As an experienced 4x4 tourist guide I am often requested to undertake personalized tours into the African bush for smaller groups with specific requirements.
Being an independent operator I am entirely flexible and can usually accommodate everyone’s needs for which I charge a basic daily rate over and above the tour expenses.
Recently I received this unusual email from two Scandinavian ladies who requested a proposal for a relaxing three week tour to some of the central African game reserves but this was also to include game viewing from a luxury house boat on Lake Kariba.
Basically an uncomplicated assignment, I thought. South Luangwa game reserve in Zambia and Mana Pools in Zimbabwe were closest to Kariba and pretty wild as well. The challenging part was the mode of transport requested. They needed a luxuriously equipped 2x4 motorhome with all the bells and whistles to enjoy the wild in absolute luxury.
They were quick to explain that they had both recently come out of nasty divorces and their objective was to have fun and lose themselves in the bush.
All possible, I thought. But two recently divorced women in their late thirties and a fifty year old male together on a personalized bush tour would not bode well with any of the larger tour companies. As I was an independent and had my company’s reputation to protect I felt confident that I could handle the situation both competently and professionally without blemish on my spotless fifteen year reputation.
The day soon arrived to meet their flight at Lusaka airport, Zambia.
Luxury motorhomes a la America are not that freely available in Africa let alone central Africa but after extensive inquiries in Johannesburg, S.A. I was fortunate enough to locate a brand new one which was being dropped off at Lusaka Airport the day before. This was available provided that I returned it to the hire company’s Johannesburg offices on completion.
The hire company was delighted to accept my booking and assured me that it would be in perfect condition and would even supply all the extras I had listed for my clients assured comfort. These included an endless supply of towels, two chez lounges, outdoor tables, lanterns etc.
The motorhome was incredible. Besides the expected luxury it also had a small bath tub and a 400 litre water tank as well as the equivalent grey water storage system to cope with showers and baths for two days. Yet it was not ungainly in size for maneuverability in rough terrain. I was satisfied that I had met their brief.
Dressed in my tour guide khaki shorts, boots and hat with Africa Bush Safaris prominently displayed on a placard as well as on my hat and shirt I met their flight.
Two hot females strutted out from the crowd in the arrivals hall straight towards me. Both were dressed in their designer safari outfits complete with headgear, all specially bought for their African bush experience. Their appearance caused a huge stir in the crowd as they literally came bouncing along.
The one on the right wore body hugging light beige jeans. They were so tight that they stretched across her magnificent mound leaving nothing to the imagination. She also wore an almost see-through cream top which did little to hide her bra-less fully erect perky nipples, safari hat, handbag and boots.
Her friend wore the shortest pair of light beige hot pants imaginable which cut back from the crotch barely covering her puffy pubes on either side of her crack, and a low cut see-through blouse which magnificently revealed her partly erect nipples hiding from no-one, cap and clutch bag all of safari design.
As they shouted in unison, “Hello, Ryan”, I took a deep breath and clearly remembered that whilst I was actually being aroused by the splendour set before me I could not stop thinking about what I had let myself in for. How was I ever to survive without blemish from these over-sexed females from Copenhagen?
I had been grossly misled and should have insisted on a female companion to diffuse the situation of any possible speculation whatsoever.
They enthusiastically threw their arms around my neck, squeezing tightly against my chest and my already aroused manhood. This made matters even worse.
After an exchange of niceties I inquired about their luggage as both were pulling cabin size cases and holding their hand bags.
“That’s it!” Ria said, bending down and fully exposing her magnificently rounded naked breasts as she slipped her passport into her case.
“We don’t need to wear much in this hot climate do we, so it’s all in here!” They exchanged naughty smiles as I think they must have noticed my bulge developing. I stood there momentarily speechless.
I raised my eyebrows, and grabbed the two bags thinking how my previous female clients managed to fill their entire cabin luggage with just their make-up.
The walk to our vehicle, parked at the airport entrance, was by far the longest, most embarrassing walk I’ve ever made. The airport literally came to a stand still as we strode through. Africa Bush Safaris was prominently flanked by each of these booby bouncing beauties in platform boots, strutting confidently and enjoying all the attention they were getting. We were all on display whether we liked it or not. I was not enjoying it one little bit especially the wolf whistling and cheering which followed us.
The girls were smiling and then Mara whispered, “Good advertising for ABS, hey, Ryan?”
“Yes, but let’s get out of here please! I pleaded.
