I see the veins, like vines, stretching out on his left arm. From my angle, I see the depression on each finger, impressions left behind by the strings he holds down as he strums away with the other hand. He looks my way, and for a second I indulge, letting myself believe he sees me, sees into my want, into my heart. He stops and searches for something. A small piece of paper. Something special I assume. It’s a key of some sort; he retunes his instrument, strumming severally until each string produces the desired sound. He begins a wordless song, a lyricless tale. He fills the room, and the corridors of my heart with beautiful melodies. He looks at me as he plays, the intensity in his eyes reminiscent of a wildfire. He mouths words, soundless words. His hands begin to dance along the neck of his guitar faster, as the music becomes more frantic. We engage in a battle of wills, neither of us wanting to be the first to break the connection. His gaze burns. I turn back to his hand, I spot the ring, and wonder which bosoms he would lay his head on tonight. Maybe if I approach him, he would let me keep him from his wife tonight. Maybe he will play his guitar for me all night, the beating of my heart a perfect harmony to his melody. Maybe he wouldn’t mind that my husband would be just a few miles from us, trapped between his secretary’s thighs. Maybe he wouldn’t mind that my son will be just down the hall in his room, wondering why his daddy has to work so late, or never come home at all. Maybe he will call me beautiful, and shower my body and soul with heavenly ministrations. Maybe his rough, calloused fingers will awaken an arousal so strong, set my skin on fire. Maybe he will lust after my body like sharks after blood. Maybe he will love and guard my heart. The lady beside me is clapping loudly. She’s obviously infatuated by my guitarman too. “Isn’t he something?” I say to her. “Indeed”, she answers, “20 years of marriage, and I still fall in love with him all over again whenever he plays that guitar.” She smiles kindly. She loves him. I would too if I were her. I wonder if she was kind to him, made him happy, feel wanted and loved. She would be fool not to. As I get up to leave, I notice a hint of disappointment cross his face. He can’t react now, cause his wife has come over to greet him. He turns to return her affection, but I feel him watch me as I leave; the show is over. Goodnight my guitarman, maybe one day…
Tag Archives: sex
Ilekedi…
Three things I’ll remember about her
Three things I’ll never forget about this night
Three things I’ll forever ponder on
Three truths that I will never cease to grapple with
Her name was a mystery, like herself
Many have searched, albeit in vain, to find
Some say its the key to taming her
So she keeps it a secret; she locked that door and threw away the key
I didn’t ask for her name, I didn’t even think I would come so close
But she looked at me that night,
And opened up the deepest parts of my soul with those eyes
Upturning the dirt and ashes that had buried my secrets
Three things I’ll remember about her
The way she swayed her hips,
lost in her own designed ecstasy
The beads that adorned her waist,
sculpting her frame, undulating with her dance
The way she looked transformed
from mere mortal to revered deity
Three things I’ll never forget about that night
The way she looked at me, with eyes so beautiful,
yet rid with the sadness of a generation
The way the room faded away when she moved
as if it were just her and I locked in a battle of wills
The way her beads drew me in to her
holding me captive to her every twist, every turn
Three things I’ll forever ponder on
Why she singled me out, plain old me
instead of the usual patrons falling over each other for her
Why her movement, body, and soul spelled a sorrow
unlike any I’ve known; the kind that comes from fear
Why her beads danced around her waist
as if in a dirge, mourning a loss
Three truths I’ll forever grapple with
She was me, she became me, she is me
like a distant memory, foggy and dreamy,
of a past that was mine, a life I once lived
She was trapped; hiding in constant fear
I was trapped; hiding in constant fear
of who I was, who I was becoming
She held a secret, a certain power, and mystical force
in those beautiful beads that were my undoing
and in those beautiful eyes that told a thousand stories…
*Ilekedi: traditional beads worn around the waist by women for beautification or ritualistic purposes. Common in the African society.
Mine (9)
“So where are you from?” he asked as he packed my plate with food to hold a nation for a year.
Am I really that skinny that I look starved? And here I was thinking I was healthy. I knew I had lost a few pounds since I got here; apparently, oyinbo food and I are not particularly compatible. He stopped when he noticed me staring at the monstrosity that was supposed to be my food. I finally tore my eyes away from Goliath and faced him.
