And then, I came to a store with the name "KwaZulu!" over the door in large black-red-green letters.There were various types of Africana in the window... Kente cloth, tools and implements, a painted Zulu shield, a spear with a wicked-looking point. Next to the spear, an exquisitely carved wooden mask. I have more than a passing interest in Africana, so I opened the door and entered the shop, to the accompaniment of a clanging bell.The only person in the shop was a young woman in her mid-twenties.. I learned my lesson about three years into our marriage when he had started drinking on a nightly basis. I learned that anything in the way of him and pussy including clothes and bed sheets could infuriate him. I paid dearly that night with a black eye and a missing tooth. I continued my ritual of getting ready for this drunken bastard by getting out the lube from my bedside table and putting it all over my finger than inserting it deep into my vagina. After swishing it around and making sure. More

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