10.05.2012, 03:31
Part 2:
An hour later, Hasso was lazing in the air-con cooled room after the hot exploration through town, the receptionist was calling:
“You have a guest here, Ms Adriana, but she does not have money to pay the taxi”
“OK, come up, I give you the 1000 MGA’s”
5 min later another call:
“Ms Adriana does not have an ID. I can’t let her go up to your room” the winching voice of the apparently gay receptionist was telling me.
“Send her back home”
“She will go back and get it and then come again. But the taxi is again 2000 MGA’s. Is it ok?”
Well…yes…just hurry up and lets fuck.. That is what Hasso thought.
Another 20 min and she finally appeared at his room. Not much of foreplay – straight into the shower and back on the white linen. Her tiny boobs sported large nipples but her pussy was shapely trimmed. Adriana didn’t allow Hasso to have a slurp at the pouting lips of her vagina but stroke his cock and guided it sans capote into a tight wet hole of pleasure. After a couple of strokes Hasso wanted to change position.
“Oh mon dieu, vous avez votre période”
His dick was stained with blood. He ushered her to the shower to clean up. His desire was gone. The mood was cooling down. Once Adriana was dressed, he slipped her 10.000 MGAs’ into her pocket just to let a volcano of Malagasy words erupt. Her reasonable knowledge of English disappeared. The only word Hasso could understand was “cinquantemille” “je ne suis pas un pute”
50.000 MGA’s that bitch wanted for the coitus interruptus and she didn’t want to leave the room either. It became a somewhat heated discussion. Finally Hasso called the front desk to clear matters out. The receptionist appeared and asked her to follow her to the manager’s office. Just 5 minutes later the gay boy came back and explained in flowery words that Adriana wants to call the police as it was earlier agreed to pay her 50.000. No way Jose, was Hasso thinking. There was never any discussion on money. 10.000 MGA should be good enough for that bloody bitch. Gay Boy was not eager to re-negotiate the fee. He offered as compromise to write a note, signed by Adriana with her full name and ID number, that she received 50.000 MGA’s for “ indéterminée des services”. Hasso wanted it to be changed into “inachevée des services” what means unfinished business, hoping her French is not that advanced, gave another 40.000 to Gay Boy and really got 10 minutes later this document.
First Hasso thought just to move on to greener pastures. So many Pussies to fuck here. But then, on his way later that evening for dinner, he stopped by the pub, saw the French manager sitting alone at the bar:
“Monsieur, your waitress is a cheating whore” and with that word Hasso dropped the note into his hands.
He read through, once, twice……
“Adriana!” he was calling through the pub. The bitch appeared, looked at Hasso knowing it’s not really good to see him here. An avalanche of Malagasy words followed and Adriana slowly walked into the back of the room.
“Sorry M sir. May I offer you a drink?”
Hasso ordered a Pasties to show his appreciation of French lifestyle.
“What did you talk to Adriana?”
“I knew she is a pute. But I don’t want to employ cheating waitresses. She got fired”
Hasso sipped his Pasties, a little smirk on his face. The evening got off with a better start then the afternoon ended.
Where is the Action?
Everyone has his preference on action time: Hasso is not actually a night owl. He preferred to be at 10:00 in the sack with a cuddly warm body next to him. The pickings at Nuevo Disco were slim at that time. But one girl with a shy smile, sitting alone, attracted him. He waved her over to his table. Larissa paid her drinks first to the waiter, what made her already a keeper in Hasso’s eyes. They quickly settled the terms, 40.000 for the night, and off they went to his hotel.
The gay receptionist was nodding to him and whispering:
“Monsieur, this girl looks much better then the one in the afternoon”
.
Larissa did all what’s on the menu. In the morning she was clinging and it was hard for Hasso to clean the corral. But with a vague promise to call her at the evening, she finally left. He was expecting Miss Noono to come
Miss Noono
The minute god created boobs (Noonos) all of mans innocence went down the drain and thus began the age of boobs where women could get anything they want by showing cleavage or flashing men. (Oscar Wilde)
Noono did write excellent letters in English. For Hasso it was easy to communicate with her by e mail. She said to be a student, 20 years, had a Malagasy BF but he found another girl to be better. The pictures Noono sent were showing a reserved looking girl with an enormous cleavage. Why the heck a normal guy could send off that Dolly Parton of Madagascar?
