and all those nonsensical things an abused woman says about her abuser. Give him a few beers and 2 nights in a row without sleep and you will hate him to the core. I hate the way he walks, I hate the way he talks, I hate the way he embarrasses me in front of everyone. I hate him, period. That’s probably why I don’t love him. It’s a delicate relationship. If he wasn’t feeding my alcohol habit, I would dump him. Even though he has a big dick when it has finally made it to the up universe, he will not pull back when having sex. You need a good thrust when having sex. Otherwise you feel there is something stuck in your pussy and a bastard moving between your legs. I have to do most of the work and when I have found my rhythm he feels the need to explode. I look at him when he is about to explode because I can hear and feel him. He will start breathing hard, then shake like he is being electrocuted and that gives me the thrills as well and start thrusting like you are supposed to and then I look at him, his eyes wide open looking at one spot, more heavy breathing and the final up your pussy thrust and he is done and lastly coughing. His saving grace is his big dick it fills me right up, but it needs pills. When the pills have run out he will mount me and, get this, place his flaccid dick on my pussy and hump and hump with his flaccid dick until his lungs give out because he is a smoker. I am embarrassed for this bastard, but he doesn’t give up, he flops on the bed next to me and tells me out of breath to stroke his dick. It would make it to the half-awake position and he would mount me again and by the time he is between my legs his dick would be back to flaccid mode and he would hump and hump until he came, I am not lying. It was the first time ever in my life to witness a man actually reach an orgasm with a flaccid dick. These are desperate times. I told him if his dick is not standing up for attention, I won’t entertain it. He attempted to use his fingers to dab. I will not be treated like a lesbian by a man. What surprised me the most is I would not wake him up and tell him I’m horny. He would wake me up just to stick his fat fingers up my vagina What nonsense is this.

Thank God for the little blue pill. It was one of the greatest invention, old men can now have sex with young women. The guy with a twitching face when drunk is 16 years older than I am and acts like a little brat. I didn’t ask for him to be in love with me. Every month end he goes to see his wife and children and stays for the weekend. This was happening before I was in the picture so I didn’t tell him to see his wife once a month. This is probably why his wife cannot tell if he is being unfaithful. He has trained her so well that she will not even suggest coming to see him where he stays. I am practically his wife when he is in Port Sheptone. It’s a two-hour drive to his house in Durban. We have huge fights many times but the ones that sometimes happen when it’s the weekend to go home, he will stay and not go home because I refuse to talk to him. He will drink all night and park outside my gate at three in the morning not begging me to come out and talk to him, no. He will call my cell phone and say, 'listen, I’m outside the gate, come out and let’s go'. I don’t answer him and switch the phone off. He calls the landline and it makes noise for everyone in the house, I have to get up and answer it and he says, 'I said, come out outside and let’s go'. Super arrogant. And when he can see that I am not coming out, he calls again and says, 'I’m hungry'. I finally answer and ask what he wants me to do about that. He will drop the phone on me and I will hear the Ford Ranger pulling off. Its diesel powered so I hear it from afar. At seven in the morning I would hear a knock on the door and one of his friends would be at the door to summon me. He drank all night and fetched his friend to speak to me.

In everything I have done I have stayed committed. Even if that commitment is for one day. I was committed to these relationships until I was screwed over. I get so involved in a relationship that I will drop everything I am doing to be with someone I have something.

But it’s not all gloom and doom, I believe in monogamy. Its what I live for but there are times where I find myself being unfaithful like when to the guy with a twitching face when drunk is acting up.

It is never boring with the guy with a twitching face when drunk because of the elaborate fights. I love drama in a relationship but sometimes it can get too much with this bastard. He left me at the pub this one time and went home without me. We had had yet another fight and he left. Luckily, I know people that can take me home and a friend of mine took me to his place. I knocked on his window and the woman he rents a room from opened the door for me and I knocked on his door. He heard me and he decide not to open for me. I slept at a neighbour’s house who is a friend of mine. I swore never to speak to him again.

The next fight, same arrangement, he leaves me at the pub, I asked his friend to take me home this time. He did it without any questions and when at the gate, he told me about how much he had wanted me from the very first time he saw me. We were drinking some Jameson Irish whisky and talking about how well he would treat me. I asked him about his wife who lives five minutes away from my gate. He tried to kiss me and I jerked myself away from him. I have a theory about big dicks, or should I say how to know if a guy has a big or small dick. If his fingers go from fat from the palm to pointy or smaller when you get to the nails. That man has a small dick. If the guy’s fingers are the same size all the way up to the tip, that guy will more often than not , have a reasonably sized dick. Every body loves a good sized dick. There’s nothing like a dick that fills you right up. A stuffed pussy is a happy pussy. And when you get a dick that will reach the back of the pussy, you know you’ve been fucked. You end up thinking you love that person. He has the pointy kind. We continued drinking. The bottle was halfway empty, we chatted for sometime and I kissed him. Very good kisser too. On the other hand, maybe it was because I was leading. That was the start of a series of kissing events.

The next, the girl who is so convincing as a man, but I saw right through it. I called him/her to the passage leading to the toilet as my perverted mind was starting to manifest itself. I asked her if he was a woman, she finally admitted. I kissed the heck out of that bitch. Not a bad kisser too, but then again I was leading. My problem with her is that she doesn’t use roll-on. What a turn off. I never spoke to her again.

I would give her the nod but I never spoke to her. I’m sure she felt betrayed or played. She would come and sit close to me at the pub but I’m always with the guy with a twitching face when drunk so I had no time to tell her I had enough of her.

The girl with big breasts who tries very hard to be a man. She wanted to take over when I called her to the toilet, I brought her down a few notches with my kiss. She didn’t want me to leave that cubicle after I brought her down with my kiss. I, called her to the toilet and she was going to obey my kiss. I just wanted to kiss her and leave that cubicle because I have a reputation to uphold. I can not be in a cubicle for longer than 15 minutes. I’m sure she went home to masturbate.

Before the next girl, I had only kissed girls thoroughly. I met the not so pretty girl at the pub as well. We flirted the whole time we were there, The guy with a twitching face when drunk was not around. Business trip. We went to her place. She wanted to take over with her long tongue. I can not have that, I flipped her on her back and she told me something about being the man, she can not be had. I don’t work like that. The only snag was that she was just finishing her period so I couldn’t really have my way with her and give her head. I gently pushed her head toward my pussy for her to give me some head. She didn’t know what she was doing. I laid her on back again. You know you been having sex if your head has been to every corner of the bed. I fondled her breasts and fingered her puss puss while playing with her clit. She groaned and held me closer when I entered her warm pussy. I watched her rise, tilting her pelvis in vaginal mirth. I inserted two fingers and twisted my wrist while thrusting. I played with her clit while doing all of that. The tribes beat drums and danced and champagne fell from the sky and she exploded. I could feel her vagina contracting as she reached her orgasm. She wanted to cuddle after that, but I was drunk and tired after all that work. I slept soundly with her behind me spooning me after washing my hands. I thoroughly enjoyed watching raise her pelvis exposing her clitoris. I won’t forget her and I’m sure she will never forget me. I was the first woman she had ever slept with. She has only been with men before and has two kids to prove it. She says she had never experienced an orgasm with a man. I give myself a jumping ovation. Its my greatest pleasure to see a woman or man for that matter reach an orgasm because of me.

