Rachel Succumbs

Rachel succumbed to compliments, comments about the quality of her eyes, and my going with her suggestions from the menu. By declaring myself very satisfied with the food she selected for me, her body language spoke of the joy she had of serving me because I spoke to her as to a friend.

She felt no resistance when I asked her if she was married or at least had a boyfriend, to which she answered in the negative without hesitation.

"But I am working on something," she added uncertainly. On asking if I should leave my number on the back of the paid bill, she instantly left me with her phone to save it thereon. She did not even bother remove the call log which had been on her screen, not seeming to mind that I would see she had been called by "bff" among others.

I had not encountered such confidence in a woman before. It amounted to a declaration that she wanted me, perhaps even to replace the current man in her life. This is a heady wine, which goes straight to one's brain. Certainly it has gone to mine.

Her dark eyes, long legs and smallish tits pulled my eyes in her direction whenever she passed either towards the kitchen to place customers' orders or to the tables to deliver them. Sometimes she looked towards me, and sent me at look, her mouth hidden by the facemask. This had the effect of electrifying me.

I was going to Mombasa the following week on a job for the Railways to update their traffic systems. They would pay for my ticket and accommodation for the duration. It came into my mind to ask Rachel to take a three-day off, so that I can make her dream of going down to the coast come true. I could easily handle those expenses.

When she came to my table to clear it, I said to her, "I shall walk you to the railway line after you close."

In her typically unemotional way she said simply, "That's ok". In the event it took a bit of doing since they had to clean up after customers had left; I waited in a cheap cafe for her to come out. On the short walk I held her hand, which I found damp with sweat. Plainly she was excited by my presence as well as my action. In my mind I fantasised that I would take her all the way into her house, hold her tenderly, maybe even kiss her. Then I would share my news.

It did not work out quite like that.

After crossing the railway line, I did not stop or signal that I would turn back. I decided to test the limits of how far she would be comfortable going with me. Under a large tree as we walked slowly we noticed a man following us closely, as if he wanted to hear our every word. I stopped suddenly, touching her hand to signal that she should as well. The man stopped a short distance behind us. I spun round and demanded what he wanted. He hurried off down the slope in the direction that she would take. She was trembling with a mild fear.

"What would that man have done to me had I been alone," she asked tremulously.

"Beats me!" I said. "What kind of neighbourhood is this?" So it was decided for us that I would not turn back before making sure she was safe.

At her gate she looked at me doubtfully as if she was not sure I was the kind of fellow who could be allowed into her house safely. But I kept my own counsel. She pushed it open and let me through. She got to her door, opened it and threw me another doubtful look, but overcame it.

"Won't you come in?"

"I don't think tea is ready, since the fires are down," I joked, but squeezed myself through the half-open door.

I drew her into my arms after closing the door behind me. I felt faint shivers coursing through her body probably caused by that small scare under the tree. Or perhaps something else "You are now safe in your own house."

She squeezed me back tightly in the first hug we had enjoyed since we met. I kissed her forehead causing her breath to catch in her throat. "I wish you could keep me company longer. But the transport to town dries up quite early on a Monday like today."

"I have a far better proposition." She looked up into my eyes with some alarm.

"How would you like to go to Mombasa next week?" Now her face wore a look like I had played a cruel joke on her. "How would I do that? I could never afford it on the salary they pay..." She trailed off when she saw the smile on my face.

"I am going on a short engagement there and I want you to come with me." She fell silent for several heartbeats.

"Are you for real, Dennis?" I just continued looking at her with a smile playing on my lips. "I can't believe what you're saying!"

"Don't give me an answer right away. I will take breakfast from you in the morning. I enjoy fantasizing that you made it especially for your lover. Me!"

I peeled myself from her body gently. "I must be going, or your creepy friend might do something horrible to me."

That made her mind up. "Ok see you in the morning," she said in a weak voice.

"Good night, sleep tight," I kissed her cheek, bringing a slight tremor to her body. I squeezed myself out through the narrow gap in the doorway.

