Although I Am Sold Not Yet Enjoyd Ch 02

I didn't expect to write a sequel, but here it is. Thanks for the positive comments on the previous story that gave me the impetus; I hope this one pleases too. Please vote if you like it. Thanks!

*****

We dozed. We didn't compose ourselves.

We lay on Mwali's bed in the darkness. Spooned together, my face in her frizzy black hair, breathing her precious scent. If one of us shifted and a shoulder brushed my lips, I kissed it gently. My top arm lay over her side and down across her soft tummy. Sometimes my hand would move by itself and brush her heavy breast, or find its way into her deep belly button.

Mwali made little drowsy noises. Sometimes she pushed her hips into my groin, or she would take my hand and put it on her thighs. The scent of her come mixed with her skin's special flavour. She scratched the soles of her feet on my toes.

In my own sleepy state I noticed my dick, not responding. This gorgeous girl, the one I had admired and fantasised about for so long, was rubbing her beautiful dark cheeks against me. We had been Shakespeare readers and now lovers together. She had come, squirting in my face; I had come, twice as we made love that afternoon. Then, my dick had been in charge of me! But now... we lay together as if our bodies had known all along this was what we should be doing. Skin to skin, love to love. Timeless.

But you can't trust a dick. I swear, they have their own ideas. I half-woke in the night and it was up and ready again. I had been rubbing it gently between Mwali's buttocks and now it wanted more. I pulled Mwali's hair back from her neck and kissed and nibbled her there. She wriggled approval. I reached round and hefted her breast, feeling its weight and perfect roundness. Her areole was starting to harden and push her nipple out. She rubbed her bottom against me more.

I pushed my dick down between her thighs. They were closed, but the resistance excited me. I spread some of my spit over the head and pushed in. Mwali pushed back, so I added more spit and pressed on. Mwali paused and felt me start to penetrate. Then she turned to me and smiled. Her teeth shone in the dim light.

Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said

Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,

She lifted her upper leg for me. "But get another one first!" she added, nodding to her bedside drawer. Shakespeare (for sure) and lust: what a combination.

Condom on, I knelt over her lower thigh. Leg up, hand on buttock, she was stretching her pussy wide, letting me see the bright pink inner folds, even in the semi-dark. I felt a surge of hot desire, mixed with tender love, at her offering herself to me.

I watched as I went in. My dick inside a girl, sliding in so easily, so naturally... so unbelievably. How could I be making love to this amazing person? It seemed too good to be true.

But it was true. All my senses said, wow. The skin between my legs felt her leg, my ears heard tiny wet noises as we moved, I smelt her spicy skin and her "wetness", my eyes took her in as she lay and caressed her own breasts and body. She lifted her nipple up to her mouth and licked it while giving me a lustful gaze.

Then she started rubbing my torso. With her foot. She stretched her leg up and with the hard sole of her foot she brushed up my chest and over my nipples. It was fantastic. I ran my hand over her leg as she did it and she purred. As I stroked her leg I watched my dick sliding in and out of her pussy, tugging the lips with each push. I could run my fingers from her toes, down her leg, across her middle, over her breast and up her cheek into her hair. She closed her eyes and stretched like a cat every time I did this.

We set up an easy rhythm, stroking each other or just feeling the action of me bumping her. Mwali would close her eyes and smile, or look up at me and make a half-kiss, or whisper my name. Then she started panting.

"Oh Manny, you woke me up and I thought I would just give you the pleasure, but now I want it too!" She started to rub her body more and bring we hands down to feel my dick as it went into her. It got a lot more exciting and I wondered if I could hold on.

Breathing heavily now, Mwali stretched he pussy wide and rubbed her clit as I worked faster and faster. I could feel tremors in her legs. I was aware of cool air on my shoulders as my heat rose.

A little "ah!" came out with each breath as Mwali's orgasm grew. I felt her vagina get wetter and more slippery, then suddenly it squeezed me as she cried out and came.

Her come was everywhere, all over my balls, her inner thighs, her fingers. It brought my own orgasm racing up and suddenly I was coming, buried in her as deep as I could go. Mwali reached around her bottom and tightly held my leg against her.

My head was spinning. I seriously worried that I might fall down and hurt her. I couldn't work out where the edges of the bed were, so I hoped for the best as I flopped down beside her.

Nearly right. I missed crushing her, but as I lay on my back my head was over the edge, tilted back at a silly angle. I couldn't help laughing at myself. Then I noticed it made breathing easier. Mwali drew on my heaving chest with her fingernail.

After I time I wriggled up onto the bed. She was lying on her side smiling at me. I lay there and smiled back, unable to speak. She found my hand and gently held it. I felt so happy I could feel tears coming. Knowingly she whispered, "Manny," and the tears came. She brushed each one away as they ran over my nose.

