Webcam Delights

I am sorry to report yet another fruitless week, in the area of ‘Lurve’... but did I ever tell you of my American sailor? I corresponded for a while, last year, with an American oil boat captain, stationed in Eastern Africa, who, at first seemed like an exciting prospect. We chatted, and conversation flowed lively between us, funny, sensitive, well-mannered –charming guy, really, as they all seem at first. He persuaded me onto the webcam, which, to my delight, did NOT kill the buzz, because he wasn’t actually a short fat old woman. He was tall and handsome and fit, promptly sending my womb a-singing with his genes. My own appearance apparently had the same effect on him. I say this, not just because he told me so, but he then took off his shirt, whereupon my singing womb went into full opera-mode... until he told me to take off mine.

Now, I’m not tooooo prudish, but I’m certainly not a free-for-all, we-were-born-naked, what’s-the-big-deal, would-change-in-front-of-a-stranger, enthusiastic nudist type. And I’m certainly NOT that way with someone I haven’t known for very long. So I demurred, using my very best manners, and we went on talking for a bit, and then he had to go. We chatted the next night, as though nothing had happened, and the night after that... then, some time that week, he asked me if I had noticed that he tended to log off promptly at 9 p.m. I hadn’t. Then, the bomb. At 9, this Beautiful American Man (BAM) typed, he usually had a chat appointment with another Kenyan girl. 1) I’m not the jealous type, 2) I’d just met this person –we weren’t dating or in a relationship, so I had no right to be jealous even if leaned that way and 3) What was his point? Well, I soon found out. Kenyan Girl II spent her time with BAM... stripping. Stripping for him over the webcam, in a manner that I can’t help but think must have been expert enough, to have him coming back every night. I was completely put off. Seriously. It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over me. Yet, irrationally, one of my first thoughts was... what kind of stripper strips for free?

The whole Men, Prostitutes & Porn relationship is something I’ve thankfully never had to deal with, but frankly, with the type of man I’m after, I never expected it to be an issue. And that wasn’t the issue. BAM was happy, he told me, to give up his stripper, if it made me uncomfortable (yeah, right) because he could see us going somewhere, whereas, with the stripper, it was only a flirtation thing. ‘Hmmh’ no. 1 –as in, I wasn’t convinced. Still, he stayed over his 9 p.m deadline that night, and the following nights –perhaps because he’d rescheduled Stripper. Then, ‘Hmmh’ no. 2. He proposed that I might like to do ‘something’ in the vein of stripping for him. Now... I want a man, I really do? But NOT that bad. Really not. I told him I didn’t know him nearly well enough to reveal my bra colour, and he once again retreated. I highly suspected at this time that BAM? He's the one the call "Wham Bam", who thanks you sarcastically after you've given in to him.

I don’t know why I continued chatting to him after this, I really don’t (well... yes I do –he was Hot. And my womb was blaring opera. But let’s pretend I don’t, because it’s more comfortable.) So anyway, I DID continue chatting with him, and during the next few weeks, the chips just fell into place beautifully: He had been married but was divorced, he had a child, who lived back in America, for whom he wanted a mother, he wanted to come to Kenya and be shown ‘a good time’. He loved me and wanted me, and couldn’t wait for us to get intimate... I could go on, but he had me somewhere at the ‘divorced’ part, wherein he elaborated that he and his ex were on ‘excellent terms’, and that he had her over there, but wanted someone over here and that, whatever the outcome of our relationship, I should expect her to ‘be in our lives’. I logged off for the last time with not a tinge of regret. What a crock. What shitty, confused, silly boys men are. How they love to have their cake and eat it, then ask for seconds, or eat their neighbours’ cake. And how DARE they be Hot and Dumb!!!

Ever In Pursuit...