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At last after the long trek from the coast, the caravan reached the wooded highlands. The desert just after leaving the coast had been very trying. They had lost two porters to the combination of heat and parching thirst. Even after that they had to battle with the plains, not much better in terms of the scarcity of water than the desert. Although they were shielded from the brutal sunshine, they now had to contend with steep paths, overhanging branches and the ever-present threat of attack by wild animals or irate tribesmen. They had just left the town of Ngongo Bagas behind, on a northerly bearing into the woods and Kikuyu country. This tribe was reputed to be very welcoming to visitors. One of their forms of welcome was offering women to visiting men for a few nights. Lord Lugard pushed his caravan all the harder in order to reach the domains of Chief Waiyaki wa Hinga, where he hoped to spend a week or so before heading northwest to Uganda where his main mission was.
As the caravan was negotiating their way down a steep path, they were constantly slipping, making it a battle not to tumble to the ground. Lugard ordered that the space between the porters should be at least three paces in case of an accident; the one who had fallen would not cause the ones in front to do the same, possibly destroying the precious items in their burdens. But it was here that they came under attack by tribesmen. Spears whistled through the foliage and struck down a guide and a porter. Barely a few minutes later the thieves, for that is only what they could be, were escaping through the thickness of the forest with some of the ‘trade goods’ that Lugard needed to bribe tribal chiefs (the so-called hongo) through whose kingdoms they would pass.
Thus Lugard knew he would need to be much more persuasive with the tribes he encountered in the west of Kikuyu country. It was in this pensive mood that they came to the top of a steep rise, all of them short of breath from the effort. A band of warriors suddenly appeared in front of them demanding to be told who they were. Lugard, in his most authoritative tone said he was a visitor of Chief Waiyaki. He hoped that his tone carried through the interpreter. They were told to follow the leader of the band, whose members surrounded the small caravan, until they came a piece of flat land in a clearing where they were told to wait. Lugard called the leader of the porters, the interpreter and his own second in command to the shade of a tree a little distance from the main party. He made it plain that now that they had fewer ‘trade goods’ negotiations with Waiyaki and any others they encountered after that would be very delicate.
After a short interval, a messenger was sent to tell them to approach the chief’s compound. From the clearing Lugard could see a large hut surrounded by a number of smaller ones; he surmised that that was the chief’s palace. Indeed as he was led down the slope and up the other side he felt certain that they were headed in that direction. He was led through the gap in the fence surrounding the compound, which was cleanly swept. He saw a heavy-set man in flowing dress sitting on a high stool surrounded by a party of others sitting on the ground. He could tell, even though he was not familiar with the mode of dress, that there was one woman or at most two, who were seated directly behind the chief.
Lugard stopped ten paces from the chief, who was shielded from the harsh sun by a grass thatch held up by slender poles.
“Greetings stranger!” hailed Waiyaki.
“Greetings, O chief!”
“What news do you bring from those far-off lands?” The interpreter had told Lugard that a man like Waiyaki had likely never been more than an hour’s walk from his compound ever since he had become chief. As a young man, like the warriors who had met his party, or the thieves who had attacked them, he may have gone into Masai country on a cattle raid, or Trabzon Escort made forays into a neighbouring clan’s territory but a grown man does not as a rule venture far from his home. He had been briefed that this form of greeting was the cue for them to bring out the gifts they had brought for Waiyaki.
Lugard snapped his fingers for the head of porters to bring out rolls of cloth, beads and wire to string the beads into necklaces making a small heap between himself and the chief’s party. An experienced porter also knew that he did not bring everything at once, since the Chiefs could turn out to be more greedy than one expected. So a little more ‘hongo’ would be brought out. Which turned out to run according to the script.
“Have you not noticed I have my wives with me, and you give me so little?”
With a great show of apology Lugard had the porter lay a few more rolls of cloth and some beads on top of the pile. “This year, O chief, things are more expensive in the markets.”
“Muthengi!” came the powerful voice of the chief.
Instantly four men got up from the fringes of the group and took up the gifts and vanished into the palace such as it was. One of them came out with two stools, one of which looked taller than the other, which was offered to Lugard; the shorter one went to his interpreter. Lugard could be thankful for his wide-brimmed hat, which shielded his head and face from the worst of the sun, while the interpreter had no such protection.