The white slave. He saw my profile from a BDSM social network page I had created called BBW Supreme Ebony Goddess. He was so nervous when he called me. He had this nervous laugh and asked if he could be my slave, I told him he lived too far. I had never had a live slave, it was always online and with overseas candidates. He asked me if I was working. I was not working at the time. *Could I possibly offer Goddess a job*, he asked. I needed a job at that time and I didn’t care that I was going to be a house manager. I packed my bags and travelled 10 hours to become a glorified domestic worker. He picked me up at the train station and asked if he could lick my feet after finding a secluded place. I wore sneakers with no socks for that extra stench. He got on his knees and started licking my beautiful feet. I told him to make sure he licked between the toes. I told him to light a cigarette. To ash my cigarette I told him to open his hand and I ashed on his palm.

I ashed on his palm and told him to eat it, which he did. He concentrated on my feet, licking and stroking. I think he thought that turned me on because he kept looking me in the eyes. 'Look down and lick my feet', I demanded. 'Yes, Goddess', and zealously licked and caressed my feet. I had never had a man kneel live in front of me and obey my every order. It was exhilarating. When he was done, we headed for his house. He had precum all over his shorts. I told him to hide his precumed pants. I greeted his wife and children and I was led to my bedroom. His wife didn’t get what was so special about me that they had run around finding me a ticket and fetched from the train station. Most people find their own way to work. However, the white slave was adamant on experiencing his fetish. I threw myself in the deep end with this one. When his wife was at work he would clean the house for me and make me food. As soon as I told him to take off his clothes his little man clit would jump right up. No wonder his wife didn’t let him touch her. They have been sleeping in the same bed for more than five years and he was not allowed to even look at her some kind of way. They divorced eventually.

I told him to hump the floor, funny to look at. He was serious about it and humped the floor generously. I told him to fetch a pillow and hump it, all the while being my human ashtray. I told him to get on his knees so I can put my feet up as my ottoman. He asked me to face sit him, I had read about face sitting, but I had never done it and I wasn’t ready to do it. I went and found something to shove up his ass. I found a decorative banana because we didn’t have toys. I wrapped it in plastic because we didn’t have condoms. I applied some body lotion because we didn’t have lube. A bunch of unprepared perverts, I say. I told him to spread his butt cheeks and proceeded to insert the make shift dildo. He tensed up and I smacked his butt and demanded he relax his anus. It took a while for me to enter his anus, it didn’t last that long because he couldn’t hold his faecal matter. I don’t get my jollies up by playing with scat. The control I had over him was a major turn on. I told him to give me some head. It didn’t work because head needs some penetration and a slave never inserts fingers in his or her Superior’s vagina. I had to have his dick but that didn’t work because he has a small dick. It was like being fucked with one finger. I masturbated to an explosive orgasm. He kneeled and hid his face as I exploded. I told him to come and clean my cum with his mouth. He asked if he could masturbate for his own release. I told him to lie down and do it in front of me. His face started contorting and huge load landed on his lower stomach, if his dick was longer, his load would have landed on his chest. I told him to eat his own cum which he gobbled up like it was his daily bread. I went back home after a month, the wife was starting into be sceptical and making my life difficult. She said I didn’t clean a dot of tea that actually the white slave created by mistake. How was anyone supposed to see that. She had nothing on me, I cleaned the bitch out of that house. I used a toothbrush to clean between tiles. When I left it was spotless but I’m sure it went straight back to white people mess with underwear everywhere. Why do white people do that, why do they teach their children to be unwifable.

Incompitence is a sign of mediocrity, I've been mediocre at everything most of my life and I have the courage and audacity to show the world what I am made of. Finding myself has been a long journey, I have looked for answers at the bottom of the bottle. Murky and unforgiving were the waters I call my life but the good news is I have found who I want to be and I am content to be where I am emotionally. I am stronger and I mostly have to attribute most of it to the men that never loved to loved. I attribute not falling quickly for a guy to the young strapping lads that left me feeling unheard. I attribute my resilience to find love to the men that are married and love their wives and they would never leave their wives but chose to have a side dish because their wives are tired. Not making excuses for them and I don’t think I want a husband who will find a side dish because I am tired. I attribute my strength to carry on even when it seems the relationship is doomed and giving it just one last chance to the guy with a twitching face when drunk. The good news is it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Telling myself that I don’t love anymore shielded me from some great emotional wreckage. I feel like my ego needing to be stroked was a greater high for me. I am glad I have turned into a woman that I am today.

The white slave qot a black qirlfriend after his divorce and I knew that relationship was qoinq to be in trouble. First of all the white slave is a fetishist and I don’t know if the black woman knew that. It is very difficult for black people to understand sexual perversion. They only know about in and out, up and down and maybe a little curve. Number two, the white slave has a small dick and he can buy as many qifts as he wants and take her many places but she is used to biq dicks and she will want to experience a biq one. And soon enough I qot a messaqe askinq how I was doinq. I was not qoinq to entertain that, I am not some bounce to qal when the other qal has found a biqqer dick. I knew the qal would leave him and I knew he would crave something he is used to. To be a door mat. He can try as hard as he can to be normal but a slave will always crave a master. I was not doinq anything with my life but I was not qoinq to leave my children.

I hate my husband, I wish I never became his wife, if there was a way I could have the children that I have and never have met him I would take that option. If he was a sperm donor at a sperm clinic and I had the same children, I would take that option. If I knew what I know now I would not have married him because I don’t regret having my beautiful boys. My husband’s absence made me arrive where I am now. I’ve always been a well behaved girl with very little sexual experience. I wasn’t always a free spirited woman. I think maybe I was trying to figure out my sexuality and waiting for my alcohol waiting problem to take its stance. I haven’t been a good person in the last years, in fact I have been horrible. The only people I will apologise to are my children. I was a horrible mother at times, I was especially hard on my older son. He just grin an bore it and acted out in other ways. My younger son stood there adamantly and demanded I be present in his life. Loneliness and alcohol made me do it. I was so involved in my alcohol that I didn’t care much about anything or anyone. My mother got sick and I didn’t believe how serious it was and I just left her there because there was promise of alcohol where I was going. I left her there and my nephew found her on the floor convulsing with blood coming out her mouth. I don’t know when se started convulsing or for how long. Luckily my brother was around and he and a neighbour took her to the hospital. She was in hospital for three weeks and I only went to see her once. I was not busy with anything important, just alcohol. I took money that was supposed to pay bills and bought alcohol. Electricity was cut of because of that. I feel so bad about that. My mother could have died and I just left her there and my children. All I could think about was alcohol. After five years of celibacy I went all out, from stealing to leaving my children, sometimes without even cooking for them, all because there was promise of alcohol. I was looking for companionship and they say to meet your prince you have to kiss a lot of frogs. I kissed some frogs and slept with a few but I have not found my prince. The guy with a twitching face when drunk came close to wasting a few of my precious years. He could never be my prince because he is married. I don’t know how I let it get this far. Maybe its what we’ve been through together. The first time I ever went to his place, he had taken his pill. I had never been fucked like that in my life. Three rounds in three hours. My vagina closed right up after that. He couldn’t penetrate me, lube and all. I was reluctant to go to his place after the extreme fuckery. I faced my fears after he told me how much he loves pussy, but unfortunately I realised that he needed help getting it up. Murphy’s law, right? He would buy a month’s supply of the blue pill, he was trying to impress me. The day I found out he needed help pumping up the volume was when we had been drinking for a whole week and I guess he forgot to pass by the garage to purchase the pills and he did his humping until his lungs gave out, I asked him what he was doing, he said he doesn’t know either. We slept and the next thing I felt was a warm liquid substance hitting my hip . I thought he was masturbating but he was facing the other way so it couldn’t have been his sperm. He shat himself in his sleep. He thought he was farting, its what he does, all the time. This time it wasn’t his usual farts, it was a spew of shit. What nonsense is this. I have never experienced anything like this in my life. I didn’t say anything except wake up and clean my hip, I was not about to clean his shit. I should have stood there and watch him clean his shit but I gave the bastard some space. He cleaned his own shit naked as I checked my phone that was charging in the common area. I saw his thigh and butt cheek with bits of shit as he was going back and forth between the bathroom and bedroom. I felt embarrassed for the bastard but what happened next blew me away. He fetched me from the common area and asked why I was standing in the dark. I went to sleep and as soon as my head hit the pillow he started fondling my clit. 'You’ve got to be kidding me'. He said, 'What, I’m horny'. Is he not embarrassed by what just happened or is trying to regain his manhood, whatever’s left of it. I refused, he hit the pillow with his fist and fell asleep. We would have our elaborate fights and I would call the shit on him. After the second time I called shit on him he said quietly, 'let’s not dwell on something that happened once and a long time ago'. I have not since.

