Swing, Swing #5: Take What You Can Get

18 months. 18 long and pleasure-filled months I’d been with Claire and now it was over. 18 months of not having to worry about where I’ll get my next fix of flesh from. She took it upon herself to make sure that my balls were always empty and I’ll always love her for that. God bless that girl.

Problem was, my balls were full now and there was nobody to drain them for me. The shock to my system was intense, and I was hornier that your average teenager; much hornier. I didn’t realize it at the time but I spent a lot of time checking out ass. So much so that I could identify any of the girls in my class by her bottom half alone. Ass-recognition system, I called it.

I loved the eye-candy but I was recognizing a lot of ass that I couldn’t get. We had a lot of Asian girls in my school and I found their subtle curves and tight bums to be incredibly alluring but they were incredible selective; tended to only date within their race because daddy wouldn’t be too happy if he found out this his daughter was mudsharking so I was forced to chase down other targets, not that I had much luck with them either.

Game is the benchmark that defines a man's success. At the time, I was a natural. Women were just drawn to me and I knew off the bat that I was getting more tap than any of my peers but I lacked the knowledge to direct that power. Some guys asked me how I got such hot girls and I’d always tell them “If I knew how I did it, I’d do it every day,”

I think that what gave me an edge was my no-fap rule. I was in boarding school from Monday-Friday and I stuck to a strict policy of not fapping in school. Can’t explain why but it just felt really weird so I’d only let loose on the weekends when I got home. This gave me a competitive edge over my colleagues who were spilling it in the showers every morning. A full load makes you more sexually aggressive. Sometimes, it’s almost as if women can smell the testosterone on you.

But even my five-day no-fap regiment couldn’t get me laid. I was too shy, unable to hold frame and dominate the way I should. Blind to the thousands of indicators of interest thrown my way. Clueless as to how to make a proper approach. I mumbled when I spoke. Couldn’t hold eye contact to save my life. Socially awkward by every definition of the term and girls weren’t going for that. They wanted jock-boy-who-everybody-loves.

That left me with Ms. Rosey-Palm…and an old friend.

[‘That guy’] called again. He popped on my phone-screen as Do Not Answer and I almost obeyed my own instructions…almost. My thumb hovered over the cancel button for a second right before it dawned on me that this was my only option for some action. A horny man is not one in a position to bargain, so I picked up. [The dude] said hi and started droning on about something or other like we’d just seen each other the week before and would have kept going if I didn’t interrupt him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You got time this weekend?”

Once again he seemed shocked by my direct approach and we set a date.

I got down to his place and he seemed happy enough to see me even though I’d ignored him for the better part of a year. Maybe that forced-smiling thing actually works.

In his dark room in the middle of a slum we went through the same motions again on his itchy woollen blanket with the yellow and brown square patterns. I laid myself out once again and let him have his way with me. The difference this time was that it worked! Through some miracle of the human body, I got it in, and my God did it hurt. It hurt so much and felt so good at the same time. It was like taking the best shit of my life.

I moaned with pleasure then nearly spat on him when he pulled out. The man was done, in less than a minute.

My ass felt like a door had been left open down there. Something slimy crept out despite my best efforts to stop it. It felt like I had a leaky bowel. More dick would have been nice but the guy was clearly spent so I started to dress.

“Ala, where are you going so fast?” he said.

“Uh…” If he thought we were going to cuddle, he was mad. “I have to get back home.”

“Wait, I have something for you.”

He put on his pants and left the room. Left me there twiddling my thumbs and hoping he wasn’t about to bring in a mob to lynch the closeted homosexual. Such things happen a lot in Kenya. Especially in slummy areas like Kangemi. But no, instead he brought me a twink. A small guy, maybe about my age or younger. Dark skin all over and short hair. Kept his gaze fixed on the floor the whole time.

“Oh, I just wanted you two to meet. Dean, this is my neighbour Wawesh. Thought you two might like each other.”

Cheeky bugger. Was he trying to set us up? Or maybe he just wanted to watch us get it on. Before I could come to a decision our host started to help Wawesh with his shirt. Then his pants. Left him standing there, already hard dick poking out of a bush that looked like a coffee farm. He hadn’t said a word yet, just stood there, a little embarrassed by his starkness but clearly excited.

Ah, hell. I could spare a few more minutes. They guy had come all this way. […] guided Wawesh to the bed and laid him down. I squatted over his rather small dick and let him find his way in. I was still wet from earlier and jizz makes for incredibly good lube. Most times when I masturbate I’d wish that I could ejaculate before the orgasm so that I can use my own cum as lube but obviously by the time the good-sauce came out I was already satisfied.

Over my shoulder I saw our host with a camera in his hands, taking pictures. I arched my back and squeezed just enough to give him a good shot. Wawesh responded by throbbing hard and suddenly I felt even wetter than before. He was done.

Our host hid the phone when I turned around and I pretended not to notice. What’s a few snapshots? He might as well have something to remember me by because he would never see me again. That was my style with Johns. Remained that way indefinitely. Never went on to fuck the same guy more than twice.

My ass squelched all the way home, like I was leaving cum-trail in my wake. I bet that matatu seat still has a white stain on it today.