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The Way She Winds

He knew the guilt would last for weeks but he drove to her place anyway. Excitement flooded his veins and he smiled to himself. At last ,he was going to let it go, let the dragon out. Eight years ago he would never have imagined doing something so risque, so sinful. Eight years. Time had hurtled by, yet sometimes it felt like a fortnight. Even now he could remember every detail of the first time they met.

*

He was jogging down the road one Saturday morning. Diabetes ran in his family and he was doing his best to beat the odds. His entry level job at private firm kept him submerged in work all week but on weekends he could take a few deep breaths before going under again.

He rounded a bend and heard a woman scream. A young lady was being hassled by some boys. He ran up to them and they fled. The lady was lying prone on the side walk sobbing. Her ankle length jean skirt and long sleeved blouse quivered with each groan.

“Hey, it is okay. They are gone. You are safe now.”

She was new in the area, visiting her aunt during a brief break. Before the incident she was making her way home from prayers. Oscar liked that in a woman, a spiritual side, something more beyond just looks.

He liked other things too: her full lips, the gold flecks in her eyes, her ample curves and her laugh that warmed his insides faster than a cigar. They courted for a few weeks, got married, had a baby,then everything changed.

The doctors said it was a mild case of the blues–post natal depression– nothing to worry about. He watched as she shrunk into herself, refusing food and refusing him. With medication her appetite for food returned but her desire for him disappeared.

At first he thought nothing of the days of coaxing, begging and bribing it took to get her to sleep with him, but soon it became silly, then tiresome, then repulsive.

The worst part was that even when she agreed, the act was as warm as an iceberg. She would lie on her back as still as a corpse, staring at some unseen sight, miles away from him. Not involved. Uninterested.

He had hoped things would get better with time. Age was said to improve a woman’s libido. He hoped in vain. Last month, while he was making love to her, she slipped on her earphones and began hum. When he slipped out of her and stormed out of the bedroom, she didn’t call him back.

By making discrete enquiries he had found Oasis, a place where men like him could get succour. The first time he went there he was overcome with shame. He was a father for goodness sake. A respectable man. But even as he battled with himself, he knew he would be there again.

His phone rang and he frowned as he picked.

“Hello, Katrina”

“Hello Daddy”

“How are you?”

“Fine. Daddy where are you?”

” I am at work.”

“But Mum just called your office number and she was told you left an hour ago.”

“I had to get something to eat and drop somethings off at the bank. Why is your mom looking for me?”

“I don’t know. Daddy when are you coming home?”

“I don’t know honey. I still have a lot to do: reports to write, letters to reply…. I’ll try to be home as soon as I can. ”

“Promise?”

“Promise”

“Okay Daddy, see you soon. Bye”

“Bye dear”

Oscar groaned inside and dropped the call. What was with kids of these days anyway? Imagine his 7 year old daughter playing police with him. So, Maria was calling him at the office?! He took a deep breath and decided to put the phone call behind him when his phone rang again.

This time it was Yolanda.

“Hello Oscar, Oscar? Can you hear me?”

“Yolanda, what is it?”

“Where are you? I have been calling all your numbers and I even called your office. When are you coming home? The pipe in the bathroom came loose and the generator isn’t starting and Rambo is retching at the backyard.”

” So why are you calling me? I am an accountant, woman. Not an electrically endowed plumber-vet! Call Silas to come see the pipes, ask Ade to have a look at the generator and call Dr. Idris, his number is on the kennel. Give me a break for heaven’s sake.”

“Oh! So that’s all you have to say? After leaving home all day I call you in an emergency and that’s all you have to say? Oscar! –”

He dropped the call and switched his phone off bristling with the peculiar irritation of the sex-starved, work-stressed, guilt-rankled male and drove to Bimbo’s house.

The gate-man let him in and he drove past halo-shaped street lamps to a cottage styled BQ behind the large house. Bimbo was waiting for him at the door with a glass of chapman and ice.

“Hey sailor, what took you so long.”

“Lots of stuff. I am glad I made it.”

Bimbo smiled and led him to her boudoir. The lights were a dim lilac but he could make out the couch.

