With Her Tutor at Naro Moru

The driver met them at the junction with the man road to Nanyuki, the town commonly known as 'mwisho wa reli' meaning the railway terminus. He showed her the famous peaks of the mountain covered in sparkling snow to her, explaining the highest was called Lenana, then the next highest Mbatian. She looked up in wonder, when he explained that the sight was a rare one. Most of the time it was covered in thick clouds. She also learnt that the country took its name from this, its highest mountain, and Africa's second highest.

"Wow, its so wonderful to be here!"

Morita was the general manager of operations at the Japanese International Cooperation Agency, where she had worked for just over eighteen months, since being transferred from the Tanzania office. Due to that fact she could speak very fluent Kiswahili.

Mitch was the Training and Customer Support Manager at Comprite Applecentre. He was responsible for all customer relations, dealing with clients at all levels. Morita had called one morning in her first month on the job and was put through to him. She had found his voice so reassuring and her problem was solved so efficiently that she formed the habit of calling him even on minor issues. Overlaying this professional contact, there developed a liking for each other, unacknowledged by either of them for almost a year. Yet he felt an elation whenever the receptionist put a call through and told him it was Morita. If he had been out when she called, the 'While you were away' slip would be among those waiting for him when he got back. Invariably he called Morita first.

She formed the habit of receiving his call with a few words of Kiswahili. He always found it amusing that a woman from the other side of the globe could speak such good Kiswahili.

"My computer has gone stale," she would say to him in that language, while he understood that she meant her computer had frozen up. He would then tell her what to try out. If all that failed then he would send a software technician to 'sort her out'. There was hardly any reason for him to call her as debt collection was a function of the accounts department.

But one afternoon he did call. "Morita, I am inviting you to Grand Regency Hotel on the 13th of next month," he said after greetings were done.

She laughed into the phone for a few moments. "I had been wondering when you were going to invite me for lunch!" She chuckled down the line.

If he had any doubts about the possibility of dating her, they had come tumbling down, he thought. Instead he said, "The event starts at 14:30, so you had better come well fed."

"What event?"

"We are showing the new range of computers from Apple released at the WWDC earlier this month."

"Oh, I love new toys!"

"Great! I will send the invites later in the week," he said. "And by the way, that lunch you have just mentioned does not have to wait until next month you know!"

"Don't give me too short a notice, mark you!" So a date was a definite thing now. His heart beat wildly at that prospect.

From that point their relationship changed more and more to become personal, yet retaining its professional quality. Whenever she came to the office to collect something she made sure he knew before her arrival. Soon comments began to be made about his friendship with Morita.

She was a short woman, with a lean frame which made her seem very light on her feet, and gave her an athletic air. He often wondered if she was also agile in bed. 'One day,' he promised himself.

In the event he did not keep her waiting for too long. He called her with a date two days later. She replied that she was busy on the proposed day with a series of meetings, but the Friday of that week would work for her. His diary for that day had a callout to another customer in Karen. He called to reschedule that for later in the afternoon, and with feeble protests that customer agreed. The way was now wide open for their lunch date.

He took her to Beneva Restaurant where they did traditional local dishes. He wanted her to sample whole tilapia deep fried, with fried onions on the side, accompanied by ugali. Morita, in all her time both in Tanzania and in Kenya had never had it like that.

"I have had ugali with green vegetables, or with meat. But this fish is delicious!"

"Like me," he flung at her daringly.

"Says who?" She was looking at him with lowered head, but eyes boring into his.

"The proof of the pudding is in the eating," he replied. Morita screwed her face at the unfamiliar proverb, but then its meaning sank.

She punched him on the shoulder. "You must think very highly of yourself, you African!"

"If so, you are soon to learn if I exaggerate."

"How confident you are!" She glared at him right in the eyes. "Listen here, I am right now inviting you for drinks at Westlands Alpine Bar next week Friday after work. No staying late at a customer site to dodge me!"

