Lambert’s Pants , Inheritance


We stood side by side in the dim lights beside the canal. The pastor intoned the sacred words from his red book, solemnising the union that had started as a liaison many years before on a different continent. Had I listened to the backward opinions around me, I would never have arrived at this moment. Let me tell you something about that.

I was born in Rwanda in central Africa. It is a land known for being very hilly, a high population density, and the genocide that happened when I was a little child. I know as much as about the genocide you do, from having read about it. I grew up in an orphanage so I never knew whom my parents were. On Sundays they used to take us to the church whose members used to come to visit us frequently. It was only natural that we belonged to the Sunday School there, and when we became teenagers were absorbed into the youth choir. In time two or three of us girls somehow slid into the largest choir of the seven that church was host to.

I began to realise that some of the members of this choir were wealthy people, when I heard others talk about them. One was a building engineer whose son began to take an interest in me. A little later he was found to have impregnated one of the girls from my orphanage. I was deeply hurt that my dream of belonging to a big family by marriage was snuffed out so soon, almost before it began.

One day in March there was great excitement in not just our choir, but the whole church was astir. A parish in far-away Nairobi had invited us to visit them. A committee was put together to organise this exciting trip to that country we thought of as almost being European. We had been told that the city of Nairobi was so large that our own capital could sink into it several times over. It was said that the buildings were so tall that you could not see the top of them. This was hard for me to imagine. Then the committee announced that each member would need to pay their way; the amount involved meant that I and the other orphanage girls were out. But the church minister welcomed those more able to pay a little extra to cover for those who may not be able to put up the full amount. Even putting up a small amount was beyond our reach.

One evening as we left a practice session the chairman of the organising committee pulled me to one side.

“Have you found anyone to support you for the Nairobi trip?” He sounded completely unaware of my situation. Where would I have got even the small amount to qualify as one who deserved support?

I shook my head mutely in great sadness. The full import of my predicament then seemed to sink into his mind.

“How would it make you feel if I paid 50% of the amount so that you qualify for assistance?” he said next. Despite this being an idiot question to my mind, I tried my hardest to be polite.

He was so wealthy according to the stories I had heard, that he could very easily have paid the full amount, maybe even pay for another of the orphanage girls while he was at it.

“That would be very welcome, Mr. Lambert.”

During the next meeting when my name was read out as having completed half, even the minister sounded surprised by her own words. Many members looked behind at me in wonder. I tried my best to keep a straight face, and I must have succeeded. I did not even glance in the direction of the chairman.

How the committee decided who deserved help I never discovered, but a fortnight before departure the names of those who had paid up included my own. Trying to hold myself in control, I still felt warmth spread through my being. It was all due what Mr. Lambert had done for me. I had never been outside our city of Kigali and now, because of him I was on my way to Nairobi! It was said the journey would take two days. Excitement built in my being with each passing minute. At the end of the meeting, I sought my benefactor out as he headed to his left-hand drive metallic-blue Mercedes.

“May I speak to you, Mr. Lambert?”

He turned round with a startled look on his face but when he saw it was I he relaxed. “Yes of course. What is on your mind?”

I grasped his hand in both of mine, even though I really wanted to hug him bodily. I am a short person all of 5 foot two inches tall, while he is nearly six feet. “I am very grateful for what you have done for me. Now I will go on this mission trip, thanks to you!” I held the hand tighter.

I was startled in my turn to feel his free arm around my shoulders as he pulled me closer to him. “No, my dear Bria, it is my great pleasure. After all you heard Rev. Therese announcing that those who felt able should add to the amount they paid to help those who need it. I wanted you to benefit from that kitty.” Thus did I end up in the hug I had hungered for. I did not want it to end, and I felt my pussy throb with desire.

His next words surprised me more than I could have expected. “Do you have a travelling bag?” I wondered how he expected me to own such an article.

“No, Mr. Lambert,” I said more into his chest than his face.

“Do you know my office in City Plaza?” I nodded and he went Escort Bayan on, “Come over there day after tomorrow at 11 o’clock.” With that he let go of me gently.

