Swirl Romance Stories

by Louis Alexandre Forestier

  The boy made a defensive gesture, implying “That will be it for the moment.”

  “ Now tell me about you.”

  “ My name Cristelle Mboma. I’m thirty years old and was born in Douala, Cameroon.

  “Is that the capital?”

  “ No, the administrative capital is Yaoundé. Douala is the economic capital of the country, mostly due to its harbor on the Atlantic Ocean”.

  “Are you member of a particular ethnic group? I know that in Africa everything is mixed up.”

  “ Not any more than it is here. I belong to the bamileke ethnicity, common in Cameroon.”

  “Your accent is French.”

  “I come from the French-speaking part of Cameroon, but we also have our own tribal dialect. I studied at the Catholic University for Central Africa, though I did not finish my law studies.”

  “When did you arrive in Buenos Aires?”

  “ About five years ago.”

  “The same as me. That explains your good Spanish. And tell me, why did you leave Cameroon?”

  “It’s a very poor country, with little chance of progress. My sisters left the country before me.”

  “Where do they live?”

  “The oldest in Paris and the second in New York. Only my mother is in Douala.”

  “What brought you to Buenos Aires?”

  “A work offer in a financial company with clients in Quebec and France. They needed someone who spoke good French…and was cheap enough, I guess.”

  “Are you still working there?”

  “Oui.”

  Federico slid his right hand on the table and placed it on the girl´s hands, caressing them.

  “You’ve a very soft skin.”

  “ A feature of my race. Yours is hard, you have calluses.”

  “Due to all the time I spent helping my father in rural tasks.”

  The young man raised her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently.

  “You’re very sweet.” She said.

  “Your skin is sweet.” Replied the man.

  On leaving the cafe Federico offered to accompany the girl to her home, only a couple of blocks away. He took her hand looking at the envious glances of some guys they crossed in the street who surely at that hour in a Saturday afternoon probably went hunting for the night.

  “It’s right here.” Said Cristelle stopping in front of a door. It was an old apartment house that had been elegant in its time and was very well preserved. Federico also stopped somewhat surprised.

  “What is it? ¿You expected me to live in a pigsty?”- Asked the woman. “¿Too good for an African immigrant?”

  The boy did not answer; he passed his left arm around her waist and in one smooth motion pulled her close and both moved towards the door of the house, on which the shadows of the night were already falling. For a moment their faces stayed facing each other at close range, until finally the two joined their lips in a long, passionate kiss that conveyed many ardent messages. Cristelle wrapped her arms over the shoulders of the young man, for what she had to stand on her tiptoes despite being a meter seventy tall. Her hand stroked the nape of the man and messed up his hair. Federico’s hand began to scroll down her waist until it reached her bulging buttocks where it stopped.

  “Oh.” Said he.“This is glorious.”

  “Another feature of my race.”

  “I want to know all those features.”

  “Don´t you think you’re going too fast?”

  The young man was about to answer when behind them was heard a cluck of two women talking loudly as they reached the door of the building. Cristelle pushed the boy apart and sought to place her clothes in order.

  Federico looked frustrated by the sudden cut in a romantic moment but his embarrassment gave way to surprise when he noticed that the woman was talking in French with two black young women accompanied by a girl of mixed blood.

  “ Federico, let me introduce you my friends Anabelle and Chantal.” Said Cristelle. “He is Federico.”

  Both women presented their cheeks and all exchanged friendly kisses as has become a ritual in Argentina.

  “And who it is this beauty.” Asked Federico, referring to the blushing girl who hid behind the pants of the woman named Chantal, evidently her mother.

  “She is Lourdy, is seven years old and is my daughter.”

  After some incidental comments and yielding to curiosity the boy asked.

  “Are you all from Cameroon? I ask that because you all have a slight French accent.”

  “No. Replied Chantal.” Anabelle and I are Haitian and came ten years ago, and Lourdy was born in Buenos Aires.”

  When Chantal ended with the introductions she drew a computed key that opened the building door and the three newcomers joined it.

  “I´ll be up in a moment.” Said Cristelle.

  “Have you got the key?” Asked Anabelle.

  “Yes. Of course.”

  When they were alone again Federico passed his arms around the waist of the African girl saying.

  “Where have we left…?”

  “Stop! They almost caught us once.”

  “Who is this handsome guy, and where did you meet him?” Asked excited Anabelle when Cristelle entered the apartment. “I´m glad you got so lucky?”

  “I told you not talk to me in Creole as there are many words I do not understand. You also have to improve your French which is what feeds you since that’s why you have been employed at the hotel. Also since your sister sends Lourdy to an expensive French School it´s important that the child hears it spoken properly at home.”

  For Cristelle, being a member of the comprehensive global space of French culture it was an essential feature of her personality engraved during her childhood in Cameroon. She was proud indeed of her knowledge of grammar and pronunciation. Constantly correcting her friends when they spoke in Creole, the Haitian dialect or patois the woman effectively took pains to make the girl speak only in French.

