Parasite Sex

Our hitchhiking journey somehow turned into us making all meals and paying for petrol, so I suppose paid-hitchhiking journey is a better name. Another few 100 kms south and we arrived to the beautiful ‘beach’ of Cape Maclear. There isn’t actually an ocean in Malawi, as it is a land locked country, but the lake is 580kms long, is tidal and has friggin waves. Excitingly, being a Friday and a long weekend, the place was packed with NGO workers and volunteers having a weekend away.

After preparing another dinner we bid Bob goodbye and headed to Gechos, apparently the most poppin’ bar on the beach. We were settling into our $1 beers when we spotted Red Breast and the Israelis. I noticed a sultry looking beast of a man observing the dance floor whilst chain smoking. I liked his face, his height, and his seemingly hard to get attitude. The only question was, the 15 girls that kept popping up by his side, competition? Bring it.

I caught him on his next trip to the bar. He was a Dutchy having a weekend away from his placement in the capital, Lilongwe. I asked about his many lady friends, he said they were also from the placement and he was the only boy. Ahhhh I thought, makes sense, they are simply asserting ownership over their one and only hot babe. Right on cue, they cut into our conversation switching to Dutch and leaving me standing like an English only loser. He said he would be back and disappeared with the cock-blockers. I sulked back to the D-floor and lamented to my girls that I’d been cock-blocked. I moseyed on, sure that he wasn’t returning, when 30 minutes later I felt a strong tap on my shoulder.

Turned out the cock block girls needed to be walked home. From my point of view they had him under their sneaky little thumbs and were trying to get him away from me. But he was back. I asked what he wanted to do, seeing as he didn’t dance, what do you mean he said as hegrabbed my waist in a tango like grasp. The Dutchman twirled me around the dance floor in a hilarious, slightly embarrassing way, then turned my back towards him and grinned his dick into my rear until I was positively wet. I told him how horny he’d made me and he gleefully replied, let’s go.

We made our way down the beach and found a spot on the sand, like with the Frenchman, I was instantly jumped, only this time it was ALL about me. He fingered me and cheekily ate me out, shorts on. Fearful of the exhibitionism, though not as fearful as in Zanzibar, we moved to the sex inviting shadows. Feeling more secluded, I stripped him of his pants and started sucking on his lovely large Dutch cock. While I was pulling out my best penis playing party tricks, he scooped me to my feet right in time to save our dignity from being illuminated by a passing security guard’s flashlight.

We were caught between a lake and a horny place, with the security guard gone, Dutchman suggested, should we go in? Fuckin why not. We ditched our clothes and streaked into the lake, and there began the hottest submerged sex I have ever had. He was so big he could hold me up in the water and slam me from behind. With no bedhead to grasp onto, my hands flailed out in front of me doing some kind of deranged doggy paddle.

I should mention Lake Malawi is home to a parasite called Bilharzia, I wonder if getting rammed in the lake increases your chances of catching it?

We finished up, clothed ourselves, and before parting he asked if I was around for the rest of the weekend, yes I certainly was.

Red Breast and the Israelis joined our girl tribe and we spent the day paddling the islands. I saw the Dutchman back on land and we talked briefly about meeting at Gechos again that evening.

Evening came around and this time it seemed Gechos wasn’t the place to be. It was completely empty and I began to curse myself for not having asked the Dutchman’s number. Meanwhile, Zimbabawia had re-found her muscly man from the night before, Arnold – actually his name. The tribe plus Arnold dutifully accompanied me, moving from venue to venue in a desperate attempt to find the Dutchman for a re-run.

I can tell you – it is utterly infuriating when there’s a good fuck on an island and you cannot find it!

The evening wore on and I could no longer selfishly keep Arnold from getting Zimbabawia on her back, after all, they’d hired out their own hostel room. At least one of us finished the night with a dick.

The next morning I woke up feeling motivated. We were departing that day and I WAS going to find the Dutchman and get my brains re-banged out. I asked Bob when to be ready, at noon. Shit, only two hours. I raced down the beach towards where I’d seen him last, and as I approached his place someone jumped off the deck and came running towards me – the Dutchman. I acted cool as a cucumber, oh heyyy fancy seeing you here, I was just about to go standup paddle boarding, wanna come with me? Yep!

While filling out the board hire forms I spied on him writing 1995, 23 years old, not too bad. Whilst paddling to the island he told me that he’d been looking for me all the previous night, frustrated at not getting my number, he’d trolled tinder and Facebook hoping to find me. Oh the flattery!

We reached the island and realised we were entirely alone. Jumping off the boards and into the water we started getting wet n heavy. Conscious of possible tour boats arriving, we clambered into the jungle, found a big rock, and I sat upon his cock. Being on a hard surface allowed him to go deeper, which I wouldn’t have believed possible. I screamed in ecstasy, just as I imagine Jane would have when she first fucked Tarzan in the jungle. Whilst doing it, because the secluded island sex wasn’t ridiculous enough already, a couple of monkeys swung about overhead.

Looking at the sun for a clock I determined it was time to vamos and as quickly as possible we paddled back to the mainland. On the journey I brought up him being 23 and he sheepishly replied, I’m not 23. Oh 24? No…younger. How much younger? 19. HUH, but I saw your date of birth? Yeah I saw that you were older and was afraid you wouldn’t be into me if you knew I was young, so I lied.

Silly bugger, no need to lie, apparently I like 19 year olds now.

He walked me to the overlander, got my number, and wished me farewell.

In my absence it had been arranged that Red Breast would join our paid-hitchhiking journey, and so, four Aussies and one South African Bob hit the road again.

Fuck yeah to decent water sex.

Have you had it? I’d love to hear about it!

(To remain anonymous, you can make up your own dirty little sex name)

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