“You’ll need your strength later,” he said as he tried to hide his grin, but his eyes held a promise of something. Something I couldn’t quite place my hand on…until…click!
“Oh”, I half-whispered, and then giggled thinking to myself, ‘thank God I’m black. The last thing we want to do is start blushing like a goat’ (I know goats don’t blush, please leave me). That didn’t stop me from smiling like a fool, although I looked down at Goliath in order to avoid David’s burning gaze.
“So, where are you from?” he asked again, as he moved to his spot beside me on the island.
“Nigeria,” I said, bracing myself for a lengthy discussion spent discrediting common misconstruction about Africa, and African countries, and also preparing not to lose my cool.
David was straight out of my favourite, most exciting erotic novel, but that doesn’t mean I won’t lash out at him the moment he says something stupid. Maybe I could even exaggerate things a little bit, so he could beg me with that sweet sweet tongue of his. What the…keep it together woman!
“I figured you were from an African country, the accent. I didn’t know how to say it without sounding rude, so I…”
“You’re fine,” I smiled, “I don’t think it would have been rude.”
“You miss home?” he asked, and then suddenly, I began to reminisce on the ‘good ole days’ back home.
“As a matter of fact, I do. I miss my home, I miss the people, I miss being in a place with culture, I miss the food- the tasty, spicy food.”
I said the food bit with my eyes closed, licking my lips, and daydreaming of some hot pounded yam and egusi soup. God I miss home!
“So I take it you’re not too fond of the food here,” he asked, looking almost sad.
I am confused for a split second; is he such a patriot?
“Oh,” my eyes light up at the realization- the restaurant, his restaurant. “The food here is great actually, not as much spice, but I love it. Except for the part where some sauces and the chicken are sweet. I like my chicken spicy, not sweet; that confuses me a lot. But the food here is amazing!” “Honest,” I added for emphasis, hoping he’d believe me.
“It’s fine,” he sounded like a defeated child, “you don’t have to like my food.”
Aw hell! Mummy warned me, but I didn’t listen. She warned me to stop being so darn picky and choosy, and try to be adventurous for a change, but nooooooo, I just have to hold the whole world to my ridiculous standards. Ugh! I felt like I had been punched in the gut.
“I’m sorry,” I said, almost begging, “adjusting has just been difficult, even though it should have gotten easier after two years.” I felt so embarrassed, “I’m sorry, I tend to be quite picky.”
Suddenly, it looked like Goliath just grew a size bigger. I pushed the plate of food away as I fought back the urge to cry.
“I’m sorry,” he put his hand over mine, “it’s just that thinking of some Nigerian hunk cooking you your favourite spicy meal makes me a little bit sad.”
I couldn’t hold back the laughter that erupted from what seemed to be my stomach.
“You really think I’d leave you for some Nigerian hunk just cos he can make spicy food? I might as well leave you for myself then.”
He smiled like a little boy who just found out his crush likes him back. The next thing that came out of my mouth was really deadly. I should have thought this through, but by the time I realized that, it was too late…
oyinbo- Yoruba term for white person or pertaining to the Caucasian race.
egusi soup- A Nigerian dish. It is a soup made from melon, usually accompanied by a carbohydrate morsel.
Mine (8)
The parking lot attendant had yelled at us, and threatened to call the police, but David appeared not to be moved. I was scared for my life, so scared that I did not know when I blurted out, “please o! I’m here on a student visa. My mother will kill me if I get arrested o! Please!” in the most African tone you could imagine! For some strange reason, David found this humorous, and did not stop going on about it until we got home; to his apartment. “What is this? This isn’t my hotel”, I was genuinely confused. “I’m sorry, I missed the part where we decided you were going back to your hotel.” Stupid grin again. Ugh!!!!! I had to call Yvonne, and tell her. My phone. Oh no! I must have left my phone at the restaurant earlier on. Yvonne was going to talk my ear off when I got back. David opened my door, and held my hand as I got out. His chauffeur was there to take the keys, and take the car to the appropriate parking space.
