Weekend Special

Warning: Explicit content

Picture from www.lifehacker.com

“God damn it!” I shout at the copy machine; it always gives me grief. I inspect the control panel and there are two flashing lights, one indicating the problem is inside the machine and the other I don’t know. I curse the bloody thing. I quickly turn around, I know that there’s someone behind me, the scent is familiar. it’s Sheefeni, my favorite colleague. His cologne is a distinct spicy and musky scent, strong and delightful, it sets him apart from the rest.

 “Hi,” He strides into the copy room with papers in his hand, the space is no larger than a bathroom.

“Hey,” I smile at him, I breathe a sigh of relief, because I know that he can fix the problem. Some things are known around the school: Sheefeni fixes all the printers, and the copiers, he whispers to them. If we had a fax machine, then he would probably fix it as well.

He stands next to me and my eyes indulge themselves, not only does he smell good. He is also a well put together man, he wears clothes that fit. His slim fit shirt hugs his body, making me wonder exactly what his chest looks like in real life. 

“Let’s see, shall we?” Sheefeni says, his deep bass resonating around the room. I stepped aside and let him work, he kneels and opens the machine, I hear a ripping sound and seconds later he stands with two sheets of paper in his hand.

“Paper Jam,” He exclaims. I smile and he smiles back at me, we stare at each other as the copy machine spews out copy after copy.

“Your dress.”

“What about it?” I ask.

“It does amazing things for your thighs.”

“I know.” I pause, sizing him up. “You’re going to make me blush.” I can feel my cheeks warm up.

A smirk spreads across his face, “Black girls don’t blush, but that’s the idea.”

We both forget the copy machine; all I can think about is how his chinos hint at a pair of really toned thighs. I can tell my yellow dress has done the trick because he’s biting his lower lip. The flirting at the copy machine is nothing new, it’s our thing, like our personal sport. But, I can tell that today, we both are willing to risk it all.

The bell rings and snaps us both out of our lustful trances. I pick up my copies and as I walk past him, I make a point of brushing my ass against his hip. I look back at him as he starts on his own copies. Nothing accentuates a man’s behind like a well fit pair of chinos. I swallow, hard, I am already halfway to moistening myself. How am I going to make it through this day?

Sheefeni has been my lifesaver since I arrived at Onguari high school 6 months ago. I guess I gravitated towards him because; (a) he is weird, and (b) he genuinely cares about the kids – all of them, even the ones who don’t want to be in school.  Sheefeni showed me around the day I arrived and had been the one colleague I always ran to. Onguari high school is like any other rural government school; overcrowded, understaffed, and in need of a complete makeover. Somehow, outnumbered and overwhelmed by over 800 kids with weird and unique personalities, we have both survived. 

Later that morning. I walk in, actually, I burst into Sheefeni’s classroom, and all the kids look at me. He’s in the middle of a sentence. 

“Are we together?” He asks the class and they shout back in unison. “Yes Sir!”

He leans in and gives me his ear, I get an up close view of his clean shaven face and his impeccable faded cut, it’s like his barber has a PhD in hair grooming. Eye candy for days.

“Can I borrow your stapler?” I ask. He reaches into the drawer in his desk and places the stapler into my hand. “Making progress?”

He cocks his head to the side and sighs, “Progress is indeed a slow process, this is the third time I’m teaching these kids how to add fractions.”

“I’ll bring it back once I’m done hey, and thanks, you’re my lifesaver.”

He nods. “You’re welcome.”

Later that day I’m sitting in the staff room, it’s 15h00 and I’m the only one left at school. The rest either went AWOL at break or left before the bell even rang. My phone vibrates, I pick it up, swipe across and read the WhatsApp message.  It’s from my friend Mamie. 

“Where are you? We’re at Ozzie’s place.”

I type a long reply about how busy I am and the backlog of work I have, after lighting quick contemplation, I delete it and reply with a question, “Who is we?”

 

“Are you cuming?” Mamie asks. 

I respond, with a slew of emoji’s and some provocative text, “Cuming? Not right now, maybe later tonight. But, I’m definitely coming.”

She sends back a confused emoji. I need a friend who understands innuendo.

Ozzie’s place is the only decent place for educated working professionals in Onguari. A place where you can get a cold beer and a pizza, instead of unwanted attention from farmhands who fantasize about role playing the naughty boy and the hot female teacher, with a real female teacher.  The thing with Onguari is that with the provision of 3D mobile network, it’s not backward enough to be a village anymore, but it’s not advanced enough to be a town yet. You’re as likely to bump into a car being driven on the wrong side of the road, as you are a cow that refuses to yield right of way. 

I arrived at Ozzie’s 20 minutes later and Mamie screams like she’s seen a giant arachnid. She grabs me and smothers me, holding me close enough for the fragrance of cider and pizza to permeate my nostrils. I can tell there are new people in town from the unrecognizable faces at the table. I look around and there are no chairs, Sheefeni pats his thigh and motions for me to sit on his lap, an offer I would never refuse.