After just months of qoinq out with him I found out I was pregnant after he told me he had a vasectomy. The bastard lied to me, for what I don’t know. Was he trying to get me pregnant on purpose?

I was legally married, I knew the bastard would not take care of the child. Before me there was an unfortunate woman he impregnated and he was not taking care of the child and his wife was complaining about him not buying clothes for his children. I even spoke to another lousy woman whose 17 year old son hasn’t seen the bastard in 15 years. The situation wasn’t going to end well for me. All he did for these children was include them in his medical aid. Inconsequential exercise if the children never get sick. I was not working at the time and I had an alcohol habit. That child was sure to be born with that alcohol syndrome thing and a host of other problems. I have my own proclivities. Alcoholism, depression, bipolar, BDSM, Torrettes syndrome in my head, I have all those mental issues in mediocrity. And the guy has his own issues. This child never had a chance. My husband would send money for his boys, if I kept this child I would have to take from my husbands money to feed another man’s child. Not cool. I had an abortion. He didn’t stand up for the unborn baby and say I will be there instead he went to gamble and came back with the money for the abortion. He was glad I opted for the abortion. I don’t know why I waited five and a half months to actually have the abortion. At first I was hoping for a miscarriage and when that didn’t happen, I thought I was going to drink vitamin C(I heard it worked) but it was a bit late for vitamin C to be effective, I had no choice but abortion and I did it myself. I went and bought the abortion pills and used them as the woman instructed me. I had the chills just as the woman said. Because the foetus was grown it took longer than expected for it to abort, I thought it didn’t work. The woman checked up on me to see if it was done. She said if it doesn’t work I must go back to her office so she can do it herself. I could just see myself spread out for her short black callused hands going in my vagina. I hoped the abortion would work so I didn’t have to go through that. How inhumane is that? I hoped all of this would happen at his place but I had to go home. As soon as I entered my house the contractions got worse. I was in and out of the bathroom. I even went to my mother and asked her to take me to the hospital. Big mistake on my part, I wanted to keep this under wraps as much as possible. She told my sister, my brother, my sister in-law and her church buddies. Fuck. Before she could take me to the hospital I had to go to the bathroom. I felt something come out of my vagina and landed on the water below and after that some blood came out. I sat there waiting for the blood to stop running. The blood subsided and I felt for the umbilical cord and the pulled foetus out of the toilet by the cord. My cardigan was on the bathroom floor I placed the foetus on my cardigan and it moved its legs. It was alive. I tugged at the umbilical cord to remove the placenta. The foetus gave a faint cry and then quiet. The blood came out like a faucet had been turned on. I placed the long umbilical cord with the placenta on the foetus’s stomach and wrapped it with my cardigan. I had to do this as fast as possible because my mother and children will just come in the bathroom when they don’t see me around just to see my face. I am captivating. I put the wrapped foetus in my closet to get rid of later. My mother was adamant that I should go the hospital. I knew what I had done. I just had an abortion and it was successful transaction. I don’t mean to be flippant about this whole situation but I can not allow myself to feel about this, it would kill me because I love children. She took me to the hospital and they told me what I already know.

The nurse told me I had lost the baby. I knew that but I couldn’t act all emotional. I knew what I had done. I stayed overnight at the hospital and they cleaned my womb. I came back home and I had to get rid of the foetus. Luckily it was the day of garbage collection. I put the parcel in the bin with the garbage. I went back inside to rest., and then it hit me in the garbage bag where I put the parcel, there were letters that had my address. I had to get it back. Luckily the garbage man had not arrived. I took it back in the house and took out letters and made sure the parcel was with garbage that had no address. This sounds so cold and calculated. I didn’t want to feel anything about the abortion. The bastard and the woman called me to ask if the transaction had been successful. I went to the clinic for contraception. I could not handle another abortion. I could not block another thing in my head. I was depressed but I refused to feel. We had our elaborate fights and he would ramble on and on about some Greek law of the unborn, how it had a right to live and the bitches who had an abortion were whores who needed to go to jail or face execution. I called him out on that and asked what he was trying to get at because he contributed to the demise of one. I’m most probably am not the only one he has ever given money to have an abortion. His previous girlfriend, the bitch, said something about aborting the hell out of a pregnancy.

Of course an unborn baby has a right to live. Some may say there’s adoption. I know myself, I would not give that baby up and I would be stuck with raising that child by myself. Now look a lot of people have raised children by themselves but they are usually unhappy and depressed by their predicament. I didn’t want to be one of those mothers that look at their child and silently say I should have aborted you.

He went on a business trip and I had time to involve myself in my children’s life again. I was an absent an distant mother. I tried my very best to happy. This was very difficult when I had no money to do anything for them. It is the worst feeling I have ever felt. Even aborting a child is not as heart wrenching as not being able to provide for your children. My legal husband was not regular at sending money for my boys. What was most frustrating is that he would tell me he will do it in an hour and never do it. I would tell my children that I would be able to buy what they needed in an hour because their father told me so. Heart wrenching, just heart wrenching. I didn’t want to turn them against their father, I made excuses for him trying to make sure that they didn’t hate him when were all brown up. I have changed that loser way of thinking. I tell them what is going on because boys always want to go to their father. I regret not telling my father how I feel about his sorry excuse for a father. I wish I could dig him out of his grave just to tell him to fuck off. I wish a medium can say that my father was coming through and I would tell the medium to tell him to fuck off. That’s how much I hate my father. If he was involved in my life I would not be where I am right now. I hate him. I asked him for money one time and he changed his voice and name and said I was speaking to his younger brother. Whatever happened to taking care of your girl child. So I knew if I kept that child it was going to be my childhood all over again. I did not have a happy childhood but my mother did her best with what she had. She felt an iron hand would make up for our absent fathers and she was menopausal. I just got depressed now writing about it. Thank goodness for Steve Harvey, he got me laughing. It is more depressing to write about my childhood than it is to talk about the abortion. At least that child didn’t experience the misery because of my grandeur at failure to provide. My children are suffering because of my inadequacy as provider and protector. I hope they forgive me for my failure to protect and provide when they are older. Luckily for them I am seamstress I would take my pair of pants and make it look like a man’s pant and have my older son wear that. He didn’t complain, he just went to school and put up with the bullying by those cruel kids. He would mention it casually that he was being bullied. I wanted to ma handle those kids. Couldn’t they see that I was struggling to provide for my children. Couldn’t they see my children had a bastard for a father. I still struggle if I should tell my children, especially my oldest, that their father is a loser because my remembers him as this hero who used to play and cuddle with him. My younger son has never met his father face to face. He is now 8 years old and he has only spoken to his father over the phone. I wonder how he will feel about that when he is older. I am in master conflict because on one hand I want him to hate him as much as I do, on the other I would like for him to have what my older son experienced before this bastard decided to be jerk. I apologise to my children for not being perfect or staying with their father even though he was abusive emotionally and that finally ended in physical abuse which is why I left. I couldn’t stay for that. He slapped me once and I left the next day. I phoned my mother to please send me money to come home. If I stayed it would have gotten worse because he slapped across the face while I was pregnant with my youngest son. I could take the emotional abuse because I could answer back. I couldn’t fight back physically because he is stronger and has twelve stories of muscles and I was a Christian. I am now 35 years old living at home with my two children with no prospects ahead, it’s a miserable existence.