I took my breakfasts, lunches or dinners from her a number of times during that week. On the Wednesday, I showed her the two tickets I had obtained. She now believed she was really going to Mombasa.

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We arrived at the Central Railway Station some ten minutes before the six am departure of the commuter service to the Nairobi Terminus. This ran on the century-old meter-gauge line of the former East African Railways, which had become Kenya Railways some forty years before. The new Standard Gauge line converged with a branch of the old meaning that passengers disembarked on the platform inside the Terminus, making it super-convenient for them.

In less than ten minutes of arriving at the Terminus we had the tickets printed and were seated in the passenger lounge. Some fifteen minutes later, Rachel was so eager to see the inside of the train that I had to tell her, "Darling we will be in that coach for nearly five hours! You will probably become thoroughly sick and tired of it."

To her delight the voice came telling passengers for Mombasa that they could now embark. She ran off leaving her bags with me, who laughed at her retreating back. I carried the bags down the elevators to find her standing on the platform. "The coaches all look alike!"

"Here, take the tickets and show them to the attendant of coach number 11" Off she ran like an eager young child. I followed at a more sedate pace.

The journey gave us the first opportunity to be with each other and to really talk to one another. I sought to reassure her. "We, who are men typically run after you women in order to have sex with you. It's a deep evolutionary need to make sure the human race survives, not necessarily because men are cruel or that they do not respect women. I, on the other hand will want to build our love first, without ever asking you for sex." I was holding her hand as she looked at my face as if examining it. I looked back at her frankly. I noticed a questioning look.

"Not because my body does not function properly, or that you are not sexy enough. I find you wildly attractive. But sex is not the main thing; love is, while sex will only be a servant of love, a confirmation of it, or if you like, a celebration of that love." Now she looked thoroughly impressed, her hand squeezing mine in pleasure.

"You make me so proud to have met such a gentleman. My bff was so keen to get me into bed, and I had to exert so much effort to hold him off as long as I could before I gave in. When I did, I made sure he paid for every little one of my living expenses. I was not being mercenary or had become a prostitute. No, I knew he had reached the top of his Everest. There was nowhere else to go but down. Indeed the relationship, as we speak, has really deteriorated."

I knew I had touched her very spirit with this assurance. I truly wanted to give this lovely young woman my love with the utmost respect. She must feel dignity in receiving my love and in returning it.

She lay sideways so that her head came to my lap. I put my arm on her waist and rubbed her gently. Presently I heard her breathing get deeper; she had fallen asleep, leaving me to weave my thoughts of what the future held for both of us.

Much later she woke, rubbed her eyes and stared out of the window. After a while she remarked that she could tell we were nearing our destination. "Why? What shows?" I wanted to see what her reasons were.

They were solid. "Palm trees. But where is the ocean?"

"You will see some water in a short while. But it will not be the ocean proper yet."

About quarter of an hour before the expected arrival time, I pointed out large pools of water on the right. They seemed to be still far. She was fidgeting with excitement, giving my further reward of deciding to bring her with me.

As the train slowed down to about 50kph, she wanted to know why. "We must arrive at 12:45 exactly. Not a minute earlier so the driver has killed the speed to ensure he arrives right on time."

"Wow, somehow I can't believe that happens in this country. Why, almost everyone I know thinks it's too much fuss to be on time, reasoning that everyone else will be late anyway."

The train slid into the station smoothly and came to a dead stop at 12:45. She grabbed me into a hug as if I had anything to do with this strict timekeeping. I hugged her back in sheer happiness. We left the train, used the platform and the tunnels until we emerged into the car park where vehicles to various destinations waited. Their touts held large boards declaring these places. But the official with whom I would be working was meeting me. He showed us to the company car and whisked us away to town and the hotel booked for me. I took opportunity to change bookings so that my darling would join me in the double room. I took the railway official aside and reassured him that I would personally take care of her expenses. He promised to come and pick me up at the hotel lobby in the morning.

Our bags were taken up to the room while we had lunch in the restaurant, drawing it out into an hour and a half. Afterwards we took a stroll around town, showing her some interesting sights but the heat of the coastal town eventually wore her down.