“So, you want to tell me about the young man whose sins I’m paying for?” he asked as he filled my glass. “The wine looks like blood”, I said. “Don’t try to change the topic”, he shot me a stern look. I shuddered a bit. “Philip. First everything. Serious relationship, etc. Turned out to be an a-hole. Nothing glamorous.” He sat opposite me. “Then why did last night trouble you so much? So much that you would refuse to answer my calls?” “Who says I was troubled?” He stared long, and hard at me. “Please stop.” “You’re a woeful liar.” I had to laugh, the way he had said it was so funny. He was right though, I was lying. “Look, people’s hearts get broken on a daily basis. Why should mine be any different or special?” I hesitated. “It happened too quickly…not even up to a week. Doesn’t speak too well about my person.” “And me?” he asked, “what does it say about mine?” “It’s different for you, you’re a man. It’s like another trophy for you.” He laughed. “Well, glad to finally be scoring one after all these years”. “Yeah right. You expect me to believe that?” “Why not?” he laughed, “you think everyone gets with someone in less than a week, like you.” A. Spear. Passed. Through. My. Heart.
He looked at me dead in the eyes, no emotions whatsoever. “That’s what you want to hear right? You’re a cheap slut, a common whore. The world today has problems because you fell stupidly in love with someone you thought had your interests at heart. Now why don’t you go kill yourself because the world hates you because you’ve made a couple of bad calls.” I clenched my chest and begged for him to stop. I fell out of my chair, onto the ground, and cried. “He said he loved me, how couldn’t I have know better, seen the signs? It wasn’t just the heartbreak, it was the humiliation, when all the lies and deceit were revealed. It was the shame from everyone laughing in my face. It wasn’t just a breakup, it was a loss of my dignity. I just imagined him bragging to himself about how it took a while, but he still got what he wanted in the end…” I curled up on the floor, crying like a baby. David gathered me up in his arms, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I’m really sorry.” He took me to the couch where he let me cry in his arms. I stopped when my head began to hurt, and I concentrated on the rhythmic patter of his breathing instead. He kissed my forehead…
“Stacy, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s just…I…you just shouldn’t beat yourself up like you do. You are genuinely beautiful, in and out, and no one has the right to make you feel less; not even you.” Something flashed across his eyes when he said that last part; something like anger, but mixed with something darker. “But I’m sorry”, he continued, “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that. I was a total ass, and for that, I beg your forgiveness.” He had a point, I was allowing myself wallow in self-pity, and he was a total ass for practically screaming those hurtful things at me, but I needed to hear them; he was right, I had to let Philip go, for good. I ran my fingers through his hair, and let my lips graze his lightly. “My head hurts.” “I have some Aspirin. But let’s get lunch first, then depending on how you feel, we’ll know whether to go ahead with the medication.” “Yes mummy,” I blurted out without even thinking. He let out a small chuckle, and kissed my forehead. Dang! I believe the headache just left the vicinity!
The Night After
Going to bed with thoughts of you echoing in my head, your name dancing sleepily on my lips
I’ve known you by many names; David, William, Rob, Criminy, Jack, Max… Different stories, but all one man
I’ve come to feel something, love, lust, need, want, hunger, desire
I’ve come to yearn more than I thought I could ever
A perfect lover through and through
You’ll be gone by morning, fading away with the night,
But I’ll know you were here, remember you were here, feel you were here
And your words will ring in my head, like little messages left for me
Reminding me how you made me feel, how I cried out for you, how I loved you in the dead of night…
I’d wake up to sensuous messages from you in the morning; you’d know I would be kept awake by my maddening desire to hold you again…
Ripped up pieces of clothing litter the floor beneath my bed; this thing you do to me…
Visions flash past my eyes, provoking memories from when you possessed me, and made me yours…
The anticipation, how I squealed in delight, the perfect unison we blended into…that singular moment when nothing existed outside us…
My heart is beating fast again. Why are you smiling in your sleep? Why are you sliding under the sheets? Why are…? oh.
