Okay. This is not a quick straight to the sex piece so if that is what your are looking for, please either move on or scroll down. ;-)
I wrote it as more of a story that happens to have sex in it too. I hope you enjoy.
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Her young African breasts called to me. I mean so strongly that it felt like a literal calling. Whenever she walked by I saw them move and wanted, more than anything, to squeeze them and put them into my mouth. After a week of this, my mind was, frankly, foggy. And then it dawned on me; this is exactly what my wife and I were talking about when we reached our someone unusual marriage agreement.
Before we got married, some 10 years ago now, we had a talk. What is fidelity? To us? In our marriage?
We know what it means to the Pope. And we know what it means to most people; but did it mean that for us? We were both clear that we didn't want to have an outright 'open' relationship where we were off fucking others on a regular basis but we wanted to balance that with a mutual desire not to hold each other back.
Frankly, it started with me. About a year before our engagement I realized that I didn't want to get married if marriage was about restriction. In other words, I really liked the idea of committing to spending the rest of my life with my soul mate but I was not so excited by the idea that that commitment also gave my wife-to-be a monopoly on physical affection and sex in my life. I had been married once before and my wife abused that monopoly position frequently.
And so, after watching Friends one night (the one with 'Reserved Lists) my new wife-to-be and I had a talk that started off with me saying, "Honey, I couldn't blame you if you had a chance to shag George Clooney. I could forgive that."
She then explained that I could, should the opportunity arrive, have sex with Charlize Theron. As our respective lists grew, I asked her an important question:
"What about a non-celebrity?"
She was a bit surprised and then asked me if I was wanting an open relationship. "Not exactly," I told her. "But what if I was away on business and a very hot woman approached me looking for sex; should I say no?"
She sat back and thought about it before answering. "I guess I thought you wouldn't be tempted."
"Are you saying you could never be tempted?" I asked. She shook her head, acknowledging the truth.
This conversation led to a new understanding: We could stray occasionally, provided that it was not a regular thing with any one person, that it would be discreet and that the sex was safe.
And until I arrived in Kenya, no such opportunity had made itself known to me.
And now, as I sat around the fire in an amazing nature park, I contemplated Kiela, one of the staff working at the lodge. First of all, she is black. Really black. I had never been with a black woman before. Secondly, she was young. Half my age young. Still legal, of course, but young. And third, I realized the impracticality of the deal I had struck with my wife: How do I approach this gorgeous vision of womanhood and explain that despite my wedding ring, and my being (probably to her) and old man, that we should have sex.
And so I smiled to myself and settled for just watching her move; serving drinks, putting another log on the fire, laughing at our silly jokes and generally being amazing. Her skin was as smooth and smooth gets. Her hair was close-cut to her scalp in a way that a white woman just can't get away with. Her teeth with so perfect, white and straight. And her body was, well, to die for. She had long toned legs; probably from all the walking in the wilderness. Her bum was, well, perfect. Her belly was flat and she had the most delightful and perky b-cup breasts I had ever seen. Or at least, seen through clothing.
Three hours later; long after dinner and shortly after the rest of the guests had disappeared to their tents, Kiela and I started talking. First about the lions and elephants we had seen in the day and then, gradually, to more serious topics like marriage. In her tribe, she explained, it was quite common for a man to have more than one wife. Not in our world, I explained. In fact, I told her, it was against the law.
She was shocked,
"What right does the government have to tell you how many people to love?" she asked. I titled my head to one side; curious why she was able to see that so clearly.
She asked about my wife; what did she look like? What was her personality? I told her. And then she asked me, "And you have had sex with your wife?"
I was, understandably, surprised at the question. Both because of the strangeness of such a question and, more so, because of the intimacy.
"Yes, of course we do." I told her, "Often."
"And does she like it?"
"Yes, she does."
"My mother does not." She said, sadly. "She told me that sex is painful and something that a wife is forced to do from time to time and is really only meant for making babies but men abuse the privilege quite often."
"Do you enjoy it?" I asked. And she blushed; which is quite a feat when you consider how dark her skin is.
"I don't know." she said. "I have never....." she broke off, looked away and down.
I was at a loss for words and ended up saying the only thing I could thing of, "Well, when you do, it can be nice. Very nice. It might be painful the first time but with the right partner, it can be a very nice experience."
She didn't answer. For a long time. The fire started to die down and the soft firelight reflected off her dark skin. She was so beautiful it was hard to breathe. And then she spoke, and breathing went from hard to, well, impossible for a time, "Would you show me?"
My inability to breathe made talking just as impossible and, after a few long seconds, she became uncomfortable and I thought she might leave, embarrassed.
"Kiela," I started, still unsure where I was going with my sentence. "I would love to. It would be my honor."
Her face lit up and she looked right into my eyes, "Really?"
"Yes. Really. But you need to know some things and I need to know some things."
