Friday, March 12, 2010

Kenyan female ejaculation secrets

Some belive that it is only for the man to express the termination of his orgasm by shooting out floods of passion throug his virile member. To explode in a gush of warm and delicously fertile semen.
Then let me tell you a story about how I learned about the female love gush or ladylike sprinkle that many women can experience while making passionate and exquisite love, or having raw, lustful sex. Then, continue to further explore the techniques used for female ejaculation.

I had just set foot in Kenya, from the bustling coast airport of Mombasa, at first I was taken through winding roads through the hectic city, and further out west by my powerful host.

In a section of the land bordering one of the many spectacular nature reserves, I was fortunate to stay as aguest with a very hospitable and gentle party, embarrassingly wealthy in both riches and appearance.

She was in the deepest of skin-tones, a wonderful creamy dark chocolate, the skin glistening in the pouring sun, her lips wide, protruding, suculent, always perfectly humid, eyes awake, full of life, high cheekbones giving an air of superiority and pride. Long neck, a full and very inviting busom, hiding behind one of the many exclusive designer dress from her wardrobe. Her husband was a good match, at tall, handsome man, with delicate moves, a scholar, and business man, always in a tailor-made suit.

I could never really tell what age they were, perhaps in their forties, so youthful in mind and spririt. Always playing, hugging eachother, kissing in the corner of the mouth, stealing a clandestine caress, squeezing and pinching when they thought themselves unseen.

After a week full of all excursions into the bewildering Kenyan landscape and the waves of the warm Indian Ocean, it so happened that the man of the house had to leave for the week-end, urgent business in a neighbouring country. Before he left, at Friday breakfast he took my hand and said, ”thank you for this week, it has been a fantastic experience, I hope I will make it back before you leave”, and added, looking me straight into the eyes, ”and I hope you will take care of my lady while I am gone, in any way she desires, she can be very demanding at times”, and gave a little nod as he squeezed my hand, and let go.

This left me alone with this Keynian beauty. She invited me to go with her to their cottage on the sea, and her driver left us in in front of the family get-away. It was an enchanting building, that from the outside looked like a hut in a material that to me looked like bamboo. However, it had a very stylish interior. Most striking was the large window facing the waves of the ocean, almost running alongside the entire house.

We had hardly entered the cottage and sat down in two resting chairs facing the sea, when she suddenly stood up in front of me, untied the knot at the back of her full dress, and let if slide down onto the wooden floor. She stood with her back towards me, exposing her arched back and my eyes had the opportunity to trace the lines of her body, from her neck, down along the shoulders, her narrow waist that melted together with an exquisite, hard, round buttocks. Her butt cheeks protruded from her lower back, and looked so big, so firm.

She turned, the light from the sea pouring in through the windows surrounding her, forming a silhouette of her dark body. The creamy areolas around her hard nipples, the divide between her resting breasts, the curved line down to the navel, ended in a triangle covered with a wide mat of curly, thick shrub, invitingly dark, deep between her muscular thighs. She let the bright fingers of her palm slide upwards along the interior of her thigh, and into this erotic thicket. The other palm, sliding up her belly, warmly squuezing one of her brim-filled tits.

She said, ”utapenda…”, let one finger slide between her labia… turned and opened the windows and walked out into the sea, the water encirling her legs and slowly, her butt.

I rested in my chair, not exactly sure what to do. I saw her sit down in the water, lean back to wet her hair, stand up again, splash water over her chest, massaging and caressing her breasts. I could see her parting her legs, dabbling her pussy and turning, pushing her ass upwards, brushing mildly between her but cheeks. She was cleaning herself.

She walked the long way up, drying her hair with a towel, her arms streched above her hair, exposing her shaven armpits and raising her ripe breasts to a form a perfect statue-like image.
She stopped by my reclining chair. Her still wet pussy hair just close to my face. She looked down on me… ”I want you to make her come”, she said, in a deep voice, and placed her one palm behind my head, and softly pushed my face towards that wet spot between her thighs.

The hair was cool, wet against my face. A smell of sea salt and her natural, musky scent mixed and made me instinctively inhale deeply. I gave it a kiss, feeling the hair against my cheeks, around my mouth. She pushed my head and my lips touched hers.