Mine (7)
My phone would not stop ringing all morning. It became so annoying that putting it on silent had not been enough; I ended up turning it off entirely. “David?” Yvonne asked. I nodded. “Maybe he wants to apologize or has something important to say. Why not hear him out? Besides, he might just be genuine.” “Yeah”, I responded sarcastically, “Philip was real genuine too.” I rolled my eyes, and hissed loudly. “I actually don’t get why you’re so upset right now to be honest. Just the other day, you were all excited, and awestruck. In your eyes, David could do no wrong, but now, he’s the devil himself. Double standards girl, double standards!” she rolled her eyes. “I never equated him to the devil. And I’m not mad”, I yelled. She raised her eyebrow. “What is really the matter Stacy? Cos judging from the state you had been in two days ago, you should be happy with how things have progressed.” I held my spinning head, trying to ask my thoughts to calm down for a bit. “He’s married”, I said nervously. Yvonne spat her drink out.
“He’s what?” she screamed. “Shhhh. Why are you screaming? You’ll attract people.” I looked around to make sure we weren’t getting suspicious glances from the other people in the restaurant. “Well, not exactly. He was married. He’s divorced now.” Yvonne heaved a huge sigh of relief. “But he has a four year old son Yvonne. A four year old son! I’m not ready to be someone’s mummy or babysitter.” Yvonne sipped some more of her drink. “Girl! You sure know how to give me a good scare! I was bout to start shitting bricks”, she patted her head, wiping off some imaginary sweat, “will you calm your nerves down? I told you I had a bad feeling about this guy, but no, you wanted a man.” I rolled my eyes and hissed again, turning away from her. She laughed, “well, he hasn’t said you should be his child’s mother, neither has he asked you to become his babysitter, so I don’t know why you’re fretting. And if you actually want this to be more than a one week stand, I suggest you make clear your terms now, before you are roped into what is beyond you. Make him understand that you’re young, and all that fun stuff.” “Yvonne, this is no joke. I can’t face him. I want to go back to school”, I cried. “You mean you want to run away from this one as well? When Philip happened, that was the same way you ran away, and avoided anything that remotely came close to reminding you of him, whether in age or complexion. Is that what you want to do again?” I had no answer for her, I had no answer for myself, “I’m going out for some air. I’ll see you later”. I got up, and left the table.
I really did not want any air, I just had to get away from Yvonne. I walked into Starbucks, and ordered a tall peppermint mocha, and two chocolate croissants. I waited for a few minutes, picked up my order, and sat at a table. I was looking out the window, when I heard the door open, and smelled his scent fill the room. I was too terrified to turn back, I just sat there, frozen. He asked for a small freshly brewed coffee. He didn’t come to me immediately, instead, he delayed, to watch as his mere presence torture me even more. The evil bastard. “I called. Several times. What’s the matter with you?” I didn’t turn to look at him. “Can you please just leave?” I said trying to sound as calm as possible. “Why do you insist on acting like a child Stacy? Why is your solution to everything running away? Why do you have to treat me like this? Have I wronged you, or am I just the unlucky fellow who’s paying for another man’s foolishness?” He knew. I don’t know how, but he knew. David knew. He saw through me; how, I didn’t know, but I know he did. “Stacy,” he started… “You know what, you’re right; maybe I should leave.” As he got up, I asked, “I thought you were supposed to be on a business trip. Don’t tell me you cancelled that to come and scold me for being a child.”
What happened next, I could never have envisioned, not even in my wildest dreams! David grabbed my arm, dragged me out of the coffee shop, and shoved me into his car. He locked it, and took a moment to breathe, then got in, and drove off. I was too shocked to do any other thing than to quietly wonder where he was taking me to. After driving in silence for about ten or fifteen minutes, he drove into a parking lot. He looked at me, and smiled; that same smile that paralyzed me every single time. “David… …”
Mine (6)
“Hoooooooooo!!!!” Yvonne screamed as I walked in. My hair was a mess, I looked almost disoriented, and I could barely keep myself on my feet. I wobbled to the bed, threw my shoes off, and then wobbled into the shower. I stood there with my hands against the wall as the warm water poured on me. I did not even have time to protect my hair with a shower cap. What had just happened? What did I just do? Oh dear! I was screwed! so screwed! David would probably never speak to me again. He’d think I was some cheap slut. How could I have let go! I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. I had asked for it after all, edging him on each time, making him think he had a chance with me. But he did, and I wanted him to. He was almost perfect, but I was too eager. I had really messed up this time; really really messed up. I punched the wall several times until I saw blood on my palms. This time, the tears came out. It was like the pain finally unlocked the tears. This wasn’t my first time; but I just did not want to remember the first time. He wasn’t like David, he was much younger. But he had lied to me, and I fell for it. I still hadn’t recovered from the shame. It had been almost two years now, but the wound was still very fresh. I blamed myself for being too foolish, and I had promised not to… But then David came, and it didn’t even take a week. I scrubbed my body vigorously, as if I was trying to scrub the memories from the previous night away from my mind.
