A PanAfricanist Queer Womanist Collective
The Saturday afternoon catch up session led to Saturday night wine and leftovers affair. I hadn’t seen Wambui since our second year at university when our university had told her she was not quite academically welcome anymore. Since then she had moved to the United Kingdom and we had since lost touch. She had now moved back to Johannesburg to finish her law degree and after bumping into her on a grocery run I invited over her to my apartment for lunch. Together, we proceeded to buy several bottles of wine and the ingredients for an elaborate steak meal. We came home in a cloud of nostalgia to find Mpho, my girlfriend, sipping beers with our Ghanaian friend Amina. Amina was woman who oozed the confidence of someone who had seen the depths of ecstasy in the eyes of many a beautiful woman. She was spread across the couch as she and Mpho lazily carried on a conversation.
‘Amina get up we have guests’ I scolded.
Amina casually looked over her shoulder at Wambui. She allowed her eyes to roam every inch of Wambui’s curvaceous body finishing the journey with an appreciative smile
She propped herself up on an elbow and held out her hand to Wambui who returned the handshake firmly. The handshake lingered a fraction too long but this went unnoticed as preparations for dinner began. Wambui and I drank and chatted amidst the aroma of the food Wambui and I prepared whilst the other two women continued through their beers.
Somebody watching the scene from afar would have seen the glances stolen in our direction by the two women in the sitting room. They would have seen that the conversation between them sometimes fell into whispers. Lunch was soon over but the drinking continued late into the evening with the conversation covering everything from politics, to celebrity gossip, to our native countries.
The evening turned to night and the clock on the DSTV showed 1 am, and everyone was invited to spend the night as it became clear the night was far from being over. Mpho’s old Varsity t-shirts were handed out and after all had changed into various sleeping gear the liquor fuelled conversation continued, eventually addressing the elephant in the room.
‘You’re with a woman Kagure? aki tell me how long has it been? Imagine I never picked it up tat you were gay. All these years,’ she said her Kenyan accent flowing from her lips more strongly the longer the evening drew on.
‘It’s been about a year now.’
‘Ngai. So in university…?’
‘Ah, them days it was touch and go. I thought it was a ‘phase’ but people must just grow.’ she had begun to draw out my accent as well. After 9 years living in South Africa here one of my fellow Kenyans could still do that.
The wine had seemed to have loosened her tongue. ‘If only I had known, the way I used to been curious. You know the way you look at a woman and wonder what her breasts feel like or just stare at her when she is changing. Si we could have made a plan’ She stroked my leg and winked at me and we both burst into drunken giggles. ‘I can tell you these things now because you experience them every day.’ Again we were overtaken by giggles.
Only now did we realise that the other two had lapsed into silence and were watching us intently. Actually to be more accurate Amina was staring at Wambui intently in a way I had seen her do so many times to an array of women.
‘You were curious?’ Amina asked.
Wambui turned to Amina as if seeing her for the first time. ‘Yes I was but that was just foolishness. Nothing serious.’ She shrugged and sipped her drink.
‘So you’re not curious anymore?’
‘It’s not that I’m not curious it’s just that we were in undergrad and young and everyone wants to try something new…’ her voice trailed off as she understood the look Amina was giving her. It was a look that was a clear invitation.
Amina got up from her seat and pulling back her dread locks into a pony tail. She kneeled down in front of the speechless woman. Amina’s eyes consumed her body as her gaze slid from Wambui’s eyes down to her breasts, the mounds of which were just visible beneath the old shirt to her exposed thick brown thighs. She reached out and begun to explore her slowly. Working her way down she kissed her thigh.
‘Uh uh…I’m not one of those…’, Wambui begun.
The second kiss, which was further up her thigh, cut Wambui’s words short. I sat, mesmerised by the ability that Amina had to bend the will of my old university friend. A will that had been formed by years of homophobia and patriarchal values. A will broken by a single touch of Amina’s lips to the softness of her inner thigh.
‘I know you want this because I can smell you. Let me quench your curiosity’. She continued to kiss further and further up her thigh and we witnessed Wambui’s body submit to the wave upon wave of sensation. Amina bit the top of her underwear pulling it aside to expose a fluff of hair. With a smirk she let the elastic go, allowing it to snap back. This seemed to bring Wambui back to her senses but the sliding of Amina’s hand over her soft stomach soon overwhelmed her. She slid her hand up and under Wambui’s shirt and could feel her nipples which were swollen with longing. Wambui moaned under her caress. Amina looked over at us and winked mouthing to Mpho ‘told you’.
Only then did I realise how close my girlfriend had gotten to me, sitting behind me, the four of us now on the three-seater couch that formed the focus of our sitting room. Her hand caressed my thigh but her eyes never left the scene before us. Amina continued to play with Wambui’s nipples. The pleasure rising in her mirrored how increasingly horny I was becoming between the expert touch of my girlfriend ,who had now moved to stroking me ever so lightly through my underwear, and the seeming control Amina had over the woman laid out like a dish before her.
