Celibacy & Other Cute Little Things

CELIBACY & OTHER CUTE LITTLE THINGS

A Short Story Anthology

MPHO MATSITLE

© Mpho Matsitle 2016

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy or any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the author.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental. 

ISBN: 978-0-620-70495-3

Cover image sourced from www.pixabay.com

Cover design by Lechaina Khotle

Dedicated

to all the

beautiful

smile cast

my way

Preamble

After music and love, words must be the third most beautiful of human interventions in this prosaic thing called life. I dedicate a lot of my time to this trinity of beauty. Thus far I have only managed an attempt at using the lower of the three – words – to craft beauty. This very anthology traces these attempts for the past seven years. For me writing is always an attempt at something higher; and this book is a perfect space for such attempts. And what is higher than beauty?

In this anthology, I tell tales of beauty. Of music of laughter of sex of love. Of the little pleasures of life; the miniscule moments that make human faces shine bright with wide smiles. Tales of friends of family of lovers of colleagues of comrades. These short tales are meant to excite the brain, to illicit smiles, to provoke laughter. In short; they are cute little things.

Some of these tales, notwithstanding their cuteness, tend to be on the risqué side of life. However, the sensitive reader should not be too offended; my pen means not to be crude – this is a liberated space. There are no holy cows. Words are used with absolute liberalism. Everything is questioned and questionable.

I owe this anthology to my muses: the beautiful smiles cast my way. Nothing excites my pen more than seeing a beautiful person smile at me. Without these smiles I can only write black. Only with these smiles can I be cute. As thus; a big thank you goes out to all those beautiful souls who managed to find my existence pleasing enough to warrant a smile.

It is also meet that I thank all those who continue to read, critique and improve my work. The Facebook massive for all their likes, comments and shares. This anthology also functions as a response to the many ‘inboxes’ asking for this kind of work. Another thank you to the twitteratti and all those who visited my blogs. And finally; you who holds this book in your hands – thank you!

Now that we have settled the philosophical and existential mumbo jumbo – let’s get cute!

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Table Of Contents

Celibacy: Breaking The Fast

Breaking Another Fast

Avana

Skelem Gemmer

Cuckold

Another First Encounter

Khon’Imbizo

Jeggings

Messages Read

The Ghost Writer

Celibacy: Return To The Path

in memory of

Tshepo,

my nigga…

Celibacy: Breaking The Fast

MY FRIEND DONE DIED OF AIDS. Many people here think I've got it too. But I don't. I've done lotsa dumb ish like that boy, but unprotected sex ain't one of them. It ain’t like he did it all the time, just with a couple of girls. But I guess that’s all it takes. Looking around here, there are a lot of fine honeys. All here to pay their last respect. I bet he slept with almost all of them. I know I did about half of them. Wonder how many got the virus? Anyway I don't give a damn. After tonight I'm going celibate.

After tonight.

Right now I need to get myself a lay, and it ain’t gon' be too hard: sympathy sex. Actually, the first girl that hugs me, imma shag. Simple.

Hey sweetie, that's Palesa, I'm so so sorry. Are you gonna be fine?

Yeah, I say, deflated. Her boobs feel nice against my chest. But I ain’t gonna do her; she's a log in bed. This is my last night in fuckville, I have to go out with a bang.

So I start scanning the place, it’s amazing how girls seem sexier in their church gear, and somehow decent. I mean just check out Mantwa, she slept with the whole town, yet in that dress you'd actually consider marriage. And that lil shorty Sindi, with that attire you wouldn't think she's such a freak in bed...Wait a minute, Sindi is a top class freak. Maybe she's just what I need.

Hey Sindi, glad you came.

Hey you, she hugs me tightly, I'm so sorry. You okay?

She lets me go, but not totally. She keeps her hands on my shoulders and looks right into my eyes.

I'll live, shouldn't have said that.

Sindi is one of them petite girls, small everything. She has an ass to grab on to and B-cup tits that aren't too bad and well placed on her small body. All in all she's quite hot.

Yo Gift, that’s Jax, maybe we should get going man, we gosta pay proper homage to our boy.

