Chapter 7 GAME ONE IN THE GAME PARK
The next morning, Hansie picked Tasheka up to take her to the airport for her flight to Sabi Game Reserve for her promised 4-day safari. After greeting her, he casually asked her how she had been since he had left her the afternoon before and was slightly startled at the warmth of her response. Tasheka too was slightly taken aback at the spontaneous enthusiasm of her reply, and had a sudden panic about what she would answer if he asked her what she’d been doing. Fortunately, though he indeed wanted to ask her what she had done, he felt that would be indiscreet and said only that he was glad that her visit to South Africa had been rewarding. She replied truthfully that it had been, but that she was looking forward even more to the game park. The rest of the conversation stopped until he dropped her at the domestic departures hall at ORT, where a representative from Sabi was waiting to escort her plane, was inconsequential.
She was getting quite used to being coddled by everybody, and briefly wondered if the international travel she had halfway planned for herself as part of her new life would be quite so pleasant when she was on her own. But at least, she was considering it, which she would never have done if she’d remained in Denver. Her new self-confidence suggested that she would rise to the occasion. The Sabi private plane was a small four-seater jet, which gave her initial apprehension, but she was surprised to find the plane felt safer than a large one. She was sure it wasn’t, but it felt like it. The flight was only about 50 minutes, and almost immediately she was on the ground in the low veldt.
*
Morné lay on his cot massaging his morning stiffie and wishing the hand doing the massaging wasn’t his own. Specifically he was wishing the hand belonged to S’du. But it didn’t and was never going to again. Fuck! Life was hardly worth living. S’du had cancer and she had gone back to her village to die. Morné couldn’t share his grief with anybody because he’d never told anybody about S’du. The apartheid miscegenation laws may have been repealed on paper but they hadn’t been repealed in people’s minds. His friends and family would be appalled if they knew that he’d been sleeping with a Zulu. It might be OK in Jo’Burg, but Morné was from Polokwane, where it was mostly white relationships only. Even his fellow game guides, a more liberated lot, would fail to understand that for him, S’du had been more than an easy lay. He loved her. He still loved her even though she had forbidden him to visit at her home, wanting neither the fuss it would cause her family – nor for him to see her wasting away and wracked with constant pain. It was a fucking pile of shit, that’s what it was.
And nothing to be done about it. The plane carrying his client from Jo’Burg would be on the ground any minute, and he had to meet it, scrubbed and grinning, and acting like the client was the best thing that had happened to him since Christmas. He groaned, levered himself off the cot and managed to be at the field just as the plane touched down.
When Tasheka stepped out of the plane, he was astounded. He’d been told that the client was a female, but nobody had mentioned that she was black. Black clients of any description were very rare at Sabi, one of the most expensive private parks in South Africa; unaccompanied black women never happened – at least in his experience. Well, it would be interesting, if nothing else.
Tasheka, when she saw Morné coming towards her with a smile, was both surprised and not at all happy. Her experience with Afrikaner men had not been encouraging, and the last thing she wanted was four days of subtle insults and denigrating assumptions. But perhaps he’d be another Hansie. She hoped so.
And she had to admit too, that as long as he didn’t speak, she would enjoy his presence from an aesthetic point of view. He was definitely eye candy, even to her. Short and stocky, he was nevertheless straight off the cover of “Men’s Health,” eye-catching muscles everywhere that showed, as she assumed other intimate places as well. His tight and skimpy safari uniform revealed thick arms, legs and neck bronzed by the sun – practically as dark as some of her “black” family in America. His hair, close cropped, was bleached almost white by the sun. To top it off, he exuded a healthy energy that raised her spirits. She smiled back.
As he showed her to her tent, the conversation was stilted – like a couple of porcupines getting acquainted. But by the time he’d escorted her to the dining lapa for a sumptuous breakfast, they’d relaxed, both of them tentatively discovering that they were sympathetic types despite their totally different backgrounds. As they ate, Tasheka could see a family of elephants playing at the waterhole just outside and was entranced. In the flesh, with the heat and African sounds and smells, they were quite different from the ones on the TV. Although she listened to him with real interest, Morné had ceased to be her central focus. On his part, he sensed that her reaction to the game was emotional and deep. She was not going to be the sort of client who ticked off sighted species on a list and then lost interest in them. They shared that, at least, and he figured it was going to be OK.
When they had finished eating, he asked her if she wanted to rest and wait for the day to cool before they went for a game drive, and to his pleasure, she was most emphatically negative about that idea. This was a lifetime experience, the first – well the second - event in the rest of her life – her new life – and she didn’t want to waste a moment of it. What she’d experienced so far had just been an appetizer. He mentioned that it was already getting hot and uncomfortable, and a lot of the game would be resting in the shade, she remained adamant and told him she’d say so when she’d had enough.
As it happened, the day’s clouds were already beginning to gather, so the heat wasn’t as punishing as it sometimes was, and they were lucky in the game. They had a good viewing of a pair of rhino with a calf, a pod of hippos resting on the bank of a pan with crocodiles in the water, and a family of giraffes. Everything was new to Tasheka, and Morné was delighted to discover when he began his informative guide’s patter, she was interested and even asked intelligent questions, so that he ended up explaining things which he didn’t bother to talk about with the average client.