Back at the hotel we went up to the room. She looked around and zeroed in on the bed.

"You want us to sleep in the same bed? Didn't you lie to me that there would be no sex between us?"

"There is so much space on that bed that you can crawl away from me to the edge. You can even sleep in bikers." This last was not exactly honest of me, seeing that it never gets cool even at night on Mombasa.

She regarded me suspiciously but her self-control, as rigid as ever prevented her saying anything further.

"Wanna take a shower?" I prompted her.

She made a move towards her suitcase, stopped and then lifted it gingerly onto the bed as if it contained eggs. I had never seen such hesitancy in her movements before, she who was always so brisk. She took out her clothes and toiletry bag and went into the bathroom. I thought she would have a bit of a challenge dealing with two sets of clothes inside there. I flung myself onto the near side of the bed, indicating that hers was the inside one.

She came out fully dressed in a tee and three-quarter trouser. I peeled off my clothes, threw them on the bed, took the fresh ones out and laid them out before vanishing into the bathroom in my underwear. I thought she sneaked a look at my front. She could not have failed to notice my equipment under the fabric.

I came out in the same attire, not having dried my torso, allowing the water to evaporate off my skin, thereby cooling me down. Mombasa temperatures can get one sweating immediately out of the shower, which makes one very uncomfortable. I paced up and down to create a wind effect for the cooling to take place faster. Then I decided not to put on any clothes just yet. I lay on the bed in just my underwear. She looked askance at me and I heard, or felt, her decision not to comment on my state of undress. It's well known that women are not so much affected by sight as by touch. Had she been the one parading herself thus, I could not fail to be aroused to lust!

I must have dozed off, for the next thing I knew was the sun shining through the window into my face as it sat low on the horizon. Rachel was curled on her side fast asleep, to judge from her breathing. I took a look at my phone, replied to a few messages and then read the latest news from the BBC. I lay on my side soaking in the sounds of the streets outside. Each place has its own unique combination of sounds at sundown.

Not wanting to strain her self-control any more tonight, I got up and dressed. Those movements must have woken her up.

"Going somewhere?" she asked me.

I pretended to be on the point of pulling off my tee. "No, I have just come back from downstairs."

She snorted derisively. "To visit your official girlfriend?" To my surprise there was a note of something like jealousy although on the surface she was joking.

I kept it light. "I was afraid her perfume was still lingering on my person, so I was on the way to the shower."

"Alright, I won't stop you," while eyeing me challengingly.

"You win!" I laughed. "Shall we go look for some nourishment?"

"Just now?" She rubbed her tummy. "My system has not yet finished with the previous offerings. Can we give it an hour or so?"

I lay back on the bed, not taking any care to distance myself from her, since we were fully dressed. I took the chance that I presented no danger to her. Those concerns were sure to return in force at night, but for now I was relaxed.

We talked about ourselves. She told me of her son whom she had had immediately after school.

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She had delighted her Catholic parents by her decision to become a nun. To have a member of their family serving the church would give them a measure of prestige. Unfortunately for both her and her parents, the headmaster of the neighboring school who was a family friend from before she could remember had renewed his interest in her during the last two years of her schooling. Since he had made the usual jokes about marrying her when she was tiny, she had not thought much of it until, in the August holiday before she sat her final exam, he had asked her to go with him to the city. She did not bother to tell anybody since she looked upon him as a trusted personage.

He bought her a nice lunch in an upmarket restaurant then took her to a secluded house on Forest Road near the National Museum. Before she realised it he had booked a room. She tried to refuse but he browbeat her using his headmaster's authority and that longstanding friendship with her parents. She was dragged into the room and made to undress. He had by now abandoned all pretence at being the nice man she had always known. He was now no more than an animal on heat. Her strength was no match for his frenzied energies fired by lust. Wrestling her onto the bed after undressing himself in undignified hurry, he parted her legs with great strength. She felt his hardness painfully parting her vaginal lips. The pain was excruciating yet he took no notice of her discomfort.