Yvonne hugged me tightly when I got back into the room, and I cried in her arms. She was no longer laughing, she was truly sorry. “Don’t be too hard on yourself”, she whispered, “Who says this time will be like the first?” I cried louder and harder, until I started shaking. Yvonne gave me some medication to help calm me down. As seconds passed, my worries seemed to lazily fall out of my hands. I soon drifted off into a very deep sleep…
When I opened my eyes, it was dark, except for the bedside lamp on the farther side of the bed. I ran my hand over my face, and by the time I reopened my eyes, it was off. Was I dreaming? Was I hallucinating? I tried moving, but no part of my body seemed to be responding. What in God’s name had Yvonne given me? “Calm down. Relax, you’ll be fine”. I couldn’t believe my ears; why was he here? Why was he here? Why was he here? Why??? “L-l-l-l-l….” The words wouldn’t come out. “Relax”, he whispered again. I really couldn’t do anything contrary to what he said, so I just closed my eyes and went back to sleep.
The door opened some time later, and Yvonne came in, looking all dressed up. I sat up, finally being able to do so. “You went out?” I asked. “Yes. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be selfish, but I had already arranged to meet up with a friend who came from out of town. And by the time you got back, it was too late to cancel.” “It’s fine…what time did you leave again?” I asked nervously. “About 7:30 cos we were to meet for 8 pm”. I looked at the time, it was past 10. He was here…David was here… “Are you okay Stacy?” “Yes. Yes, I am.” I forced a smile. “Still worked up about this afternoon?” I shook my head. “How do you feel now?” she asked. I nodded, and went to use the bathroom. He was here, in this room, in my bed. How? I shut my eyes tightly, missing the stray teardrop by a split second. I just wanted to go back to school, and forget all this had ever happened. I had not planned for this, I had definitely not planned for this.
I went back to bed that night, trying not to think about anything that had happened. The morning would reveal the circumstances, and our options, and in due course, everything would sort itself out. I was not ready to deal with all this; so not ready…
Mine (5)
“Stacy. Please…” he looked like he was going to cry. “David…” I didn’t know what to say to him. I didn’t know how to not break his heart over. “I think I should leave.” “Stop it!” he yelled. “For heaven’s sake Stacy, stop it! It’s been four years since I got divorced now, what exactly are you afraid of? That one day I’m just going to wake up and decide I want to go back to someone who told me point blank, that I can never have a peaceful monogamous relationship with her? Wow. Yeah, maybe you should leave.” He looked upset, and I knew we had scratched at a wound that had barely healed. His ego must have been wounded above all else. His wife essentially said he could never be enough for her. How cruel. I felt almost sorry for him. “David… I’m still too young…” Was I listening to myself right now? Here was someone who had just told me one of the most shameful things he had ever experienced, and I couldn’t even empathize with him. I felt like the worst person on earth. “So you’re just going to leave now? I’m not so perfect anymore. I’m not man enough for you either isn’t it? should have known.” “Hey! You’re upset, don’t take it out on me. I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just worried that’s all. I don’t want someone thinking I’m trying to steal her family or anything. I just don’t want any problems. And I never expected you to be perfect, this is just coming as a surprise, but then again…I really don’t know what I had been expecting.”
