Nairobi
Keywords: Nairobi,
1 2 3 Next
If you"ve been reading my stuff, you might remember that after my divorce from wife number one, I headed to Florida to join my buddy in the boat-building business. At that time, I had never enjoyed the pleasures of a gender-bending girl. I was as straight and vanilla as any guy could be. That changed pretty quickly once I got to Miami. Here"s one episode in that change.
I had been renting an apartment for about a year when I decided to buy a condo. I looked every weekend and finally found what I wanted at a small, stylish complex near the beach. I made an offer and a month later I moved in. My neighbors in the complex were great - - mainly younger and single, quiet, friendly. I"d been in the new condo for a couple of months when on returning from work early one afternoon I noticed some movers humping stuff into the unit down the hall.
A couple of days later as I left early in the morning for my usual jog, I bumped into my new neighbor. He had just stepped out into the hall in search of his morning paper. He was about five and half feet tall and very dark black. He was slender, with a shaved head, and, because he was wearing only a pair of gym shorts, I noticed he had totally smooth legs, chest, arms, etc.
As I closed my door, he looked up and greeted me with a big, toothy smile and sparkling green eyes. We exchanged good mornings, and I ambled over to shake hands. At six and half feet tall, I towered over the guy. He probably weighed less than half of what I do. I grasped his hand and he gave me a limp squeeze.
"Hi," I said. "I"m Jim. Welcome neighbor."
"Hello, Jim" he answered in a smooth French-inflected accent. "I"m Jean. Thanks."
I turned to go.
"Say, Jim," I heard Jean ask. "Have you seen my morning paper?"
I laughed.
"Best bet is over there under the azaleas. The paperboy must be a southpaw."
Jean laughed and bent over to search under the bushes. I left for my jog.
I didn"t see Jean for a week or so but I did see his girlfriend a couple of days after our first neighborly meeting. I was getting home late from work and was unlocking my door when I heard Jean"s door open. I looked over and froze. Coming out of my neighbor"s front door was the sexiest woman I"d seen in long time. She was about Jean"s height with tight dreadlocks down to her shoulders. Her short, tight skirt revealed long, slim but muscular legs that ended in a pair of high heels. She wore a white halter top that underscored her lustrous ebony skin. She wore a bunch of silver bracelets on one arm and a thin gold chain ran around her neck.
She turned and our eyes met. I could sense some kind of hesitation so I broke the ice.
"Hey," I said. "How you doing?"
The woman broke into a broad smile.
"I"m fine, thanks," she said in a sweet voice made melodious by her French or Haitian accent.
She leaned over to lock her door, keeping an eye on me over her shoulder. As I stood there, she walked over, swaying gently on her high heels. What a smile, I thought to myself.
"Er . . ." I mumbled. "I haven"t seen Jean lately. How"s he doing?"
"He"s fine," the woman answered, extending her hand towards me. "I"m Jean"s friend, Nairobi. You must be Jim."
I smiled and took her hand gently in mine. She squeezed my hand but didn"t seem to want to let go.
"Jean told me he had a good-looking neighbor, but now I can see he wasn"t lying."
I laughed nervously.
"Tell me, Jim," Nairobi continued. I could smell her jasmine-scented perfume. "Are you married?"
Nairobi giggled and, to be honest, so fresh off my divorce, I wasn"t used to such up-front behavior from ladies as young and cute as Nairobi.
"Divorced," I answered.
"So," Nairobi said, withdrawing her hand from mine. "You"re in the market, as we say."
I laughed.
"I guess you could say that."
Nairobi laughed again.
"Ciao, Jim," she said playfully as she turned to head to the parking lot.
"Yeah," I mumbled again, overwhelmed by the waves of sensuality she exuded. "Ciao, Nairobi."
Needless to say, after dinner and a quick visit to the gym, I masturbated in the shower later that night as I recalled Nairobi"s smooth, dark skin and bright smile.
A couple of days later, I bumped into Jean in the hallway. I really wanted to find out more about Nairobi, so I invited him over to watch a football game. Jean laughed. He told me he wasn"t really into football. Shit, I thought to myself. Jean, however, quickly invited me over to his place for dinner. I just as quickly agreed.
A couple of days later, I was ringing Jean"s doorbell and hoping, secretly, that Nairobi might also be on the guest list. Jean answered the door dressed in a pair of tight, short cut-off jeans and a tank top. We shook hands and he led me into his condo. Wow. What a difference. My place was decorated in 100% "recently-divorced-single-male" style. Jean"s was the opposite end of the scale - - with nice, stylish furniture, low lighting, beautiful paintings and tapestries on the wall. His condo smelled better too, with a scent that reminded me of Nairobi"s jasmine perfume.
