A little later I lay between her legs and as she looked up at me I slowly slid deep inside her and started to move, slowly at first and then faster and faster. At first she lay with her knees bent but soon I felt her legs tight around me.
And she started to talk.
“Oh this is good, so good.”
“Please fuck me.”
“Please fuck my pussy.”
“Harder.”
“Harder.”
“Don’t stop.”
“Don’t you dare fucking stop.”
And then.
“I’m going to come! I’m going to come! I’m coming! I’m coming!”
Ohhhhhhhh!
As she came I felt her legs tighten around me and her vagina clamp around my penis. Even in my passion I did not want to come inside her and as she uncrossed her legs I withdrew, rolled off her, and lay beside her and watched her beautiful face as she slowly recovered.
She gazed back at me and smiled.
“I’m safe. Your turn. I want you to come in my pussy.”
She knelt on all fours on the bed, and I knelt behind her and was able to admire her petite and perfectly rounded bum. As she looked backward over her shoulder I slid inside her.
Her vagina gripped me tight and as I moved in and out I was able to see her vaginal lips pursing to and fro over my shaft. That sight is my biggest turn on, and I could not remember when my penis had felt so hard. I pounded her mercilessly as she entreated me to go harder and faster until I could take no more. Then as I groaned and my penis started to pulse prior to my impending orgasm, Sambala reached between her legs, and we came together.
I held her sweaty body tight as our breathing settled and our heart rates returned to normal.
“I thought you’d be good, and I wasn’t disappointed,” she said.
Just as I was going to ask her whether and when I could see her again the inevitable happened and my bleeper went off. The gentleman who had arrested earlier had done it again and with no time to spare I pulled my clothes and shoes back on, kissed Sambala briefly on the lips, and ran.
When I returned to my room an hour later Sambala had gone but the bed was made. I was heartened by the fact that we had successfully brought the patient back for the second time that night (he survived and went home a week later) but I was more heartened by an unsigned note placed on my pillow.
Thank you XXXXXX
The fates conspired against me following that and I did not get any sleep until about five in the morning but was able to sleep until ten when the house officer bleeped me. Sunday was busy and I had little time to process the events of the previous night. I finally got to bed at midnight and, miracle of miracles, slept until eight o’clock in the morning with no interruptions.
4
I did not see Sambala again until her next nursing shift which was that Monday morning. Following the ward round I caught her alone whilst she was preparing the medication trolley.
“Morning Sambala.”
“Good morning Doctor.”
“Good weekend?”
She smiled. “Best for some time. But we can’t talk now, Ring me after my shift finishes. I’ll be home by half four this afternoon. Write down my number. It’s local. 62418. Talk to you then.”
She turned back to the trolley and wheeled it out of the door.
That afternoon was busy but by just after five o’clock I was finished. I rang the number I had been given and Sambala answered on the second ring. I heard her mellow voice and my stomach lurched. I knew at that moment that what I planned next might finish my marriage. Emma might forgive a one night stand but not an affair. But I was already hooked and longed for a repeat performance with Sambala.
“When can I see you again?”
“Whenever you can find the time. But we need to be very careful about it. I’m not sure I want to come to your room when you are “on call” again. Nobody saw me Saturday and your bleep didn’t go off whilst we were busy but I’d rather there wasn’t the risk of being interrupted next time. Can you come to my house this Saturday afternoon? Two o’clock. Park your car on York Street and walk to my house. It’s about a five minute walk. Then she gave me the address.
One last thing. Don’t talk to me in the hospital. You never did before except for work related things so let’s keep it like that. People talk. I don’t want them talking about me. I’m sure the feeling is mutual”
After I put the phone down I collected my things and drove home. The drive gave me time to collect my thoughts and I realised I was both excited and nervous. Sambala’s last remark about not getting caught had made me aware of what I was planning. She had little to lose except, perhaps, her reputation but I could lose much more. Having said that, my marriage was slowly sliding down the tube and I hadn’t had really good sex with Emma for some time. The sex with Sambala had been very good and I knew it could only get better and I wanted more. I was bored and I was drawn to Sambala like a moth to a flame. I had forgotten what can happen to the moth when it gets too close to the light.
I had also forgotten the enjoyment and excitement which come with a new girlfriend. The gradual discovery of her likes and dislikes, her history, her personality, what she looks likes naked, her sexual preferences in the sack, and how she looks and sounds when she orgasms.
I had just been reminded of all these things.
By the time I pulled into my driveway I knew that I would make an excuse to Emma and visit Sambala the following Saturday afternoon. I also had a hard on and had to sit in the car and let it subside before I entered the house. I didn’t think Emma would notice. She had appeared even more distracted than usual and had had no interest in sex for the last month.
Emma met me at the door.
“Hello Daniel. How was your weekend. Not too tiring I hope. Have your shower and we’ll eat. I’ve put Julie to bed and have to go to a teachers meeting. I may go for a drink afterwards. If you’re tired go to bed. I’ll try not to wake you when I come in.”
An hour later she was gone and a short while after that I went to bed and when I dreamed I dreamed of Sambala.
On Tuesday evening I was in the process of inventing an excuse for Saturday afternoon when It became unnecessary.
Emma suddenly shouted through to me as I was sitting watching television and she was pottering in the kitchen.
“Daniel. I have got to go to my parents Saturday morning, and I won’t be back until Sunday evening. They’re away in Wales at short notice and somebody has to look after the dogs. I’ll take Julie. I hope you don’t mind. I shouldn’t make much difference to you. You can revise for that bloody exam of yours.”
At first I was pleased that I wouldn’t have to lie to her, and I was even more pleased at the prospect of more time with Sambala. Then momentarily the guilt returned, until the lust chased it away.
5
Sambala’s house was a mid-terrace in a quiet backstreet. I rang the bell and waited, and after a few seconds she opened the door and let me in. She was wearing a long red patterned dress which I later learnt was called an abaya. As the door closed behind us she reached up and passionately started to kiss me and then she led me into the lounge. The whole of the house appeared to have been refurbished. The carpet was light brown, the furniture white with colourful throws, and on the walls a variety of authentic looking African tribal masks were hung. A few tribal artefacts, baskets, and pottery were dotted around the room. On the floor were two circular black and red patterned leather mats. In one corner of the room there was a top of the range stereo system and against the wall an expensive colour television