I continued with the guy with a twitching face when drunk and took his emotional abuse. He tried to be physical in the beginning of the relationship but I had stopped being a Christian and I was stronger. I wish my father came back into my life now when I speak my mind and not caring what anyone thinks. In fact he didn’t come back into my life, he walked right into my mother’s life because he had no place to go. My mother had a house and a car, she wasn’t doing to badly for herself. This bastard thought he would just walk in and everyone would be happy. Bastard. He walked home and decided to die in just a year of rejection. Good riddance. The guy with a twitching face and I still travelled and ate at nice hotels and when he got drunk he would be verbally abusive as usual. Its nothing I did wrong, its how he is. He is famous for his tantrums and curse words. He would throw a tantrum because I spoke. He would throw a tantrum because someone spoke to me. I don’t surround myself with women who pretend to be my friend just to drink my beer and travel to these exotic places. If I said the bitch was my friend he would take her along and by her alcohol. That is my alcohol so that I can put up with this bastard. I would end up not getting drunk because this bitch is drinking all my alcohol. Bloody bitches.

I went about my business and sat in his car and drank my beer and played my music but when the alcohol is starting to infiltrate the blood I want to dance so I would go inside the pub and dance. He went on business trip for three months. Everyone was feeling sorry for me talking about how much I will miss him. You would swear they were talking about themselves. I was like, I will be at home with my children, why would I be bored? I enjoyed my spending time with my children and being present at every moment because when the bastard is around I never know when he might summon me to the gate. He didn’t see his wife before he left for the business trip, he didn’t go to his wife when he came back from his business trip. He came straight to me and told me how much he missed me. We went straight to the pub for a few drinks and after that we didn’t leave his bedroom for about a week. They gave him a week off from work after that three months. He could have gone to see his wife and kids. What’s worse is that he came back at the month end and he was supposed to go see his wife and kids. He chose his mistress. I was not happy about that, I asked him why he didn’t pass by his wife and kids because its on the way and he acted like I should be grateful that he came to me first. I know I am sleeping with her husband but that is still a woman with kids who need their father. He said something about me getting vitamin D more than his wife and I have no control over that. That is none of my business. I did not give him any love portion for him to be here looking at me with his twitching face. I have no control over how he treats his wife or how his wife allows herself to be treated. He often wants me to listen to his conversation with his wife. He would call her all sorts of names but luckily for me I didn’t take that to heart. I don’t want him to leave his wife. I don’t want to be his wife. Insane, because some women would take that and say they are loved by him and push him to leaving his wife. She still is at the house, at the end of the month he goes to her. He doesn’t drink when he is at his home so she gets a sound of mind him. I can’t compete with that. All I get is an alcoholic who is verbally abusive and threatening to be violent. I took the abuse with great agility and poised stride. I am not about to brake in front of a man. He would literally beg me to cry, I bet he was used to those women who cry over words. I will cry after a good beating but words just come in one ear and go out the other. I will pretend I am angry too just for effect but words are words unless they are true. I found out I was pregnant again, shit. I already found out what type of father this person is. The second abortion was not as difficult physically. It was a monster emotionally for both of us. I had the second abortion at the house where he rents a room. The guy with twitching face didn’t even have enough money to do buy the abortion pills. I had to talk to the dealer that I will pay the rest by month end. I got the pills and he instructed me on how to do it. I told him that I have done it before so I know how it works. I drank the pills and inserted some up my vagina. I had some contractions but they were not as major as the first one. I lay on top of the bed waiting for it to come out. The guy came back from the pub and luckily he was not drunk. He fell asleep while I was having contractions. I felt like I had to pee and I took just enough toilet paper for urinating. As soon as I sat down the foetus came out and landed splash in the toilet water. Blood came out. I tugged on the umbilical cord, which I thought was strangely long, until the placenta dropped out. It was a boy. Blood, lots of blood. I placed the foetus in the sink. I didn’t bring enough toilet paper to deal with this much blood. I waited for it to subside. I didn’t bring anything to foetus in. I had to go back to his bedroom to get a towel and toilet paper and some news paper. I locked the door leaving all that blood and the foetus in the sink and ran to my supplies. Luckily everyone was asleep. I wrapped the foetus in newspaper. I cleaned the blood from me and from the bathroom sink and anywhere it might have landed. I used toilet paper as a sanitary towel. I made sure I cleaned the blood and went back to the bedroom hoping the bastard was sleeping. I hid the foetus under the bed. I slept and woke up the next day preparing for disposal of the foetus. I couldn’t dispose of it at the house where he was renting a room. I wrapped the foetus inside the clothes I was going to wash for him at my house. I went home but it was not garbage man day. I had to find a way to dispose of it. I put it in plastic so that it didn’t soil the clothes that I had just washed. He fetched me from home and I had his clothes with me and I put the parcel in with the clothes. I had to find somewhere to get rid of it. We were to the pub and sat and drank but I couldn’t stop thinking about the parcel in the car. I didn’t tell him. The pub closed and we went to a woman who sells alcohol from her house and got more beer. It was my chance to dispose of my parcel. I threw it in the bush somewhere. I pass by that bush and wonder if its tiny bones are still there. This abortion killed me, it killed me emotionally. I drank to cover up my emotions. I danced the night away and kept myself busy during the day to cover up my emotional distress. I took the money my husband was sending for the boys and drank it. I stole money from mothers account and drank it. I stole any money I saw lying around for no reason and bought alcohol. I was always at the pub. I was constantly in a foetal position with a bottle of whisky or beer in hand. And fortunately for me the guy with a twitching face when drunk was also depressed. We drank every day and as always people started talking saying we will make the front page cover for Margate’s always drunk couple. He thinks alcohol and sex is problem solving. He will never apologise for anything but tickle your clitoris hoping you won’t say no. we had a fight after that and we were the spectacle at the pub. I can not remember what it was we were fighting about, I never do. He took out this very small knife threatening to stab me. Don’t be alarmed, I wasn’t worried because it was a Swiss knife. It would not get past my fat. I had a quart of beer and I knew if he tried to stab me with a Swiss knife, I would rearrange his face. I’m not scared of him and he knew that and started scrapping the tar road with the Swiss knife threatening to stab me to death. I said bring it. It was actually funny to see this old man with a heavy mid section bending over to scrape the pavement demonstrating how gangster he is. I’m a woman of great stature but I will stab a bitch when driven to it.

