Stories that remind you….of home.
Tag: sex
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.
It is drizzling outside, the type of rain that falls unwillingly. A few steady drops every 3 seconds. As if the raindrops would rather be anywhere but here, maybe in the ocean in Malindi. Waiting for a short girl with perky breasts to come into it instead of raining down into the dirtier side of Nairobi.
She is on my bed. Her left leg is over mine and she is telling me she loves me. Yes, she has a boyfriend but it is me she loves. She will leave him. She just hasn't figured out how to do it. He is working in the big city. He sends her money every now and then. He doesn't ask for much. He only wants to see her once every month. I never ask what happens when she goes there. It is always the last Sunday of the month. He always sends her fare and some spare change in case she needs to buy something while traveling. Sometimes he calls her at night, when she is sleeping over at my place. He says her voice makes him sleep a little better. Just before he ends every call, he asks her.
For now though, he feels a new dialogue happening in his pants. One he particularly enjoys. She will feel it too. She will reach out to grab it. Gently at first then....
She will grab the back of his neck. His breathing will quicken. His ears will grow just a little bit hotter. She will stop kissing him. She will draw back. Look him straight in the eye, and say happily, I like you. She will kiss him again. And again. And again. A really small part of him will want to lift one leg up and lean into the kiss. Just a small part.....
Hadithi Hadithi 