Our motorhome was crowded by ‘rubber-neckers’ trying to take a peek inside.
As we made our way and got in I whispered, “I’ll switch on both aircons so don’t open the windows please.”
“Wow, is this ours?” Mara asked. “It looks so new.” She literally spread herself, legs and arms flung wide apart, on the king size double bed at the rear whilst Ria inspected the bathroom.
“It’s magnificent!” she pronounced, “but the tub is a little small for three!”
What were they thinking? My mind raced through all the diplomatic options to handling this run-a-way situation? This was heading for wild seduction in the bush and not wild life in Africa, or were they related? I was becoming more and more confused.
We all seated quickly. Ria, in the hot pants, sat in the front passenger seat whilst Mara sat behind her. We took off heading for our first campsite on the outskirts of Lusaka. Unfortunately we had to negotiate the noon-day traffic through the city, which was always congested.
The ladies seemed to be impressed with my selection of vehicle as it offered all the options they were looking for. After a quick discussion it became clear that the soaring African temperature to 36 deg. C was catching up with them.
Ria, in the front, discarded her boots and unbuttoned the last two buttons of her see-through blouse which could now easily expose her naked breasts. She pulled her right leg, closest to me, up onto her seat into a lotus position. In the process she completely exposed part of her crotch which was naked as well. Her puffy lips invited even longer attention. She was not wearing any panties or even a g-string. The thought simply accelerated my hard-on.
Looking down at my reforming tent Ria smiled and said, “Ryan, you seem to be a little uncomfortable, but I do like your tan”.
With that she reached over exposing her magnificent breasts completely as her open blouse allowed them unrestricted freedom. They were amazing. Perfectly rounded, with lovely juicy erect nipples, which caused my entire body to stiffen. She ran her hand up my outer thigh and commented,
“Your tan goes right up and I don’t see any underwear! That’s what I do on hot days as well. Are you brown all-over, Ryan?”
Before I had time to respond, except for a visibly hardening tent, she had undone my waist button and unzipped my shorts. My cock bolted out like a stallion being released from its stable as it was too hot to wear briefs. Her warm hand enfolded my thickening shaft and gently stroked it down to my balls. My erection simply exploded. I was totally aroused and hardly able to concentrate in the heavy traffic.
“Oh, Mara, just look at this lovely tan and see what else I’ve found. It’s magnificent. You must have a look. Ryan, you do have an amazing tan! We are going to have such a good time”
“Well I’m undressed,” came the response from the back. But Mara still came forward completely naked, and stooped over to inspect my tan.
Her well-endowed boobs bounced along with Samoara Michel Highway. She peered closely over my shoulder. Her beautifully shaped body and her shaved pussy simply filled the rear view mirror!
“Ohooo! That is exciting, and look what it’s doing.” she spouted, leaning further forward. An erect nipple brushed past my ear as she rested her glorious bosom on my shoulder to eagerly fondle my manhood.
“It’s leaking and we don’t want it to spill any, do we?”
As she eased her body around her hand came forward, closely followed by her head, Ria released her hand to push down her hot pants. They fell to her feet.
She lifted her bum and shouted, “This g-string is killing me.”
Amazingly she flicked it out between her very wet puffy lips. Even I could see that the g-string was also totally saturated as it fell to her feet.
Her glossy pussy, now in full view for all to see, was instantly applauded by the surrounding motorists. They hooted and cheered as they pointed whistled, cat-called and shouted suggestive remarks at the nudist display before them.
All this happened in a matter of seconds.
My mind was in a complete turmoil. Where had all that professionalism gone? I’d scarcely been with these new clients for fifteen minutes and they had my pants down, they were pantiless, I had unobstructed views of their magnificent shaved pussies and beautifully shaped breasts. The one client was so turned-on that she was wet with anticipation and I was about to shoot my load in a never-to-be-forgotten blow job of the century whilst negotiating peak hour traffic in a capital city in Central Africa? Where was my mind?
Fortunately, I refocused and shouted,
“Ladies, sit down, NOW, and cover yourselves, PLEASE”.
I did the same with my shirt.
“We’ll be arrested for public indecency. Please just listen to me and do it now!”
They complied immediately and after a few minutes Mara spoke first.
“We don’t understand, Ryan. Sorry, you seem to be a bit upset. But we’re in Africa now and we understand that it’s okay to wear little or no clothes here because it’s so hot. We see pictures of topless ladies dancing in grass skirts and families living together just with a small cloth as a covering. Nudity is acceptable here isn’t it?”