My mouth was dry, but I didn't want to move. I just wanted to gaze it this incredible girl. But I moved my jaw and gave myself away. She propped her head up on her elbow.

"I think we are thirsty, maybe?" Then we both had the same thought: we've missed dinner! Suddenly I was hungry too.

"Mwali, we haven't eaten, or, seen your parents... I haven't gone home, and we've got school tomorrow..."

"You are right on all these things. But the solve is this: first we will eat. Then consider."

We untangled ourselves, put some underwear on and crept into the kitchen. Mwali put on a small light, enough to move around in the darkness. Our dinner was still there, with a new note on it, that simply read, "!!" and below that "???" Mwali smiled.

"My mother. She knows. So I will speak to her in the morning. From school, perhaps I can be excused." Ex-cuze-ed.

"Your mother knows?" I simply hadn't faced up to any parental consequences of tonight. This comment had made me worried and relieved at the same time.

"Oh yes, I tell her. I had to tell her after... an earlier moment. She is so loving and caring. And so prrractical."

I got a glimpse of Mwali herself as a mother, loving and caring and practical. And quoting Shakespeare.

But enough words! Now for some food!"

I wanted to hug her tightly.

Mwali took the wrapping off the dish and we went a bit silly. We giggled and shushed each other with every little sound, like a clink of a fork, or simply closing the microwave. When it dinged at the end of its run we literally jumped at the noise. If we thought we heard another sound we froze, peeking over our shoulders like naughty children.

The meal was couscous with a meat stew, a mix of flavours. I could recognise sweet potato, but that was about it. It was good and filling. Mwali put the plates in the sink and I came up behind her and hugged her. She leant back on me and I could feel her smile.

Back in her room, we held hands and looked at each other. My mind was reeling. I was exhausted, exhilarated, I felt full and good and sleepy and I was in front of the most wonderful person, who I couldn't stop looking at.

Mwali solved it again by leading me to the bed.

We cuddled. We lay and sensed each other, skin to skin, light finger touch, or firm thigh to thigh. Practical Mwali spoke first.

"We should sleep a little bit, then I think you should go home and prepare for school. My mother is very kind, but finding you in the house might be a little bit too much for her!"

Good thinking. With my head on her chest I felt sleep coming on me. "I'll do as you suggest, princess. Also I really want to impress your mother, and breakfast is rarely a good time to be impressive."

Mwali laughed. "Manny, dear my love, you are a different boy from the one whom I took into the bathroom at that party!

Your face, my thane, was as a book where men may read strange matters.

I shocked you then, didn't I!"

I opened my eyes. Mwali's round breast was in front of me as I rested on her shoulder. Her nipple barely stood out now. So different from when we were in the bathroom at that party. I smiled at the memory.

"Yeah. I s'pose I should've seen it coming, but I didn't. You were a bit worked up with all that 'web browsing'! Looking for, what d'you call them? Uboos?"

"Mboo."

"Whatever. Not gonna lie, I was shocked. You watch a whole bunch of pornstars, then you expect me to, what? Pull a firehose out of my pants!? To be honest, I was freaking out, with you standing over me! I'm surprised there was anything there to look at!"

Mwali laughed again. "Ah Manny, you are right and you are wrong! Yes, I was affected by all those videos and pictures, and I could think of no other thing. But I knew from the first, they were not real. The girls are pretending. The boys, I don't know what they are thinking, but not love, not care. The boobs are not real, the muscles are too big, so the penises must be enlarged." En-larrge-ed.

She gently fondled my balls and very soft penis. "This is real! I can touch it, smell it, feel it! I can feel you! In the bathroom, you were shocked, but you trusted me when you let me touch you. I must respect that. And I can know your feelings, too. I have seen you watching me all this time, it was admiring as much as desiring! It made me feel very special." She kissed me softly. Such beautiful big soft lips.

"And your beautiful kisses! That started me off to discover what Romeo and Juliet were doing on their one night of marriage." She kissed me again, with more desire this time.

"I can see the care, the love in you. I feel the same. And I feel the want for you, to sit with you, hear your drawling voice speak Shakespeare to me, to kiss me! Oh Manny, I have wanted you! So when you quoted Juliet to me before, I had to have you!" She rolled over to me and pressed her sticky pussy against my leg. She smiled at me mischievously.

"It was an extra pleasure for me to be your first, am I right?"

"As always. Yes, I admired you, and what's more, I've learnt something from you. All that poetry, some of it has sunk in and now I get what it's about. I won't call Shakespeare boring ever again, I promise!" I kissed her.

"That fire and gentleness in you, that awesome sexiness... you are definitely my first in heaps of ways. First proper poem (not the school rubbish), first deep kiss, first naked girl, first... and second..." I squeezed her and she responded.

"But I'm not your first, am I."