He led me to his couch and offered me a beer. We sat around for a half hour or so making chit chat. Jean was Haitian. He"d arrived in Miami on a student visa a couple of years before but had quickly set out to create his own business - - establishing a cosmetics supply house that, evidently, was very successful. Jean was very soft spoken and as we chatted, I started to pick up an unsettling vibe from his green eyes, his movements, and his soft touches on my arms and shoulders. Crap, I started thinking, I"m trapped here with a gay guy when I all I really want is to hit it off with Nairobi.
Jean had made dinner - - a delicious Haitian fish dish - - and we ate and drank wine. Finally, I had to broach my real reason for accepting his invite.
"Jean," I said during a pause in the conversation. "I met your friend Nairobi the other day."
Jean lit up with a big smile.
"Yes, she told me" he answered. "What did you think of her?"
I smiled. "She"s a very attractive girl," I said.
Jean"s smile got even brighter. "Really?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. "She"s gorgeous . . .but even more." I paused. "She"s got some kind of spark. I don"t know. Some kind of charm or energy or something that I really liked."
Jean was so happy at my words that he raised his hand to hide his smile.
"I don"t know what your relationship is with her," I continued. "But I"d really like to meet her again."
"Mon dieu," Jean said with a gasp. "Well, Jim. I know Nairobi very well and I know she"s just dying to meet you again."
I smiled. Yes!
"Would you like to meet her tonight?" Jean asked, his face positively glowing with pleasure.
"You bet," I answered enthusiastically.
"Bien," Jean said. "You wait here. I"ll go get her."
I thanked Jean, and he stood and moved through the condo to the bedroom. I thought he was going to use the bedroom phone to talk to Nairobi in privacy. I sat and drank my wine. Ten and then fifteen minutes passed. I stood and walked over to the condo verando and gazed down at the busy street below.
"Hold on, Jim," I heard Jean shout from the bedroom. "Nairobi is on her way over."
I pumped the air with my fists and, excited, began pacing back and forth in front of the veranda"s sliding glass doors.
A couple of minutes later, lost in my anticipation, I heard a soft, female voice coming from Jean"s dining room.
"Bonjour, Jim," Nairobi said.
I turned, and there she was. Her braids were longer now and she wore a bright red miniskirt and tight white, sleeveless blouse. Her eyes sparkled and her brightly lipsticked mouth spread in a wide grin.
"Nairobi," I whispered. "You look breathtaking."
She smiled and strode over to me. The scent of jasmine surrounded me. She shook my hand daintily and gestured toward the couch. We sat and Nairobi"s skirt rode higher up her legs, revealed her shapely dark chocolate thighs. As we sat, I looked toward the bedroom, expecting Jean to return.
"Where is Jean?" I asked Nairobi.
"Where do you think?" Nairobi whispered to me with a smile, grabbing both my hands.
I looked into her green eyes.
"What the fuck!" I whispered in surprise. "Jean? Is that you?"
Nairobi ducked her head to her shoulder shyly.
"Oh my god," I said loudly. "Holy shit."
Nairobi grasped my hands harder as I involuntarily tried to stand.
"Jim, Jim," Nairobi whispered. "Relax. I"m not going to eat you."
I felt a blush burn across my cheeks. Slowly, Nariobi or Jean pulled me back down to the couch.
"I"m sorry," I stuttered. "I"m just a little surprised."
Nairobi smiled and released my hands. She stood up.
"Don"t you like Nairobi," she whispered in a sultry voice, as she turned in a circle in front of me.
What could I say? Her legs were long and beautiful. Her ass was full and firm. Her smile was incandescent. And, when she threw her head to the side to throw her braids over her shoulder, I was captured.
"I like Nairobi, a lot," I said, my voice catching in my throat.
Nairobi smiled. "Of course you do," she said.
She turned and slinked over to the stereo. She pushed a button and a slow jazz tune flooded the room.
"Come," Nairobi whispered, holding her hands out. "Come and dance with Nairobi."
I stood up as in a dream, unsure what I was doing but drawn irresistibly toward this gorgeous dark-skinned woman swaying gently in front of me. I walked over to her. She put her arms around my shoulder and pulled my hands onto her hips. We stood there swaying together for a couple of minutes staring into each others" eyes.
Nairobi gulped once or twice and her nostrils flared. I looked down at her tight body and her hips rolling back and forth to the music. I looked into her eyes. She pulled my head down and our lips met in a slow, sensuous kiss. As I tightened my arms around her waist, pulling her tight to me, I heard her moan. I pushed my tongue into her mouth, and she moaned again. Our tongues met and began a slow, languorous dance together. Her mouth was wet and warm. I felt my cock start to crawl down my jeans.
1 2 3 Next
Keywords: Nairobi,