She said, ”Mja, njoo!”, come with me, I want you to make me flood, ”mafuriko, mafuriko”… My hostess then started to tell me, that to her, a real woman would always flood while making love. She explained that nothing would make her feel as female and excited as when she released a gush of liquid on her lover, when she would open her feminine source and bathe her partner, his sex, his face and chest. Like a wave from the sea borne within and releasing a warm tidal wave across his body, owning him.

Explaining that this was not a custom where I came from, and that she would have to invite me into this tradition, she started telling me how she had come to learn this.

”You see, the female is like the ocean. Sometimes still, calm, sometimes in a raging tempest, and so is her private parts and the spirit therewithin. When only twelve or thirteen, the best friend of my aunt taught me this important lesson. She instructed me. She told me how to masturbate, the way to envaken this spirit by the way of the hand. After I had mastered this, she told me solemnly, it was now time for me to become a woman. I was going to practice this by the sea, she said. You will sit in the sand, with legs apart, facing the ocean. Caressing yourself like I had told you, you will now also form a curve with one of your fingers. You will place it in you, and bend it upwards. Inside, you will find a spot, that when you squeeze it with the tip of your finger, it will feel so good, make you body tremble. And if you continue, rythmically, for a long time, you will build up a tension, a lovely feeling, your body will twist, and arch, in a holy way. If you continue, also caressing yourself as you are used to, in a while, it may be long, or short, you will start feeling like you would want to go pee. This is good. If you want to, you can stop and pee in the sea. The sea will not mind, dear girl. But then continue, and you will notice, she said, that you will still have the feeling of wanting to pee. Also, a squeezing feeling, like something is contracting inside, squeezing you. This is good. Continue, continue and you will be rewarded. After a while, it will be impossible to contain your sexual spirit anymore. Now this is the moment, when you can continue massaging, finger bent, and if you want to, push like to pee, but then relax, push, relax, push, relax. Suddenly, girl, you will feel like all heaven has come together between your thighs, to help your inner source spring out. Your vagina will push together, your pelvis will contract, and you will shoot out a flood, a spring, a foam, between your legs. It might be just a little, or a very firm stream, and you will be overcome with passionate, sexual desire, satisfaction and lust. And then, my child, you have become a true woman.”

She told me that she had practised these sexual details hard. Many times on her own, by the sea. Sometimes in skirt, to hide from the passers by, sometimes in protection of the night. And finally, she had found the spot, and managed to release a gush into the Indian Ocean, her body arching, filling with joy, and a new feeling of power.

Now, she wanted me to relax in my chair, reclined. She squatted down on my, infront of me, parting her thick thighs, exposing a slight piece of pink, and took one of my hands and brought it to her bush. ”Make me flood”, she said, closed her eyes, bent her head upwards, and waited for me to caress her.

Overwhelmed by her presence, her impressive body, still wet with beads of water from the sea, mixed with the steam of her warm body in the Kenyan climate, she moaned contented, pleased with having a mans hand producing desire and lust in her body. She must have felt my member rising between her buttocks, pushing against her bottom opening. She suddenly grabbed my penis, and held it, while she slid down on it. She violently pushed down, shoved herself up and down against my pelvis. She held me in a firm grip, and I could feel the my tip of my cock forecully hitting the fore part of her vagina. She moaned with each thrust, her body hitting heavy against mine, rubbing her inside… Suddenly, she opened her eyes, she gyrated almost backwards on my cock, said ”Now, you are mine”, quickly raised herself from my member, moved slightly forward on her knees, and, with a finger just above her slit, resting on her other hand behind her, she released her load over my waist, my pelvis all wet, in gushes, she moved forward slightly, pressing her finger even more, another gush spread across my chest and another splashed across my neck, and I felt a slightly sticky liquid wash over my face, ears and hair. ”Now I own you”, she said.

If you desire to experience this Keynian Indian Ocean flood yourself, continue to further explore the techniques used for female ejaculation, and also discover the aphrodisiacs used in some African countries and around the world. Perhaps this practice is common in other parts of the world, where the technique has been taught to courtesans in imperial love nests? Behind veils in Arabian countries, by by geishas in Japan, or in the grand palaces of India?

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