Date: Tue, 27 Dec 2011 19:28:27 +0200
From: Russell Timm <russell.timm@gmail.com>
Subject: African Adventure - Chapter 1

African Adventure  -- 1986
by Russell Timm

Copyright 2011 Russell Timm

DISCLAIMER:  THIS STORY IS FICTION AND THE CHARACTERS IN IT ARE FICTION.
THE EVENTS AND SITUATIONS ARE FICTITIOUS AND INCLUDE DEPICTIONS OF
CONSENSUAL GAY SEX.

This story is a variation of the Into Africa story of which two
chapters have been posted in the categories: Interracial and Adult
Youth. Comment as to which variation is better would be appreciated.
Enjoy.



Chapter 1 -- Return to Zimbabwe


I had been born in Rhodesia, as Zimbabwe had been called before
independence, and lived there for twelve happy years until my parents
emigrated to the UK shortly after independence. It had taken me some
time to adjust to a new country with a colder wetter climate and I had
never quite got the country of my birth out of my system.

It was natural then when deciding what to do in my gap year between
high school and university to visit Zimbabwe to see old boyhood
friends and revisits the places of my youth. The British pound goes a
long way in Africa and so I set out with my life's savings topped up
by a generous amount from my parents on an open return air ticket on
the journey of a lifetime.

My father, an accountant, had sat with me for hours in preparation
explaining to me how to budget for the trip, how be careful not to
overspend on accommodation and transport, how to use travellers
cheques and how to protect the three vital items being your passport,
your air ticket and your money. By the time I left I was armed with
triplicate lists travellers cheque numbers, all the contact details of
the British Embassies and Consulates in southern and central Africa
and the details of banks and their branches which had commercial ties
with his bank in the UK. I was pretty well prepared.

The month I spent in Zimbabwe was a disappointment. The magic of the
country had gone as I no longer identified with it. Even driving past
the house where I grew up did nothing for me. My old school the same.
Worse my old childhood friends had also grown up and I found we were
now so far apart that we had little in common. I realised I was in
fact closing a chapter of my life with this visit and now must move
on.

By chance the high point of my visit had been when making a courtesy
visit to good friends of my parents I was introduced to their son who
I hardly remembered who it turned out shared my interest in tropical
fish. What followed then was my first deviation from my planned
itinerary to stay with them for three days to learn about his aquarium
and the fish he kept and visit the other members of the local club to
see and learn about what they were doing. I was thrilled at the
opportunity and what I learned as the majority also specialised in my
favourites the Malawi Cichlid fish which comprised a bewildering range
of brightly coloured small tropical fish.

James whose room I shared for my stay was a year younger than me but
seemed quite precocious and worldly. He was by all accounts a good
student with interests in the natural sciences and little interest in
sports. Apart form his interest in tropical fish he was an avid bird
watcher and was a member of his school and also local community bird
club. He had the tan to go with his outdoor activities which differed
from your normal beach tan in that his lower legs from where his knee
length shorts ended to his ankles where his hiking boots began were
tanned. His upper body was tanned only where his arms protruded from
his shirt and on the vee on his upper chest and his neck and face
where they were not fully protected by the universal floppy hat worn
by everyone as protection from the burning African sun.

I mention James only that it was on his advice that I ventured to Lake
Malawi in search of the Malawi Cichlid in its natural environment and
that it was he who reawakened the long suppressed feelings of physical
attraction I had felt for other boys for as long as I could remember.

"If you are really interested in Malawi Cichlids," he told me, "you
should go to Hippo Bay on Lake Malawi."

"What happens there?" I asked.

"Well there is this rather interesting guy who lives there on a boat
doing research and stuff. He has built and runs a Cichlid aquarium
there, which is of a pretty high standard. He used to work here in the
Rhodesia days for the Department of Parks and Wildlife where he got
caught up in the Bush War and made quite a name for himself as a
tracker. I believe he was a pretty brutal bloke and got wounded once
and got some bravery medal."

"Sounds like an interesting guy."

"Yes, I met him in Malawi last year on a family holiday. We stayed for
two nights and hired a local boat to take us out snorkelling. The bird
life is also great there by the way. He came in from his boat to have
a few drinks and seemed a very nice guy. He had a long chat to my
parents about birds and fish and what little game there still was in
the area. I just couldn't take my eyes off him."

"He looks like a handsome version of Hemingway. A full beard and long
hair in a ponytail and he moved like a wild cat. I could just imagine
him in the Bush War tracking the guerrillas. And those eyes, my God
those eyes, green and constantly alert yet at the same time soft and
deep, do you know what I mean."

I nodded though I didn't.

"Looked at me a few times and when he looked into my eyes it was like
I got shot by a stun gun or something. I still shake when I think of
it." James paused, obviously reliving the moment. "Then you know what
happened?"

"Tell me."

"Well later I went to fetch some drinks from the bar and he was there
alone chatting to the barman. So I was next to him and when the barman
went to fetch the order so he says to me, `How old are you James?',
sixteen and a half I replied, then his says straight out, `That's a
pity, because if you were eighteen I would invite you out to my boat
so I could fuck your brains out,' no kidding, he said it just like
that."

