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Chapter 29

Qondani Sibisi

It's not everyday that a woman of your dreams slides into your Facebook direct messages and initiates a conversation. Lord knows that he emptied all his English to her. He pressed all the right buttons. It was impossible for her not to fall for the Sibisi charm.
He unlocks his phone and stares at the nude pictures she sent him the previous night. His member is bouncing up at the sight of her bare curvy body. He wraps his hand around it and gives it a few strokes while scrolling down for her video.

3pm seems to be days away. He can hardly wait to have her in his arms.
He shuts his eyes and lets his imagination take him under her skirts. His shaft is swelling as his mind draws a picture of her lying in front of him with her legs widely opened displaying her cookie-jar in full view.
“Zamafuze!” he groans and quickens the pace of his hand around his hard shaft. Knots break in his body as he releases and creampies his own hand.
Well damn. He's too old for this. What is this girl doing to him? He takes a walk of shame to the bathroom and stands under the cold shower.
He doesn't earn much but he affords to live and take care of his parents and kids. Two years ago he managed to get himself a second-hand Nissan van. It takes him everywhere he wants to go and that's what cars were made for.
He has a two-bedroom house in Township and he can afford a warm meal everyday. That's life he's comfortable and grateful. The comparison between him and his uncle's children has never bothered him. Him and Ndondo were destined for different things. He's happy that he's made it this far in life.
--
It's just half an hour away from 3pm and he needs to fetch Zamafuze from town. He tried to make the house look neat and comfortable. He bought new curtains and beddings. He has hidden all his ugly food containers and took out the new cutlery his mother forced him to take.
He slides into his Adidas tracksuit and makes his way out. He was transparent with her hopefully nothing about him is going to surprise her. They had a strong connection right away. Well her body may have been the first thing that attracted him to her but as they continued to chat he fell in love with her as a person. She sounded like someone who has experienced enough shit in her life who is now ready to settle down.

Recognizing her wouldn't be hard. He drives to the Engen garage where she said she was standing. His eyes land on her before he even parks his van. She's wearing a beige dress and knee-length boots. Next to her is a large suitcase and two bags. His forehead furrows they didn't talk about large bags he thought this was a weekend visit.

He finds a good spot and parks his van. He takes one glance at his reflection through the mirror and climbs out.
“Zamafuze?” he says behind her.
She turns around with a frown on her face. Her eyes scan him from head to toe then she flashes a smile.
“Qondani right?” She puts the purse on top of the suitcase and pulls him into a hug.
“Mntakwethu. I hope I didn't keep you here for too long. You look more beautiful in person.”
She blushes and looks away for a second. He picks the suitcase and one bag she takes the remaining ones and they head to the van.
“This is Mshini. He's not fancy but he takes me wherever I want to go. Let me put your bags in the back.” 
Zamafuze gets in the front and runs her eyes around the interior. Wow! This isn't even a downgrade. It's a straight downfall!

Qondani closes the back door and rushes to the front. He's still in awe. All this beauty belongs to him!
“You're so beautiful” he's staring at her in complete disbelief. He watches girls like this on TV even if he bumps into one in town he never approaches them because they're out of his league.
“So you're not even going to greet your man?” he teases deep down he wants to taste her red-painted lips and caress her soft-looking beautiful skin.
“I will greet you Sibisi. Thoroughly and properly.” Her eyes drop down to his chest and navigates down to his pant.
He holds his breath and prays that his thudding heartbeat isn't visible through his chest. Thoroughly and properly? What is that supposed to mean? This woman mustn't come all the way from Durban to turn his life upside down.
“I can't wait” he says his voice kept low and steady. His moistening hands turn on the engine and grip on the steering wheel.
“I didn't trust you. I thought you were bluffing when you said you'd visit me” he says.
“Now you trust me?” she asks.
He chuckles his nerves are back in place.
“I trust you mntakwethu” he says.
“I hope it stays that way. I took risk by coming here to a man I've never met that should prove to you that I'm not here for anything else but for your heart.”
“I appreciate that and I promise you won't regret this.”
“Ngiyabonga Mahlase Zibisi zikaSishaka”
There's a smile he's refusing to let out. She goes on and chants his clan names; “Bhovungana…Nsuku kaMagawula.”
He brushes and lets his smile out.
--

He has brought many girls over his house but none of them were on Zamafuze’s level. He has to make sure that everything is perfect. He doesn't want her to regret this.
“Are you happy?” he asks staring at her as she scans her eyes around the house.
“What are you going to do if I'm not happy?” she asks with a grin.
“Your happiness matters to me” he says.
She exhales and looks around one more time.
“Maybe we can do some renovations.”
Oh! He wasn't referring to the house itself. He was talking about the curtains pots and all those unimportant things that women care about.
“Well I cannot renovate this house because I'm just sheltering my head here. I'm originally from Nyandeni that's where my father's house is. If I want a bigger house I'd definitely build it there for my kids.”
“Oh….I see.” She's nodding her head slowly with a specific look on her face.
“We should put the bags in the bedroom” he says.
“Right? I hope your wardrobe is big enough to take my clothes” she says.
“You brought a lot of them” Qondani says with a fake chuckle. What is going on here? So many bags for a weekend!
“I don't know how long I'm going to be here. I just want to get to know you better and lucky me your house needs a woman.”
Is it? He leads the way to the bedroom and puts the suitcase on the floor. He has to take out some of his clothes because this wardrobe is not going to be enough for both of them.