I stopped, and sat on the bed, staring out the window, but not really seeing anything. What had I been expecting actually? I sighed. I knew this had been too good to be true. Why couldn’t I just get what I wanted for a change? “I’m not what you had wanted, am I?” he laughed. “Don’t do that please. There’s no need to beat yourself up. Not your fault that she … I don’t want to talk about his anymore.” I took off my jeans, and t-shirt, and chose a shirt from his closet. “We’ll deal with this in the morning.” I smiled, and turned off the night light…
I didn’t get out of bed until almost noon…I was really on holiday! I searched everywhere, but I couldn’t find my pants, or David. I took my phone from my purse; several missed calls and texts from Yvonne and my mum. Crap! My mum! But first, I had to call David…oh wait, I didn’t have his number. Well here goes nothing. I crept down the stairs slowly, so as not to give myself away. I went into the smaller kitchen, but there was no one there. The restaurant sounded busy, and I hoped to God that no one would decide they had forgotten to retrieve something from the kitchen at that point in time. Ayyyeee…cake! Wouldn’t hurt anyone if I helped myself to some, besides, my tummy was starting to rumble. I opened the fridge, and helped myself to some juice. All was well until I returned the bottle of juice. I was bent over, putting the bottle on the last shelf when I heard voices behind me. Perfect! I got up with whatever dignity was left in me, and walked past David, and some other guy, throwing an obviously forced “hello” at them. I heard them laughing as I went up the stairs; why me? Could I just cry now. Today wasn’t one of those days I considered myself a nudist. I stood behind the door, leaving it slightly open to see if I could hear what if they were talking about me. I couldn’t hear anything.
“Stop eavesdropping Stacy, no one is talking about you”, he called out from the foot of the stairs. Really? Really?? Really??? I slammed the door shut. Maybe today just isn’t my day. He appeared in the room a few minutes later. He hugged me and kissed my head. “Are you trying to steal my friends?” trying so hard to look innocent and genuine. “You stole my pants”, I hissed. He threw his head back as he laughed. “Well you took my shirt without asking last night, so I just thought I’d repay the favor.” He brushed my hair back. “You look beautiful”, he whispered as he cupped my face in his palms, and covered my lips with his, in what seemed like a rapturous moment. It was like being freed from a sort of invisible bondage that I had been held in without even being aware. I was weak at my knees, and I just seemed to melt into his arms. He held me tight like he was afraid that if he let go, he’d never be able to hold me again.
He brought my clothes back from the laundry, and lay them out for me while I took a shower. I decided I didn’t feel like wearing my oversized t-shirt anymore, so I borrowed another shirt from his closet. We had brunch in the small kitchen downstairs, along with the random dude who happened to be his brother, Mark. I hadn’t noticed when I had hurried past them, but looking at them now, I realized they looked so alike. Mark was nice, and chill; I liked him a lot. However, he was uncomfortably too comfortable…I don’t even know if that makes sense. He joked about me being too young for David, and how he would have been better suited, and more age-appropriate for me. I politely replied that I didn’t like young boys, I could tell from his flushed cheeks that that stung a bit. Score! Brunch was fun, I laughed so hard that my sides began to hurt. After brunch, David drove me back to my hotel. He explained that he had to leave town that evening and wouldn’t be back until the next evening or the morning after that; the morning after that was more likely. He said his driver, and one of his assistants would be there in the morning to more or less wait on Yvonne and I. I felt like a spoiled princess, and wondered how long this could last for.
“Thank you”, I said, and kissed him goodbye. As I turned to let myself out the car, he stopped me, and pulled me back in…
Mine (4)
When I opened my eyes, it was dark except for the lights from the streets which shone in, although very dim. I sat up, and looked out the window. I felt the figure beside me stir, as the night light came on. “Hi there”, he said. I could hear the smile in his voice, and I felt so stupid when I remembered the episode that had gotten us there. He tugged at my t-shirt, pulling me back to bed. I rested my head on his chest, and said “hi”. I shut my eyes, and drew a really long breath. It felt nice and warm, his chest. I consciously matched my breathing to his, and I simply enjoyed my head moving as his chest rose and fell. I put my arm across him, and he ran his hands along my side, and rested on my waist. Wrong move. I jerked his hand away, probably taking him by surprise. “I’m sorry, did I..” “No, nothing. You’re fine. Just don’t do it again”, I said. He must have been very stubborn as a child, this man, because his hand continued to drift to my waist. I continued to push his hand away, until he grabbed me firmly, and I just lost it. It was as if I was having a fit; I was laughing, and shaking all over the place. “So you’re ticklish…” he continued to tickle me. Why are human beings so mean? I began to beg in between my shrieks of laughter, but clearly, he was enjoying this. Long story short, I ended up on the floor, with him on top of me. Then I threatened to cry, and scream for help.
