MAGICAL MONDAYS WITH KREATE
made you Miss Spontaneity.’ His voice turned serious.
As he sat down, I served the meal. Words were not exchanged as we ate and drank in the placid atmosphere of the room. The only sound came from utilized cutleries and gulping throats. I liked the way he ate with his hand, neglecting the cutleries at his disposal; there was something supremely manly about it. Or perhaps my nervous, magnetic attraction to him had clouded my perception.When our eyes met, I blushed and he smiled.
My lips parted and my tongue was offered. He took it with virile dexterity, slowly sucking in and out, the breath from his nostrils now in waves of excitement.
This time he didn’t go for my lips, but for the upper curve of my right breast. A moan escaped my lips as he kissed one and then moved to the other. My nipples were alert now as electrical currents permeated the scarlet veins of my boobies. I could feel the hot thickness of the man between his thighs lightly brushing my moist sex. I wanted him. I wanted him to take me now. Please take me now! And then out of the blue, he stopped, grunted and pulled back. I couldn’t fathom the rationale behind this. All was going well. And then the sound of my phone came to life, growing louder until it was blaring like an annoying car honk. The ring tone indicated that it was mine.
He was smiling now. I swore below my breath, making no effort to mask my disgruntlement as I fetched my phone from the dining room. The number was unknown. I touched the receiver icon and placed it over my ear.
Tongue-tied, I watched him disappear through the passageway, the sound of a shut door followed afterward. What just happened?
Kreate is a budding Nigerian writer with a flair for fiction. Writing for him began sometime in secondary school where he dabbled in poetry and plays. He has authored two self-published short novels.
He is a banker and lives in Surulere. Read more interesting pieces at KREATEATALE