Arms wrap around his waist as he fishes his clothes out of the wardrobe. He looks at her with a slight frown- how did she take her dress off so quickly? His eyes are on her swollen breasts popping out of her bra.
“As promised I want to greet you properly.” Her hands are running down his chest and the heat is shamefully going straight down to Sibisi.
“Ngiyaphila” he says before she even ask and Zamafuze breaks a short chuckle.
“I didn't ask Sibisi. I will check for myself. I'm not a nurse but….” She shoves her hand beneath his track pant and weighs his manhood. He just stands there like a statue not sure how to react to this wildness.
Zamafuze swallows hard as the underwear contents fill up his hand. She’s heard about extra-large men and they are said to come from Nigeria. Ndabuko is an average- di£ked man who is gifted with action. That man introduced her to many things and among them are orgasms and squirts. Qondani seems to be a complete different case. Yes he did brag and threatened to rip her apart over the phone. But it looks like he's one of those men who think that sex is the penis going through the vagina and nothing else.
“MaFuze let me undress and…” She shuts him with a sloppy kiss. Really? Men have been shifting our panties aside and shoving themselves in for decades.
She pushes down his trackpant and wraps her hand around his giant.
As his breaths pick a pace she drops down on her knees and pulls his underwear down to his ankles with his pant.
“Zamafuze this is not a movie. Ngeke ukwazi ukukhotha ubudoda bami!” (You cannot lick my manhood!)
“You will have your chance to speak Sibisi” Zamafuze says and tenderly massages his balls.
It's long thick and black. He's not standing still. He's uncomfortable. Zamafuze presses her tongue on the tip before licking around the head.
“Zamafuze what are you doing?” A groan follows his question. The girl pulls his whole shaft inside her mouth. It balances back in her throat and he lets out a sharp scream; “Hhayi bo!!”

She licks his shaft sucks the tip massages his balls and slips her finger through the crack of his firm buttocks.
He's literally screaming his lungs out. Neighbours have to forgive because wow.
“I can't lick your manhood

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right?” Zamafuze asks with his shaft below her lips.
He's trembling.
“Khotha baby!”
A man of his word right? She chuckles and sweeps her tongue over his balls.
This man is going to faint! He needs to be in control of his breaths. His shaft is back inside her mouth.
He feels the wave building up and his hands grab her head and bring it closer to his waist.
“It's about to rain Zamafuze!” he warns on top of his voice.
She needs to let him go because…No! It's coming. She needs to let go of him before something disgusting happens. It's coming!
“Zamafuze it's raining!” Well it rains right through her mouth. He did warn her.

He floats in a moment before opening his eyes to look at the damage he did.
What…?
“Zamafuze where are my…?” 
“Your sperms? I swallowed them Sibisi. You taste great.”
She gets off the floor pecks his cheek and finds her way to the bathroom.
He falls on his back on the bed and shuts his eyes. His legs are still trembling. What is this woman doing to him? 
.
.
NDONDO

I'm in this house more often now. I don't know if he tricks me or I'm the one who just loves his attention.
Maybe it's because he cooks better than me and Andiswa. When I'm here I'm a well-fed woman in every possible way.
He walks back from his phone call and climbs on bed.
“Guess what?” Is he the new Bahle now? I don't have time for guess games. We've had enough surprises this past week. Snakho and Snalo are Ngidi's daughters and on top of that Maqhinga slept with Snalo. It's a mess! I thought my life had turmoils but it seems like the Ngidis surpass me.
“Ngonyama is retiring” he says.
I guess he's talking about the taxi business that's Ngidi's taxi rank name.
“Why?” I ask.
“He says he wants to focus on his family. He's letting go of the chairman position and leaving Ndlalifa in charge of all operations.”
That's a great thing. The taxi war was getting boring and it could've ended with one of them dead.
“You don't look happy for him” I say.
“I'm happy. He's been in the industry for too long and he deserves a break. But honestly I'm scared. This means we are on our own” he says.
“You'll be fine sthandwa sami. You've been there for a couple of years and Ndlalifa will be there if you need anything” I say.
He scratches the side of his face. What is it now? I narrow my eye at him.
“Talk” I say.
“Things are about to go back to normal. Full taxi operations. There's something I need to discuss with Ndlalifa and Maqhinga urgently.”
Urgh I should've known! 
“How long will you be gone?” I ask.
“Thirty minutes. I promise” he says and lowers his head to me and kisses my lips.
He picks up his jean from the floor and puts it on. Is it possible to crave for a man's presence during the pregnancy? I'm holding back tears I don't want him to leave but I can't break down because that would be very childish of me.
“Don't fall asleep. Remember you owe me One” he says.
I force a smile and watch as he slips in his T-shirt and grabs his phone from the bedside pedestal.
“I love you Hlasekazi.” He sucks my lower lip and playfully pokes my cheek before dashing to the door.

