Sex In A Taxi

WARNING: Explicit Content, Reader Discretion Is Advised

I was in Kigali Rwanda for two days this week and the events that took place were more than I could have ever imagined. My rollickingly entertaining adventures left my bank account looking like Greece’s economy but it was all worth it.

I had never even thought of something as crazy as having sex in a taxi but a romp in a taxi in Rwanda with a long-legged beauty was a whole different ballgame. Morals had to be thrown out of the window. Any man would have to be a complete idiot to pass up such a unique form of coital bliss.

I had been invited to give a talk about blogging at the University Of Kigali. The realization that there were lots of people who regarded my work highly in Rwanda hit me with shades of surprise as it was flatter. I was quick to take advantage of the all expenses paid trip

While at the land of Kagame, I met Uwimana, a female reporter right after my main talk at the university’s main ballroom. She was s a tall girl-about six feet-and her hips, ass, and legs had an attractive fullness to them. Her eyes had such a deep, mysterious hazel that could make a grown man weep. Shades of brown, green and blue collided in those eyes, tiny pinpoints of color that, up close, were almost mesmerizing. I had fallen for her before she parted a lips to cough up a noun

“I just need to ask you a few questions Sir.” she had said in a polite, calm but assertive manner. Her English was okay but i could hear traces of her tribal accent between complex phrases. Her multi-colored pretty nails were dug into the sides of her notebook ready to document details about me.

“Aren’t we going to sit somewhere?” I asked.

“Oh sorry. We can sit at the cafeteria nearby. I can buy you coffee while you tell me more about your career.” She quickly answered.

I suggested a sit down because Uwimana was a kind of pretty I had never seen before. I had to get to know her better. I soon learnt that her name meant God’s daughter. How fitting.

As the clock ticked on, we delved into several matters before the conversation finally centered on where I wanted it to - sex.

She asked why I loved writing about sex and I gave her plenty of articulate but meaningless explanations. She seemed content though.

As the conversation matured from official to flirtatious, a kindred sensibility developed between us. She was intrigued by the fact that I wasn’t intimidated by her height. Many men were, but I’ve known how to deal with tall women ever since puberty struck

I was confident she was not going to post anything unduly revealing about my behavior. My mission was to ask for a "back rub" after all this yippy yappy was over.

There was a looming setback though. Umiwana said she never ever got into bed with celebrities because celebrity sex is disgusting

“But I am not a celebrity”, I defended myself

“Oh yes you are”, she insisted. “You are probably more famous here than you are in your own country. I haven’t seen an English speaker in this country who doesn’t read your work.”

“Wow” I responded with a smile. Those words had heated up my heart like an Samsung microwave

“I know I am good looking and every male celebrity I try to interview always tries to hit on me but I’ve always said "no.". Usually with a smile, occasionally with an eye-roll if it’s some D-list douchebag getting really crass. “

Another guy would have concluded that there was no freaking way he was going to sleep with this girl after such words of armor but I sniffed a chance. Why else was she talking to me about bedroom affairs without being asked? Perhaps her fruit was aching to be plucked. .

.She went on to rant on how celebrity sex was always impersonal, usually degrading and there was no ride home the next morning. A woman would have to bear the embarrassing walk of shame the next morning. And in Rwanda where a new internet craze is sweeping the entertainment industry, a woman would have her face plastered all over the shoddy blogs.

She didn’t stop vilifying celebrity sex. She went on and on………

A celebrity will let you know it's time for you to leave because he has to "run lines for this new project". Even though you programmed your number, email address, home address, and blood type into his smartphone, he's never going to call you. Why should he? He's going to get laid by someone else the next day. Maybe three or four someone else’s.

Her, tongue had been loosened, not by vodka, but my charm

After a few hours of deep talk, she informed me that her taxi was about to pick her up. She was scheduled for a late night shift and the media house she worked for didn’t have company cars. Taxis were contracted to transport employees from one location to the other.

I was sad at how events were suddenly beginning to swing against my favor but then my flame of hope was rekindled when she suggested we leave on the same taxi. She assured me that the driver would drop me at my hotel after dropping her at her workplace. He happened to be a friend of hers and all she had to do was talk to him.

We left the university campus together. Thirty minutes later, we arrived at her workplace and the cab sped into the parking lot. The driver, a bearded man probably in his thirties was super hungry so he informed me he was leaving to grab a meal at a nearby restaurant.

He asked Uwimana if she would keep me company for the few minutes he would be away. She gladly agreed. Of course she wanted to spend a little more time with me. You can always tell when you’ve impressed a girl

As soon as the cab guy was away, things between me and Uwimana escalated quickly. For the first few minutes, no words were spoken, just actions

I shifted in my seat, grimacing at the hard-on rising in my jeans. The more i looked at the large expanse of her thighs, the harder i was getting. That was a bad thing. Very bad. I had never had a problem separating lust from business, and only when completely necessary did the two overlap. It was damned hard to separate the two while i watched Uwimana though. And this was one of those situations. She was something else

I had heard of Rwandese beauty but in layman terms, ‘hers was just hers’. No competition. Her long, long dark hair lay like thick ribbons around her slender body, and the clothes she wore were sexy as hell. Seductive red, nearly sheer, the bodice snug beneath her breasts, causing them to spill above the low neckline. Soft, silky-looking chocolate flesh. A rosebud mouth. My manhood twitched hard at the sight of that mouth. It was rosy red and tempting as hell. A mouth like that could give a man more ecstasy than he had any right to

She moved closer to me without any invitation before drawing in a deep breath, her nostrils flaring. First, she gave me a brief kiss. Sweet Heaven, her lips were soft, tender, her mouth a warm, seductive cavern beckoning me. My hands gripped her wrists as my thick fingers formed claws..