Sure.

Are you coming along? I turn to Sindi.

Where?

To our...er...my place.

That’s where the after tears is going down, at what used to be our flat. My boy and I. Now he be gone. Our Thugs Mansion. Where the magic happens. No girl has ever entered Thugs Mansion and left unsoiled. Good girls went bad at Thugs Mansion. Girls who considered it dirty to say dick had one spewing cream in their mouths. He had a knack for spoiling good girls, my friend. Now he be gone. This place will never be the same without him. My nigga...

Would you like to talk about it? Sindi snapped me out of my trance.

Let's go to my bedroom.

Ain’t much talking went on in there. With my first lay of the day, Thugs Mansion was opened for one last uninhibited binging affair.

That was about a year ago, since then things have been a bit quite. People be thinking that I'm depressed and ish. But I’m just trying to find me. For too long I've been part of this duo. But now I’m all alone, my nigga be gone...

There's a party in his honour going on this weekend. For the fallen soldier. I might go, I think I’m strong enough to resist temptation. Anyway, it’s about time I put my celibacy to the test.

On Saturday morning Jax hits me up on my cell, practically begging me to show up.

It's for our boy man, it’s for our boy!

I will go. Maybe.

I get there at around 11pm and it’s quite packed. All of my boys are there, most of our girl friends as well. Couple of hanger-ons and bootycalls, and a very few people I don’t recognise.

These two girls I don’t know are heating things up on the dance floor. They both wearing very mini miniskirts and they're all over each other. Touching, grinding, licking and kissing. Seeing two sets of boobs, whatever their state of undress, rubbing against each other is a sight to behold. I was captivated. Aroused. The other girl was nibbling on the other's lower lip when I noticed Mantwa watching me.

Mantwa, everyone’s bootycall, but I always had first dibs. We grew up together, our families are quite close. She was just standing there watching me, some guy trying to probably get his first round from her, but I could see he wasn't gon' get it. Poor dude, that will surely shatter his confidence and chances of getting laid tonight. Being turned down by the first-round-girl can do that to you, I've been there.

He tries to slide his hand up her skirt and she slaps him hard, but sloppy. Fuck! She's drunk. Being turned down by a drunk first-round-girl? That’s as low as it gets. Poor nigga, hope he doesn't realise I'm the cause. I could do with less haters. Thugs Mansion got us a lot of those. How many girls were told 'lebala monna wa gago tlhala fela mma'?

Now that she has freed herself off her pest, she stares into my eyes. My eyes alternate between her and the two girls on the dance floor.

Maybe it’s just my overactive imagination but I saw one girl slip her hand in her skirt and presumably her pussy and then put her finger in the other girl’s mouth to suck. I’m convinced these chicks are hired entertainment. Now I'm horny.

Mantwa, the predator she is, smells blood and is giving me that look. That all too familiar look. I want to fuck you, now! That’s what it says – nay, commands. She nods her head to the door on her right, and heads towards it swaying her fine ass, missing a step or two. I take one last glance at the strippers; they haven't stripped anything off yet. Damn! I might miss the rest of the show. Anyway, I gulp down my glass and duly follow Mantwa. I am in familiar territory, chasing skirts. I am home.

Mantwa is on the other end of the dimly lit room. It’s got empty beer crates all over, I've been here before. With Popi. I did her doggy. She was scared shitless; what if someone walks in. Good times...

Mantwa takes off her shirt; she's wearing a push-up bra. What the hell for? Anyway, her miniskirt also makes way. Why does it seem like everyone is rocking a mini here? Anyway, I won’t be missing any show it seems. I hope she'll go all the way. Her pink G-string looks rather dull compared to her Victoria Secret bra. But the G-string is also quite modest of her; I've always known her to be a strictly no-panties girl. I guess a lot has changed in the past year.

Oh ja…a lot has changed. I've changed, haven't I?

She staggers half naked towards me, grabs my semi-hard dick and be like I know you want to, and I'm like that nigga ain’t in charge, I am! and slap her dirty paws from me crotch. Damn ignorant ass drunken biatch, what has she contracted