  “And answering your question, let me remind you that I saw him first. At eighteen you´ll have plenty of time of getting what you want.”

  “There are not so many chances for a black girl in this country.”Anabelle replied ruefully.

  “On the contrary! Black women are becoming fashion worldwide. Beauty paradigms are changing. Artists and color models rank at the top in addition to the singers and athletes. You see black women as main characters in many pictures and series. Marriages between black women and white men are the fastest growing interracial group in the US and elsewhere. My personal experience in Argentina is that I can choose the man I want.”

  “Well.” Added Anabelle still not convinced. “But I do not have your silhouette.”

  “What you mean is that you don´t have my behind … yet.”

  Chapter 2

  Passionate Interlude

  Cristelle and Federico could meet again only the following Saturday. The jobs of both and the fact that the boy lived in the quarter called Saavedra, near the border between the city of Buenos Aires and the province of the same name, therefore far from downtown and the district of Congreso, made it difficult to get together during the working days. Therefore both had accumulated desires to be close to each other.

  They were having dinner at a small bistro where later there would be a show. The woman had ordered calamari which was a specialty of the site at least on weekends.

  “So tell me, what was the reaction of your friends when they met me?” Asked he in a casual way.

  “I do not like to admit it, but Anabelle has been hit by you, so I had to scare her off to avoid intrusions in my yard.” Cristelle tone was jocular.

  “ She is just a girl.”

  “Which ensures that her hormones are working at full capacity.”

  “She is not a match for you.”

  “I know these girls. You do not have much experience with black women.”

  “You’re wrong at that.”

  “And where did you meet a black
woman in Buenos Aires?”

  “ It was in Caracas. We were both very young.”

  “ So what attracted you to me was not the desire of experimenting.” Said Cristelle laughing.

  “No, I like you in particular. Not just any black woman.”

  “How do you feel walking arm in arm with an African woman through the city? I realize that we stand out as a couple.”

  “Why should I feel in any special way?”

  “You are replying a question with another. Just give me a straight answer.”

  “All right. I notice that the boys we meet look at me with envy.”

  “Sure. Especially those who watch me from behind.” Both burst into laughter.

  “Well.” Concluded Federico. “At least you’re aware of … your attributes.”

  “Difficult to be unaware of them in this city. It´s like Italy. By the way, your last name is Italian?”

  “Yes, in my hometown there are many.”

  “You don´t look like the typical Italian.”

  “My grandparents came from northern Italy. In fact, you’re not the typical French either.” They both laughed again.

  The conversation then drifted to Cristelle´s family.

  “So your mother lives in Cameroon. She’s alone?”

  “ There are also some uncles and cousins, who help her in the retail store. I sometimes send money to cover bad times.”

  “And your sisters?”

  “ You cannot count on them. They have the same problem that Anabelle and Chantal. They do not know how to solve problems of daily life. They frequently call me to tell them what to do though I’m the younger sister.”

  “So you’re the fortress of the family.”

  “You could say that. But I assure you that bearing other people problems when mine are unresolved is not funny.”

  “That also includes Chantal and Anabelle´s problems?”

  “Unfortunately yes. Anabelle is a teenager, but Chantal is already an adult and the mother of a child.”

  “And in what way you have to take care of their problems?”

  “I must make all the decisions for them, even those concerning Lourdy´s education.”

  “I find it difficult to understand. They look like two literate, not ignorant women.”

  “It doesn´t have anything to do with their formal education, which is actually good to be Haitian. Rather, it is related to their attitude towards life. They live in fear of making any decisions. So they overwhelm me asking that I take decisions for them. Besides, both girls have some…strange backward looking beliefs.”

  “Do you all live together in that apartment?”

  “Yes. I used to rent one on my own in Liniers, but I had to travel a lot to go to my job, which is in Parque Patricios. Now I pay the girls a small rent and we all benefit.”

  “If it makes you a very heavy burden you can always move to live alone again.”

  “I’ve taken a liking to them and to the girl, who also consults me about all kinds of issues. They are the closest thing to a family that I have here. And I´m also saving money”.

  “The apartment is big enough for you all?”

  “Yes. It has three bedrooms and a spacious living room. It is an old building, in a time when houses were ample. And tell me. Where do you live?”

  “In Saavedra, on the border with the province of Buenos Aires. My aunt and uncle have a big house there.”

  The waitress brought the desserts they had ordered, and they ate them in silence. At the end Cristelle stared into his eyes and as this time she placed her hand over his.”

  “I thought your eyes were blue, but they are green.”

  “Aha.”

  They both made silence for a moment.

  “What would you like to do now?”Asked Cristelle.

  “You tell me.”

  “Would you like to go dancing?”

  “I’m very bad dancer.”

  I could teach you. I dance very well. It is something that comes very naturally to us blacks.”

  “I imagine so.”

  Cristelle stroked his forearm while he slid his right hand under the table and introduced it under her skirt caressing her knees and lower thighs. The girl sighed and said.

  “Else we could go to my apartment. It is three blocks from here.”

