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The Shadowed Stranger
by Omofineboy
This was one of my close friends. He was a banker and a thrifty one. He loved money too much. He could spare money if it was for clubbing with girls and other friends living on the fast lane. But ask him a dime, he would swear on is dead mother’s grave that he was in the red.
I was sitting in a small restaurant having finished eating lunch of rice and fried plantain. I realized that a guy at the other end of the room was scrutinizing me with barely concealed interest. He had a fixed smile n his face. I grinned and got up, paid for lunch and left. “Hello, excuse me,” I heard a male voice. I turned around and it was the shadowed stranger.
He was of an average height and slim. He had a trusting kind of face with some stubble. He looked to be in his twenties.I raised my eye brows eloquently, my expression deliberately unreadable. “I couldn’t help overhearing your distress call and my conscience would not let me rest till I offered my assistance,” he said in a kind voice. Holy cow. In this day and age, angels existed? “Are you offering to lend me some money then?” I asked, quite taken aback. “That’s right,” he answered laconically. “I am sorry but I can’t accept your charity,” I said with equanimity. “And why not?” He inquired. “I don’t know you dude. Besides, I didn’t even ask you for help,” I said pointedly. “Then, you can know me. My name is Mathew and I live at Galway 2. I am a business man and unmarried. I am twenty six years old and originally from Mombassa,”he supplied cheekily.
I laughed in spite of the ludicrous situation. “Well, Mathew from Mombassa, I am Bright and originally from Accra. I am a waiter,” I replied. “So, we now know each other. Care for a drink? There is a pub somewhere at the corner. We could get to know each other even better.”
I weighed my options. I was off for the day, so why not. I accepted his invitation. Few minutes later, we sat at the far end of a pub. The pub was filled with football enthusiast. It was smoked filled and reeking with different smells of men, women, assorted alcohol and cigarettes.
We chatted for awhile on sundry issues. Then along the way he asked if I would consider his offer. I was still reluctant but I needed a phone. “Ok, assuming I accept, what’s the catch? Any collateral? Because I don’t have any.”
He laughed in a rich, mellifluous voice. He should be a musician. “No catch. I like you and I don’t have friends around,” he said simply, lighting a cigarette. He offered me a stick, I declined. He shrugged his shoulders. “Are you willing to be my friend? “Obviously. Otherwise I would not have accepted your invitation for a drink.” Ok.Well, I will invite you further to my apartment for a night cap if you still have the time, then I will give you the cash,” he said. “I have never been to Galway 2, I am still new around here,” I sad. “It is not far. Just five minutes of a taxi drive.”
He paid up and we left.
He hailed a cab and we were in his well furnished apartment in less than ten minutes. I was impressed with his taste. The apartment had all the trimmings of a rich bachelor. Great leather chairs, beautiful paintings, antique knick knacks, modern electronics and a big flat screen TV. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he smiled, seeing that I didn’t hide the fact that I was impressed. humble abode indeed. If only he could see my dingy apartment!I was reluctant to step on his pristine white Persian rug. He went into the bar and brought a decanter with two glasses. “I love bourbon but if you prefer tequila or – ” “Bourbon is fine,” I said airily. I never tasted the stuff but I would want him to think I was from the sticks.
An hour letter, I was beyond tipsy. Whatever e said, I would just laugh. “You seem very happy. You are giving fun?He asked unecesaarily. “I am, dude!”
He came and sat beside me. He pulled out hiss wallet and counted some note. “I bet this can take care of you phone problem. It can even get you an iPhone,” he said in a jocular note. I sobered up immediately. “Thank you so much. I owe you a lot.Whatever you need, let me know,” I took a sip of my tongue burning drink “Can I kiss you?” “Wha - What?”I spluttered, spilling the drink and coughed. “Can I kiss you? ”He repeated. His eyes were hooded. “Hell, no. Is this some kind of joke?” I sprang on my feet. He stood up too, our eyes leveled. The tension was tangible. A sixth sense urged me to drop his money and bold out but my feet were like stamped on the rug. He moved closer, my nostril flared. I could feel his breath on my face. His arms shot out and drew me to him. “I want you so much and I know you want me too,” he said in a husky voice. My heart raced like it was being chased. I felt like punching him in the face but my body seemed to be waiting in anticipating.
In a measured move, his lips, wet and sensuous, gently closed on mine. He gave me a perfunctory kiss. He looked in my eyes. He touched my cheeks. He kissed me again. This time with more vim and vigor. I wrapped my arms around him and returned his kiss with the same ferocity. Our groins jammed. My heavy manhood burned and my body was also on fire. We tore our clothes and next thing, I was fucking the living daylights out of him. He screamed as I impaled him with my ramrod stiff black African dick over and over again. His hole was juicy and tight. We were on a missionary position so he spread his legs wide, giving me access.
I had never fucked a man before but this was sweeter than the pussies I had fucked. It was as if his man hole was breathing. I kept on ramming it in like a mad man till I hit the hilt. His groans and moans of pleasure heightened my own pleasure and I could not help myself. I spurted my seed deep into him. I kept o going till the last drop was safely deposited into him. As I was withdrawing, his cum gushed out in great globs.
He stood up with a self satisfying grin and entered the bathroom to clean himself. I hurriedly dressed up and sped out of the room.
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