What followed was an intricate exchange during which Waiyaki wrung promises from the representative of the Queen in England to protect him from his enemies to the south, that is the Masai. A treaty was signed between the parties, although neither Waiyaki nor his courtiers could read the contents thereof. Neither could they mount any protest if the other party failed to honour its part, since they did not know what that was to begin with!
True to promise, in the evening hour, a damsel was brought to the hut that Lugard was given. Of a round shape, its walls were a special kind of mud plastered over slender joists; the small bed was made of sticks nailed to a frame attached to the curved wall, on which rushes formed what you might call a mattress. Lugard was sitting on the bed writing up his journal when a female voice called out. He stuck his head out to find out what the matter was and there stood a tall, regal woman beside whom was a young girl who appeared to be in her late teens or probably early twenties. Two paces behind them was an armed man who might have been of the band of soldiers that had met his caravan earlier in the day, standing as straight as his spear and as immovable. The woman gave the girl a gentle shove towards the hut, seemed to count to five in her head, then turned back. The soldier did not move until she was almost stepping on his toes, whereupon he made a smart about turn and led her back whence they came.
Lugard held out his hand to the damsel who gave hers into his. He pulled her into the hut, in the process pulling the woven mat which served as a door to cover the doorway. He swept the journal and pen off the bed and sat her on it. According to his briefing, if she had been married, her clothing would have covered her torso, but now her naked breasts stood out proudly on her chest. He paused for a moment wondering how men in this culture showed a woman that they loved or desired them. Then he decided to simply follow his instincts.
He held her head in his hands, looking into her face, whose eyes were wide with wonder, appearing as if she did not know whether she was going to come out of this alive. When he brought his face towards hers he felt her stiffen slightly. But he went ahead to place his lips on hers and gave her a little kiss. Immediately it was obvious she had never been kissed in her whole life. So he gave her the whole treatment, holding the back of her Trabzon Escort Bayan head with one hand, while the other went to her waist, holding her tenderly. Gently he parted her lips and pushed his tongue into her mouth. He let it duel with hers, although she did not know what to do with hers.
Nevertheless after a moment he heard a soft moan, as her hand came to rest on his upper arm. He pulled his tongue out to her lips but she brought her head towards his, not permitting his tongue to leave her mouth. He sucked her, rolled his tongue inside her mouth, under her tongue, over it, sucked her some more. The pressure of her fingers on his arm grew. Then he moved his hand from her waist to her breast. He could feel the half-fruit just under her skin, as if it were sliding on an oily substance. This led her to cry out in pleasure.
‘Wait til I bring my mouth into service there,’ he thought. He held the other breast in his palm and kneaded it in the same way, rolling the oiled ripening fruit around. Females in this culture were not expected to take an active part in sex, he surmised, since her hand had not moved from his arm, the only change being a slight one of pressure.
When he pulled his mouth from hers she looked at him with startled eyes, but he did not pay her any heed. Instead he lowered his mouth to the breast that his hand had vacated and licked all around it, before letting his tongue graze over the erect nipple. This now prompted her hand to come to the back of his head, whether to cradle it, or pull him closer to her tit, he did not know. Her fingers were making tentative movements in his hair, which he could tell were foreign to her nature. He squeezed the nipple between his lips bringing her to scream out loudly. It was clear to Lugard she had never felt anything like it, although her fingers were fondling the back of his head tenderly, welcoming what he was doing to her. He moved stations to the other breast, sucking and licking.
“Aaaah!” she wailed. When she became incoherent he could understand her better than before. He switched from one breast to the other quickly. This must have pushed her right over the edge. Her whole body stiffened, her grip on the back of his head became so powerful, out of her direct control and she yelled into the evening air. At this point he held onto one breast sucking its nipple strongly. When her cries of orgasm died down he heard footsteps around the back of the hut and a voice seeming to ask another what the matter was. The other replied in tones suggesting it was not an emergency. He thought,?So I was under guard! Is that for my safety or, in case I tried something? It was difficult to tell with these strange cultures.?