We didn’t speak for about two weeks and I thought I was done with this motherfucker. I even had a dream about harvesting fruit and I thought this is the end. I was feeling indifferent about him, I just didn’t care if I saw him ever again and after two weeks he called at 2 in the morning telling me that he is outside my gate. I told I was sleeping. He said he just wants to greet me. At 2 in the morning? I told him I was sleeping, he said he will never come to my gate ever again. I am not worried about the two in the morning thing because I was up watching porn and masturbating. What I’m worried about is the feeling of relief that he still came to my gate and idled his car and shine the lights into my window for me to see that he didn’t leave immediately after he dropped the phone on me. I continued masturbating and I slept.

What finally made me brake up with the guy with a twitching face when drunk is he called me a filthy person. He said I made his bedroom dirty and that as soon as I entered his bedroom flies would come and greet their friend, me.

When you visit a boyfriend’s bedroom you cook and obviously and it smells like meat is cooking and by default two or three flies come buzzing. I wouldn’t cook if I visited his bedroom. In fact he would tell me he was hungry and as any self loving girlfriend I would cook, but my friends the flies, would come visit and insinuate themselves in every situation. I said screw this I’m going home. He can fuck his clean pots.

I stayed single for two years after the guy with a twitching face when drunk. I was in mourning for a relationship that was volatile and unpredictable. He would see me at the pub and act a fool as always. He would go on and on about whores that follow a religion that is not their ancestry. That would be Christianity. Ever since I told him I was a staunch Christian before I ever met. He went on about how he was a soldier and he was taught to kill with any kind of platoon weapon, whores and sluts must die and go to the nearest hell, the Jews are killing themselves and these bitches are like chewing gum on clothes and following a religion they know nothing about, what person has ever been impregnated by some spirit. He is saying all of this in the club full of people every time he sees me, same shit for hours. What did I see in him? Alcohol, Ford Ranger, Jeep, hotels, B&B s places I’ve never seen before. A bastard will always be a bastard. The other men in the area didn’t stop saying I must now go out with them because I was meant for them and I wasn’t supposed to be with that idiot anyway. Nod and smile girl, nod and smile. When someone is talking nonsense I am able to block that person and only laugh where he or she would expect me to laugh. I’m very good at that.

I finally met a submissive older woman, 15 years older than me, who was married and had two sons and a daughter. They knew that their mother was looking for a relationship with a woman to love after their father died. I become very sceptical about people who seem eager for no reason. Okay I know I am captivating but some people are just too eager, she would often say I am spoiling her with my personality. I kept my feelings from this type of zealousness. Luckily she lived close by and we would meet for coffee. I told her I want to take things slow and see where it goes. Our first kiss was at the hotel where the sissy man and I stayed. We booked a room after four months of meeting every now and again for coffee and drinks. She wasn’t a drinker and I was fine with that, I would drink for the both of us. Our kiss was not rushed, it was slow and passionate and just right. There was no hurry to bed her, we had the whole night. Her soft blue eyes disappeared when I kissed her and she gave what sounded like small sighs. *what’s with the sighs, are you depressed by my kisses*, I asked. *I’m sorry, no I’m not, I just feel mystified by your kiss. I haven’t kissed anyone in so many years I feel overwhelmed*. So when we finally have sex with this woman is she going to give louder sighs? She lay on the bed I think in hopes that I was going to follow. I asked her if wants to take a shower with me, she jumped right up and she was naked before I could finish the sentence. Lots of eagerness. We took a shower and everyone went to their corner when it was time to wash their behind and pussy. It was still early days to just wash ass in plain sight. We finished and I threw her on the bed and looked at her body . I love the sight of a dominated woman, just waiting for me to do as I please. I opened her legs with my knee and lay next to her. She gave a little sigh as I kissed her and opened her legs wider when I touched her pussy. She was always attracted to women but she had to follow the norm of society, like the rest of us. Its not that she didn’t love her husband and she loved what came out of that relationship, her children. She is also a typical white South African, she never in a million years thought she would be touched by a black woman on her pussy in a non medical way. She has an almost black woman body, nice plump booty, dangerous curves. I entered her warm pussy and she winced and pulled back a little, its been a while since she has had sex. She groaned as I entered her and lifted her hips exposing her wet pussy. I kissed her and told her to lay on her stomach. There’s nothing as erotic as seeing a woman moving her ass accepting you halfway. This position hits her g-spot. She takes deeper breaths and squeezes the pillow. I love watching her clench and release her butt, watching it bubble just right. I told her to turn around , it was time for her to orgasm. I played with her clit and she lifted her pelvis and brought her legs together. She slap grabbed my arm and asked me not to stop. I wasn’t planning to. Her eyes disappeared. The tribes beat drums and Champaign fell from the heavens. I must tell her not to be so loud next time. The swat team could be called at this rate. She was preparing to go down on me. I stopped her right there, she was not going to give me a half ass attempt at trying to please me. I poured myself a whisky, standard issue, she doesn’t drink. I didn’t want to mess with an old woman making her drink at this age. I can be reasonable sometimes, I don’t want her children thinking I am corrupting their mother, well, I will be but in a good way. You know what I love about a person who has just had a good orgasm, its how they always want to cuddle. I called her to sit between my thighs and rest on my chest as we were watching television. More sex, this time I let her please me, I had her kneel on the ground and lick my pussy. I told her to play with my clit with her pointed tongue. That felt good. I opened my pussy with my fingers for extra exposure. A sub can not insert fingers into her superior’s vagina. It’s how it works. I had her lay on her back so I can ride her tongue and pleasure is one thing I enjoy. I told her to play with entrance of my vagina as I played with my clit. The tribes beat drums and Champaign fell from the sky. I told her to clean my cum. We lay there in vaginal mirth. I poured myself a whisky and we watched more telly. I passed out and woke up the next morning and she was still sleeping. I took a shower and woke her up. We had to go downstairs for breakfast. We went down stairs for breakfast and the looks from waitresses who have been working there for a long time were confused. It was a long goodbye and we planned our next visit to the hotel. It was going to be in two weeks time. In the build up to the two weeks I had her take pictures of herself naked at the most inopportune moments. She could be at work and I would tell her to go to the bathroom to take naked pictures of herself, completely naked. She had to take off all her clothes and take a picture. The date was upon us and I told her to bring her dildo ,lubricant and a wine glass. I had plans for her pussy. I have a twisted mind and she knows it. When we started talking, I asked her about her fantasies and they were compatible with mine but she had not tried any of them, what , with a vanilla husband and hoards of judgmental and gossiping imbeciles. As I am getting older I have realised your circle of core people should not irritate you. The bigger the circle the more backstabbing and underhanded tactics go on. We met in the lobby and went straight to the room. I poured myself a whisky, I brought some rope for bondage. I tired her up, I wanted to get straight into it before passing out. I tied her arms behind her and the rope went down to her ankles for her to be in a kneeling position . I poured myself another whisky. I took out a spatula and I began by spanking her ass with my hand. She was silent and tensed her body when a spank landed. I moved on to the spatula and spanked her with it and her bottom started going pink. I opened her pussy and inserted the handle of the spatula and she moaned. Her pussy was wet and it made wet pussy noises when I took out the spatula. I cliqued her clit with the handle of the spatula. I would pull it back and let it flick and land on her clit. She squirmed and wiggled trying to make me miss her clitoris. It was time for the dildo, her pussy was wet I didn’t have to use lubricant. I pushed the dildo as far as it could go she let out a moan of pleasure. I thrust quickly and vigorously with the dildo and it was pleasure for her. I flog her clit with the dildo and pushed it in again. I took it out and had her lick her juices. I untied her and told her to kneel and I peed on the wine glass and told her to drink it like she was drinking the finest wine. I drank my whisky and she drank her finest wine, yes, with the swirling, looking through the glass and taking small sips. I poured myself another whisky and told her to get dressed in sexy clothes, we were going down stairs to the pub. I wanted her to dance provocatively in front of everyone at the pub and drink her juice at the bar . I wanted men to want her but when they approached her she should tell them she is with me. I will sit back and watch it all transpire. I love being in control, I had no control in my life growing up so I get thrills owning a bitch. She danced her white people dance and she would point at me and when I’d seen enough I grabbed her arm and led took her to our room. I asked her if she enjoyed herself and she looked down. I asked her if she liked the attention she got from all those men, she didn’t answer, she just stared at the ground. I poured myself a whisky and stood behind her. 'Answer me', I said in a stern voice. She quietly said no. 'Why didn’t you enjoy yourself', I asked. 'Because…..because I wanted to be with you', she answered. It was the perfect answer. I grabbed her by her hair gently and kissed her. I was a bit tipsy and we went to sleep. I don’t know if she did but I went straight to sleep but I had my hand on her pussy . I woke up and she was laying in bed and not sleeping, I could tell she wasn’t happy. Maybe I should lay of the alcohol but I wasn’t going to admit wrong doing to her. I told her to wake up and lick my pussy slowly. There are lessons to be learned if one is to be my sub. I didn’t take a shower before she licked my pussy it had that not in the morning acidy smell. In there I say, that’s right lick it and swallow. She had to figure out why I was doing all these things and I will act like I explained it to her. I didn’t actually want to cum I just wanted to take her mind of her sadness. I pushed her aside and I went to shower and told her to pack our clothes, we were checking out in a few hours. I finished taking a shower and told her to take a shower. When she got out I was waiting for her with dildo, a vibrator and lubricant laid out. I put the dildo on my pelvic bone mimicking a boner. She giggled and came closer. I told her to ride it and she was happy and gave her sighs when I kissed her. I told her to lay on her back and I fucked her silly with the dildo while playing with her clitoris, and as usual the tribes beat drums and champagne fell from the sky. After her explosion I didn’t stop, she wiggled and moaned and groaned and the swat team was almost called. I used the vibrator while fucking her with the dildo. The next orgasm was almost a scream for help from the neighbours. If there was an unsatisfied wife next door, she wished I was her lover. I left the dildo and let the vibrator do all the because I was sweating, it’s the alcohol. The third orgasm had her jerking her body and the sheet was soaked by her juices, well, around the ass. I forgave her. I stopped and she lay there squeezing her pussy with her thighs. I asked her if she was happy and she said she was out of breath. We went downstairs for breakfast and we said our long goodbyes. The next time we meet was not going to be at a hotel, our habit was getting expensive. I looked for a granny flat in my suburb and I found it. It was going work out cheaper for us. We could see each other more often because it was rented for a whole month. She could even cook for me. I was not ready for what she called food. What she does well is bake. She cooked beef this one time and when it was cooked she poured canned fruit and I was like what the fuck is this. I gave her cooking lessons, it was rather romantic actually. We had a good time together, it went from once every two weeks to once a week to a few times a week. We were practically moved in together. Even the closet had some of our clothes. I did not take her to my local pub because of those judgmental goons. I drank my whisky at our place while she cooked and later have wild sex and she could have her wild screams and no one would hear her.

