My African Adventure – Part 3 – Sunday – A History Lesson, a Tease, a View, Favorite Positions and a Promise of More to Come

The third day (Part 2 here) of my erotic African adventure. I could never have imagined the experiences I was being prepared for that would shortly unfold. Already I had breathtaking things happen on my first two days.

Friday I flew from a frigid Canadian winter to sunny Capetown and my friend Hanz. I met his girl T and got introduced to their erotic life. Then Saturday they helped me find a girlfriend-of-the-moment, Anna, who turned out to be the most enthusiastic sexual partner I had ever had.

That was just Friday and Saturday. What adventures would Sunday hold?

MY AFRICAN ADVENTURE – PART 3 – SUNDAY – A HISTORY LESSON, A TEASE, A VIEW, FAVORITE POSITIONS AND A PROMISE OF MORE TO COME

After a long long sleep I awoke to Anna standing over me, dressed in her biking outfit, sweaty and glowing. She’d been out for an early morning power ride on her racing bike. She kissed me awake and was about to hop into the shower. I asked if I could lick her sexy parts first. No, no, she wasn’t about to let me do that. She showered, I washed up and we went out to join Hanz and T for Sunday breakfast.

We started to plan what to do with the day when the girls called a time out and said first they were going to Anglican communion. Going to church on Sunday morning? I guess they were well brought up.

They disappeared and reappeared wearing very proper white lacy dresses, that must have been from the shopping they had done the afternoon before. Off they went, saying that they would put on a show for us when they got back. Hanz and I had no idea what that would be.

While they were gone, Hanz gave me a local history lesson with proper vocabulary; vocabulary you needed to know to avoid giving offence here in South Africa.

Here is some of how it went. The descendents of the earliest Dutch settlers, like Hanz, were called Afrikaners and spoke a medieval version of the Dutch language call Afrikaans. The descendents of British colonists, and any other white people, were uniformly just called English. Native populations, of which there were many many separate groups, were all referred to as Black (which in the South African way was pronounced “blek”). People from India have spread throughout the British empire and here they were referred to as Asians. We Canadians and you Americans would call them Indian, but here they were called Asian; go figure. Anybody of mixed race, and that was mostly Black & white, were called Coloured. This wasn’t vocabulary we’d use in North America by any means.

At this point I remarked that T, being so light, must be Coloured. But Hanz said no, she was purebred Xhosa through and through, and that was an erotic tale in itself (he said mysteriously). Hanz said T’s story was very complex and interesting, including how he had saved her life, something he would explain to me later. Not a tale for now. (But not long withheld; it was early the next morning, over pre-dawn coffee, that he told me the story he had to relate. The other story, of T’s family and how she came to be conceived, I would learn days later at the legendary Mount Nelson Hotel.)

Then he said if you think T is beautiful and over sexed, you should see her mother. T’s mother, he said, was extremely beautiful, perhaps among the most beautiful woman in all South Africa and quite randy. “She’s the Tallulah Bankhead of South Africa” he said. (You have to know about old American movie stars to know what he was talking about. Tallulah was a movie star beauty of the 1940s and by reputation ravenously sexual). I would later come to understand what he was talking about.

Then the girls came back from communion, claiming to be spiritually renewed. And they put on a show for us.

The twirled around in their going-to-church dresses, all white and lacy and very proper. What we saw turned out to be the outermost of three layers.

Unwrapping the outer layer they revealed what would be good for a fashionable cocktail party. Still white and lacy, but sexy and showing more flesh. Something of a come-hither look that would go well with what are called fuck-me heels. Unwrapping the middle layer, they revealed the inner layer, which would be good to go to a play party. Very sexy and showing lots of interesting flesh. Lace and skin, what a combination! They’d taken club wear to church, hidden under two more discreet layers. Oh boy.

Hanz said he never knew a posh store like Woolworths Cavendish sold outfits like that. The girls winked and said they knew where to get sexy clothes that we men had never heard of.

