No Sins to Confess

IT WAS CLOSE to five. The supermarket was crowded, it was peak shopping time. He was mooching around looking for blank CDs as he waited for his wife.

He felt rather than sensed it. The oddly familiar feeling. He turned, not impulsively but soulfully like they do in the movies. And behold. She was a tall light skinned, good-looking woman. She was coming his way in great big bouncing strides and she looked rather flushed and confused. As he stared at her, he oddly thought she resembled his wife. Curious eyes, curious lips and sincere expressions on the eager face. And a great well curved, voluptuous body, pouring out of the light tight fitting business skirt suit.

She got close and he picked up the warm mucky odour. His stomach ached with desire. He turned away to give her room to pass.

Then he felt more than heard her speak. He looked around him with adroitness before it occurred to him that she was speaking to him. To him.

"Excuse me. Samahani"

The voice was deep and husky, almost breathless and heavily laced with passion. She seemed to hesitate as if awaiting feedback, only for a second. He felt her eyes on him, close and intense. Then she took a quick intake of breath, and spoke further. " I need to buy a jacket. For my son. Tafadhali. I can't find the clothes section?" All he could think was that she was breathtakingly beautiful. Then he looked into her eyes and felt the engulfing feeling of need wash through him with the intensity of an orgasm. He had looked into the eyes of the vilest women in Nairobi, searched into the souls of the evilest witches in Kampala, listened to the saddest love songs in Dar es Salaam. He knew a woman harnessing deeply-held carnal appetite when he saw one.

"I think it's on the fourth mezzanine.' He looked into those fathomless black eyes and knew that he was lost even as she drank him up and drained him like the desert sand drained under the storm waters.

"Will you take me there?" she said more than asked, " I can't find my way around Nakumatt. It's so big and it's so crowded" He was nervous, but tried not to show it. Funny he found this woman making him a bit unsure, charming him. For a woman as beautiful as she, it was the voice that had the most disturbing sensual aura. She smiled and shrugged, "Please, my husband is waiting."

Here goes the magic moment, he thought. He looked away in bid to conceal his uncertainty. Then he hit on a wicked idea. He nodded briefly in agreement and motioned for her come with him. "Where's your husband?" he asked as they battled their way through other shoppers.

"Outside in the parking. In the car with my son. It's my son's sixth birthday and I have to get him something." The supermarket was packed and he had to push his way heavily to create enough room for her. But she was in a hurry and literally pushed him as they battled their way to the stairs leading up to the mezzanine, leading him on with her hand prodding his back, pushing. They went up slowly as most shoppers were coming down. She kept bumping into him and he felt her physical presence, felt her soft body against him. Felt the warm outline of her breasts and thighs. He felt the excruciating pain of being engulfed, the agony of being torn through his body. He knew he had to find a way to communicate his growing need, and fast.

On the second mezzanine, there few shoppers and they moved faster. They reached the landing and he felt her breathing heavily. Again he slowed and again she ran into him. He had his hand behind him, and as her body came into contact with his, he pushed his hand into her crotch. She gasped, and said, "It's OK." He felt her hold his hand. She thought his intention was for him to hold her hand.

Holding her soft hand he led up hurriedly up the stairs, then stopped suddenly on the landing of the third mezzanine. She fell heavily against him and he felt her give a tortured gasp. He turned and faced her. They were close, so close her bust touched his chest. Her bolt black eyes were full of zest and anxiety. "What?" she mouthed. Her eyes stared unblinking, large and round, and questioning. He said nothing, instead he inched closer, and regarded her warmly.

At that moment, she felt odd, instantly. She glanced around, then looked into his eyes. He had deep probing eyes, moist and hungry, somewhat. Irresistibly arresting, When she spoke again, the repulsive arrogant undertone in her voice was gone. "Oh my God," she whispered. It was like saying, this can't be happening. "Let's get my son's jacket. ' He was still holding her hand, and he gave her a gentle squeeze. At the same time he thought he saw a smile on her face. She now avoided his eyes and made to go.

