An old anti‑poaching watchtower, now used for storage. She’s a ranger’s daughter; she has a key. You climb the metal stairs. At the top, a single mattress, a pair of binoculars, and her.
“My dad works the night shift,” she says, unzipping her khaki shirt. “He won’t be back until dawn.”
She pushes you onto the mattress, kneels, and takes you in her mouth. The radio on the table crackles. “Base to Tower 3.” She ignores it.
She straddles you, rides you while the savannah darkens. A lion roars. She clenches. The radio crackles again. She speeds up. She comes with a cry that the lion answers. You follow, pulsing into her as the tower sways.
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She hands you the binoculars. “Next time, we watch the animals while they watch us.”
Kenya
Nigeria