“Good night Mr. Lambert!” I wanted to be with him longer but the time to part had come.

On the appointed day and hour I was at the appointed place. I discovered that he wanted me to collect a set of matching travelling bags of a grey, green and light brown pattern. There were three of different sizes. When I got back to the orphanage, I asked the sister in charge to stow them away for me until the day of travel or the one before to allow me pack my few clothes. I was not even sure I would fill the larger of the bags; I thought I would use the smallest of them as hand luggage to put my smaller belongings.

The day of departure arrived sooner than I expected. The night before I hardly got any sleep, what with numerous butterflies in my tummy. Admiration of Mr. Lambert combined with an attraction in my heart. I felt a strange desire I could not explain even to myself: to have Mr Lambert’s baby.


Nearly twenty-four hours after our journey started we were nearing the city of Nairobi. It had taken me by great surprise that two hours had elapsed by the time we got to the border with Uganda, but the whole night was spent before we got to that country’s capital and a further three hours before the border with Kenya. How could one country be so large? Since crossing the border from our country the traffic kept to the left, confusing me greatly. I was glad I was not the one driving. Seeing oncoming traffic in the wrong direction would surely be the cause of a horrible accident!

I was not prepared for how long it would take us to traverse Kenya! From the border we just kept going and going. It seemed the journey would never come to an end. Towards evening something in the lighting told me we were approaching a very big town, unlike the others we had passed on the way, but rather like I had felt when we approached Kampala. All of us were dog-tired by this time and all we wanted was to get off this bus and get back onto solid ground.

The street lights seemed to become brighter and the buildings taller. There were more cars on the roads, which to my mind confirmed that whatever we were approaching was big. I overheard Mr. Lambert speaking with someone on the phone that we were almost in Nairobi city. But looking out of the window I clearly saw the makings of a city. What could they mean that we were not yet there? What did it look like in the city proper, then? Traffic lights stopped us in the middle of a huge jam. Even when they let us through, the bus could only move slowly in the thick of traffic in this wonderful place. I saw very tall buildings to my left as the bus turned towards the right at a roundabout, which I thought we took the wrong way, before I remembered that they kept left here, unlike home where we went anticlockwise into a roundabout.

Finally the bus drove into a gate and we felt a relief. We had finally arrived. My bum was aching from all that sitting as well as my back hurting, I suppose from holding me upright for so long. Our hosts treated us like kings and queens advising us not to bother with our bags as we climbed down from the bus. As soon as my feet touched the ground I felt so good that I will not be in that swinging, unsteady platform, at least for another two days.

We were taken to a large hall where we were each given a present. The man who called out our names made us laugh almost every time with his funny pronunciation. Then they took us to dinner. The food looked and smelt delicious but they served us with spoons like little children. Don’t they know how to eat properly with forks, like adults? Indeed some of the older people had been unable to start eating despite being hungry; they felt insulted by our hosts. It took the patience of our minister to explain that people here normally ate with spoons and that forks were only used in very formal settings. The people thus mollified, our meal could go ahead.

In short we stayed for three days with our delightful hosts. They seemed to anticipate our every need. They even pampered our curiosity about the new superhighway that had recently been built. They took us on a tour to see one of the interchanges; that left my head spinning with the traffic seeming to be going in so many different directions at the same time!

Of course we enjoyed worshipping at the grand church which had a pipe organ. I had only ever heard of things like that before but now heard its grand music accompanying their beautiful choir. I made a number of friends in that time. Mr. Lambert’s tall figure was always visible to me as he was in constant touch with the hosts; I too tried to compensate for my lack of height by sitting as near the front as I could. My friend Clem and two other girls were given that task of performing the special traditional dances that accompanied some of the songs we presented in our turn.

At a farewell dinner on the evening before we left, I managed to catch Mr. Lambert Ankara Escort behind one of the canopies. He was pleasantly surprised by my hug from behind him. I thanked him for making it possible for me to be on this trip. If only I were taller I would have tried to kiss him.

