“Harder! Harder!”

Wait what?

 “I said harder!” The girl repeats, her voice rising in frustration.

Kioko pummels into her again. Increasing the severity of his thrusts. Though if you look at his face. Dejection. An unwillingness on his part to subject his muse to violence in the name of sex. She is however, adamant, this is how she likes it.

Breathing. Heavy breathing.

Kioko is struggling to maintain his momentum. His chest hairs have turned slimy courtesy of the balls of sweat flowing speedily from his neck.

“Endelea!” She screams.

Now our man Kioko opens up his final fuel tank. Pushing his metaphorical stick to its literal limits. Quick easy strokes punctuated by thuds of flesh against flesh.

“Aaaaaaaaaaah.” Kioko shouts. Simultaneously quickening the pace. The girl’s face is teeth-first holding on to the headboard. A curious position. But one she nonetheless enjoys.

“Fuuuuuuck.” She moans.

And it seems that is Kioko’s “safe” word. He contorts, crumbles even, letting out a low sigh as he releases.

“Ghai!” He whispers. At the same time grabbing hold of her hair to still himself. “Aaaaaaah,” again.

Then it’s over.

They lie there for a moment. Hopefully getting in touch with their gods and apologizing for the sin/s they have committed. Instead, Kioko is thinking of how to get himself out of this.

“Umemaliza ama tunaendelea?” The babe asks, turning her face to the man still partly inside her. It is only now that we see her face. Shapely, yes. With a roundness that would be unforgivable on another. But on her…God! She is comely, her skin tone the color of deep fried liver that has been allowed to rest for a day, or two. Though, she has something on her teeth. She swirls her tongue over them and spits it out. Paint.

“Kioko, toka basi!” She commands.

Breathing. Heavy breathing. His diaphragm still working hard to pump air into his lungs. The only indication that he is alive, given his eyes are glazed over, are his nose hairs moving.

“Ngoja.” He whispers.

She does.

They spend another long half-minute in this awkward position. Then she speaks again; “Kioko hiyo CD ikipotelea ndani!” Delivered in a tone half-accusing, half-irritated. It seems to do it. He releases her hair and directs his hand to that region where glands collide. He latches on to something. Then, pulls himself out.

The lady’s body shudders then, “fuuuuuuuck.” They are both potty-mouths.

The man stands and wobbles to the kitchenette. I am being generous here. Think a sink, some utensils and a table top gas burner to the side. He opens the ka-small door under the sink pulls out the dust bin and throws the latex condom in there.

“Wrap it in a fucking tissue.” She orders.

“Tissue iko?”

She points to the toilet’s door. Then pulls her phone from the charger beside the bed. She swipes it open, clicks on the Instagram app then closes it. Habit. She navigates to her Whatsapp and opens it.

“Uko home?” Her boyfriend has texted.

Fuuuuuck!

“Kioko, you need to go!”

Kioko, having finished with wrapping the condom and disposing it has disappeared into the toilet. The last hour’s actions seem to have loosened his bowels and he is in the process of;

“Kioko, are you taking a dump in my house?” She shouts. The smell suddenly hitting her.

He figures he might as well finish what he started. No point apologizing for a job half done.

He reemerges to find Stella spraying her perfume furiously throughout the house.

“You need to leave!” She tells him.

“Aiiii si I thought I was spending the night?” He responds.

Not after that performance. She quietly thinks to herself. She gathers his clothes and hands them to him.

“Please vaa nguo,chali yangu anakam.”

Wait, you didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.

“Would it have mattered?”

He knows he would have come anyway.

“Vaa nguo.” She orders again.

As he does that, she sits on the edge of the bed pulls her phone and texts back. “Niko home, uko?” Then she slaps a silly mosquito that had perched itself above her headboard. Her breasts swinging back and forth with the effort.

Typing…..

Kioko is struggling to pull his leg through one of his skin-tight jeans. He steadies himself with the edge of the sink and jumps.

Typing……

She watches him. Wonders, “what the fuck did I see here?”

Typing……

He finally manages to wear the damn jeans. He pulls his t-shirt on. “Utanizindikisha?” He asks.

The boyfriend responds. “Niko kwa shopping center, nikuletee nini?”

“Si ulijileta ama?” Stella asks Kioko.

“Kwani ni nini imekasirisha huyu dame?” Kioko wonders.

“Unaweza buy supper, nimechoka sifeel kupika.” She texts back.

“Naweza kuona tena?” Kioko asks. He is reaching and he knows it. These are not the type of questions to ask a babe who is moody. Seemingly angry, seated at the edge of her bed naked with easy access to knives in her house.

“Please enda, nitakutext.”

There’s no point in arguing. He turns opens the door and, “key ya padlock iko?”

She stands, grabs her keys from the ka-small table next to her bed and opens the door. He attempts to lean in for a hug/kiss and is swiftly rebuffed.

“Nitakutext nikifika home.” He offers.

Sawa.

He steps out and the door slams behind him. The bolt screeching as it is driven in.

“Madem!” Shaking his head.

Inside, a driven Stella is busy changing bed sheets. Pulling away the used ones and stuffing them into the dirty clothes bin. She flips the mattress and lays new sheets on it. She folds the duvet neatly, pulls out a bag and packs it into it. There’s a fresh duvet under the bed. She pulls it out and throws it on the bed. She doesn’t make her bed. In case her boyfriend asks what she was doing that afternoon. It gives off a, ‘someone was sleeping here vibe.’

She’s on her phone again. “Chocolate hutaki leo 🍫?” He asks.

“Nataka 🥰. Pia kuja na bread ya kesho morning.”

She opens her toilet door, turns on the shower, steps out and flips on the heater. She opens her phone again.

“Sawa, will be there in 10 minutes.”

Fuck. She needs to hurry. She puts her phone downs and disappears into the shower. Taking a relatively short shower before sniffing her arms and deciding his smell still lingers. she showers again. Comes out with her towel wrapped around her. She does a quick survey on the house. Seeking out traces of Kioko. 2 wine glasses. She dumps them in the sinks. Empty wine bottle. A plate of cookies quickly discarded in the heat of the moment. Condom wrapper thrown under the bed. She throws those into the dustbin. She inspects the house again. She can’t see anything else. She proceeds to mop the house down. She then opens her door, bin in hand and proceeds to the communal dust bin to empty it.

She comes back quickly. Holding her towel with one hand and walking gingerly. Trying not to step into the tiny puddles of muddy water on her neighbor’s verandah.

She gets in. Immediately opening the kitchen tap and letting the water run through. She soaps her dish scrubber. Glasses first. She scrubs them thoroughly. Attempting to wipe away the very memory of that waste of sin. She dries them, then places them in the upper drawer. No point explaining what she was doing with 2 glasses of wine. She starts cleaning her other dishes.

Knocking. On the metal door.

She peeks from behind the curtain. Look at him smiling.

She opens it. “Yaani huwezi fungua bila kuchungulia?” He asks. She flashes him a wide smile in answer. He hands over a shopping bag, dhania leaves hanging out from the edge.

“Kwani you bought veges?” She asks as she takes it and places it on the floor next to the gas.

“Leo ni mimi nakupikia.” He answers as he removes his shoes. Using one foot to step on the edge of a shoe extracting the leg and repeating.

“Si niziingize ndani zisinyeshewe?”

She nods.

He gets in, places them on her shoe rack beside the door. He straightens himself and draws her in for a kiss.

Fuck. She forgot to brush her teeth.

PC: Kehinde Ogunsanya – Pexels

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