Love Brewed in an East African Pot

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As they huddled together in their apartment on Sycamore Avenue in Minneapolis, the riots continued on the streets. An African American had been killed the process of arrest by police. Major cities had experienced massive riots, protesting the killing within the wider context of race relations. Businesses, homes, schools and even churches had been burnt to the ground. The two, husband and wife had come to this country some five years earlier and settled down very well. Now they cast their minds, with some longing, back to another time, another continent.

Walter had gone to Dar-es-Salaam to start off a new branch of his boss’ company. Hellen worked with a gold and diamond mining company, at the Mwanza branch, more than a thousand kilometres to the west. One look at each other was enough to get them excited in a vague way they could not define right away. She and a colleague had been seconded to the training course run by Walter’s new company. They would cover five different computer programmes, each lasting a between three and five days, so that the whole course would take somewhat over two weeks. Two weeks in which Hellen developed a deep admiration of their tutor, especially his fluent English which she now wanted to learn. In her country they used Kiswahili for most communications, their language experts having created words for all spheres, from science and technology, to medical and business vocabulary. Tanzanians did not really need English, Latin, or Greek words to study any subject, much like the French, Indians or Brazillians had done in their own languages. Thus English was an attractive new gem she desired.

One Sunday afternoon Walter decided to go and visit the two at the hostel at which they were staying. He found Hellen all by herself, because her colleague had gone to visit her family in Dodoma, a mere hour’s drive away; Hellen could not travel to her family in far-away Pare and be back in time for Monday morning. They sat on wooden chairs in the sunshine as they talked, becoming so engrossed that they failed to notice how the time had flown. With a start they realised that the sun had cooled and dusk was already coming on. Laughing at themselves they decided to have dinner in town.

This was where their lives were changed for all eternity.

As they sat eating their meal, his leg bumped into hers under the table. He was saw her eyes roll as if a deep emotion like sadness, or perhaps joy had seized her for a moment.

“What is the matter, Hellen?” he asked in a concerned voice, at the same time laying a palm on her knee. She drew in a huge breath, closing her eyes completely. He now worried that she had fallen ill, yet he had no knowledge of where to find a hospital, a doctor or even a pharmacy nearby.

“I don’t know what you have put through my body with your touch,” she said in a weak voice, much to his relief. In the next moment it turned into delight that he could affect a woman so powerfully by the mere touch of his knee on hers. After a further moment she seemed to have recovered enough to look him in the face and plead with him, “Your touch is too powerful for me. Please don’t do it again while we eat.”

He was amazed that he had not met this woman little over a anadolu yakası escort week ago, yet here they were getting sexually excited about each other. “Does your body behave like that with men?”

“No, never!” she said vehemently. “I do not even remember when I last had a man in my life.” Here she unraveled her life story, of her marriage coming apart at the seams more than five years before, leaving her to bring up a son and a daughter by herself. He felt drawn to share that he too had suffered a somewhat similar fate some months earlier. It need hardly be said that they spent that night together. They found unprecedented delight and pleasure in each other.

On the short walk from the restaurant to his house, they had stopped a few times to hold each other and kiss, almost deciding to dive into the bushes to have a go at each other. They had managed to hold themselves until they came to his door and almost tumbled inside in their hurry to grab each other in private. On his kissing her, the knees gave way suddenly and they fell onto the floor, where they held and fondled, driving themselves as high as kites.

“Let’s go to the bedroom!” He pulled her up and walked her down the corridor with his arm around her waist, stopping once or twice to plant his lips on hers. They discarded all clothing as soon as they were in the door. He enjoyed the feel of her full, mature body, slightly sagging breasts and thick thighs. They fell onto the bed. His mouth on her breast, his cock was squashed between their thighs. By tacit agreement, they moved their bodies so that its helmet was at her entrance pushing against the outer lips. He pushed to get past the lips and pulled away a bit. Another push and he was beyond the lips, in her warm moistness.

“Aah, you are so sweet my love!” he crowed. He could not remember such warm tightness in a woman. He thrust to give her more of him.

“No, you are the sweet one, my wonderful man!” This together with her grasp on his cock, gave him so much pleasure that he nearly came, but he could feel she was not anywhere near herself. Pausing for a few heartbeats he began thrusting firmly into her. An inspiration came to him to grasp a nipple between the fingers of his right hand which was free; his left was supporting his torso so as not to put his whole weight on her chest. As soon as he did so he felt a sudden twitch run through her body. He twirled it, keeping a constant pressure, while pumping away in her cunt. He felt, then heard, a jet of warm juices spraying his stem. She had come.

He kept right on with his rhythm on her nipple and inside her cunt. Only a few strokes later her body stiffened again as a jet flowed out of her. This was the first multi-orgasmic woman he had ever encountered. Now more slippery than at first his cock was sliding in and out with greater ease. He increased his frequency until he was going like a sewing machine needle. As he poured his man juice into his beloved, he could hear the evidence of the spurt washing his cock at that very moment as she hit yet another orgasm. She was merely growling like an animal in pain at this point, all speech denied her.