They met at the in-place of Diego: the Patisserie of the Grand Hotel. It’s the place where all the expats meet for cafe au lait to dip in warm croissants and discuss the world until lunch when the sun gets too hot. As soon Noono stepped out of the taxi, all guys glared at her. Tight white jeans and a T shirt filled with 2 D cup melons. Monsieur von Guttenberge stood up: Hey, guys, that’s my prey… Once sitting down it became complicated to talk. Nono’s English was apparently the result of Google Translator and her French was mixed with as many Malagasy words to complicate matters. Over lunch both agreed that Noono shall go back home to ask for permission from her mom to come along with Hasso the next couple of days to Ramada beach, 40 km north off Diego. She is a good girl. And shy, not to say introvert.
Before sunset she was back at Hasso’s hotel ready with a big bag for an oversea trip. He just stored her bag in the room and then invited her for dinner at the hotel restaurant. Sitting at the bar, the chef was helping as translator with the difficult conversation. Both enjoyed the meal and there was at the end no hesitation for Noono to follow him upstairs. They relaxed on the bed, watching TV and Hasso took it easy not to grab the melons immediately. Hey baby can you push them away a bit. I can’t see the TV…
Slowly both got sleepy but Noono was not eager to go for a shower and change into something light for the night. Hasso was in the state of bursting but still holding his horses back. Another hour, she was sleeping besides him, fully dressed. He switched on the light:
“Noono, if you like to sleep alone in your dress, then please not here. Then it is better for you to go back home”
She looked bewildered. She simply didn’t want to get undressed. But then, she wanted to stay. Finally, after another hour, she gripped the towel and locked herself into the bathroom. Back in the room she closed all curtains, switched off the TV and lights. Even the blue bulb of the mosquito-lamp was too bright for her. Once it was pitching dark, she slipped under the blanket to waiting Hasso. He could slowly take off her tightly fitted towel and finally feel those very firm hooters. Never had he before so firm balls of that size in his palms. Bigger ones yes, but then they had a softer grip. Those 2 pyramids could stand by themselves without any steel structure to support them from dropping.
Noono did not make efforts to play with Hasso’s growing dick and was not pleased with too much touching. To get it done then, he climbed on her and slipped his dick into a very tight but not too wet pussy. The tightness did make him cum fast. But as soon as she felt it, she towed the blanket over her body and rolled on the side, not allowing any more contact for Hasso.
Next morning Hasso gave it another try. She kept her body covered, didn’t allow any kissing or touching. Frustrating. A starfish. It was not what he expected from Dolly Parton. At breakfast he tried to find out why she is so hesitant of any body contact or caressing. Her only reply was:
“Je suis comme ca..”
For Hasso it was now clear why the BF left her for another gal. Noona had apparently a phobia because of her big tits. She thought all guys just want that 2 bombs – which are correct – and they don’t want me. Hasso was not in the mood to invest time and efforts to show her otherwise. He decided to cut it short. He told her, that the scooter he could rent can carry 1 person only and once he is back they will meet here again. Not an easy task. Some tears were flowing. But a couple of cadeaux like a red nightie and a nice watch he bought in Singapore made her believe on his promise to return.
Will he??
Scary nights
In 2008 Madagascar's electricity production was 940 million kWh: a medium size town in Germany has a similar consumption as this whole island. There is not electrical grid. Only larger towns do have a working power system. Resorts run diesel generators at peak times. But with the fuel price of 1, 70 EU/litre they only run it for some few hours in the evening.
That Hasso remembered in his pitch dark room at the small resort on white sand Sakalava Bay north of Diego. He could not sleep despite his 2 hour ride from Diego on a motorbike to the deserted resort. Then having a tasty grilled fish with half a litre of South African Chardonnay for dinner and a “beer for the road” later. It was scary, alone lying on the big bed with a mosquito net covered. There is no bar, no entertainment except the soothing sound of waves 20 m in front of his bungalow.
“Excuse moi….” A whisper from a shadow outside.
“Ello m’sieur…”
Who is that? What time is it? He tried to see the numbers on his watch dial. Its only 11:00 at night. He stepped outside. There was the guard standing with a big grin on his face:
“Pourquo vous dormir seul? Voulez une fille?”