Before they went any further, the girls insisted we give them a dance. Hanz put on some music and we danced for a while. Since the girls were now wearing the innermost, club wear layer we had the treat of reaching in and fondling while we danced.

Then the girls unwrapped the inner layer, revealing to us all they had. At that point we all went out to the pool and played. Once T was relieved of having any clothes on, she resumed her habit of fingering herself and periodically licking her fingers. If she was standing next to any of the rest of us, she might hold out her finger to be licked or press her finger to a mouth. It was very much like the way a child would share her candy with friends.

After we’d had fun in the pool, the very athletic Anna wanted more exercise and Hanz and T suggested we hike around Table Mountain, which loomed above city, more or less in the backyard of Hanz’s neighborhood. The view they promised would be spectacular and the exercise should be strenuous enough to satisfy Anna.

We packed a lunch, changed to hiking gear and set off. When we came to a patch that could be used for a rock climb, Anna would scramble up; kind of showing off but burning off some of her excess athletic energy. Winding around the side of Table Mountain we got to the top and saw the West Cape Province laid out in front of us. It was a delightful and vigorous hike getting our way to the top. On the paths there would occasionally be a public toilet and almost every time we encountered one, T would duck in to relieve herself.

Looking out at the Cape spread below us, Hanz told me in Afrikaans it’s called Kaapstad, that is Cape City, naturally enough. T said in Xhosa it’s iKapa, which looks to me like it means The Cape. That wasn’t too tough; but I couldn’t say the click that begins some words in Xhosa.

Thanks to some travel exhaustion I was bushed so instead of hiking some more, we took the cable tramway back down and walked home.

I lay down for a nap, while Anna lay nuzzling next to me, reading a book. She made sure my sleepy hand was caressing one of her nipples.

Afterwards Anna and I got up and played at the pool with our hosts. I was concerned that my time with sexy Anna was coming to a close, but right then she asked if we’d like her to stay over with us for the week. It was a slow time at her job, she said, and she’d already gotten an OK from her boss to take a week’s vacation.

That made me ever so happy. I would get to have this marvelous erotic partner for the rest of my week’s time in South Africa.

Then we cooked and ate dinner.

Over dinner we had a funny debate about sex positions and technique.

We all agreed that the equestrian position, cowgirl as I think you call it in the States, was the best. T said they once went to a play party where from the moment they arrived the women had to be naked and wearing cowboy hats and of course cowgirl straddling was the theme position of the party. I just burst out laughing, it seemed so outrageous and so funny.

I said cowgirl was so much better than reverse cowgirl – you could watch each other’s expressions.

I asked if anyone liked anal and the girls both spontaneously gave Bronx cheers.

We talked about favorite positions. I’ve forgotten what Hanz and T said theirs were, but Anna told me hers was with the lady on her back with her legs pulled up and the man on his side at a right angle, slipping neatly into the woman.

I admitted I didn’t think I’d ever done that.

Mine, I reported, was with the man sitting with legs crossed, sort of a yoga position, and the woman sitting on his lap, legs straddling her mate. What is great about that position is that you’re so close, face to face, that kissing and being lost in each other’s eyes comes naturally. The only draw back is that the man needs to be at least a little longer than average, which worked fine for me.

Anna and I agreed that we’d do both positions tonight and we headed off to bed without further delay.

After treating each other to our favorite positions, we fell asleep.

In the middle of the night I woke up to find Anna gone for the moment; to use the toilet I thought. I went back to sleep and then woke up again to the sound of Anna tiptoeing back into our bedroom. As we kissed I caught the distinctive smell of T’s honey pot on Anna’s breath, so I knew what Anna had been up to while she was out of the room. I smiled and said that I hoped she had enjoyed the interlude. Anna mumbled that they both had and we fell back to sleep.

That ended the third day of adventure in South Africa and my second day enjoying the charms of sweet Anna, with now the promise of a full week more to come.

Little did I realize what I would learn early the next morning on Day 4 of My African Adventure.