All too soon it was time for us to leave and endure that horrendously long journey on the way back. But it went off uneventfully, lasting just short of twenty-four hours. I was amazed anew that it took nearly a day to get to the Kenyan border, and a similar length of time to cross Uganda to the Rwandan border, yet it was only two hours to the capital. How small our country was, compared to her neighbours!

My feelings for Mr. Lambert were getting almost too strong for me to bear. Every time I met him at choir practice I wanted to sit with him, talk to him and enjoy being close to him. Of course that was not always possible. I even began catching glances from some of the single women, which seemed unfriendly. I did not understand why they would be that way, since they had been with him in this choir while we were still Sunday School children. I ached for him to ask me out for a coffee, so that I could have him all to myself. But probably he was being careful for his reputation and position in the choir and church; very likely he thought about his marriage too. His eyes however betrayed an opposite, but suppressed desire.

A small group was required to travel some forty kilometres to the east to our partner church, where we had established a mission to support them build a music ministry. This trip was to deliver and present a keyboard to replace their ageing one. Surprisingly I was picked to be in the group of three, led by Mr. Lambert. A day before we were set to leave, the other member of our triumvirate went down with malaria. The choir committee tried frantically to find a replacement for her, but nobody could be found at such short notice. I did not learn of this until the morning of departure.

I found Mr. Lambert in his car at the church parking lot. As soon as I got in he drove off.

“Where is Claudine? Are we leaving her?”

“She fell ill, and could not come.” Then he told me of the efforts of the previous afternoon.

An excitement spread through me at the thought that I now had Mr. Lambert all to myself for the trip. My mind spun with the possibilities of what we would do out there among people unknown to us. The drive was relatively short, but I had made sure I had a short skirt which showed off my shapely legs, and quite a bit of thigh as I sat in the passenger seat of his Mercedes.

“So you made friends in Nairobi,” he teased me.

“Oh, yes I did. We have been writing to each other since I returned home. They might even visit. I also made a special friend on that trip.” He turned his head towards me in a quick glance which registered surprise and maybe a twinge of jealousy.

“Who?” His voice trembled slightly with emotion. I suspected his heart was beating faster. Oh, how glad this made me, to think he could have strong feelings for me!

A wicked desire to torture his mind seized me. “Shall I tell you on our way back? Yes, that is for the best.” I was goading him to beg me to tell him my secret.

He made as if to say something, thought the better of it and returned his concentration to the road. In a short while we came off the highway and it was only a short distance to the church. The presentation went flawlessly, except that I had to make a little speech, something I was very unused to doing. I hoped I did not sound very silly!

They had made lunch for the visitors, expecting four of us (where did they get that number from?) Mr. Lambert pulled two of their deacons to join us, the minister and the elders. He announced that they would represent the missing visitors! A jolt of fear fed by jealousy shot through me, then I quietened my spirit that there will only be two of us in his car; we could decide to stop anywhere in between for a drink, which I badly wanted to suggest. But I desisted knowing he would end up paying for them.

As soon as we started off again I made bold and laid my palm on his leg, which shocked him. He made a good show of hiding it but did not manage to conceal it altogether. In fact some pleasure sneaked through as well.

“That went well, I think!” said I, while letting my palm graze all along his thigh from the knee.

“I enjoyed it all the more knowing I will have you in the car on the way back.”

I gasped at his meaning. He acted like I had misinterpreted his words but gave a low laugh. I kept up the ‘ironing’ of his thigh as he swung the car onto the highway. Some kilometres along he slowed down, causing me to throw him a look.

“There is a nice hotel here we could stop for a drink,” he said calmly. Oh, so he had modified his original idea of fucking me in his car!

I voted with my lips. They stayed sealed. ‘Silence means consent’. He drove for a few metres on a rough road before turning in to a very secure compound with high gates. The drive was paved and lined Ankara Escort Bayan with flowering bushes. Beyong the shrubs the grass was mowed so evenly that it reminded me of a golfing green. He parked against the wall of the hotel building and led me inside. We were shown to the restaurant and a table deep inside. The lighting, even though it was still afternoon, was low. Near our table there was an artificial fountain, warbling peacefully. I immediately felt at home.