  “What would your friends think?”

  “They’ve taken the child to the movies. Besides it is also my home, I have my rights.”

  They walked hastily the short distance as hormones swarmed inside. Cristelle opened the heavy building door and they took the old elevator, slow but elegantly decorated. She pressed the fifth floor button. As soon as the elevator door closed Federico came upon her kissing her lips and inserting his hands under her skirt as the girl hugged him and messed his hair. Finally the elevator stopped rather abruptly interrupting the scene.

  “ Here we are. Let’s go down.” Said Cristelle.

  As soon as the woman opened the apartment door Federico placed her with her back on it and embraced her frantically as he toured her body with his hands, placing them again under the skirt. She took off her shoes and said.

  “Come to my bedroom. Apparently you’re determined to find something under my skirt so let’s do it comfortably.”

  Upon entering the room Cristelle dragged him to the bed where they fell over each other. The woman took off her skirt exposing her fleshy and black legs and bright white panties that contrasted with those. Federico took off his shirt and tried to lower his pants, but she took his head in her hands and led it on her crotch. The man immediately understood her purpose.

  “Well, if this is what you want.” Said as he buried his face in the inner thighs of his partner. The woman removed her panties exhibiting her Mount of Venus.

  “Here it is where I want to feel you. Then there will be time for the rest.” Said Cristelle.

  What followed was the result of unbridled hormones. The woman’s black legs and his white face and hands rubbed until both felt the pain. Then she opened her legs completely and pushed the man’s head between them. The movements of the pelvis of the girl became frantic when approaching the clitoral orgasm. The bed got wet with the fluids of both. Cristelle watched from above the face of the man flushed with excitement and friction with the skin of her thighs. The liberating climax came amid jerky movements of the woman´s entire body, who was then momentarily sedated.

  “Well, now it’s your turn, but you must first excite me as before.” She told the boy.

  At that moment they heard several noises coming from the room and cries of a child.

  “Merde.” “Exclaimed Cristelle.” They have already arrived; the truth is I expected them later. Hurry! We must fix our clothes and the bed.”

  After the dismissal of her friends Cristelle accompanied the young man to the lift.

  “I’m sorry that you could not release your excitement.” She said. “But I promise I´ll overcompensate you next time.” This time the farewell kiss was languid and tender.

  When Chantal and Lourdy went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, Anabelle entered Cristelle´s bedroom with an accomplice gesture.

  “I want all the details!”

  “What details? What do you think that happened?”

  “Don´t take me for a fool. I noticed how excited you both were. Tell me everything.”

  Cristelle agreed apparently in a reluctant way, but deep inside her she was eager to share what happened and Anabelle was the right person to make a confidence.

  Chapter 3

  The family

  Federico hastened to shave and dress. He put some special effort into his outfit because he wanted to reverse the impression he had given the previous weekend before Cristelle´s friends when he had left in an untimely way after being nearly caught red-handed in the middle of a raw scene of oral sex. In addition, the degree of excitement he had at that time had not allowed him to greet the girls properly.

  Cristelle had called the day before to in
form him that Chantal, Anabelle and she had decided to invite Federico to dinner that Saturday. That weekend promised to be more formal than the previous one, although from the point of view of Federico´s expectations perhaps less interesting.

  He rang the bell on the fifth floor and was responded by the intercom by a voice he recognized as belonging to Chantal. She spoke in French but as she recognized the young man´voice she turned immediately to Castilian.

  “I´ll be right down to open up.”

  When the woman opened the door Federico noticed that she was well dressed and groomed. He wondered if she would have to leave afterwards or if it was only in honor of his visit. With her hair dress leaving her face clear, the boy saw that Chantal had a very beautiful, intelligent face. Federico gave her a kiss on the cheek and said.

  “I brought this bottle of wine, it´s a Cabernet Sauvignon.”

  “Well, now we leave it in the kitchen. We shall drink it today.”

  Upon entering the apartment the man saw that the three women were in the kitchen. Lourdy was in the living room watching a children show on television. The girl looked at him with her big eyes and smiled.

  “Mom says you’re coming for dinner tonight.”

  “That´s right, I have been invited. Does that makes you happy?”

  “Yes. We receive very few visitors at home.”

  “Well, being a visitor is better than nothing.” Said the young man to himself. When looking back to the girl he saw that she was swinging on the couch in incredible contortions, showing the flexibility of her slender body.

  “Take care! You can fall and get hurt.”

  “Do not worry; I’m used to doing exercises here”.

  “ Don´t they take you to a park or to a club to do gymnastics?”

  “ Mom and Aunt Anabelle are always working.”

  So the girl started telling Federico her daily activities on weekdays, reduced to double shifts in school, then doing her homework when she returned to the apartment.

  “Are you going to a French school?”

  “Yes.”

  “ Teaching is in two languages, right?”

  “Yes. French in the morning and Castilian in the afternoon.”

  “What subjects do you like best?” Asked Federico waiting to receive music or physical activity for an answer.