Still tracing circles on the back of her hand, my other hand reached under the table and inched up her thigh into the crevice.
There was nothing to pause the inspection. Erika was commando and down there was pure Movado desert.
We did not wait for our food and we did not even pay for the drinks as I took Erika by the hand and we went up to her room.
We were kissing from the door, Erika panting and moaning like she hadn’t been near a man in years.
I took off that blue top to find frilly black bra from underneath which I could see the pink tips of her nipples.
I kissed her ears, her neck and then reaching a finger behind her, undid the clasp of her bra with one swift flick.
Erika had breasts as beautiful as she was and I took, first, one nipple and then the other in between my lips, my tongue flicking over them like a snake even as my right hand undid her skirt and suddenly this beautiful South African woman was standing there in the dim light of dusk, naked, her body a geography of curves.
I let her undress me, then watched as she dropped on her knees and blessed my whatchamacallit with her beautiful lips and tongue.
She would have gone on and on, licking and sucking and tugging if I had let her, but I picked her up, lay her on the bed, parted her legs and flicked a tongue over her petals.
She said something in her language as she jacked her pubis into my face. I held her steady as tongue went over tongue then as her thighs began to shake, she pulled my head up and kissed me, then turning around, she went down on all fours and bid me come.
Then we were dancing and gyrating and in my head was just one line – So this is how South Africa tastes!