I stared into her eyes, feeling the sweetness clear to the soles of my feet as my tongue licked at the residue of rosebud perfection she had left on my outer lips, tasting something delicate, addictive, feeling a heated madness building in my brain as hunger swelled inside me.

I moved my hands, forcing them from her grip so i could burrow into her natural hair where i could feel it silkiness, hold her in place and delve deeper into her mouth at the same time. My thumbs pressed against her jaw, controlling her sharp little teeth , forcing them open enough to thrust my tongue sharply inside her mouth.

God, i ached. My tongue throbbed at the taste of her, prodding at hers as i watched her lashes drift lower, watched her eyes darken.

Sweet, sweet honey filled my senses, tempted my taste buds. Damn she tasted good. Like summer. Innocence. Her breasts trembled with agitation. They swelled over the snug red bodice and silky fabric beneath. Firm, plump little globes with surprising hard, spiked nipples. My eyes narrowed on the obvious signs of arousal as my mouth watered for a taste of them.

Rwandese glory!!!! The driver could come back any moment, but we didn’t care

Reaching out, i allowed the backs of my fingers to smooth over the bared, upper curves of her globes. Her eyes swung back to me, wide, filled with anxiety and heat. The elastic fabric hooked beneath the firm mounds, lifting them higher, causing her sweet little nipples to point straight to the ceiling. The hard points were surprisingly engorged, aroused. This wasn’t fear. This was her body demanding relief.

As I kept on exploring, she bucked, her body bowing as the sexual flinch convulsed her tall curvy frame. She was supposed to be working by now, editing the interview she had conducted on me, but somehow she had the time to schedule a few evening orgasms before she did

Helpless mounting lust kept on riding me so hard, so fast, that i felt like I was drugged, out of control in the face of it. My mouth opened as i covered a trembling peak of her booby, drawing it in, sucking it fiercely into my mouth as i leaned over her. My tongue curled around it like wet velvet as she bucked against me, lifting closer, shoving her nipple tight and hard against my tongue as i began to feast on it as if it were a coastorial mango.

My manhood continued revolting. It wanted to be freed. It continued to shake in spasms of unending, agonizing arousal.

See Also: Etemesi's Tales | Sex On A Plane

“Damn you taste good.”, I muttered.

She didn’t say a word. She just twisted beneath me, her hips rising. Her body demanded more. Sex with a ‘celebrity’ wasn’t so taboo in her mind anymore. But I hadn’t introduced her to the real celebrity - My strong man down there.

She screamed for me, her head pressing back into the seat as she fought the overwhelming cascade of brutal pleasure.

More.

She needed more.

She couldn’t stand the building pressure, the incredible sexual hunger that seemed to rise from a dark, hidden part of her soul. Hunger was like a living being, gnawing at the very depths of her punani and sending flames to sear her magnificently textured skin

A fiery golden rush of sensation permeated her body, tingling over her flesh, electrifying her as I began undressing her. Why was I undressing her? This was her workplace and anyone could pass by any moment. If we were to do this, we were supposed to do it quickly, but I took my time. I wanted to enjoy every bit of her flesh. I wanted to digest her slowly, the way a python does to its pray.

A man doesn’t get a girl like Umiwana every day, so when you get one, you have to enjoy the moment. I felt like an Israelite who had just received mana from heaven. All this was happening so quickly

My hand moved from her head, flattening on her waist before smoothing to her thigh. She stilled, her lips parting as she gasped for air,She would have screamed with joy when my fingers grazed the crotch of her panties if my lips hadn’t covered hers again, my tongue pumping into her mouth as i suddenly ripped the panties, miniscule as they were, from her writhing body.

When my hand returned, she stilled, a cry reverberating from her vocal chords as the heat of my palm cupping her punani sent arcs of lightning flaring through her body. My head lifted slowly, my eyes narrowed on her, as I placed myself above her, ready to move my troops.

Other than the mewling moans that tore through her throat, the only sounds were the subtle smacks of flesh on flesh from my possessive strokes as she blabbered huskily in Cathedral-like tongues to her first orgasm. With her mouth agape and her face crimson red, she looked so vulnerable. I had conquered her. I had conquered Rwanda

“BOW DOWN TO THE KING OF RWANDA!!!”

And she did indeed bow down. After ‘coming’ she had kneeled down on me to say a prayer to my mighty shuma that had serviced her so well and suck it off too, but then I saw I the driver coming from afar. I notified her and we both dressed up within a split second. As soon as the driver arrived, he looked at us suspiciously but just smiled. Somehow, he knew that unholy acts had been committed in that vehicle.

As the taxi drove off and Uwimana waved at me goodbye. She was still trying to adjust her clothing in order not to raise any suspicion. strings of joy streamed through my veins. This had been intense. This had been different

For that reason I have to go back to Rwanda one day….i just have to… Unlike other ’celebrities’, i won't flee from her like El Chapo. I will call her back. .