Now it's just me and the remaining smell of his cologne. If I was in my house I'd be on cuddled on the couch with Andiswa and watching her Korean series.
Oh snap! I haven't spoken to my problematic brother in a while. With Bahle and Andiswa I'm always trying to correct wrong and right. In a nutshell I'm always trying to control them. But Qondani is fully grown almost my age with him I let my hair down and get crazy with him.
His phone rings unanswered. I try for the second time and he answers just as I'm about to give up.
“Brother” I say.
Heavy breaths!
I hear him groaning and my heart starts racing.
“Qondani are you okay?” I ask.
Silence…
“Qondani?” -me.
A lady screams out his name. My forehead grows into a frown. What the hell is going on here?
“Ulibrasha kamnandi isende mntakwethu….” WTF!
I end the call quickly and throw the phone away. What the hell!
But why am I surprised? It's just like Qondani to answer calls during sex.

I need a glass of warm milk. I can't believe my brother has traumatized me like this. I put on Ndabuko's gown slide into my sleepers and make my way out of the bedroom.
I know Ndabuko won't take thirty minutes there's a lot going on Maqhinga is not in a good space so him and Ndlalifa are investing a lot of time in making sure that he's okay. This urgent meeting may escalate into him having a few drinks with Maqhinga and coming back around midnight.

My heart is always heavy when I'm walking past Nhlanzeko's bedroom. I don't know why the door is always closed. Ndabuko doesn't care to turn the lights on even for a few minutes.
I stop a few feet away from it. I know where the keys are and I have this urge to walk inside just to turn the light on for a few minutes. I know that Ndabuko would lose his mind if he found me doing this.

I unlock the door and push it. I reach up the wall and turn on the light. My heart eases as his room brightens up. His picture is staring at me from the wall. There's a lot of dust lying on it. I look around and my eyes land on a toilet paper roll. I roll a few sheets pull down the picture frame and wipe it.
I wish Ndabuko can allow cleaners to come here and tidy up as well. There's dust all over the surfaces. Unfortunately I cannot do much about it. I put his picture back in its place and walk to his wardrobe.

The leather jacket is at the front in a green hanger. I can't help a smile stretching from my face. This man had no style or whatsoever. Where did he buy this jacket and why did he love it so much?
There's a mirror on the wall but I can only see a shadow of myself behind that dust.
I try the jacket on the sleeves are too big but I can wear it. I push my hands inside the pockets and try to peek at my reflection on the mirror.

Oh there's a piece of paper. I take it out and curiously unfold it.
Eeeer! Is this how he wrote? He wrote his name like a 12year old. Or maybe he wrote this when he was 12. It's a piece of those brownish jotter exercise books.
I check the other side and there are two drawn human figures with a soccer ball between them. Next to each figure is a name; Ndabuko and Nhlanzeko. So this man had a horrible handwriting he couldn't draw like other boys and he loved ugly leather jackets? I laugh and shake my head. Love is a strange thing.
“Ndondo” the voice comes from the door.
I jump up in fear. He's here? I thought he'd be with Maqhinga and Ndlalifa for a while. Gosh! I'm wearing Nhlanzeko's jacket. What am I even doing here?

He walks in. When his brother is involved Ndabuko becomes a different person. It's a scary thing to watch. My heart is beating hard against my chest. My mouth has turned dry instantly.
“What are you doing here?” His cold eyes are fixed on me.
“I was…I thought…Ndabuko it's not what you think. I was just curious and I came here.”
“Curiosity got you in this thing?” He's asking about the jacket. He's disgusted!
I take it off quickly and hurry to the wardrobe to put it back. I really didn't mean to spoil our night. I have no intentions to fuel whatever hatred there's between him and his dead brother.
He's glaring at me as I shamefully walk back to him.
His eyes shift to something on the floor. The piece of paper! 
“I found it in the pockets. I swear I didn't…”
“Pick it up!”
I don't need him to tell me twice. I bend down and pick it up. He grabs it from my hands and unfolds it.
“What is this?” Gosh I refuse to think that he thinks I'm writing love letters to his brother in heaven!
“I don't know” I say.
He turns the paper back and stares at the ugly drawings.
Is he going to stare at it for the whole hour? In grade 3 I drew better people than his brother.

He walks to the bed and sinks down on it. It's dirty! His people don't change this bed.
“I don't remember him playing soccer ever” he says.
Now we are talking?
“Maybe he wanted to but never got a chance. First-born responsibilities” I say tilting my head to the side.
He doesn't care. I don't think he even heard me. His whole attention is on a piece of paper.
“He drew us on a piece of paper playing soccer?!” It sounds like he's trying to let this sink in his head.
He lifts his eyes to me. Oh no why is he like this now? Where are the flames of anger?
“There's a heart at the bottom” he says.
Oh I didn't see it.
Wait is he shedding tears?

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