But he detained her, squeezed her hand again, gently this time. As he did this, she closed her eyes, hard and jerked suddenly as if she'd been hit with an electric jolt. At that moment he knew she was his. Without thinking, he reached out and touched her breast, touched and pressed. It gave her a spasm, made her look back into those demanding eyes. His hand now cupped her breast and pressed; she felt something touch her deep inside. Her head reeled and she felt a hammering in her chest and thinly remembered that it was her heartbeat. Her mind commanded her and she looked down at his trousers and saw the hard on. A strange feeling of need suddenly gripped her and she felt warmth rush to her loins. "Oh my God," she breathed, "what am I doing?"

This is crazy, she thought. She was married. And her husband will soon be up here in the store looking for her. But the galvanizing rupture of sexual need gripped her, blinded her. Something about this guy suddenly released an animal lust in her. The more she looked at him, the more handsome he got. His nose was broad and a scar on the chin gave him a curious gangster look. Like Koffi Olomide, her favourite star. His lips were large and his teeth not well kept. His hair was short and his neck was thick like a trunk. But these tiny flaws, she thought, only made him more attractive. With eyes eager and demanding, he reminded her of a sexy first year rugby player student she had dated in college during her fourth year. Well, screwed was the right word. It had been a stupid affair that she regretted due the fact that it had been fuck at first sight. She'd hated the experience more because of the way the rugby player kid overpowered her, floored her outright with dirty words. But more to it, the experience resulted in her losing her virginity. She had asked for it -- she had gone to his room with no panties on and sat carelessly. It was something her boyfriend couldn't accept. Her boyfriend had never wanted them to have sex. But the rugby player kid didn't know his luck on discovering she was a virgin, he'd simply laughed and said, "Bitch, you've never been fucked yet. I'm gonna turn you into a sex bitch, and I'm gonna enjoy doing it." And he'd rammed his thick dick hard into her, tearing her in one swift movement. She'd been thrilled, she'd been sexually ripped. A first-meet, first-fuck business. No finesse, no romance, no kiss, The boy had fucked her with no mercy, rocked her to great heights with incredible energy, abusing her, slapping her, calling her bitch, stupid horny bitch, whore. He'd fucked her using all possible positions, twisted her round and round and ravaged her arsehole as well. He made her suck him and came down her throat several times making her choke and puke. He'd literally ravaged her virgin body and punished her, made her cry and beg so much. He gave her screaming orgasms, commanding, come, bitch, come. For two weeks her ribs, pelvis region, vagina and arse ached and she couldn't walk properly. Afterwards the kid found reasons to avoid her, gave excuses until she gave up and moved on. Moved on because her boyfriend had called it quits. That was her first experience of sex and that was how she thought sex would be. Until she met other men.

But that raw plain sexually overpowering feeling, she never experienced it again and she always craved for it. The men she dated afterwards never impressed her sexually, never came close to blowing her mind, let alone making her come. She enticed the men, made them fall in love desperately and never wasted time getting into bed with them. After that she ended the affairs. Many of the men were deeply heartbroken and continued to pine after her. Finally after years of looking and trying different men she came to understand that sexually powerful men in Kenya were as rare as a women of genius. She settled for her husband among the many men whose hearts she had broken and who were still weighed down heavily down her line, and married him for his wealth, to ensure comfort for her future. She; however, never gave up ever experiencing the college rugby player kid's terrific sex again. She made it exist only in her fantasies and in her wildest dreams when she masturbated fiercely in private with the words bitch, stupid horny bitch, whore reverberating in her mind. This way she got the heart-rending orgasms that she as the only fulfillment of true sex. But the more she masturbated, the more unfulfilled she came. She continued to search.

As she stood here with this strange guy's hand gently caressing her breasts, the feeling flooded back. She felt feverishly aroused as she sensed an intensity about him, as if he were charged with too much energy and was looking for a place to expel it. And with those savage eyes vehemently probing her, the thought of his penis inside her vagina was real. She only prayed he was aggressive. Oh, and he was big. His nose told it all. She felt a warm sensation wash through her at the thought of it. This guy was magic. Her vaginal loosened itself and opened inside her panties. She felt juices pour out and run down the inside of her full thighs. Thunder thigh, as her husband was fond of calling them. No longer was she in a hurry to buy her son a jacket; she had a new need now. Both of them were oblivious of other shoppers staring at them. She smiled and reached a shaking hand to hold his arm. "Let's go some place."

He nodded, and started up the stairs. She looked up at him. "Inside here? Why?'