Amina withdrew her hands from beneath Wambui’s shirt and pulled her willing form onto the floor. Amina begun to kiss her as Wambui rested back against the bottom of the couch. She whispered something inaudible into her ear and Wambui barely managed a strained ‘yes’ pulling Amina onto her. Amina pulled back and slowly peeled of Wambui’s underwear releasing the scent of the woman into the room.
‘Intoxicating isn’t it?’ The syrup of Mpho’s voice dripped into my ear filling my mind with images of her making love to me. Reading my mind she kissed me whilst moving the cotton from my underwear aside allowing her fingers to dance in my wetness causing me to attempt to catch my breath. Her mouth covered mine again. I could feel myself being watched and I turned to see Amina’s eyes on what my girlfriend’s hands were doing to me. With a fluid movement Amina slid the top off Wambui exposing the expanse of chocolate skin on her back. Exposing skin that was aching to be touched.
I reached over and ran my nails down Wambui’s back careful not to stray too far from the pleasure my woman was giving me. Her back arched to my touch and I wanted to explore further. With complete disregard for the laws of physics I reached over further trying to cup her breast, nearly falling off the couch. ‘Careful angel’ my lover said gripping my hips with one hand and finally entering me with the other. ‘Oh God’ I sighed and gripped Wambui’s breast harder. She whimpered in pain and covered my hand with hers forcing it to squeeze harder.
A perfect synchronisation of pleasure flowed from one set of fingers through the two of us to the other and back. Amina then entered Wambui sliding her fingers, in and out of her hungry pussy. She inserted one finger, then two, then three causing Wambui to attempt to lift her hips to meet the enticing fingers.
‘Deeper’ she whispered biting her lip. The sound of her voice made me want to kiss the source and my lips met her neck. She moaned and pulled my head closer. By this time I was on my knees on the couch. Wambui’s growls were punctuated by Amina saying to Mpho, ‘You should take off your woman’s underwear, you can’t be doing her properly with her panties in the way.’ Mpho smirked at this comment and proceeded to pull my underwear down over my thighs giving her a full view of my ass which she stroked appreciatively. Attempting to spread my thighs and finding the cloth to be a restraint my lover reached for the discarded steak knife on the table cut the thinnest part on both sides. With one tug she discarded my underwear onto the floor. My thighs glistened with moisture as I continued to become increasingly turned on by all that was happening. Amina following a path of kisses down Wambui’s body before burying her head between my friend’s thighs. This caused Wambui to pull on Amina’s dreadlocks in ecstasy. Wambui pulled Amina’s hair free from its pony tail and ran her hands through it, pulling Amina’s head as if attempting to drown her in the river that flowed from between her legs.
My girlfriend penetrated me faster and my hands moved from Wambui’s body to grip the seat as I felt the orgasm grip me like a vice, caging both my body and mind. At that moment Amina brought Wambui to orgasm causing her to scream out in a mixture between Kikuyu, Kiswahili and something somewhat incomprehensible. Her body slumped against the couch as Amina licked the cum from Wambui’s thighs, Wambui’s pussy and her own fingers. Her lips brushed Wambui’s and she announced to the room in general ‘that was delicious’. Mpho agreed replying ‘these women are divine aren’t they? Drinks ladies?’
Mpho and Amina went to the kitchen and the sound of clinking glasses was heard. Not a sound came from us as both of us as we remained unable to move. I looked over at Wambui, as her exposed breasts rose and fell under her laboured breath.
‘Kagure what the hell just happened?’
‘Ndiui, I really don’t know.’
‘That was so amazing. I have not come like that since…wow. I’m now even sober. That was…’
‘…insane’ I said finishing her sentence.
We remained sprawled over the couch not bothering to cover ourselves. Amina and Mpho returned with our drinks coaxed us with feather light touches to accept the drinks they gave us. ‘Did you ladies enjoy yourselves?’ Amina asked with a smile that showed she knew the answer very well. Mpho sat on the edge of the seat stroking and squeezing my exposed flesh. My skin was still sensitive, a feeling that was offset by the decadence of the wine we drank. Amina positioned herself between Wambui’s thighs stroking her stomach, caressing her breasts and coaxing her nipples to hardened peaks. Mpho and Amina continued conversation as if oblivious to the effect had just had on us. As if they did not know they had not taken us to the brink of ecstasy, allowed us to drop over and were now causing us to again begin the descent. And the night continued much in this manner till the sun came up.
Weeks later Wambui and I met for a drink and after the third round the topic of what had happened that night came up. ‘So now I’m a lesbian ama?’ I laughed at this.
‘Do you feel like a lesbian?’ I asked.
She thought for a minute and replied, ‘No not really’. She fell into a contemplative silence. ‘So is that what you and Mpho do all the time? Just invite people and cause them to wake the neighbours with screams?’
‘No! That was a shocker even to me.’ I retorted. ‘Being with a woman isn’t about insane sex and threesomes…’
‘Foursoumes.’ she corrected. ‘My gosh did I enjoy that. That woman really knows how to…’ she lapsed into a thoughtful silence.
I savoured my wine whilst she savoured her memory.
‘So when am I next coming for dinner?’ Her question broke the silence. ‘And is Amina going to be there?’