..to be continued
An hour later, Hasso was lazing in the air-con cooled room after the hot exploration through town, the receptionist was calling:
“You have a guest here, Ms Adriana, but she does not have money to pay the taxi”
“OK, come up, I give you the 1000 MGA’s”
5 min later another call:
“Ms Adriana does not have an ID. I can’t let her go up to your room” the winching voice of the apparently gay receptionist was telling me.
“Send her back home”
“She will go back and get it and then come again. But the taxi is again 2000 MGA’s. Is it ok?”
Well…yes…just hurry up and lets fuck.. That is what Hasso thought.
Another 20 min and she finally appeared at his room. Not much of foreplay – straight into the shower and back on the white linen. Her tiny boobs sported large nipples but her pussy was shapely trimmed. Adriana didn’t allow Hasso to have a slurp at the pouting lips of her vagina but stroke his cock and guided it sans capote into a tight wet hole of pleasure. After a couple of strokes Hasso wanted to change position.
“Oh mon dieu, vous avez votre période”
His dick was stained with blood. He ushered her to the shower to clean up. His desire was gone. The mood was cooling down. Once Adriana was dressed, he slipped her 10.000 MGAs’ into her pocket just to let a volcano of Malagasy words erupt. Her reasonable knowledge of English disappeared. The only word Hasso could understand was “cinquantemille” “je ne suis pas un pute”
50.000 MGA’s that bitch wanted for the coitus interruptus and she didn’t want to leave the room either. It became a somewhat heated discussion. Finally Hasso called the front desk to clear matters out. The receptionist appeared and asked her to follow her to the manager’s office. Just 5 minutes later the gay boy came back and explained in flowery words that Adriana wants to call the police as it was earlier agreed to pay her 50.000. No way Jose, was Hasso thinking. There was never any discussion on money. 10.000 MGA should be good enough for that bloody bitch. Gay Boy was not eager to re-negotiate the fee. He offered as compromise to write a note, signed by Adriana with her full name and ID number, that she received 50.000 MGA’s for “ indéterminée des services”. Hasso wanted it to be changed into “inachevée des services” what means unfinished business, hoping her French is not that advanced, gave another 40.000 to Gay Boy and really got 10 minutes later this document.
First Hasso thought just to move on to greener pastures. So many Pussies to fuck here. But then, on his way later that evening for dinner, he stopped by the pub, saw the French manager sitting alone at the bar:
“Monsieur, your waitress is a cheating whore” and with that word Hasso dropped the note into his hands.
He read through, once, twice……
“Adriana!” he was calling through the pub. The bitch appeared, looked at Hasso knowing it’s not really good to see him here. An avalanche of Malagasy words followed and Adriana slowly walked into the back of the room.
“Sorry M sir. May I offer you a drink?”
Hasso ordered a Pasties to show his appreciation of French lifestyle.
“What did you talk to Adriana?”
“I knew she is a pute. But I don’t want to employ cheating waitresses. She got fired”
Hasso sipped his Pasties, a little smirk on his face. The evening got off with a better start then the afternoon ended.
Where is the Action?
Everyone has his preference on action time: Hasso is not actually a night owl. He preferred to be at 10:00 in the sack with a cuddly warm body next to him. The pickings at Nuevo Disco were slim at that time. But one girl with a shy smile, sitting alone, attracted him. He waved her over to his table. Larissa paid her drinks first to the waiter, what made her already a keeper in Hasso’s eyes. They quickly settled the terms, 40.000 for the night, and off they went to his hotel.
The gay receptionist was nodding to him and whispering:
“Monsieur, this girl looks much better then the one in the afternoon”
.
Larissa did all what’s on the menu. In the morning she was clinging and it was hard for Hasso to clean the corral. But with a vague promise to call her at the evening, she finally left. He was expecting Miss Noono to come
Miss Noono
The minute god created boobs (Noonos) all of mans innocence went down the drain and thus began the age of boobs where women could get anything they want by showing cleavage or flashing men. (Oscar Wilde)
Noono did write excellent letters in English. For Hasso it was easy to communicate with her by e mail. She said to be a student, 20 years, had a Malagasy BF but he found another girl to be better. The pictures Noono sent were showing a reserved looking girl with an enormous cleavage. Why the heck a normal guy could send off that Dolly Parton of Madagascar?