He came and pulled her into his arms. Kissing the top of her forehead, he said to her, "Because I want you to belong to me. Because you thrill me and I don't know why. Because my wife is also waiting outside in the restaurant. And this is my way of making you have fun."

Words like that she couldn't resist. Adultery or no adultery, giving her body to a total stranger notwithstanding, she had never craved any other thing in life than to feel overpowered completely and engulfed with need for sex. To surrender and give herself to somebody suddenly and experience the depraved feeling of being used and abused.

She almost came there and then, and felt so weak she was afraid she would fall. "Let's do it then," she said in a voice she hardly recognized as hers, "I need this now."

The clothes section on the fourth mezzanine was deserted save for a couple of attendants handful of shoppers. He conducted her around until they reached the end. An intersection showed a long narrow corridor with some with a ladies/gents sign. He quickly led her along it and pushed her into one of the toilets. She was on him before he could lock the door, opened his arms and nestled into his chest. He held her and crushed her against the door. She swooned and gave long moan. Their embrace became tighter and urgent until she was burying her face in his neck breathing deeply, almost gasping and weeping lightly, her body trembling convulsively.

When his lips finally met hers, it was more than she could want. She didn't kiss back, was too weak and charged to return his kiss. She just opened her mouth and let him feed on her full lips. She was no longer shy or nervous or guilty. Her husband was the only man she had kissed for the last ten years, and she had gotten used to the way he kissed, always one-sided with his head on her right shoulder. And now she was being kissed in a totally new way. She felt her vagina twitch as she felt his tongue enter her mouth. She heard herself moan loudly as her vagina clenched itself twice hard and rocked her. It was more than she could take, she pulled back, withdrew herself from the kiss. Her body was on fire, she felt herself on the edge. She shook and longed for a release. But even then, her hands clawed at his trouser front, rubbing blindly at his hard on, feeling its length, aware oddly of the wetness in her loins.

As she pushed his head away, he withdrew his tongue and whispered hotly in her ear, "Oh, you fucking overgrown bitch, tell me what you want."

And in that instant, at the mention of the word bitch, she came. Her vagina reacted sharply, and exploded. Spat juices in her panties, and down her thighs. Her body heaved and went limp, her mind billowed and her hair stood. Her toes curled and she clawed him maddeningly on the back. She felt a scream start down her throat, and tried to fight it. It reached her lips and she bit hard at his shoulder as she shook uncontrollably. She sniffed and grunted rapid throaty sounds that went hrrgh- hrrgh- hrrgh- hrrgh- hrrgh- as the waves washed through her. She felt her vaginal lips open and close intermittently with the rhythm of her ejaculation.

He held her like that until she calmed down. Then she pulled back, took a deep breath and looked at him. As she studied his face -- darted her eyes from his eyes to his nose to his lips in amazement. "I've never come like that before," she whispered, "Never."

He continued to hold her while his hands went under her blouse and unhooked her bra. He massaged her blouse as he kissed her; she pressed herself against his hardness with a passion she had never before felt. There were no rules here, no introduction, no romance, no conventions, no sins to confess, no husbands and wives to disapprove. She was suddenly unhindered; she was free to revel in herself, in her overpowering sexuality, in this stranger. This stranger who could infect her with HIV.

With these thoughts raging wildly in her head, he pushed her to bend and hold onto the toilet seat. He pushed her skirt over her waist, pulled her wet panties to one side as he kicked her feet to part her legs, and he entered her, so abruptly and with such a force that it took her breath away.

She felt glorious as she felt the huge penis, ravage her inside. It made her feel dirty and rotten, but she wanted it.

"Yargh," she grunted, "That's it. Yargh. Oh-oh. Tear me. Fuck me." She arched her back, opened her legs more and pushed buttocks out. She felt more of him slide into her and felt her heart rock and pain. And this guy knew how to fuck; hard and thrusting. He was fucking her so hard and deliciously, ramming into her steadfastly. And, God, how he felt huge and wonderful inside her. How he filled and stretched her. Oh God, this was so fucking delicious.

"Yeah, mzee." She was pushing herself back and rotating her buttocks hugely to match the delicious pumping of his thrusts, whining and whimpering, and giving little growls. "Aaahhh. Deeper. Harder. Aaaahhh!"