He penned it into his diary on the spot as an evaluation site visit to JICA. In his mind he could see that the work he needed to do there could be done before it was time to close the office at 14:30 as usual for Fridays at JICA. They would thus have a full two and a half hours to themselves before the usual office crowds hit the pubs. The week dragged so slowly in his mind.

Mercifully, he had a week-long course that started on the Wednesday, running in the mornings. When he had done the Friday session, it was time to go to JICA. The documents he needed for the afternoon easily went into the small satchel. He timed himself to arrive soon after 1pm. Morita showed him all the staff members who had been to training the previous month, including herself. He was going to see her last. He put all six forms in his satchel and asked her to store it for him until Monday. He would find a way to have it collected that morning.

"I am sure a driver will be doing an errand in that part of town. I could send him with it."

"Superb. Thank you."

They drove out, Morita leading the way. Only a few cars were in the parking as they arrived. Choosing a cosy place to sit they made their orders. She was the first to lay her hand on his thigh, catching him by surprise. He lay his own over hers and fondled her wrist and fingers, lingering at the parting between her knuckles. "Your fingers are shaped like thighs." The implication of his lingering quickly became obvious; she parted her fingers as if in invitation. His eyes clouded over with pure animal lust, while she felt her breath catch.

By the time they had had three beers each, they could not wait to get at each other. In fact they left the club a little after five, heading to her flat.

She led the way upstairs to her third floor apartment. Once they were inside the door all hell broke loose. He grabbed her and kissed her hard while massaging her upper arms. She had her arms around his torso, and was panting loudly. The very light overgarment she had over her black sleeveless dress came off and was dropped onto the carpet. Next his fingers were fumbling with the zipper at the back. He drew it all the way down to her waist, without breaking his rhythm of kissing her. Then he pulled the arms through the sleeves and it fall to her feet. Now she was only in her bra and panties. He took a moment to run his hands all over her exposed skin.

He unclasped the bra to expose her smallish B-cup breasts. He cupped each in his palms applying a light pressure; he marveled at how firm they were still. Then he pinched the nipples one after the other, causing her to squirm, rubbing her thighs together. By this time she had found his zipper sightlessly and let out his cock. She gripped it firmly.

"This is so beautifully shaped, as if it has a sharpened end to penetrate me." At those words it seemed to jump. They stepped over their clothes and lay down on the pale green carpet with light brown and cream flower patterns. The last garment to go was her panty. He sucked her tits, giving her delirious pleasure, causing her pussy to become so wet and eager to be speared by that cock she kept squeezing lightly. He was of a mind to suck her pussy to one or two orgasms, but they could not wait.

"Come, give me that cock now! Fuck me silly with it." These words drove him wild. In one smooth motion he moved over her body and aligned his cock to her wet lips. He pushed gently, opening her inch by delicious inch. The soft sucking noises the two organs made were enough to drive them mad. The air was thick with the aroma of sex, her juices pouring copiously from between her lips.

He sank all the way in. Her legs were high in the air waving like so many hands at a disco. He stopped at the bottom to let her get used to his instrument of sweet torture.

"Fuck me now! Give me everything you have got." And that is exactly what he gave her, stroke after insistent stroke. Several times she was on the brink of coming but held back. She always felt powerless after an orgasm so she wanted to prolong the pleasure.

But when she heard him yell, whether to demons or deities she had no idea, she knew the moment had come. She let herself hit the ceiling of ecstasy. She screamed in her native tongue so that he heard but did not understand. In any case, he was in the grip of one of the most powerful climaxes in his life.

They were panting heavily from this sprint. Gradually they came back to earth.

"No, you did not exaggerate! Wow, that was something," she said.

"There's more where that came from," he assured her.

"Please allow me to unwind for a while." Her voice was drowsy. He held her to his chest, stroking her back with gentle fingers. He visited her buttocks, squeezing each cheek. Then he lay a long finger along the crack. She moaned sleepily. In a few seconds he heard her quiet snores.