For Tasheka, the bush was an instant “love at first sight” experience, and more slowly she began to appreciate Morné. Oddly, as a person, he reminded her of Jake. Not only that, sitting next to him in the heat, she was aware of his masculine scent, which stirred up thoughts she’d never expected to have in this situation, certainly not with a white man.
Morné found to his surprise that she reminded him of S’du. As hot and sweaty as he, she gave off a scent that was distinctly African, something he’d particularly enjoyed with S’du. That was welcome. She wasn’t S’du, and though guides often enlivened their nights with sexual dalliance with clients, he thought that in this case, it was very unlikely indeed, and any thoughts of it would only elicit the kind of memories he was sternly trying to banish.
On the evening drive, however, during the traditional pause for drinks as the sun went down, and in the empty moments of the night drive, when sightings, though particularly interesting, were scarce, they discovered their mutual recent bereavement, which created an instant bond of understanding. Morné almost at once considered that they might mutually help fill the black hole in their lives. It took Tasheka longer. For her, his race was an issue.
Chapter 8 DIFFERENT GAME, SAME PARK
After a couple of pre-dinner drinks, and a sumptuous meal, as required because the camp was not fenced, he led her to her tent, taking here hand to guide her – though she didn’t know it – a most unguidely thing to do. As a test, it was inconclusive. She neither squeezed his hand nor removed it, but he was encouraged. There were two more nights to go.
Though she’d given no sign, Tasheka had not been unaware of the feel of his hand on hers nor of its significance. She just had to ponder it. Fatigued, however, by a day replete with new things, she was asleep practically before her head hit the pillow. In the morning, however, she found that her doubts were gone. What Morné had been suggesting was definitely a part of the picture she had of her
new life. What, after all, had she to lose? Nothing she could think of.
The next morning was slightly disappointing as safari’s second days often are, the common game becoming less of a thrill. But just before heading to the camp for breakfast, they found a cheetah family on a kill not far from the road. Morné was able by inching along to get very close without disturbing them, and Tasheka watched, fascinated by the family’s interaction, for nearly half an hour. To communicate, they whispered in each other’s ear, their breath adding a second pleasurable dimension to the occasion. When the moment came when they had to leave or miss breakfast, Morné took the lobe of Tasheka’s ear in his teeth and swept his tongue across it. Tasheka’s obvious pleasure sealed the pact. They both knew how the day would end, and welcomed it.
When Morné left Tasheka at her tent after dinner, he said, “I won’t be long.” He needed to go back to be seen in the dining room. The Sabi staff were no problem, but an inquisitive client could cause problems. When he returned, Tasheka had showered and was naked in bed under a sheet. She’d wondered why she wanted the sheet over her, but found that she was a bit shy about totally exposing herself to a white man’s gaze. When Morné knocked softly, she told him to come in. Quickly taking the situation in, he stripped off his clothes before saying, “Let me slice off the dust,” and headed into the shower. The sight of him naked quickened Tasheka’s pulse. He was, as she had expected, magnificent. The only surprise was that his pubic hair, not having been sun-bleached was several shades darker than that on his head. As he walked away from her, she admired his ass, trimmer than either Jake’s or Solomon’s – typically white.
When Morné reappeared, slightly damp, he gently removed the sheet. “Let me see you.”
“I’m fat.”
“Ah, the more flesh there is, the more there is to enjoy.” Her plumpness reminded him of S’du, though he didn’t mention it. He ran his hands over her body. “Lovely!” he murmured. “A feast.” He lingered over the sight of her milk chocolate inner thighs, deliciously contrasting with the dark chocolate her outer ones. His first sight of that with S’du had excited him, and he was no less excited now with Tasheka. His Afrikaner friends didn’t know what they were missing!
Kneeling, a leg on each side of her thighs, he kissed her, his tongue working furiously with hers. It went on and on until both he and Tasheka needed nothing more. Reaching with one hand down to her crotch, he inserted his fingers into her already soaking center and frothed her juices with them before licking them. “Delicious!” He kissed her again, mingling their juices, and without further ado entered her with a single deep thrust, her hips rising to meet him. He relished the moist heat of her ample thighs as they surrounded him as no slender thighs could. Hooking her knees over his shoulders, he spread and lifted them for the greatest possible conjunction and then slid over her slipperiness in a circular motion that was like nothing she’d ever experienced, even with Jake, his organ dong a tango with hers. It was heaven, but unfortunately not eternal, so it was only moments before every synapse in her body firing, she went off like a mighty skyrocket, red, yellow and green stars invading her mind until there was nothing else there at all. Morné followed moments later with his own no less dramatic climax. Without delay, he withdrew to lie next to her, prolonging her ecstasy and gentling it with his mouth and hand until she was at peace.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “I needed that more than I can say. Never doubt that you are as beautiful as a woman can be.”
“It was my pleasure, believe me. Let’s do it again!”
