The Confessions of a Playa! - Chapter 3

in life •  8 years ago  (edited)

Chapter 3
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Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body – 1 Corinthians 6:18

Unlike women, the male species doesn’t necessarily enjoy surprises. Especially if the surprise involves a woman. I say a woman because I know the code me and the security guard used. Nomdumiso looked at me with a ‘nigger shag me now’ look and I knew I had to do her. I hate leaving a chick horny. I don’t want to be known as the stingy guy when I die. I want chicks to look at my grave and get wet on the spot. The guard repeated what he told me in some fake Tsonga “roboto e fhalerile buti Rhulani. Mingayi kwalano (the robot has closed. Don’t go in there). He basically meant there’s someone in the house. Most security guards in South Africa are from Zimbabwe, Mozambique or KZN. Those from Zimbabwe normally learn isiZulu first whereas those from Mozambique do Tsonga because they have their own Shangaan in their country. The good thing was Ndumi was Zulu, so she didn’t understand his Tsonga. That’s a good thing about Zulu girls, they hate the Tsonga language with passion. They make effort to learn Tswana and Pedi but not Tsonga and Tshivenda. Xhosa girls are the ish, if the guy has money they can learn his language in 2 days. They learn the phrase ‘buy me…..’ in all 11 official languages plus tsotsitaal and sign language. I could see Nondumiso aka Ndumi was confused so I told her the security guard said the complex manager was waiting for me at the door because neighbors complained about my noise levels. She was like “ag, these people don’t have timing”.

I reversed my car and drove towards the SuperSport Park, the cricket stadium in Centurion. I honestly didn’t know where I was going. The thought of going to book in dawned in my mind but there was no way I was gonna book for 1 round of sex. When a black man books a hotel to have sex, he makes sure he gets a value for his money. Just image booking in only to pass out after a 2 minutes round? My ancestors somewhere in Malamulele would punish me badly. As I turned left at South Street, I saw an open space on the left side, between the gymnasium and some wedding venue. Well, you can take a guy out of Malamulele but you will never take Malamulele out of a guy. My uncle tatana Baloyi used to tell me that ‘under trees’ are the best ‘bedrooms’ in Malamulele. He claims 60% of babies are conceived under trees that side of the world. If you wonder where our dark complexion comes from, now you know. It was almost dark so my plan would work perfectly. She asked what I was doing and I told her I had the most perfect plan in my mind. She smiled and I knew I hit jackpot. I love these Zulu girls from the rural KZN. They don’t ask unnecessary questions or make stupid demands. When you say ‘haaak’ they know what do. Tswana girls must learn a thing or two from them. She’ll be going “I don't want a boyfriend who drives a cheap car” but no one in her family owns a car. The only car they had was a 1970 Toyota Cressida that was donated by her grandfather’s boss when the old man retired. I parked the car few meters away from the main road. It had mega-tinted windows, I was positive no one would see us. I pushed my seat backwards to open the space for her. I pulled off her legging and directed her to sit on top of me. Golf GTIs are not convenient platforms for 18+ stuff. Luckily she was a bit short. I was like “eish, I don’t have condoms. We have to sto….”. Before I could finish that she unearthed my already hard mrengerenge and directed it to her sacred paradise. I wanted to take it out but it was an impossible mission. She systematically went up and down on top of me. Many guys I engage with say Venda chicks have tight nananas. From personal experience, I’m still to chow a Zulu girl with a huge nanana. No wonder some of them pass virginity testing even when they are no longer virgins ;-)