She felt herself racing to that delicious brink she only experienced whenever she masturbated. And she was coming, she wanted the best turn-on to feel it. Dirty words.

"Talk dirty," she growled, "Talk dirt to me, mzee! Call me bitch . . . call me bitch . . . CALL ME BITCH! NOW!"

He withdrew and said the word. "Bitch. Slut. Malaya. Cheap stupid bitch."

Then he rammed back in with a force that nearly took her breath away. "BITCH!" It hit her then. She clawed out behind her and cried out.

He pulled out, held her cheeks apart and watched her ejaculate. With her entire body convulsing, her large buttocks clenched sharply with the maddening spasm of her vagina. He watched her lips clench themselves and puke out whitish fluids. Then he was inside her again. He reached up under her belly and pried her great hips open, he almost lifted her as he breathed hotly over her as he rocked her. She clung hard at the toilet seat. She felt herself devour him. He rocked her, hitting her buttocks with the slurp- slurp- slurp sound of flesh hitting flesh. She always thought her vagina large, her husband normally complained about it when he had to take doggy style, which she loved. Her vagina got distended and hung downwards and as her husband's organ fucked her, she was wide and air got in and escaped making odd ugly sounds like she was farting. But not with this stranger, she felt her vaginal muscles gripping him very well inside her. She felt her body opening wide, wider until she wanted the moment never to end. He fucked her for what seemed a long time and she enjoyed every minute of it, prayed it would never end. She came twice braying like a demented donkey and shaking uncontrollably while he struggled to stay inside her and hold her as well. And each time she pushed herself hard against his pole to feel him tearing her, to enhance her shattering orgasm.

Then she felt him come. She felt it as his pumping changed, she felt it and felt him grow bigger. It excited her as she felt him fuck her hard and steadily, withdrawing almost completely and driving back. Then she felt him rear twice inside her. Then he was shooting inside her, deep in her womb. Her head billowed and she almost passed out. She wanted to come with him but her own orgasm was still far. She'd just had three nerve wracking orgasms herself. He had his hand over her mouth to stop her from screaming. She shook her head tried to concentrate on the sensation of feeling him shot inside her, and when she did, it was too much. She even felt the hotness of the sperms as they hit her insides. She had never experienced that before. Her mind clouded and blackened. It was later that she tasted blood in her mouth and was aware she had bit him. He held her and she fought him because she felt her own ejaculation lingering. Then she felt him withdrawing and she struggled to hold him inside her. But she felt him shrink and she started to cry. She immediately dropped to her knees on the floor and attempted to take him in her mouth. But he pulled her up and held her. She fell dreamily in his arms and wept a little, short whimpering sobs of longing and frustration. He kissed her face gently, kissed at the sweat on her forehead, and mucous masking her upper lip and nose. She sniffed veraciously, soundly pushed the mucous to the back of her throat and swallowed. She didn't wipe her nose, and he thought she looked plain gloriously sexy.

"Please," said in her big, husky mature woman's voice, "Fuck me again. Let's do it again. I was coming and then you stopped it. Fuck me again. Please." It sounded more like a command than a plea.

He smiled. "Wish I could." He pulled up his trousers and tied his belt as he said, "But my wife is waiting." He finished and turned to her. "And so is your husband and son."

She reached out to touch his arm, to pull him back, talk to him. "You haven't even fucked me in the arse yet."

For a moment he hesitated, looked at her in shock.

She took full advantage of his hesitation and quickly bent over, ripped off her soaked panties and pulled apart the cheeks of her great arse apart. The sight of her arsehole overwhelmed him. It was vulgar and extendible with a dark ring around it. Even as he stared, her arsehole opened itself out and widened, wet and waiting.

"Right here, man," she growled, a wicked snarl on her face. "I can't miss this. Fuck my arse."

"Have you done this before," he asked. He had an instant hard on and was unbuckling his trousers

"What?" she asked.

"Your arsehole."

In answer, she groaned as if with impatience. "You haven't fucked my arse, stranger. Fuck my arse, Oh-h."

She felt his strong hand grab her waist and pull her. Then she felt the tip of his organ touch her entrance of her anus; she closed her eyes, and concentrated on her need to feel the sweet sensation of the huge penis sliding inside her. In it went until she felt him tearing her flesh. Then suddenly she reared. She had to stop it, it was too much for her, she was in pain.