“Use the towel on the dresser. Press the button beside it when you are ready.”

Oscar did as he was told and lay face down on the padded couch. Soft instrumental music played from a central system and a pout pourri of soothing scents filled his lungs. He closed his eyes and imagined himself faraway, on a beach in Hawaii, surrounded by coconuts, palms and a bevy of bikini clad beauties.

Then he felt her fingers on his back. She was rubbing something cool and evanescent on his back followed by an aromatic oil that had traces of menthol.

She worked deftly, running her fingers up both sides of his spine. When she stroked, kneaded and stretched his muscles, he felt the week’s frustrations leaving him, rocks rolling down a cliff. When she began to tap and chop down his spine, he groaned in relief.

She was everywhere. Kneading , bending, tapping and chopping without a word.

” I want to use something new on you,” she said. “It is called The Dolphin. It will loosen your deep muscles and give you a longer lasting sense of relaxation. Would you like to try it?”

“Yes. Yes please.”

The Dolphin was a hand held deep massage device shaped like a leaping dolphin. The snout was replaced by a revolving ball that vibrated when placed on skin. Bimbo guided the snout over his arms and back avoiding the joints.

Then she let her lips continue from where The Dolphin stopped. She lay on him, her body warmth enveloping him. Then she flipped him over and straddled him. As he watched her wind on him with so much passion something erupted in him and he wasn’t in control anymore. He was like a starving man at a buffet. Taking more and more still trying to have everything. When it was over, he couldn’t stand.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You are welcome. You look like you could use some rest. Take your time. If you doze off, I’ll wake you in thirty.”

“You are an angel.”

“I know,” Bimbo said as she sashayed away.

Let’s Make Love

Let’s make love in the morning,
My desk is crammed,
Paperwork
Followed me home
Seamless trail
Of tasks,questions
Challenges and problems.

Let’s kiss later
I have so much
Calling for my attention
Pots and pans
Homework
Has everyone taken
Their cough syrup?

Slowly
That’s how it happens
Till you are suddenly
Left all alone
And there is
Nothing else left,
But empty arms
And the rancid taste
Of regret.

Falling In Love With A Poet

You are a hardworking man. There is no other way your farms would flourish and your businesses would turn up a profit in that lunatic’s land that is Aba,  Abia State. Nkechi caught your eye on a fine Sunday morning in church. Her knee length skirt emphasised the curve of her hips and her blouse hugged a full bosom. Her gentle, shy smile in a bespactacled  face the colour of roasted  cashew won your heart.
She didn’t care much for truffles. Gifts that left your previous girlfriends screaming met her smile and a faraway look in her eyes. She was always reading or writing something on her phone. When you asked her she shrugged “Oh, those are my poems.” Then you bought her a Tablet and for once her eyes lit up, she hugged you spinning like a merry go round.
The wedding was quiet. She didn’t like crowds and you preferred to keep costs down. On your wedding night she wouldn’t respond to any of your caresses. You touched, kissed, stroked and humped. She lay there,  absent-mindedly smoothing the curly hair on your nape. One day, you got upset
” What is it woman? are you frigid?”
She was silent for a  while.
Then she said ” I only get turned on by words.”
Your heart sank. You knews numbers and planting seasons  but not words. Hell, you hardly spoke words.
“I don’t talk much” you murmured.
“You don’t have to” She replied looking into your brown eyes.
And so you began to say what you felt. In a drizzle , then in a flood,your words fell like fire and licked up her ice.
Before long there was no more numbness.
Just a whirlpool of molten magma, crashing its way to the sea.
And a man changed by learning to love as you did it.

For The Love Of It

They think I am here for money
For the fleeting lure
Of riches.
They have heard tales of many,
The orphaned girl,
The stranded wife,
Many such tales
Women use
To explain their plight,
But few
Have met a worker
Like me,
I was born for this
The way baby eagles are born to fly
My entire youth was preparation
To please men
Ease men
Of their frustrations.
I am no desperado
I am a maestro
So spare me your
Pity and your contempt
Keep them
For your soul
For in the end I will be doing what I love to while
You
Will be slaving for a pittance at a rich man’s dream
Fair trade it seems.