It was time to turn it up a notch for our next rendezvous. I was going to fist fuck her, she was already on a big dildo diet. I could see that she was really happy and I could go as far as to say we were in a full blown relationship, I missed her when she was not around. The next weekend was the one for a good fist fuck. I tied her up so she couldn’t fight it. I started with a dildo and vibrator, she asked if she could cum and I told her it wasn’t time yet. I applied some lubricant on my hand started with two fingers and it went to three and soon enough my whole fist was in her and she was moaning and groaning. I played with her clit and she wailed in dramatic pleasure. It was as if she had never experienced anything like it, at first I thought I was hurting her and when asked if she could cum I gained confidence fist fucked quicker and tickled her clitoris. The vaginal wall is a powerful contraption. The contractions are amazing when the hand is in there as the tribes beat drums. I felt her body let go and she relaxed after a massive orgasm. I told her to write about that experience. She says it was like she was at the edge of a cliff and allowed herself to free fall not knowing what she might hit. It was a most freeing experience. Seeing her just laying there like a wet cloth and trembling I was taken aback. I untied her and poured myself a whisky. I was hungry and when she got to prepare to cook her knees buckled and I ran to help her. I would cook that day and she slept like a baby and only woke up to eat. She is older and I noticed that we were using more lubricant that could only mean menopause. I don’t like a woman in menopause, it was traumatic for me growing up and I will not take sass from a sub. She was happy I was with her all the way. I was already in it for the long haul and I wouldn’t leave her. She would feel abandoned, besides I was thinking of marrying her. I just had to get a divorce from my husband. hadn’t seen that bastard for years and I didn’t even know where he stayed in Cape Town. I wanted to marry her because she was everything I was looking for. We were on our second years and I was going to pop the question, I didn’t care if I was still legally married to the bastard, she knew everything I liked. I cooked her a wonderful dinner and after making love, we had upgraded to making love, I popped the question. What I said wasn’t super romantic, all she needed to know is she didn’t deplete me and I was going to make her officially my girl. She cried and said yes. She planned to introduce me to her children. My children were still very young and I was not going to confuse them with my proclivities. Her younger son was not happy I was black and the daughter was not happy I was younger than her mother and my qaydar was twitching on the older son and he was a bit understanding. I told them I loved their mother and as they could notice I make her happy. If they didn’t like that I was going to keep out of their way. I wasn’t planning to be friends with them anyway but we would go out for drinks sometimes. I would take them to my local pub and have a whale of a time. They didn’t hate me because their mother was happy. We planned a summer ceremony which was a year away.

The time was getting closer and I was shocked by what happened in the weeks leading up to the ceremony. First, I got a message from the sissy man and he was telling me he missed me. I hadn’t spoken to him for years and I was surprised and shocked. I told her about it and where we come from with the sissy man. I think she thought I was going to leave her. I was not going to leave her. I actually loved her and she was just what I was looking for. I assured and reassured her she had nothing to worry about. I assured her children I loved her and she was what I was looking for. I have been with her for two years and I have never given her any room for doubt. It looked like she was alriqht. The sissy man was coming to South Africa for a holiday and he wanted to say hi when he got here. I didn’t see anything wrong with that and she didn’t see anything wrong with that. I was reminded of just how good he looked in jeans. If you saw him walking down the road you would look in amazement at this attractive older gentleman. He looks good but that was not going to make me leave her. He came and went and we kept in touch as friends.

