Sometimes we sit back and reminisce about a certain past. Deep thoughts about the most important moments, the paths we took that changed the course of time, our course of time. Now, I sit down and think about those important turns I took that defined my journey. Yes, I spend most of my days thinking about a past that I can’t possibly change. Yet, it’s hard not to. What if I hadn’t met… Ok, it doesn’t really make a difference now. I can’t stop though, even when I know it’s insignificance. I guess I’ll just have to keep writing and telling my story. It soothes me sometimes, it brings me succor. However, at other times, I just want to end it all.
I stood up with great enthusiasm and waltzed into the bathroom. Shaved off some overgrowths and made a mohawk of my finely curled hair, down below. Hehe, I’ve always wanted to do it and I rode in the euphoria of his text to actually shape it out nicely. I had loosened out my braids and I proceeded to plait my full hair into a certain ponytail. Oh, I didn’t tell you about my hair? Wheew, simply put, it’s gorgeous. Black, full, curly and soft. I mean, sometimes I don’t even have to attach artificial hair to get a ‘spine-long’ braid sometimes.
Out of the bathroom after about 39 minutes, I knew I had to be fast about dressing up cos the time was spinning quickly. My parents would be back by 4pm, give or take and I surely had to be home. I smiled as I checked myself out in the mirror. I always do that, even now, hehe, I enjoy staring at my own mammoth behind.
I’ve been saving a new pink lacy thong for my birthday but I was tempted to put it on. Yeah, it had a matched brassiere, equally lacy, which served to push up my breasts slightly. I put on a purple flowery dress, simple, too simple, so I yanked it off! I quickly rummaged through the ‘just-bought’ section of my wardrobe and I finally found my favorite, low hanging see-through chiffon top. Skirt or denim? That was the next conundrum. Fifteen minutes later, with minimal make up on, I closed the gate behind me and started on the three minutes walk to the front of the huge duplex with my butt swaying comfortably in my grey pencil skirt.
I tapped gently at the beautifully crafted black gate and it swung open almost instantly. The smartly dressed young gateman opened it widely for me and motioned for me to come in. He must have been told of my impending arrival because he had this smart smile on his face. He had an Hausa accent, heavily built and was quite towering. I was intimidated in his presence and I cowered behind him as he led me to the entrance of the house.
The compound was beautiful, the walkway we took was bordered on either side by rows of professionally trimmed flower beds. Large areas of the compound were covered with smooth, almost glowing carpet grasses, thick enough to hide a coin. The motor way leading to the extensive garages was well covered with asphalt, the only part of the compound not green. Oh, and that fountain, exquisite. I saw two peacocks with their tails proudly and almost narcissistically spread. I couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty and wealth on show.
Ahmed was waiting by the front door. He hugged me tightly and sarcastically looked around as he did. I hit him on the left shoulder and we both laughed. In that beauty and grace, I was spell bound.
He duly took me to his room, past the executively furnished living room and down a certain hallway filled with nicely polished artifacts and pictures with sparkling golden frames. I sat comfortably on his neatly laid bed and felt very much at home. We talked for a few minutes before it got all hot and unruly. There was a certain aphrodisiac in the air. It must have been the deodorant hissing periodically. He stared intermittently into my eyes and I was charmed. I couldn’t stare back, it was too ensnaring. I willed him to grab me and kiss me, I closed my eyes. He reckoned and did accordingly.
The kisses and smooches transcended into more insidious acts of undressing and even though I wanted to resist, I couldn’t. I was lost in his theatre and I succumbed to his will. Each movement of his hands was followed by sensual kisses on sensitive spots, he practically kissed me all over my pleasure points. My eyes were tightly shut and my breaths were alternatively deep and shallow. Within seconds, we were both completely naked. He was atop me and then he suddenly stopped. I opened my eyes and there he was, staring into my soul.
“Do you want me to?”
I couldn’t believe my ears!
“What do you think?!” I soliloquized.
He asked again and I shut my eyes. He must have felt my muscles relax and factored that as an affirmative. He plunged slowly into me and I let out a sonorous shriek. It tickled, tingled and was somewhat frictional even though I was self lubricating.
I think it’s not as painful as people make it to be, if and only if the performance is slow and rhythmic. My eyes were tightly shut but I could sense his delight at something so warm and gripping. He groaned loudly at the end of the ten minute session and got slowly off me, breathing steadily fast. There was little to no blood and although I was sore for the better part of the week, it felt good, so good. I was a woman and I was proud. I couldn’t wait to feel his member in me once more.