FRAGILE THINGS

SUNBEAMS DANCE THROUGH THE SLATTED BLINDS INTO THE half lit room where magic is starting to brew. I swear he is an artist. The way Nick softly rubs his wet lips and tongue over her left earlobe: searching and always finding, like an artist intricately painting his filigrees: makes her shudder with riveting desires. Engrossed with pleasurable thoughts Nkem simply closed her eyes, bite into the white pillows with her fingers and allow him paint her because painting a woman rightly: say a woman like Nkem, is a metaphor for the unimaginable brightness of being. Nick: his eyes, fingers, soft lips and all is the explorer, her body is the legendary El Dorado—seek and you will find, pleasures summoning. Nick bends to delicately take her succulent and pointy nipple between his teeth, biting softly. She let out a moan. There is magic too in his teeth. Her lips parted and he slide in his soft tongue, seeking all the hidden treasures and kindling the fire in her mouth. It is a long one. Inside is warm and familiar. He forested her damp and supple stomach with small kisses. Pleasure, unabbreviated. Nick is moving down now. Way down. Slowly. Spreading magic all over supple body.
He rubs his fingers against her black corralled undies before peeling it off her. He puts a toe into his mouth. Sucked. He spreads her legs wide apart, stares into her glowing eyes with a smile at the corner of his lips and buries his face on her soft golden hairs, nuzzling. His fingers probe her love button, drawing a wave of ecstasy before sliding two of them into her moistness. She shudder in deep pleasure. Fingers burrow deeper into the white pillows. Deep warmth envelops him. With his wet tongue he parts her supple slits, buttering her vagina with his lips, relishing the delicious taste of her in his mouth and Nkem cry out, softly in joy—spark of delight convulsing her.
How can she ever leave this man? This man that always finds the right places in her body.

“My turn,” Nkem cried out softly to him.
She made him lie down on the bed facing her. She wants to return the favour. The savoury. The love. She offered him her nipples, like apples, he ate. Sweeter than sin. Relished. Nkem yanks off his boxer shorts and for a long moment cherish his hard, thick cock. The muscles expanding and spreading all over the skin. She kiss the head softly, teasing and she draws a moan and a hunger from him. He wants her. She takes him into her mouth. Suckle. Better than honey. That’s good. Thick. Creamy. A paroxysm of pleasure. She let go expertly when she sensed him coming and kissed him on the lips. Intense. Fire.

Nkem reached down, caressing tenderly with her fingers before straddling him in. Nick can feel himself bursting wide open. Warmth. Wet. Warmth and wet friction at the same time. She grinded against him. Friction is a metaphor. He moan and grew larger inside her. They were like otters playing under water. Hip against hip. She can touch his heart right now and like a goddess, strands sprawling, she rides on him. Taking him to the top of the mountain—their mountain, forged by the fire in their heart, souls and hearts. She felt safe with him inside her. But even in this ecstasy she knows it is the last time any man will ever touch her like Nick does. They rose to pleasurable heights, unimaginable. Intersection. They came together. Shattering. She collapsed on his firm torso. Dampness. Satisfaction.
He wraps his arms around her and plants soft kisses on the golden black strands of her hair. Outside it has started raining. Heavy and battering on the roof.

“Nkem, I love you” Nickolas said.
A tear drops from her eyes. How could she?
“Did you hear what I said?” He asked, nuzzling the side of her neck.
She did. But how does she tell him that this was the last time they will make love together. The words were stabbing her on the inside.

Next month she is going to be Chief Mrs. Ogbonna Egbuife—it’s the only reason Chief agreed to paid her dying father’s medical bills. Nicholas doesn’t deserve this. She is evil. Nicholas doesn’t deserve evil. She bite her lips and tries to follow the dissonance of the careless rain.

WRITTEN BY UMUKORO ISAAC