And so they did, and did it again, until the thought of their pre-sunrise drive just a few hours away, was scheduled to begin before first light intruded. “Never mind,” he murmured. “We’ve another night to enjoy and need to pace ourselves.”
“Yes,” she said, and two almost as delicious days to enjoy in a different way.”
As she drifted into sleep, Tasheka thanked her lucky stars that she had said yes to Africa, and changed her life forever. She was sure Jake would approve, and perhaps was watching and smiling. She hoped so.
The End
Desires of the Golden Girls
Behind the Herbal Teas
Author: Maurice Bedard
Prologue
Helen Patton had recently turned fifty, she was officially in the golden girl club now, so it wouldn't be as bad if she had a companion to share her life with. Helen ached to have a partner to share intimate moments with, missing the warm touch of another across her skin. Living a lonely solitary life was not what Helen would have chosen, but alas it is the life she is now living. She had been married for twenty-three years, when suddenly she found herself being divorced at 46. Her husband left her for a younger woman he had met in his poetry club that he had started three years previously. Well apparently there was more going on at the poetry club than just poetry readings. John, Helen's ex-husband would spend late hours hanging out at Jenna's Java Shop on Blain Ave, often meeting his poetry group there. Looking back John also used to go to a lot of writer's conventions, these were held in larger cities across the country. He would be gone for one or two nights. The reality was, he was meeting with Dana, looking for the passion he used to come to Helen for. Helen knew that the passion between John and herself had faded long before he left her for Dana. If the truth be told, she was the one that showed no interest towards John in a sexual way, for many years. So it was really no surprise that he went looking for a sexual relationship outside their marriage. Helen did not hold John totally responsible for this, she too had her part in ending their marriage. The truth was Helen found that she was not attracted to John in a sexual way anymore. She found herself constantly avoiding physical contact with him, she even moved into the spare room under the guise of his snoring was keeping her awake. She did not blame John in the least for divorcing her.
John was a copywriter that always envisioned himself as the “New age Shakespeare”, this was something that Helen didn't see in John, in-fact she found his poetry uninspiring and downright boring to the ear. Not that she ever told John that, but instead she always supported his dream of writing the best collection of poems. Which for John has been an ongoing project for many years, or more of a project that has been talked about—but has yet to see the light of day! Helen is a florist, she runs her own flower shop that is a five-minute walk from home, something she enjoys almost as much as tending her home garden. Sitting back enjoying a nice herbal tea on her back deck while surrounded by the peace and calm of her garden is something she gains much pleasure from. But it does not fill that void in her life where she aches to be touched and held in a passionate embrace. Her mind wanders as she looks back into her past, to a time when she was full of love and passion, and felt that she was desired in a sexual way. These days she can't remember the last time she had an intimate connection with another person. It has been too long that she has gone without love and affection in her life. She wanted to have that back in her life, but had she left it too late—was she too old or too late to find her soulmate?
Helen and John have a daughter, Forest, she is 19 and is in her first year at UC Berkeley College of Environmental Design, she is hoping to become an architect. Forest is living in Berkeley, California a long way from her hometown of Woodstock, Vermont with a population of just over 3,000. So now Helen finds that she is living in an empty nest, if she didn't have her three close friends Rita, Lily, and Val, she doesn't know what she would do. She also loves that she has Skype on her computer that she can chat with Forest on, at least once a week. Recently she had her three friends over for a girl's night at her place. Helen enjoyed the company of her friends, while sitting out on her back deck—barbecuing chicken kebabs, and sipping on some long island iced-teas. Soon after, Rita started mentioning an online dating site called “Golden Dates.” Rita suggested to Helen that she should check it out, that she should try to meet a nice male companion. Rita has been a widow for seve9n years, after her husband Ray dropped dead in their gara
ge from a heart attack. Rita had decided to move forward with her life after seven years of widowhood, no more dreary dark outfits was the beginning of Rita's coming out, so to speak. Rita is always dressed to the nines, wherever she goes. She was going on a date on Saturday with a man she had met on this “Golden Dates” dating website. Rita had explained that the people on this site were like themselves, in their golden years, looking for companionship. After some coaxing from Rita, over the past three years, Helen finally decides to check out the dating site, and this is her “Golden Dates” story...............
Chapter 1. New Member of “Golden Date”
Helen sits down at Jenna's Java shop where Rita has been waiting for her to join her for lunch. She makes her order of a Chi tea, a mushroom omelette, and brown toast. Rita is sitting almost ready to explode, she bursts out as the waitress walks away from the table—“well did you do it or did you chicken out?” “Yes, I did it last-night after watching the Jimmy Fallon show, you are looking at a new member of the Golden Dates site. I can't believe I am on a dating site.”—“Hey just because we are in our golden years doesn't mean we are dead, we golden girls need some lovin, just like everybody else” replied Rita with a chuckle. “Just think about it Helen we might be able to go on a double date, how fun will that be?”
Passion For the Bear (Series 1, 2, 3 Compilation): White Spirit Bear Romance: Shifter, Erotic Romance, Suspense, Paranormal, New Adult Romance (Shifters Book 5) Page 203