“No!” I replied. "In Africa the dress is determined by each country as well as the occasion but generally one needs to wear a skirt or shorts and a top on most occasions and especially in public like this.
"What you have seen is only on special or unusual occasions. Those topless ladies with the grass skirts are in traditional dress ready to dance before the king for a special occasion. They are all un-married maidens.
"The people who only have a cloth around their waists are Bushmen who live in the desert. That is their life style. But should they ever come to the towns they would be wearing clothes as well.
"In Malawi for example, the women wear long dresses and must have their shoulders covered. The men cannot wear shorts when they enter a place of worship. Even Africa’s beaches are not nudist beaches. But don’t worry there will be plenty of opportunities for you to go naked if that’s what you want to do?”
They both sighed with relief and Ria said, “We’ve come to have fun and be free in the bush, Ryan, with you, because you are so highly recommended”
“Thank you, ladies. As soon as we get to camp and unpack we need to sit down and I will explain how I propose we operate over the next few weeks.” They smiled in acknowledgement.
Earlier that morning I was able to select the quietest and most private camp site on a boundary corner where we were going to spend our first night. I set up my pup tent and ground sheet for the vehicles outdoor area as well.
Their surprise was clearly visible as I pulled up next to the tent. Mara was the first to comment.
“Ryan, someone is already here?” she observed.
“Yes I know. It’s us,” I replied, reversing into position. “Ladies, I’ll leave you to unpack and get comfortable in your new home whilst I arrange a few things outside where sun-downers will be served, with clothes on please!” I winked and stepped out.
I pressed the remote awning button, coupled-up the electrical power supply, placed the chez lounges and tables in place and took the pink champagne out of the cooler as well as my coke.
They appeared soon afterwards looking a little stressed.
Ria looked around and started.
“Ryan, this is great. You are extremely organized and professional.”
“Please stop,” I said. “I first need to welcome you to Africa and its amazing wild side and I trust that your visit will be an unforgettable one that meets all your expectations and more.”
I handed out the pink champagne and held up my coke toasting their holiday. They looked at me even more confused than ever, took a sip, and Ria continued, “Ryan, thank you, but as I was saying you are very professional, as we can see, and very organized but that is not what we want.”
My jaw fell open. I could not believe what I was hearing.
She continued, “We have come to relax, have a good time and enjoy whatever we see in the African bush. We have made extensive enquiries about you and your highly recommended tours. So we are very satisfied to say that we don’t want you to be our tour guide but rather our friend to join us on our holiday.
"Yes, we would like you to show us the right places, choose the camp sites, and guide us through the rules and regulations in a foreign country. But we don’t want you sleeping outside in a tent by yourself or drinking coke while we are having champagne. How can we be expected to have a good time?
"We like what we have seen so far, especially on the way here,” she quipped with a huge twinkle in her eye, “but we need you to join us, please?” and held out her arms to emphasise her point.
I put up a hand, after looking down, and taking a deep breath and replied,
“Ladies, thank you, but there is a problem. I am a professional guide. I have accepted your money for employing my services I need to deliver what I promised to do in a professional way. We cannot change our arrangement otherwise we must cancel our contract and refund your money.”
“Well let’s do that!” Mara chirped, “because we want to pay you more. Yes, USD 500 per day, if you agree!”
I was now more confused than ever.
She continued, “We want you to do everything with us. We will pay, but you must sleep inside, share our food and drinks, and just take us to the right places. Please, Ryan, we just want to have fun. All three of us, together!”
I was trapped! What now?
I graciously thanked them for their generosity but could not accede to their request unless I discarded my khakis, which they eagerly offered to remove immediately, as well as all traces of Africa Bush Safaris including the removable vehicle stickers.
In final protest I embarrassingly revealed that I had not packed any casual gear thinking that I had now presented an inarguable case. But they instantly dismissed that.
“Ryan, we’d love to buy you some casual clothes of our choice, when we stop for our supplies tomorrow.”
Mara beamed, poured a glass of champagne and handed it to me.
After a light supper at the camp restaurant, the girls rushed me back to our motorhome. They hustled me inside in spite of me emphasising that they should utilize the last opportunity of first class ablutions on site.
They insisted on using the vehicles, where all three of us could bathe together!
(to be continued Part II)
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com
with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/reluctance/into-africa-with-a-scandanavian-flavour.aspx">Into Africa with a Scandanavian Flavour</a>