As he continued thrusting cruelly into her most private part, suddenly here was a hot, searing pain. She screamed at the top of her lungs, but he clapped a right hand over her mouth. He was making rough movements between her legs injuring her more with each thrust. Then he groaned like he too, had been wounded by a spear in his back, which afforded her some relief from the pain. He trembled for a few seconds before she felt him go limp all of a sudden, slumping his whole weight on her chest. Now she could barely breathe let alone call for help. She tried to push him off but her slender hands were no good. Finally she felt him slip out of her, leaving a wetness trailing on her thigh. Then he rolled off to her side and immediately began snoring loudly. She could only lie there feeling defiled, dirty and unworthy. Even then she felt she had become unfit of ever being a nun, and that there was no way she could tell her parents what their friend had done to her.

"Why didn't you tell us where you were going? It means you had accepted it," they would say. As it was she still had to explain her absence. Most unfairly she could not tell them the full story without bringing the blame upon herself. Moreover it would also become her fault for messing up her chance to bring honour to the whole family by becoming a nun, a servant of God.

In a daze she felt him wake up, order her to clean herself up and put on her clothes. He went into the bathroom and dressed, after which she was dimly aware that they were in his car on the way back home.

She could not tell me what excuse she gave for being away from home the whole day, but she could relate the full horror of having to tell her mother, three months later, that she was pregnant.

"Who is the father?" But she could hardly point a finger at their old friend and a headmaster to boot. Headmasters simply did not do such things! Who did she lay the blame on? She could not really recall what she had said. Her mother was livid that she was not going into the convent, although she was too refined to be unkind to her daughter. Nevertheless both parents subjected her to snubs and slights to impress it in her that she had let them down badly. They did pay for her antenatal clinic visits as well as clear the maternity hospital bills and buy the baby's clothes.

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As we lay on our bed that late afternoon in Mombasa the boy was three years old.

How glad I was that I had bared my soul to her on the train as we came down! She was a woman whose earliest experience of sex was a sour one. She was not going to rush into it without reservation with me or anyone else. Yet this trip she had agreed to come on now sounded like a near-replica of that tragic one.

We came back from a very satisfying dinner in a restaurant just down the road. I knew the moment of truth was near. Would she freak out over our sleeping arrangements? After fetching the key card from the reception desk, we headed to the lift. I hugged her while we waited for it to arrive.

"Don't you know someone may be coming down in the lift and will find us like this?" she tried to pull away from me, but I did not let her. The lift door opened and there were indeed people coming off. One was an old couple with hands around each other as they manouvred their way out. I made a sound in my throat as if to tell her, "you see?"

Up we went to our floor where I grabbed her in another hug. She seemed to be enjoying my arms about her, but unwilling to let me see it. As both my hands were occupied, I gave her the card to open the door, which she did. Once inside, I turned her to face me and kissed her powerfully. She seemed to wither in my arms. I manouvred her to the side of the bed and let her sit down, but did not relent in kissing her. She was moaning into my mouth and her arms were now loosely around my body, beginning to enjoy what I was giving her.

We fell onto our backs on the bed. By now her tongue was wrestling with mine in true expert fashion. I tried to slow proceedings but she appeared to want to keep going. So I pulled slightly away without releasing her mouth and peeled off my shirt. I pulled the bottom of her t-shirt in an effort to remove it, but this called for us to break our kiss. It was only briefly before we went back to devouring each other raw. I exerted my efforts to unbutton her trousers and succeeded, and then did the same to mine.

It would have been easier to break the kiss and get the clothes off but Rachel did not want to stop. By and large we removed all our clothing and our legs were intertwined. Now that my hands were free, I took the liberty of visiting her tits. As soon as I held a nipple between my fingers she jerked in pleasure. I have told you that she had smallish tits, but I had not mentioned that they are very firm, despite having nursed a boy only three years earlier. I could fit the whole tit in my palm, giving her gentle squeezes now and then, which drove her yet higher on the scale of lust. She was humping my leg with her groin, begging me wordlessly to bring her to satisfaction.