Skip to main content

Flesh


Sometime ago, I decided to stop having sex.
It was a tough decision as I was endeared to someone who constantly demanded ‘his’ share of body; because I did not understand how intimacy was shown outside of touching and teasing; because I did not know any other way to ‘love’. I wanted to know what life felt like outside of it and if I would find better if I stayed away from it. The thought of sex and the act itself had never given me long-lasting joy. So why stick to it?
Sex, around the years when I detested it, was a thing of disgust and a habit at the same time. I hated it because it made me vulnerable, emotional and left me open to all sorts of physical and mental injury. A habit - because of the men who noticed my love for sex and utilized every opportunity to cajole me into wanting it. Unfortunately, they really did leave me wanting.
The only reason I opened up was the hope for better, mind-blowing, back-arching, tear filled, fist clenching, out-of-this-world, pillow-screaming orgasms. Sadly, I never got it then.
Ironically, I got what I was looking for the day I decided to stop having sex.

(Rewind)
I rested on the balcony door and stared at him.
He was a small man with an Afro who liked company even when he did not feel like speaking. This time he was alone in the dark.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“But we both know there’s something wrong. Your ‘nothing is wrong’ line is rather consistent these days.”
“Because there’s nothing wrong Honey. You good?” He asked.
“Yes. I’m good.”
“Ok.”
The silence began again - the one we had been dwelling in for the past two months.
I went into his (bed)room, laid my back on the bed and focused on the ceiling till I dozed off.
The sound of his outer wooden door woke me. My eyes opened but I did not move. I did not want him to know I was awake. I continued my ceiling watch and then dozed off again.
Some minutes later, I was woken by hand movements in my below.
I stiffened.
Not again. He did this too often. Demanding my body when I was as still as a brick.
I wanted to protest but a voice told me not to.
 “Just lie there”, the voice said, “he’d stop”.
But he didn’t.
His hand moved up my tee and gently rubbed my left bosom while he ardently searched for an aroused tit. I did not struggle or try to push his hand away. I kept telling myself I was fighting the flesh, indeed.
Finding a hard nipple was all the consent he needed.
He was that kind of man that spoke to the body, not the owner.
I stiffened still. I would not be overcome by the carnal movement of ordinary fingers, flesh. I was stronger than that. The devil is a liar. I would not yield.
All through the struggle between my body and my spirit, I did not move. I moaned softly once or twice, yet refused to move any part of my body. Amazingly and all through this psychological battle, ‘Uncle’ did not bother to ask me if I liked it, if it was what I wanted, if I was willing. Instead, his hands furthered to my below once more. This time, in the bid to pleasure me - pleasure I did not want, request or imply.
He stroked her gently and continuously.
This was nothing. He would not overcome me. I would not open my legs. No matter how hard he tried. No matter how h..arddd.. he. he…he.. oh.. tried. Oh …my… my.
My body jerked. It won’t stop. Oh my! Oh my! Ohhhh my!
I could feel an orgasm coming.
It surprised me a whole damn lot!
I wanted to ask myself a thousand questions about how this could happen, in the way it did, without no penetration, no verbal or lip-interlocked consent.
It happened.
I screamed that night. I hugged the pillow tightly with my clenched fists while I cried. My head was going to explode.
I pushed his hands away and turned to lie on my side. I wiped my tears and continued to focus, this time into darkness.
It was amazing and sad all at once.
I had planned not to see or visit him after that day.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Eyes Closed

It's 8 pm. I have been thinking about you. All day. 
Darkness is my partner. The sounds of generators working hard in various locations keep my company. I close my eyes to rest but pictures of you flash through my mind. 
I can feel myself in your arms. Your scent lingers on my nose. Your lips brushing mine as you tease me instead of kissing me. Your hands make their way all over my bosom but meet with the hardness of my bra. 
You're not deterred. You rip my buttons and make your way hungrily through my brassiere. I hear the clinking of the buttons as they litter the floor
Naughty boy. You couldn't care less.
I lie there moaning, tossing and turning like there was a snake in my loins. It pleases you. You whisper in my ear, asking if I love you.
Fuck yes, you fool.
You want to please me the more. You tell me you want me to scream till the neighbours hear. You want them to know you're the man. You put your hands in my loins and rub. Rub am, well well. Gently. Softly. Sweetly.
My …

Ms. Producer

We had been fucking for four months. Boyfriend, girlfriends or side peeps, we did not care. We did not pry in each other’s lives and we did not take things farther. I loved him and he said he loved me. Everything was normal and uncomplicated.
Then he had to leave and I became lonely.
We talked every day and practically every minute but I was still lonely. I needed him there but it seemed like he was never coming back.
Then I made a beautiful mistake.
I had made two friends.
A producer and his joint.
We smoked up and cooled down.
Then we took our clothes off in ecstasy and committed a sin against my lover.
We made love and we climaxed. I had never climaxed.
Probably because things were different with the producer.
It was passionate, unlike what I had had with my lover.
My lover dominated me while the producer united with me.
Our mutual friend had enlightened us. He told us that we needn’t worry or care about the circumstances that held us apart. He told us to leave our inhi…

12 years

If I remember clearly, I was about 13, 14 when you first called me. I was in JSS 3 and you were in your second year in university.
You had asked my girlfriend and classmate to give you one of her friends and because she told you I had the biggest boobs, I was your choice. Idiot. LOL.
Our 10-year age difference made you so appealing to me. You were mature and seemed to have a firm grip of everything in your life. When you didn’t, you would simply roll a blunt and say “man cannot kill himself”. LOL.
You were so cool and hot, even though I had no picture of you. Luckily for me I had a Nokia phone back then so communication was easy. Text messages and calls were all we had back then and the fad between opposites sexes was flirting and sexting.
You’re probably the reason I enjoy writing and reading literotica today.
I remember how after we passed the introduction stage, you asked that we play a game called imagine where we would conjure “sexy” scenes and let them play out in our heads….