He stopped, and took a long look at me. He lowered his upper body, bringing his lips to mine, but stopped just short of them. Shame on me, I had already closed my eyes expecting a kiss like the other night, but all I got was a laugh. He was laughing at me. -_- “Ummmm…please get off me”, I pushed him off. He sat on the floor, still with that stupid smile on his face. I wanted to slap it away so bad. I picked up my jeans to wear them, but then I turned, and threw them at him instead. Then I did something really…really…errrr…. Anyways… I marched back to him, positioned myself across his body, and kissed him… “What do yo do for a living?” I asked. He giggled, “why do you want to know.” I rolled my eyes, and shook my head. What was it with all this mystery? “Well, I’m a student”, I offered. “I go to school in Macon.” I looked at him, and smiled.
David was a business man. He had always loved food, and had inherited his father’s local business, which he had now turned into a multi-million dollar chain of restaurants. He wasn’t born with a silver spoon, but he had had a happy childhood. I had neither; it was just recently that I had reconnected with my inner child, and I became really happy. We shared stories over dinner, wine, and chocolates. There was so much simplicity to him, but at the same time, he was very sophisticated. We were sitting on the couch now, legs stretched out on the coffee table, play fighting over the blanket. He threatened to tickle me, and I became more mellow than I thought myself capable of being. He put his arm around me, and I snuggled closer to him. He kissed me briefly, and I smiled, He fed a piece of chocolate to me. “Are you married?” I asked. “Divorced”, he said. I froze there.
There are two kinds of men I like to avoid at all costs: married men, and men who were once married. No!!!! Why?! This had been such a great evening. I heard him laughing, and suddenly, he became a source of irritation for me. “What is funny?” I rolled my eyes, not even attempting to hide my disgust. “I take it you don’t like men who were once married. Would you prefer it if I were married then?” he teased. I pulled away from him, and he pulled me back. “No. You’re not leaving if that’s what you have in mind.” He wasn’t smiling, at all! I was a bit afraid, but I blushed a little. “Where are you from?” he asked as if nothing happened. “How long were you married for? What happened?” “Really Stacy? Don’t do this. Not now please.” I refused to say anything to him after that. I shoved his arm away, and folded my arms across my body, and stared at the TV. He got up, put on a shirt, and went out the door.
I felt like crying, but I was also angry at the same time. I went into the bathroom, and turned on the shower. I stepped in, and let the water just fall all over me. I stood there thinking; should I run away, should I stay? The thoughts were making me dizzy. Why was he a divorcee? Why? Why? Why? I was already thinking out loud, and then I heard the door open. “Please leave”, I said, “just leave, I’m not doing this.” “Not doing what Stacy? I haven’t asked you to do anything. Why does this have to be a big deal?” I honestly didn’t know the answers to those questions. “Just leave please”, I pleaded, even though I knew he wasn’t going to. “We were married for about 10 months. We dated for about 2 years. Just before the wedding, I discovered she was sleeping with one of the investors I had approached with a proposal for an expansion project. She was pregnant at the time, and I had hoped the marriage and the baby would change her, but she continued. Then eventually when I confronted her, she said she just couldn’t fathom sharing her bed with only one man for the rest of her life. Jason is four now.” He was sitting on the floor now. He looked really sad; maybe he had been very lonely. Broken men, ugh, not again! I got out of the shower, took a towel, and just left him sitting there…
Mine (3)
“Thirty-what?! Are you out of your mind child? Are you sure you didn’t have a drink too many? What the… No! You’re joking right?”, she was laughing now, “you’re joking. Of course you’re joking.” Yvonne could be so annoying when she decided she wanted to play mummy. “Look. It just happened okay. It’s not like I purposefully went out in search of some 35 year-old Greek god of a man. We’ve been together since we got here. Stop giving me that look.” I walked away from her. Stupid girl. “Look Stacy, I know you’re young, and feeling adventurous, and whatnot, but I have a really bad feeling about this. What if he’s married? Or has some pregnant girlfriend stashed away somewhere? Stacy…” “Stop it! Stop! I never said we were dating, nor did I say we were screwing around…” “Well, his intentions seem pretty clear”, she smirked. “Oh for the love of Christ Yvonne! Cut me some slack!” I stood looking out the window in silence for a few minutes, trying to figure out how I was going to tell her the rest of the story. Should I? Should I not? She’s just going to blow this all up in my face. Bit- umen… Ugh!