My husband out of all the people in the world started calling often. Now this bastard did not support his children anymore and he was calling and accusing me of neglecting him. I stopped calling him after a year of begging him to support his children and now he says it was my fault things turned out the way they did. I reminded him of how things actually went down and he said I should be happy I’m at home. So he called me to tell me such nonsense. He didn’t stop calling and said I must think of getting back with him for the children. I know what happens to people that stay for the children, they became miserable and take it out on the children. I didn’t even tell her that the father of my children was courting me. I was not even thinking about him, what a bore and irritation for him to come at me like that. Before I could get my bearings I met the guy with a twitching face when drunk and also told me that he missed me. I was flawed at this rear happenings. I took her older son out for a drink to discuss the recent events. She was feeling uncertain about our future because the calls came in while she was there. I answered the calls and texts in front of her because I didn’t want to hide anything but she was always depressed and I couldn’t have sex every hour. I had to talk to someone and her son sequester she answers the calls and take a message. We tried that and the guy with a twitching face swore at her and my husband asked her just who the fuck she is answering my phone at night. She was upset about that. Her upset was a disrespect to me. My husband was planning on coming to see me and our children. He planned to come in the December summer holidays. That is when the ceremony was set to take place in December. It was master conflict for her, it was irritation for me. The husband will eventually know I have found someone I love. It was easy to deal with the guy with a twitching face when drunk was easy to deal with but difficult to get rid of. He never had a girlfriend after me around Margate and he would come to my place of work. What made him keep at it is he never saw me with a man after him and he immediately assumed I still secretly wanted to be with him. I told her that we should go to the pub so people should know I have my girl. That made her happy. It was planned for the next weekend. I asked her older son to be there to support her because I know the guy with a twitching face when drunk, when he sees that I have someone with me he will start acting a fool. He saw me sitting with her and assumed we were just friends and forged his way over to me to greet me. I introduced my girl as my girlfriend. He was shocked and he would stand next to us and go on and on about whores and sluts who were Christians and believed in a religion that was not theirs. What whore was impregnated by the holy spirit and what slut follows that. From whom have I inherited such slutery. Its all the same shit everyday. Luckily I had warned them about this bastard but she was in fear of her life. He was not going to harm her. And when we left I told her we were not going to receive anymore calls from the guy with a twitching face when drunk anymore. It was necessary for us to do that. Unfortunately the guy with a twitching face when drunk was blacked out when we met, he didn’t remember anything because he came to my work place. So we had to do this all over again. The next weekend we got there early and I could see the guy had just arrived from work and as usual he came to greet us thinking she was my friend and I introduced her as my girlfriend and they exchanged pleasantries. We had to leave before this bastard got drunk and insult us about Christianity and whores and slut. I passed the message I wanted to. You would think I’m telling lies when I say he continued calling asking why I would lie and tell him I was a lesbian and was he that bad of a boyfriend that I would create such a story. I stopped answering his calls and I stopped accepting a lift from him. He finally got it but I don’t think it was the in a relationship with a woman part. It was not accepting a lift that got him. He was happy to sit next to me and he thought I was happy about that. At least one less person calling made her a little at ease but it was at a cost because the guy with a twitching face went to my mother and told her about my old hag of a girlfriend and I had a lot of explaining to do. No matter how hard one tries blood will always be thicker than water. I rubbished the whole story and told my mother he just wants me back. The date for the ceremony was getting closer and the father of my children was set to come around those dates. I didn’t have any love lost with the father of my children and I didn’t care if he knew I was about to have a ceremony in fact I wanted him to be shocked and hurt by my loving and marrying her. I wanted him to feel the pain and anger of being abandoned. I wanted him to feel the agony of rejection, he can go to the nearest hell. He was to arrive on a Monday and the ceremony on Saturday, he booked a room at the hotel for a week. My younger son has never seen him ever in his life and he hadn’t sent money in years and said it was my fault that we ended up here and he had the audacity to talk sweet to me talking about sex. He makes so angry and irradiated. You know that ball on your throat that doesn’t want to go down because you cant get rid of the tears that have been building up for years but you kept pushing them down and when they well up you tilt your head and look up hoping they never make it down your cheeks. You know the feeling of hopelessness because its so cold outside and you have to send your children to school without any jerseys on because you couldn’t afford to buy them. You know that feeling of leaving with a guy with a twitching face when drunk who is verbally abusive to you just because its just something to do. You know the feeling of not being able to speak your mind because your mother might throw you out of her house. You know the feeling of asking your sister for money just to buy your sons jerseys and having your mother say the jerseys are not important, your children can be cold for now, she needs to buy something else with that money. You know the feeling of looking for a job and not finding it and praying to God to please bless you with a job and because God is so angry at you he never does. You know the feeling of saying an angry God is still God. I couldn’t wait to hurt him.

He had the audacity to want to give me a hug when he saw me. I couldn’t wait for him to see me with her. I couldn’t wait for him to see me loving someone. Fuck him, I hate him so much. He called me to his hotel room hoping to sleep with me and gave him some excuse of why I couldn’t make it. On Saturday he called and I told him where I was. We were saying our vows of commitment because we couldn’t get legally married because I was still married to this fucking bastard. I told him I was at a wedding and he asked if he could come and watch, I gave him the address. When he came in the building, he saw me and her at the altar with just a her children and he asked what the hell was going on. His thunderous voice told everyone that I was his wife. We all knew that and we asked him to sit down or leave. He thought it was a joke and said he will sit down and when we took out the rings I saw it sink in and he got up and left. He went to my house and said he was taking my children with him and said they were not going to be raised by a lesbian. My mother was not going to hear that because she called him to ask him to send money for the boys and he said he will do it in two hours and he never did. I left my fresh bride to go and fix what was happening at home. I got home and he was shouting and saying his children must be with their father. That was not going to happen I said an he slapped me across the face, I called the police and he was arrested and stayed the night in the cells. I dropped the charges the next day because my children were traumatised. I told him to take his stuff and leave and the next time he gets someone pregnant he should support his children. He left angry, hurt and I know his spiteful behaviour that he was plotting his comeback. I felt sorry for my younger son who saw his father in this bad light after just days of actually meeting him. I told him I want a divorce because I want to legally marry my girl. He was so angry and emasculated because a women who took his woman. I was indignant and enraged and adamant on loving her. She was happy I proved my love for her. I told her to go ahead and feel special because unless it was absolutely necessary I was not going to jump through hoops again to prove anything. I could see the amount of respect her children had for me. It was a slow clap standing ovation. If they knew what I was doing to their mother in bed their slow clap standing ovation would turn into master conflict and maybe disgust.

My mother was confused by all of this. I mean, I was married and have children and to suddenly hear that I had a wife. I rubbished it and told her I was married and have children, how does one become a husband after that and if I was married where was this makoti. She agreed with me, she’s old and these things are confusing. I told my husband I want a divorce as soon as possible and he disappeared again. He was not that important to me but I will feel sorry for my children. They are boys and they need a father figure in their lives. I will not rely on my brother, he is so lazy and always in his bedroom even his sons are confused about their manhood. No father figure there and no matter how tough I act I am a woman.

It was a rocky start for her and I because of what transpired. We had a long road ahead. Because she was not allowed to sass me, I would give her one hour a week to tell me about her feelings or if I don’t feel like listening to her going on and on and seeing her crying about her feelings I would tell her to write me a letter. She was complaining about my drinking in one letter. I told her I couldn’t stop drinking, it suits me, but I am a reasonable person so I can tone it down. We didn’t move in together but we kept our cranny flat and we would be a married couple there. I would make sure I don’t drink on the second day so if she came on Saturday I would not drink on Sunday. That helped me as well because on Monday I was fresh as a daisy. She asked if she could sell her house because her children moved out and the house is too big for her and I told her that would be a wrong move. Why sell something you own and she told me she would move into the granny flat. It was not a well thought out move on her part. She wanted to be close to me in hopes that I would be with her all the time. I had to lay out the cons versus the pros. Con, she would have to commute to work. Pro, she would be closer to me. Con, she will be selling a family home they have lived in for years. Pro, she would move into the granny flat she doesn’t own to be closer to me. Con, I won’t be with her all the time because my children are still young and they need me to look after them. Pro, she loves me and she wants to be close to me.