Pizza and beer after a long day of dealing with children, some who can neither count nor spell goes down really well, so does having Sheefeni’s lap for a chair. The new people turn out to be Sheefeni’s friends from Windhoek. They fade into the background quickly, Sheefeni puts a hand on the small of my back and when everyone else isn’t looking gently rubs my booty as I feed him pizza.

We stayed at Ozzie’s until around 20h00 when the howling wind outside and the limited space inside forced us to look for alternative party venues. We ended up at Sheefeni’s place, I’d been inside a few times, but he had changed things around, as much as a one-bedroom house with a kitchen as small as a toilet next to the actual toilet could allow. Mamie was giggling and getting more than comfortable with one of Sheefeni’s friend, a guy with a scar on his right cheek called Scorpion, just Mamie’s type: Bad boys. Scorpion and Sheefeni went to the kitchen to fix drinks and gave Mamie and I a chance to talk.

“Are you feeling that guy? He’s creepy.” I said.

Mamie shook her head, “Friend, you need to live a little.”

I shrugged. Mamie leaned in to whisper into my ear, “I’m going to take Scorpion back to my place.” She winked at me, “That will give you and Sheefeni the chance to get to know each other.” 

“We already know each other.” I blurted out, “You are seriously thinking about sleeping with that guy? You just met him.”

She shook her head again, “Friend, he’s just a weekend special.”

Scorpion came back with four shots of whiskey, we all picked up a shot and downed them. It burned, briefly setting my throat on fire, but as Scorpion and Mamie left, the fire was slowly moving lower.

We talked for what seemed like forever, about kids; I didn’t want any and he already had his hand full with his siblings’ kids, his own would have to wait. We talked about culture, and tribalism, and crude jokes. After we ran out of things to talk about, it became evident that the sexual tension was building. He went to the kitchen and came back with two more shots, the whiskey burned, it warmed my chest just as fast as it was warming up between my legs. 

When they say things happen really fast, they mean that one minute we were talking about pets and the next thing you know, I’m lying in my crush’s bed. Bare, expect for my panties, with his fingers slowly stirring the volcano inside me. I was building up slowly to what would have been an earth shattering orgasm, when a knock on the door snapped us back to reality. Two quick taps, and a pull of the door handle had us scurrying, his friend was back. I could hear Mamie’s voice as well.

He sighed in frustration, “They have really bad timing.” I concurred as he helped me locate my dress, we quickly put our clothes back on – the ones we could find. In our rush to fuck each other’s brain out, I had lost my bra in the rapid dishabille. I had given up on it, but when he straightened a pillow, there it was, I had already put my dress on so I threw it into my handbag. I sat on the couch, trying to look innocent while pulling my hair back into a bun. I heard Sheefeni turn the key and open the door, he cursed, “Fucking great, the idiot is driving away.” 

He walked back into the bedroom, he stood before me, tall and handsome – I squeezed my legs together as a combination of heat and moisture soaked my panties. I was wet and horny, I wanted him bad.

“What now?” I asked. The anticipation building up inside me.

“Let’s finished what we started.” He flashed that smile and a naughty wink at me, and just like that my self-control betrayed me. I literally jumped him, gabbing him by the shirt and pressing my lips hungrily onto his. I felt his hands squeeze my breast, the other came crashing down onto my ass. I jumped a bit, I was surprised at the audacity.

“Did you just spank me?” I pulled his shirt up and over his head, revealing the chest I had been waiting so long to feel. Firm and muscled.

he replied as he unzipped my dress. “I did. Do you want more?” A soft moan escaped my lips, I was so turned on, my body was aching.

He licked his lips and peeled me out of my dress. I could tell he was eager, by how quickly he slipped my panties down my thighs to my ankles, I stepped out of them. He clenched them in his hand and took a whiff.

“Hmmm,” he groaned, “I hope you taste as good as you smell.”

He knelt before me, looked up and smiled, I knew I was in for a treat. The man proceeded to eat me out, like I have never been devoured before, he ate my pussy like it was a delicacy. He was slow, methodical, his every touch, every lick of his tongue, I was struggling between breathing and moaning. He did this swirling movement with his tongue that made my knees buckle, my legs gave way, and if he hadn’t caught me, I would have tumbled over onto him. It was intense. 

My body ached, I was ready. I pulled him, kissed him and demanded.

“Enough teasing, take me to the bed and make me scream your name.”

He picked me up, a feat most men failed to achieve, he slowly lay me down on the bed, pulled of his shorts and boxers and inched up the bed to get on top of me. 

“Get a condom.” I instructed.

He reached over to his wardrobe pulled a drawer open and came out with a condom, I watched him rip the grey foil open and I slid it slowly onto his dick. I felt him twitch in my hands.  I was finally going to get what I wanted.

END.