When she had calmed down a bit, she ataşehir escort wrapped her arms around him, kissed him tenderly. “Oooh, my wonderful man, where have you been all my life?”

“I never want to be without you ever again til my dying day!” declared he, with his cock still embedded in her. It was slowly shrinking but it was still capable of exciting her to white heat again.

The training program over, Hellen returned to Mwanza and in due course, Walter to Nairobi. A veritable flurry of letters, and phone calls populated the following month before he flew out of Nairobi to visit her and her family. The daughter being the elder at six years, took to him with ease, while her three-year old brother took a little longer to accept him. Hellen’s younger sister was also staying with her as she went to accounting college. Andrew insisted on staying at a hostel as guest houses were called in that country. After putting the kids to bed she came to visit him at the guest house.

He hugged her hungrily and discarded the khanga she had wrapped herself in, the place being a very warm one, even in the evenings. He gave her breasts a cursory visit with his fingers before attacking them with his mouth. She was so horny that she was groping at his underwear before she had even sat on the bed. It did not take more than a few moments to see them completely naked and his cock knocking at her cunt. He felt a coolness on her outer lips, from her having taken a bath just before. He slid gently into her sheath, feeling it warmly enveloping his stem.

“Welcome to your home, my man!” she cooed as she spread her legs wider. He gave her several strong strokes all the while whining into her neck. When he pushed a bit harder, he felt himself knocking against something. She jumped. At the next stroke he knocked at it again, sending her spiraling into her first orgasm.

“Aaah, you man! What have you come to do to me?” He felt the warmth of her juices on his stem. He did not relent but kept on giving her stroke after stroke. Again she groaned as more juices escaped her. Now he was sliding along more easily and she was thrashing her head on the pillow crying for mercy, which he knew she did not expect in the least. He was nearly at his apocalypse and he speeded up, the slipperiness of her cunt exciting him beyond endurance. He poured his essence into her depths.

“So sweet, my darling!” he moaned as he felt her release another jet. Before his cock became completely limp, he kept moving inside her, giving her the fourth orgasm.

She wrapped herself about him in sheer gratitude. “I am not letting you out of my grasp again. I want you fully in my life, and we shall be the balm for each other for all the hurt we have each suffered. I am so happy for the chain of circumstances that brought me to Dar last month. I feel as if I have known you since my schooldays! I accept and take you into my life.”

“If we could find a government official we should get married tomorrow,” he said, not really expecting that such good fortune could be theirs.

In the morning they did indeed go in search of information, which Hellen got from a friend. They were directed to the office of the district ‘mjumbe’ ümraniye escort (something like a district officer), and laid out their desire to be married. He told them it could be done on the Monday, when the family affairs officer would be in. “Bring all your identification papers with you.”

Andrew could hardy believe the turn of events that had brought him to having a woman who adored him, and whom he treasured, with a minimum of fuss.

By the time he got onto the bus home, not only did they have a marriage certificate, but they had made plans to bring him to live in Mwanza, while awaiting the fate of his immigration application to the United States. At the Embassy, after apprising them of his new status, he was required to lodge documents showing proof of the marriage, as well as all of Hellen’s papers. There was some back and forth before his application was updated with those new details. Then he was told it would go back to the beginning of the process as if it were a new application, though he could see, by numerous rubber stamps, that some departments had already given their approval, so he thought that it may sail through more smoothly than a completely virgin one.

He arrived in Mwanza a fortnight after his marriage to Hellen had been recorded by the Embassy. He was able, with his extensive experience, to find a job with a computer company within days of his arrival. The house he took was within a five-minute walking distance from Hellen’s. She told him absolutely never to think of, or imagine having to prepare his own meals there, but should always come to her house. In fact she went so far as to tell him to regard her house as his own. The following month they decided without so much as a discussion, that they should pay only one rent, so Hellen moved her family and belongings to his house which was the larger. They were very happy together, Hellen’s children, sister and herself. Now they were really a family.

He received news of his application five weeks after its re-lodging. It had been successful. He had half a year to gather himself together, get on a flight for his new home. Apple Computer had already recognised his expertise garnered in East Africa and offered him a job at their Minneapolis office. That was how they chose to live in that city. They were sure that Hellen would find a position quite soon given her extensive experience in administration. The two children would have the toughest time of all, transitioning to a fully English environment.

Finally the day came when they flew out of Mwanza for Dar-es-Salaam to take the trans-Atlantic flight to New York and onward to Minneapolis. They arrived at the onset of spring, a season neither of them had any experience of back home, where three were only two seasons, wet and dry. The temperatures were not too high and they almost thought it would be like home. Their joy at having migrated to the States was great, resulting in more closeness and stormy nights in bed.

All their expectations were fulfilled with the kids finding schools near home and Hellen finding a job after a month; he went straight into the job, where he amazed his new colleagues with his wide knowledge of Apple’s computers, software, history and philosophy. He fit right in as if he had been born to it. Life was good for his family.

Until these latest riots engulfed them. Suddenly they felt like strangers in a foreign land. Although the protests were in favour of blacks, they were aimed at American-born ones rather than migrants like themselves.

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