He watched her as she stayed laid,
almost so lifeless. Still. The sight that once fascinated him now brought him
much to THINK. Her chest sank slowly, into the cozy bed they found themselves
in-after last night’s RENDEVOUS. And she was still breathing. BEAUTIFUL, He
thought. Her dark shimmered under the tinge light that managed to creep into
the room. And part from the pale light and the melancholic song hovering in the
air, all that was left was darkness-thick blinding darkness consumed the entire
room and his thoughts….
It was Valentine’s Day. And here he
was trapped in a box with someone he considered his life. But she was more than
that. The aura of pleasure stinking him, spilling bits of ecstasy all other his
body as he soaked himself in his thoughts once more.
Few minutes to the break of dawn, beside
him, no doubt, the handiwork of a genius—she was a masterpiece. Dark skinned West-African
beauty, with the semblance of a dove—she embodied innocence; it glistened in
her bright brown eyes, in the subtleness of her voice, and it has the ability
to quake the most stolid being. She was just perfect. Her name was Chioma. She was from the eastern part
of Nigeria, where women are famous for their extravagant charm and goddess-like
bodies, features she was nothing short of. Even her meek spirit could not deem
the light of her beauty. It was no hidden fact that she was the apple of many
men’s eyes, even as a young lady of 21.
He—Luke—never flattered her that much
again. He didn’t have to; she knew undoubtedly that he thought of her more than
often. They shared a chemistry that was ignited in much silence. He did not
have to say as much as a word for her to know that the hundred and one thoughts
streaming through his mind was of her. And that, for him, was amazing… FOR NOW.
Images were flashing. Images of the
night before; before the big game. Daddy had found himself a Queen Bee, and she
stung almost so perfectly…
Did it feel good?
Yes, it was beyond his expectation.
BUT—
His mind went completely blank.
It was Valentine’s Day—one day you
sure didn’t want to be alone. Yet it didn’t make sense the way he felt: the
chill in his spine and the buzz in his head. It was just his mind playing
tricks on him. Not what happened, it was just his FREAKING MIND. He
thought.
It felt good—the forbidden fruit.
Just minutes after it sinks deep into your stomach, you’re been plagued with
the pain of a thousand year. Just like vinegar, but that wasn’t it…what
happened didn’t trouble him as much as he felt right now….
It felt good.
The ach of pleasure rushing through
you in the speed of light—running down your spine like bolts of lightning—almost
killing you. But it never did. The climax of ecstasy, the guilt in her eyes… Maybe
yet the pain.
He would see it VIVIDLY, hear it
CLEARLY, feel it SO PASSIONATELY… he could smell it on her—on her skin—and he
touched it but hardly did he do anything about it, or himself. He made no sense
of her pain. He could not consider her feelings. He was so driving, so
passionate to please. But the question was who?
BUT
He shook those thoughts off. AGAIN
There was no need for regret, not now
or ever! He didn’t hurt anyone, did he? Of course, not. Maybe not his greatest
shot (as a first timer), but he would improve like the old cliché: “Better luck
next time.” MISQUOTING
Would there be a next time?
“Why not?” he whispered to himself
unknowingly.
It felt good…she liked it. She won’t
be sound asleep if she did not like it. Maybe that was just an attempt to
forgive. He whirled towards her. She was sound at sleep like a baby who had
just been succoured by her mother. She stayed laid peacefully, with a smile on
her face that answered most of his questions.
Why was he worried about nothing? You
rarely get such gifts on valentine! It should be a merry merry Valentine! He chuckled. Funny right? At least he wasn’t taking himself too serious now.
He sank deep into the bed, with his
hands right above his chest, eyes glued to the ceiling, and he was halfway
across the world in no time. Things were never going to be the same and he knew
that, but was he ready? Who would she wake up to?
The man after valentine
Funny way to put it but he only hoped
she would like her present. He deprived himself his thoughts to pay her more
attention. The bed sheets were now hanging on her curvy hips, revealing her
upper half. Some things never change. A perverted smile ran across his
face as he adjusted the white sheets. He slowly wrapped his arms round her,
tight enough for her to notice, and she replied mutual, but unconsciously to
his gesture, chiming obscure words.
Dream language
For the next few minutes, he just
stared at her. He had everything he wanted; a good girl, the best he had seen so
far, some priceless gem…. Unfortunately she was now naked on the same bed with
him. That distorted the once perfect picture he had of her. It took her
innocence away—he took her innocence away.
Remembering why he loved her, sex was
not one of his many reasons. For Christ sake!
She bored everything he’d dreamt and wished for, and even more. And he had her;
her love and body. She gave him everything for the wrong reasons. It wasn’t for
love; she had to prove herself to him. He wished she never did—he wished he had
believed those three letter words when she uttered them, every time he used
them.
Now he was haunted, not by regret, but
by the rage and fears of his earliest memories. She was just like her; she gave
everything and got nothing. He had little to offer her; nothing worth her love
and devotion. He had cheated love. More so, he had cheated her.
Minutes later he was off the bed,
picked articles of his cloth from the ground, headed for the door—
“Luke” paused “where are you going?”
Her subtle voice froze him halfway. But
he could not face her—not now. He did not reply; he couldn’t. No answer was
good enough; not like he had one—one that made sense.
“Luke” her voice trembled.
But he still did not reply.
He left.
He didn’t say a word.
He just left….
Prince
“PRYNCZZ WONDA” Ekpemandu | @wilDEE__ [twitter]
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