Etemesi's Tales | The Girl Who Didn't Wear Panties

• Etemesi's Tales

WARNING

EXPLICIT CONTENT: Do Not Read If You Are Holier Than Thou

During the Easter holidays, I decided to go to Kampala with my buddy Brayo since there were no plans for a family get together on my side. Brayo has lots of reliable connections in Uganda. He studied at Makerere so that quite explains why. Also, this meant that finding a place to stay on our few days there wasn’t going to be a problem.

On Good Friday, we hopped from place to place and after dusk, we partied with one of Brayo’s Ugandan pals called Mukasa. He was a huge guy and a beast with women. I enjoyed watching him in action. He even took a girl to the washrooms
and banged her. Unfortunately, Brayo and I didn’t get to chips funga anyone so we retired to Mukasa’s home in a nearby estate at around 2 am.

On Sato, Mukasa chomoad another plan. There was a traditional wedding ceremony taking place just near where he lived. He said there’d be lots of girls so declining wasn’t an option for us.

At the gate, every guest was supposed to confirm their name on their invitations list. Apparently, Uganda is the land of gate crushers. Fail to put appropriate security measures at your party and the whole community will pop in. Luckily, the security guys accepted the bribes from Mukasa and allowed us in

“These are my good Kenyan friends, Don’t charge them too much”, he told the guys before pressing a few notes on their hands and asking us to follow him

Inside, we were forced to sit through hundreds of speeches that were all delivered in Luganda. Brayo and Mukasa had plenty to talk about so they didn’t seem bored. As for me, I almost felt lost. I asked Brayo if we could leave and go somewhere more exciting but Mukasa assured us that food and hard partying would follow just right after the sppeches

As I persevered the incomprehensible rumblings, a pretty girl came and sat next to me because the venue was almost full and the sit next to me was one of the few ones available.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke

“Are you from around here? I’ve never seen you before”

I swear she spoke like Kansiime, only that her voice had more soprano to it, making her sound more sexy.

“No I am actually from Kenya,” I answered with a smile

“Nice. I love Kenyans, even though I have never talked to one before. I am Grace. But you can call me Nasiche. I like that more. I am a teacher at Nabisunsa Girls Secondary School.”

She was already giving out too much information but it was okay. Too much info always means that a girl is interested in you.

“I am Philip. Nice to meet you Nasiche. What does Nasiche mean?”

“It means ‘one born during the locust season’.”

Our conversation picked up pretty well from there even though it was difficult for me to be a good boy and keep my eyes off her cleavage and thighs, She was such a hottie. I swear she must have noticed my maneuvering eyes. We talked for almost an hour before she suggested leaving the place to go have lunch.

“I am hungry. These people won’t finish their speeches anytime soon. They are like pastors on Christmas day. They just keep people hungry for too long intentionally. I think I should go to my house and have lunch before I come back. You can come if you like”

“Is it far from here?” I asked

“No, just five minutes walk.”

I had to go with her or else she might leave and I would never see her again. So I informed Brayo and Mukasa about my temporary departure, then accompanied my new ‘friend’

Her house was a soothing pale cream, and she'd worked very hard to keep the garden and the profusion of plants on the front porch and the back patio tidy. It wasn't a big house, not by any means, but it was lovely and warm and homey.

Nasiche seemed like a lady with a bold, dominant personality, but she radiated a very feminine vulnerability that had crept beneath my skin and aroused my most primitive protective instincts. She took a few minutes to cook and soon, we were eating some strange tasting meat with matoke.

I kept eating while telling her multiple interesting stories about Kenya then to my surprise, she reached for my fork and cut off a big piece of matoke chunks. When she led the fork to my mouth, i automatically parted my lips, and she slipped the piece inside.

I closed my lips, and an expression of sheer ecstasy flashed across my face. "Good God," i said, taking the fork from her and cutting off another bite, then feeding her too. "This is decadently delicious."

Things moved swiftly from there and it wasn’t long before we were kissing. As we munched on each other, I instinctively gathered her into my arms and began caressing her.

It was easy for my hands to explore every part of her body since we were eating from the couch. I took my time from boobs to thighs, before sneaking my fingers into her soaking poosy

“I don’t wear panties by the way” she declared

“You never wear panties?” I asked for clarification

“I don’t like panties. I like being free” she said, smiling, before kissing me again

They say girls that don’t wear panties are slutty but at this point I didn’t care much. All I wanted was to bang a Ugandan.

Eyes closed, we let our mouths linger against one another. Immediately a riot of sensations was set into motion. What i felt was strong enough to wipe away the fear of her possible smuttiness, to allow me to forget the probabilities of a former partner of hers busting in the room. What would be the headlines in blogs back home?

‘Team Mafisi Member beaten Like A Burukenge In Ugandan Soil By Woman’s Jealous Lover’

It was in my best interests to put such fears behind me and enjoy the moment

Nasiche was hot with lust, she didn't mind at all when I loosened the belt of her skirt and parted it. She enjoyed the rush of cool air, the extra bit of freedom, the feel of my hand slipping up her top and finding one welcoming breast. We kissed and touched, caressed and learned one another, until Nasiche found herself lying on her back with me cradled between her legs.