Like I said I am a reasonable person, I told her not to sell the house but rent it out. She could come live close to me but she must understand I wont be with her everyday but if it was an easy going day I would swing by the flat and have my way with her. It looked like we had an understanding. I would find her depressed watching television when I had time. I would creep in on her sometimes and stand behind the sofa and ask her why she is depressed. She would jump for joy and give me a hug. I am captivating. And sometimes I would sing while I was still at the gate so she can prepare herself for my grand entrance. The woman could not get enough of me. I made time for her. She would pick me up for work and pick me up from work. The guy who was courting me at work now believed me when I finally introduced him to my wife. I don’t look butch so when I tell any person I have a wife they find it hard to believe.

The sissy man kept in contact, they became good friends and I credit that to my ability to be in control.

Three years went by with us inseparable and she was starting to be cold for no reason and thirsty. I thought she just wanted to go out with me for a drink but she doesn’t drink alcohol. She still had some spirit in her but she was becoming fragile and frail. There were some things I couldn’t do with or to her. She would bruise easily and sometimes not even know when she got the bruise, she was an older woman but I would expect this type of bruising from a 90 year old. The doctors didn’t know what was wrong with her and did some blood work. It was diabetes and high blood pressure. Her blood sugar was so high that if we went a week later she could have died. I taught her how to cook but I guess if I was not there she would eat junk food. I have children I have to take care of and cook for and I couldn’t go to our flat and cook for her so I would cook enough meals for her to last a week. Healthy nutritious foods. She was getting better and looking healthier and gaining some of the weight she had lost before we found out she had diabetes. Her children were very grateful to me for taking care of her, I even stopped drinking for some time when she was not looking good. I can not express the pain of seeing your loved one not being able to carry her weight and needing you so much. I wished my love for her could envelope her with strength and courage. I made time as much as possible to take care of her. I could be there all the time and I could see she wasn’t taking care of herself when I was not there. I don’t understand what she was trying to do because I would come back and find the food not eaten and take always. I was away for a week and when I came back I found the door locked but the key was inside. I asked the neighbours if they had seen her and they haven’t seen her. I called her children and they hadn’t heard from her. The windows were closed and curtains drawn. I called the landlord to ask for permission to call the locksmith. I was afraid of what I would find inside. Her children arrived and we waited for the locksmith. I couldn’t bare to go inside and find her no more. I went in and the stench that welcomed me was unbearable. She was sleeping on the sofa and she looked at me with these hollow distant eyes. Her spirited eyes were gone. She didn’t even say anything, she just looked at me and looked away. We took her to the hospital and I would go see her and find the nurses frustrated because she wouldn’t eat. I bought what she liked and she wouldn’t eat that and I would get so frustrated with her. I don’t know what her intention was. I went to see her at the hospital on Thursday and on Friday I got a call. I didn’t even say goodbye to her because I was going to see her on Friday after work. I cleaned the flat but she never made it back to our nest. She died in hospital all alone. Her children were devastated, I was depressed and angry at her for leaving like that. She gave up too easily. I sometimes blame myself for leaving her for a week. If I was around I could have seen she was not well. I couldn’t get my mind around why she felt it was easier for her to be gone. She knew I loved her and I think my love for her was not enough. We buried her the next week. It was just me, her children and sissy man. He came to bury his friend and for my moral support. As soon as he came I fell into his arms and bowled my eyes out. A place of master conflict because I am this strong infallible being to him and for him to see me in such a state was unsettling. He stayed for a week after that.

I had to get her affairs in order. We never discussed anything about anything. Her lawyer did have a will. It was recently changed and I was to inherit everything except for the house. Her children inherited the house. They were not happy about that and they gave me all sorts of names. I have never seen such intentional gauge at the heart attacks by people I was friends with. I was going to give them some of the money but after that sheer cruelty I kept it. I was depressed and I threw myself at alcohol. It was the only thing that could calm me down. I slept on the kitchen floor with a bottle of Jack in a foetal position many times. My children did not understand and I had o rethink my depression. I knew if I would continue in this path it would be an insult to her memory. I stopped drinking for some time and let myself mourn the love of my life. And I let my children have their mother. I kept the clothes she was most fond of and gave the rest to charity. I opened a health food restaurant in her name. It was very profitable and I asked her older son to join me in opening another branch. At first it was as if I was asking him for his other testicle. I told him my plan to open a chain of restaurants across the country. He came on board when I told him he would have shares in the franchise. I am not a greedy person and maybe her decision to leave me most of the inheritance was a wake up call for her children. I was open to having all her children be part of the franchise but I didn’t want sabotage. I knew the older one would give it his full attention and maybe when the other ones saw it was working for everyone involved they would want to be part of it. It was hard work and it was worth it. By the third year we were on our third store and we needed help. Her other children came on board. Like I said I am not a greedy person and whoever gives me a chance finds out. Three years had gone by and my mourning was better and I had given myself to work I didn’t have time to think about companionship. I know one person who loves me. But there was that little problem that was always a stumbling block. I told him we needed to rework our friendship. I was not going out there looking for so called love. I was not prepared to put myself out there. I was sure I was never going to find anyone like her but sissy man came close enough. He supported me when I was grieving. We started going on dates, I told him we needed to take it slow. I was going to think about the strap on dildo because I was not young and I wasn’t that horny anymore. And the strap on would work both ways. I had a lot of reasoning to do so I needed whisky and some company. I called a guy friend of mine and I told I don’t want any buzzards, just me and him at the pub of course. They circled but I was adamant on just a good time. We talked about my predicament and I was getting lonely and sissy man was the only one who understood my proclivities. My whisky reasoning side was all for it but my level headed side had reservations. I went to see him for a week and see how we were going to do this. I told him to speak freely and make decisions like he would when at work. He wanted to make it work, he has never stopped loving me. I was drunk the whole time he was speaking and I try to remember what he was saying. We bought the strap on dildo the next day and as soon as we got back I poured myself a whisky and I told him to drink as well. If we were going to start something I was not comfortable with I was going to do it like a prostitute and be zonked. And true enough the idea grew on me. He is already a very good looking man, all I have to concentrate on is his upper body and legs, not middle. His Eden has not tree of life. We drank and ate and got comfortable. I kissed him. I told him to just put the strap on before we even start anything because I know myself I will be very frustrated if he had to get up and wear a dildo. He tried to be some sort of comfort but I told him to shut up and wear the dildo. We kissed and fondled, I held his body as he entered me. Because he works out he has the stamina of a stallion and because there was no plan for him to ejeculate he lasted longer. We were on every position imaginable until I dried up. We flopped on the bed spent. I rested on his chest and stroked his upper body. I was happy with myself and by his perfomance. I didn’t even continue drinking the whisky, I was spent. We slept in each others arms and in the morning it was time for round two. It was more decadent and thought out this time but I felt uneasy because he was taking the lead. He cant take the lead he is wearing a dildo and he can;t tell me what to do. This was going to be hard for me I could see but we got through it and I even came. As soon as we finished I told him to wear his girl panties. I wanted to bring him down a little. He was getting too big for his shoes.

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