The long road to Cullaville

Stories from my travels to every country in the world

Chapter 7
Spanish angels
[Gabon&Equatoriaal Guinea, 2013]

Now that I’m walking behind her, I can take a closer look at the woman. Her legs seem even longer than they really are because of the black miniskirt she is wearing and the stilettos pushing her heels upward. Her body is undeniably graceful. Caramel-coloured and slim built. Long, black hair that almost touches her bottom. The exotic attraction of a woman of mixed descent. I follow her across the car park of the CKDO, Libreville's biggest shopping mall. Her hips make a continuous circular movement. Sometimes she stops and turns her head towards me; her black eyes urge me to follow and she makes a small gesture with her fingers whenever she thinks I’m hesitating.

She directs me to a black car with tinted windows. She unlocks the doors, chases a white poodle from the seat and gets behind the wheel. I take the passenger seat. After we close the doors, she turns to me and bends over, making her breasts fall halfway out of her black blouse. Despite the air conditioning blowing icy coolness through her car at full blast, I feel myself getting increasingly hot.