They met at the in-place of Diego: the Patisserie of the Grand Hotel. It’s the place where all the expats meet for cafe au lait to dip in warm croissants and discuss the world until lunch when the sun gets too hot. As soon Noono stepped out of the taxi, all guys glared at her. Tight white jeans and a T shirt filled with 2 D cup melons. Monsieur von Guttenberge stood up: Hey, guys, that’s my prey… Once sitting down it became complicated to talk. Nono’s English was apparently the result of Google Translator and her French was mixed with as many Malagasy words to complicate matters. Over lunch both agreed that Noono shall go back home to ask for permission from her mom to come along with Hasso the next couple of days to Ramada beach, 40 km north off Diego. She is a good girl. And shy, not to say introvert.
Before sunset she was back at Hasso’s hotel ready with a big bag for an oversea trip. He just stored her bag in the room and then invited her for dinner at the hotel restaurant. Sitting at the bar, the chef was helping as translator with the difficult conversation. Both enjoyed the meal and there was at the end no hesitation for Noono to follow him upstairs. They relaxed on the bed, watching TV and Hasso took it easy not to grab the melons immediately. Hey baby can you push them away a bit. I can’t see the TV…
Slowly both got sleepy but Noono was not eager to go for a shower and change into something light for the night. Hasso was in the state of bursting but still holding his horses back. Another hour, she was sleeping besides him, fully dressed. He switched on the light:
“Noono, if you like to sleep alone in your dress, then please not here. Then it is better for you to go back home”
She looked bewildered. She simply didn’t want to get undressed. But then, she wanted to stay. Finally, after another hour, she gripped the towel and locked herself into the bathroom. Back in the room she closed all curtains, switched off the TV and lights. Even the blue bulb of the mosquito-lamp was too bright for her. Once it was pitching dark, she slipped under the blanket to waiting Hasso. He could slowly take off her tightly fitted towel and finally feel those very firm hooters. Never had he before so firm balls of that size in his palms. Bigger ones yes, but then they had a softer grip. Those 2 pyramids could stand by themselves without any steel structure to support them from dropping.
Noono did not make efforts to play with Hasso’s growing dick and was not pleased with too much touching. To get it done then, he climbed on her and slipped his dick into a very tight but not too wet pussy. The tightness did make him cum fast. But as soon as she felt it, she towed the blanket over her body and rolled on the side, not allowing any more contact for Hasso.
Next morning Hasso gave it another try. She kept her body covered, didn’t allow any kissing or touching. Frustrating. A starfish. It was not what he expected from Dolly Parton. At breakfast he tried to find out why she is so hesitant of any body contact or caressing. Her only reply was:
“Je suis comme ca..”
For Hasso it was now clear why the BF left her for another gal. Noona had apparently a phobia because of her big tits. She thought all guys just want that 2 bombs – which are correct – and they don’t want me. Hasso was not in the mood to invest time and efforts to show her otherwise. He decided to cut it short. He told her, that the scooter he could rent can carry 1 person only and once he is back they will meet here again. Not an easy task. Some tears were flowing. But a couple of cadeaux like a red nightie and a nice watch he bought in Singapore made her believe on his promise to return.
Will he??
Scary nights
In 2008 Madagascar's electricity production was 940 million kWh: a medium size town in Germany has a similar consumption as this whole island. There is not electrical grid. Only larger towns do have a working power system. Resorts run diesel generators at peak times. But with the fuel price of 1, 70 EU/litre they only run it for some few hours in the evening.
That Hasso remembered in his pitch dark room at the small resort on white sand Sakalava Bay north of Diego. He could not sleep despite his 2 hour ride from Diego on a motorbike to the deserted resort. Then having a tasty grilled fish with half a litre of South African Chardonnay for dinner and a “beer for the road” later. It was scary, alone lying on the big bed with a mosquito net covered. There is no bar, no entertainment except the soothing sound of waves 20 m in front of his bungalow.
“Excuse moi….” A whisper from a shadow outside.
“Ello m’sieur…”
Who is that? What time is it? He tried to see the numbers on his watch dial. Its only 11:00 at night. He stepped outside. There was the guard standing with a big grin on his face:
“Pourquo vous dormir seul? Voulez une fille?”
..to be continued