"So what did you do?"

"What could I do, I was stunned. I mean I had fooled around with some
of my school mates before, you know wanking each other and sucking
each other, but men fucking is a very queer thing to do isn't it?"

"You had guys suck your cock before?" I asked incredulously.

"Of course, in boarding school we sucked each other off all the time,"
he paused, "you were never in boarding school then?"

I shook my head. He laughed.

"OK, now I understand your surprise."

"Would you let him fuck you?" I asked.

"Right now if I think about it probably not but then he had me in a
spell, you know what I mean, if I saw him again and he had the same
effect on me I probably would go to his boat and let him fuck my
brains out." He laughed. "Amazing guy."

"Any way time for a shower before supper, I'll go first because I need
to set the water temperature right, and you can follow me right in,
OK"

"OK," I replied and watched as he threw off his T-shirt and dropped
his shorts and underpants. His cock was small and there was skin
bunched up behind the head.

"Get ready I won't be long," he said as he stepped into the shower.

I stripped down to my underpants and sat waiting on the bed. I thought
about James, I thought about his boarding school antics and felt
myself getting hard. I forced myself to look at and concentrate on his
fishtank.

James pulled the shower curtain back and called, "OK finished, jump in."

I stood, dropped my underpants and noticed to my surprise that James
coming out of the shower was semi erect.

"Now that looks different to when you went in." I said nodding towards his cock.

I slipped past him and into the shower trying to hide my growing arousal.

James noticed it, "Can I help you with that?"

He took my silence as acceptance and joined me in the shower.

Well thanks to James, I broke my duck. I received my first blow job
and blew my first guy. The blowjob was good and I came quickly but
James had to warn me twice to mind my teeth and I couldn't bring him
off so he asked me to finish him by hand, which I did.

We towelled off and dressed. James went to see when supper would be
ready and I sat on the bed. I wanted to cry, `So Charlie boy you
really are a fucking queer after all,' I thought to myself. I was
disgusted with myself not for any other reason than I had enjoyed it.
I experienced the conflicting feelings of guilt and joy, of disgust
and liberation. My head was spinning.

"Don't worry Charlie, you'll get over it," James had returned, "thirty
minutes to supper, what shall we do? Another shower?" he laughed out
loud.

I laughed too. I wanted to hug him but instead I just fell back on the
bed and laughed until I cried.

I felt James' body on top of mine.

"Careful Charlie, if you lie like that with your legs open I'll read
it as an invitation to take you out to my boat and fuck your brains
out," deepening his voice for the last part for effect.

I pushed him off and sat up. I was laughing again now and the tears of
relief were running down my cheeks.

At dinner we discussed the best options for me to get to Malawi and
Hippo Bay using public transport and I was thankful that they had
recently travelled there themselves and were pretty much up to date.
James made me promise to write to him saying that he really wanted to
travel there when he finished school the next year and try to get some
holiday work there. He also made his parents promise to write to the
local Hemingway to that effect.

I had two other families to visit before I could leave for Malawi so
it was a few days before I returned to spend my last night in Zimbabwe
with James and his family.

James' mother served a grand dinner of roast beef, Yorkshire Pudding
and roast potatoes and insisted that I eat more than my fill because
as she said, `We don't know when you will get your next square meal.'
It was a wonderful evening spent with a family I was growing
increasingly fond of who made my last meal in Zimbabwe one to
remember.

The evening ended fittingly when James after making his camp bed look
slept in climbed into bed with me and naked and still perhaps
uninhibited by all the beer and wine consumed during the evening we
held each other close and kissed. It was the first time for me and
another milestone in my sexual evolution. The climax came when he
rolling on top of me and placing his cock between my closed thighs
slowly began to hump. I came first on my stomach and pulled him hard
against me in the process brought him off. We lay still like that for
a while before slowly rolling over to one side when still holding each
other tight we drifted off to sleep.

The next morning I was dropped off at the bus depot armed with
sandwiches and bottled water for the journey. My good-byes and
thank-yous were sincere and genuine and I had to resist the temptation
to hug James and just settle for a manly handshake and a promise to
write.

The City-to-City bus service provided a comfortable bus with onboard
toilet facilities, movies with snack and soft drink service. The
actual driving time would be seven hours but with two borders to pass
through that could well end up as a ten hour journey. I was told that
the Zimbabwe/Mocambique and the Mocambique/Malawi border posts were
likely to be nightmares and that a book and a healthy supply of
patience would be necessary. I was armed with the book `Konings' Book
of Cichlids and All the Other Fishes of Lake Malawi' I had purchased
through James' fish club and the sandwiches and bottled water from
James' family and was ready to make the most of it.

The journey took all of ten hours and it was already dark when the bus
arrived at the Blantyre bus depot. I was exhausted but first checked
the departure time for the local bus to the Lakeshore before checking
into the backpackers lodge across the road from the bus depot. The
cheapest accommodation was in the dormitory and I took it gladly and
after a quick shower and a cheap meal I hit the sack to be up early
and ready for the bus trip in the morning.


End of Chapter 1