My phone rang while she was busy yoyo’ing on top of me. I ignored the call but the caller called again. With Ndumi still busy with me I reached for my phone with the aim of switching it off. Instead of sliding the red I accidentally slid the green one to the right and also activated the loud speaker. I think Ndumi was coming or she did it deliberately. She was going “oh, oh, oh I love you babe…..go harder go harder… Ah oh ah oh you good Tsonga boy you're good”. Shit my phone fell to a space between the seat and pedals and I couldn’t reach it. It was still on loud speaker. Lerato’s voice on the phone went “Rhulani, Rhulani hello hello… What the F*$k are you doing? Are you shagging another beesh? Rhulani, Rhulani Rhura….Rhulani!!!!”. I tried to push Ndumi off me but she wouldn't have any of it. It was like Lerato’s voice Red Bull’d her. She grabbed me so tight like she was a hungry python. I wanted to moan and roar but I couldn’t because Lerato’s call was still active. Ndumi’s phone rang and she quickly stopped the riding and answered her phone. Trying to catch her breath she went “hello babe, I’ll be there in few minutes. …. ….. I’ll call you when I’m at the gate. Love you”. WTF, I opened the door and squeezed myself out of the car. I immediately goggled my phone with my hands and luckily the call was dropped. Ndumi jumped to the passenger seat and went “can we leave?”. She acted all normal but I could sense some pyscho in her. I checked my phone I had 55 sms’s, all of them of one person, Lerato. She was indeed angry at me. I asked Ndumi who she was talking to on the phone and she went “the same person who called you while we were having sex”. With that she went quiet and sat like a naughty kid after finishing the whole jar of peanut butter.

I started the engine and she directed me where to go using her fingers. I guess she didn’t wanna talk to me. I was probably taking her to her boyfriend to get laid. I didn’t even come nxa. And they say all men are dogs. BS!, I say all women are….. Pity my mom is a woman. I’d say something nasty. We turned right at Lenchen Street, left at Von Willich Avenue then immediate right. I dropped her few meters from the gate of the complex she was going to. She didn’t even say bye. She just slammed the door and left. Is this what girls call ‘I feel guilty’. Guilty my foot!!!! It’s not like I forced myself on her. She delivered herself on the platter, case closed. Shame the poor guy was going to eat leftovers. I took out my phone and called Lerato. She picked up immediately and went “I don’t wanna talk to you. What do you want from me?”. Like really, girls can be dramatic sometimes. Why did she pick up in the first place if she didn’t wanna talk to me. I told her to stop being dramatic and tell me where she was. She went “I’m walking to the taxi rank. I said I don’t wanna talk to you”. Ha ha ha ha ha... she told me where she was and pretended not to wanna talk to me. I drove there via Lenchen Street and found her walking. I stopped the car and she jumped in. She was like “don’t talk to me please. Just drop me at the taxi rank”. I shut up and drove her to the rank. When we got to the taxi rank she started shouting at me. I lost my cool and told her “listen here you little girl. I don’t remember giving your family some cattle for lobola, not even a goat or chicken. Stop being dramatic man ahh F*&k off”. She looked at me like she wanted to cry and the next thing there was blood coming from my nose. She hit me so hard my nose almost fell off. Before I could react she got out of the car and ran for her life. I wanted to run after her but every black man knows that you don’t touch a woman at a taxi rank. Taxi drivers will eat you alive. I drove straight to my place with my nose bleeding. The security guard who was on duty earlier had knocked off. The one on duty was some fat forever quiet guy. I didn’t even greet him. I kinda expected to find a ‘visitor’ at my place but there was no one. I took a shower and went to sleep. I woke up early in the morning and prepared for work. I’m normally very productive in the morning. I worked until 12h30pm without taking a break. I received an email from my colleague Mercy, some girl who worked at the call center. She said she urgently wanted to talk to me. Let’s be honest, at any company girls who work at the call center are the most beautiful (come on you know I'm telling the truth right there). Most of them are yellow bones (light skins) who dropped out of college because they were busy selling their beauty to the biggest bidder. Top positions are held by average to ugly girls (come on you know that’s true). No guy gave them attention at varsity, so they had enough time to study. I emailed back and told her we should meet at the smoking area. She told me she preferred a private space, like in my car. I agreed and immediately walked to my car. Mercy knew where I normally parked my car and I found her there waiting for me. She asked what happened to my nose and I told her I had a mini accident. We got in the car and she went “I don’t have enough time neh….”. Understandably so, call center girls take 30 minutes lunch.

She continued “I’m pregnant and also did HIV tests….”

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