Mwali sighed. "What does it mean, first, not first? You are my first proper love, the first to feel my poetry as I do, the first to unlock me. The first to let me be myself a lover, to give and take, to care." I felt her stiffen slightly.

"But no, not my first. I wish it were." I could barely hear her whisper, even in the silence. That voice in my head came back, you need to treat her very carefully again, son.

"Mwali. You, here, as you are, I couldn't possibly want it any different. This is wonderful as we are, right now."

Mwali smiled through tears. "So beautiful for you to say." She gave a bitter chuckle. "And my first is the reason I have condoms in my drawer." She looked long at me. "I will tell you, if you wish to hear."

"I want you to tell me, if you want to."

She sighed again.

"It was a party. We were drinking, but much more than that we were dancing. It was OK, ordinary music and we were having fun. Then someone found some African music! Good and loud. The drumming! The township guitars! The back-and-forth singing! The boys sing, the girls sing back, we sway and we dance! Oh my Lord, so good.

"There is a beautiful boy there, newly from Africa, I think Sudan. He has the most beautiful eyes, the most beautiful teeth, and can he dance! Tall and graceful, with hands he could turn like this.

"He is keen for me, but not unpleasant. He dances up to me, then away. I dance up to him, then away. Then together, his hands on my hips behind me. The music is playing, we feel fantastic.

What happens? I don't know exactly. He has got me a drink and we go outside. It's a bit darker, a bit quieter. We cuddle, then start to kiss, but I pull back. I am rushing this and I know it, but I can't stop myself. My lust is too strong.

"There's a shed at the back of the garden and I pull him inside. It's dusty and smells of old machines. Part of my mind is saying, you must stop, look there is nothing here, now go back to your friends. Another part of my mind was saying, listen to the music! The drums! You can feel this! You want it, you want him, this is the moment! Here is a table...

"I pull his t-shirt up. He pulls my top up. I undo his pants. He takes mine off and lifts me onto the table (he is taller than me). He pulls my breast from my bra, one then the other. Every touch is making my skin tingle."

At this stage Mwali was staring into space, I think unaware of me except she was clutching my arm.

"I have no pants on. On the table, I can feel the dust and dirt under my buttocks. My hands are on his strong, black shoulders, feeling them flex as he spreads me wide open. I am staring into his eyes. I breathe like I have been running for miles. My mind is saying No! and Yes! at once.

"A little spit on his fingertips then on his uboo, his fingers on me... and he is inside. So suddenly I am filled, stretched, stinging with pain. I am gasping. But he is a madman now, holding me and thrusting, pulling and pushing, clutching and squeezing my skin. I am dizzy.

"Then he comes. "Ahhh!" he cries, head back. Then he smiles at me. And in my confusion and pain, there is a tenderness to him, to give him this pleasure is a gift. But then he sees me. I have water on my cheeks, I am biting my lip...

"The poor boy! Such dismay! I do honestly believe he did not mean to hurt me. He thought I was willing - I was, in part. We knew, we were consenting, he thought. Now, oh my Lord, it is a disaster. What has he done? What have we done?

"Next we smell, that sharp metal smell, coming from inside me. He puts a finger in, brings it to his nose... he says one word, "blood" and staggers in horror. My virgin blood. I test myself, it is so painful there. There is blood definitely, and another smell, a stickiness. Oh my Lord.

"This is too much. He pulls up his pants, grabs his shirt and disappears. This was a bad thing to do, but in such a confusion I could understand it. I decided to fix myself up then look for him. My mind was now very clear. I realised the stickiness leaking out of me was his semen and that now I could fall pregnant. I considered many possibilities, even there in the shed!

I found my clothes. I brushed myself down as best I could. I stood up straight and walked out. Alas I never found my boy. He left straight away, I was told. I never saw him again."

Mwali wiped her eyes on my shoulder.

"There was blood all the next day. I felt a funny ache inside, which seemed to match the funny waiting - would my period come, or was I to be a mother? As you know, I am not one, much to my relief!" Mwali physically relaxed at this point. "My dear mother, she knew something was wrong the moment I walked into my house. I cried and cried and told her all. She was the best a mother could be. And I bought some condoms! If there would be a next time, I would be ready!"

She kissed my shoulder. "Ready in one sense, but not in another. Dear my love, the effect you have on me! I feel so good with you, so excited, so willing to love and be loved. So wet!"

Mwali laughed again, lightly this time, and I felt like I was lifted by a wave of joy. After such a painful story I had a sense of how hard another relationship might be. I wanted to respect the privilege she had given me, as well as feel this happiness.

(Afterwards, I wondered if there was a link to Mwali's love of Shakespeare's sonnets, with all their feelings and seething emotions of love and betrayal, and even parenthood.)

But even with Mwali's intense story, I was slipping. I vaguely saw her setting an alarm on her phone as I stretched out and felt my weight sinking into the bed. My last thing was the scent of her hair on the pillow.