“What will you have? I have ordered a pot of coffee.” I replied I would have a pot of tea.

“We are on a date at last,” I said.

“No, this is a mission for the church,” he said with a wicked twinkle in his eye.

“Yeah, right!” I shot back.

Then he delivered his shocker. “Are you doing anything tomorrow morning?” I was sure he meant we would not be back to the city before then. My pussy set up a most horrible throbbing.

“Yes,” I said, and watched his face fall. “I am having breakfast in bed with you.”

He brightened again. “And I will have had dinner with you right here!”

You can imagine what a wonderful night we had after that dinner. He took me up to the room and undressed me quickly and efficiently, then pulled off his own in the same manner. He pulled me into the shower stark naked. I was almost jumping up and down with excitement, seeing him naked with me, about to take a shower.

We did.

Then we went into the bedroom and sat on the bed as if we did not know where to start. My hand returned to his thigh, only this time it was naked. He hugged me sideways just like he had done weeks ago, before the Nairobi trip. Before long we were in each other’s eager arms. I felt his manly breath in my face as he came to kiss me. I looked down and saw his erection and trembled slightly in fear of it. He was big, and I wondered how I was going to take all of him. In his gentle way, he explored my tits, kissed me tenderly bringing me to the boil very easily. Then he pulled back, looked into my eyes before pushing me gently onto my back and rolling beside me to give me more of those kisses.

Slowly he climbed onto the bed and I caught sight of his dong swinging between his legs. He really was going to give me all of that! I was torn between wanting to feel it invading my flesh, and fearing he would tear me. But I felt that hardness against my lips, flinched as he began pushing his thick pipe into me. I was wet enough that he could slide the head in. Then he pulled the head out and pushed gently back inside.

This time I felt his nut get past my lips and start expanding my walls as he gained inch after inexorable inch. The pain I had expected was not as intense as I had imagined. With it, however, came a feeling so good to be possessed by this man whom I had admired and desired for so long. All the time that I felt him digging deeper, I kept expecting a shot of pain but apart from being stretched beyond my normal, the discomfort was minimal.

He pulled back a little and pushed in again, out a little and then in. I felt that he had hit the bottom on my pussy. Then he set up a constant rhythm, in and out, driving me so high in ecstasy that soon I was lost to this world. The pleasure mounted so strongly that I was consumed by a violent heat starting in my centre and spreading throughout my being. I might have screamed, bucked my hips or scratched his back, but I have no idea at this moment.

What seemed a long time afterwards, I opened my eyes to find Lambert staring into my eyes with such kindness that my heart lurched. The feelings I had harboured for a long time took the name love at that precise moment. I wanted to encircle his body but my short arms barely reached his shoulder blades. I felt tears rolling down the side of my face towards my ears. He pulled out of my cunt slowly as if he thought he might peel away some of my flesh. Finally he was out with a plop.

We lay in each other’s arms for a time before our lust mounted again. This time he fucked me even more slowly intensifying my pleasure a hundredfold. I exploded again without being aware of where I was. It was when I came back to earth that I became aware of my surroundings, which included Lambert.

We had one another many times that night, and in the morning fulfilled our promise of breakfast in bed. I avoided talking about his marriage throughout, because he did not come out with it. We rode into town at midmorning and he dropped me at the orphanage gate. I was ecstatic that I was nearer to having my child with Lambert than ever before. I resolved to be very careful of my conduct so as not endanger that. In my mind’s eye could see us together long into the future.


My son was born ten months after the ‘mission’ trip. We had become lovers who could barely stay away from each other. I had caught mention of trouble with his wife, but he never talked about it. Then we heard that she had taken her children with her to France for a holiday. They never returned to Rwanda. The birth caused quite a stir among our friends as some suspected our liaison. I even received a reproach of sorts from a woman who had caught the yes of a Kenyan man on our mission to that country, now happily settled with him in Nairobi. She asked me on Facebook, “Have you never settled down? Now you have taken another man’s wife from her!”

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