But his cock needed attention. It was standing tall and stiff inside his trousers. He stood up unbuttoned it and folded it neatly and lay it on top of his box at the ‘foot’ of the bed. Then he bent low and untied her garment and threw onto the floor in his hurry to taste these unknown goods. Turning her to lie on her back he placed his knees between her legs, and lowered himself until he felt her lips with his helmet. He ran it up and down her slit finding all her previous wetness gathered there. He pushed the head into that warm wetness, almost causing him to release himself right there, so he pulled back. In this culture a woman apparently was not required to do anything, as she now lay totally inert below him.
He pushed deeper and pulled back once or twice, and this was when she allowed herself any movement. She opened her legs to him letting him sink between her lips and into her tunnel of love. Lugard gave her long, slow, lazy strokes drawing a strangled cry from her tortured throat. He moved his hands to hold her head as he increased the tempo of his fucking. Now incoherent sounds were all she could utter as he drove into her time and time again. He felt her orgasm attack her Escort Trabzon with ferocity as he bottomed out at her cervical entrance, knocking it gently a few times. Her legs tightened around him, and her hands grasped the dry material underneath them as another desperate cry split the air. He thought he heard her cry out to the God of the Kikuyu, Ngai, but he could not be sure.
He could be certain though, that her vaginal walls were tightening around his now stationary cock as she came. Somehow he could tell that this was not usual for her, that she did not expect to get any pleasure from lying with a man. He began to make gentle movements in and out of her cunt, and she cried desperately as if it had been too much for her. Slowly he pulled almost out of her cunt and drove back languidly and then out again. He picked up speed bit by bit, further exciting her. Her hands were now around his neck, while one was at the back of his head as if to make sure that he wouldn’t bolt and leave her alone again. He fucked her at a regular pace until he heard by the cries she was emitting that she had arrived at the crucial junction. This time she even moved her pelvis in rhythm to his strokes, her nails scratching the nape of his neck uncontrollably.
When he felt her subsiding, he angled his cock so that it became a toothbrush to the teeth of her clitoral hood. This must have been another new sensation to her as she opened her mouth wide without emitting any sound as he attacked her with the head, picking up speed gradually. This caused her body to erupt in uncoordinated movements all over the pallet on which they lay. He could feel that he himself was not far from coming. By lengthening his stroke to take in her clit as well as her hole, he brought himself to the boil and he felt the hot semen rush up the length of his cock to be shot in a powerful jet into her cunt. In the throes of his climax he also felt her reach a peak like the previous ones, this time her hands slapping his back in rapid fire in the grips of another quality orgasm.
They both collapsed side by side and drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep. Lord Lugard awoke in the deep of night to find his damsel peacefully asleep, but with her breast within reach of his mouth. He lowered his head towards it but found the strain on the back of his neck unbearable. Slowly, gently he turned her, avoiding to wake her until his lips could reach the breast with more comfort. Soon he was nursing on her quietly. Then he felt her stir in her sleep as the sensations from her breasts arrived in her brain dragging her back to wakefulness.
The result of this was that she cradled his head to her breast with her hand quite as if she were nursing an infant. Lugard found this very stimulating, as he had no memory of nursing at his own mother’s breast. His fingers were palpitating the other breast, causing her to moan softly. Keeping active at her breasts with his mouth he moved his hand down to her cunt. He found it was already wet with new desire. He rubbed the lips, feeling the abundance of juices she had poured out. Inside her hole, he found the juices of their earlier coupling. She pulled him on top of her, evidently wanting more of what he had given her in the evening. He who was accustomed to be in command now complied.
Lifting himself over her he placed the angry red head of his organ where it was most needed and pushed in. This time he slid in smoothly and set up his rhythm going all the way to her depths and drawing out again. Both were in such a state of arousal that they reached orgasm together in scant minutes. He spent some minutes kissing her while his tool was still inside, gradually deflating. Finally he could stay inside no longer and he slid off to the side. Keeping his arms around her he kept up a kissing until sleep overtook them. The last thought in his numbed brain was that if he were a man of weaker character this Uganda mission would be placed at great risk. He knew, deep in his psyche, being who he was, that he would have to leave her behind to execute his mandate for Queen and country. Meanwhile, he had a few more days of this bliss.
And he was determined to enjoy them to the full.
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