“We’re staying till the end of Spring break. David will arrange for us to be taken back to school.” I didn’t turn to look at her, but I could feel her staring intensely at me, mouth agape, in utter disbelief, and partly shocked. “And who do you think is about to pay $600 for a hotel room, on a college student’s budget?” she quizzed, even though we both knew the answer. She continued, “so he has already started spending money on you? What does he do for a living? What if he’s some psychotic criminal? You surprise me Stacy, honestly. I mean…” She heaved a sigh of exasperation, “I’m going back to school tomorrow. You can stay here if you like, but I’m going back.” I dashed to her on the bed, “but please Yvonne, I need you to stay with me. You keep saying I don’t know him, I don’t know what he does, he could be a psycho, and now, there’s an opportunity to get to know him, but you’re refusing it. Come on”. “But Stacy, he’s 35 for crying out loud!” “I don’t care if he’s 35 for heaven’s sake.” She gave me the straight face. “You like the fact that he’s 35, don’t you?” “So you’ll stay?” I smiled. “Well, to keep you from getting into trouble, yes, I’ll stay.” I hugged her and said thank you.
The next morning, we had a ginormous breakfast courtesy of David, and then we were driven to the spa, where we were pampered like little spoiled little babies. Spring this year felt like summer; the weather was beautiful, and Yvonne was even beginning to lose the skepticism in her voice. After our mani’s and pedi’s which came last, we were taken to lunch, where David at last joined us. “I imagine you ladies have had a good morning”, he smiled, almost looking like he was glowing. Inside of me, I was melting into a pool of goey stuff, but outside, I was hard rock, no emotions. “It was okay”, I shrugged. He simply smiled, and signaled to someone who came to take our orders. Yvonne looked around, “no business today?” she asked. “I didn’t want any disturbances”, he replied. Yvonne laughed, “what are you? the owner or something?” He smiled, looking at me this time, “are you okay? We didn’t exactly conclude our night well. Did you give my proposal some thought?” Yvonne froze, and shot me that ‘I’m about to kill you now look’. “Proposal?!” she almost screamed. “I see she already discussed it with you.” “Yes, she only forgot to mention the part of it being a proposal, and that she hadn’t yet agreed to it.” “Well then, I guess she wants to. Do you want to Stacy?”
How could he sit there and be so calm? Was he crazy or something? I’m just 20. I mean, my fake ID says I’ll be 22 soon, but I’m really just 20. What if he’s really a criminal, a psychotic one like Yvonne had said. Was the room spinning? Was I dreaming? Oh crap. “Excuse me”, I ran to the bathroom. I spluttered my insides into the pristine toilet bowl. I felt so sick. What was happening to me? I felt someone’s hands helping to get my hair out of my face; they were not Yvonne’s. I spat into the bowl, and got up. He helped me to the sink, where he cleaned me up. I was crying now. He didn’t ask what was wrong, I was glad. “Would you like to go up and lie down for a bit?” “Yvonne…”, I said. “She’ll meet you upstairs.”
The room was big, and beautiful, with a breathtaking view of the city. The sheets were so white I was tempted to ask to sleep on the floor, but it looked so inviting. He peeled off the edge of the comforter, and I sat on the bed; heaven. He bent down and took my shoes off quietly…in the most sensuous manner I could ever imagine. At some point, I wondered if he was going to kiss my feet. Then he got up. “Are you leaving?” What the devil?! Shut up Stacy, shut up! “Ummm…yeah, to get Yvonne.” “Can you stay?” “Ummm…I don’t…uhhh…I guess…” Wow! I just had to laugh, it was weak, but I had to “who would’ve thought that you could ever be tongue tied.” “I’ll let Yvonne know.” He disappeared for a few minutes, and by the time he got back, I was in bed, wearing just my oversized t-shirt, with my back turned to him as he entered. He got into bed, without a word, and put his arm around me.
In that moment, I felt so content, and at peace. His embrace made me feel so tiny, and cared for. He pulled me closer to him, as if to say “mine.”
Chocolate Flavoured Girl 