OLDER

Not the same.

The thought was a statement; an evaluation of some sort of the party of friends seated around the fire. Palm wine in hand, the five of them sat at their chairs, no more on the wooden benches it had been twenty years ago.

Twenty years! Two decades, ten years a piece!!!

His mind wrapped around the staggering thought that raised his left cheek in silent acknowledgement. He wondered if he acknowledged the years that had gone by or the ones that had gone before them.

“She wants you”

The voice interrupted his thoughts, a lot like an unwanted guest. It also made him realise he had been staring into his calabash for a tad too long. He looked up at the four of them looking at him with different expressions. They would not question what he had been doing, he was grateful for that. Then he realised their noise should have interrupted his thoughts before then. His brows squeezed together in concentration and he looked at them. Really looked at them. They had the same wistful smile of nostalgia he figured he was wearing on their faces.

“Has it really been twenty years?”

A smile. A concentrated frown. A shrug. A drag of cigarette. A drum of fingers on the calabash. Something had changed. It was the same thing the five men had been doing since they came into the shed ten minutes ago, but this time they had all stopped. Then started again almost all at the same time, like they were controlled by a switch or something had been said to command it. They had come in gay, and none of them was wearing black, but I could swear they were mourning. The question was who, or… what?

“We are not changed, not really. But we are changed, all of us.”

It was Tope. The philosopher of the group, he always said things that made the rest think. Deji looked up then, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with the back of his left palm…

Teeth piercing full bottom lip. A mouth gaping open. Eyes suddenly bigger, threatening to pop out of their sockets. A loud, really loud whistle. A confused face looking back and forth among the other four, seeming to wonder what it had missed. Then a gush of tunes. Laughter. Rich and melody. Dark and aching. Music and baritone. Wheezing and deep. Jolly and playful. I watched. Then listened. It was like a salad, just not quite. Perhaps that explosive taste of marshmallows deeped in mint flavoured chocolate. But then again, not quite. Unable to define it or even classify it, I let the sound of their laughter wash over me. I immersed myself in the sights: one clapping hand, two fingers of the dark one- pointing at the one who had whistled; pointing, but not accusing. The coughing who had some palmwine sputtering out of his nose as his eyes teared even while he laughed. The one with his legs crossed and hands across his chest while his teeth blazed white against red lips as he seemed to hold back more laughter than he was letting out. And the other one holding his stomach like he was scared it would fall out… since the stomach in question was an independent bobbing roundness, I figured that perhaps there was a probable danger of that. It felt strange. I wanted to worship where they were; the chorus of their laughter was divine. They hiccuped into coughs and accusations. Cheery faced men who just moments ago had the burden of age on their minds. Their eyes twinkled as their faces smiled. There might have been creases in their cheeks and rings on their necks, or it might have just been the sun’s fading light casting shadows…

Three hours, the risen moon, many calabashes full and countless reminiscences after, they wouldn’t stop badgering him, so he walked up to her.

There was someone behind you

The sun set behind you… I like watching it.

The third time? Ooh… must have been the car that caused that pandemonium

The fourth time? There was a fourth time? And a fifth and sixth? Erm….

I had run out of all possible and plausible excuses for why I had been staring at him all evening. So I begged my mind to come up with more real soon, as his legs strode lazily but surely towards me.

Oh girl oh girl! Get it together. No! He is not cute. And his beard is not sexy. The easy stride of his legs is not entrancing either. Infact it is lazy. Very very lazy. And no, no , h to the e-l-l no, my pussy is not wetting at the sight of all that masculinity. What masculinity anyway? All that beard and muscle is just…

“Would you come home with me?”

I think my brain short circuited. I had been asked out many times in many different places, and with boys nasty as they are these days I had been propositioned many times. I can’t even recall the number of booty calls I’v picked, but for some reason my brain refused to say something. Or, I was going to say something before…

“Those boys are going to kill me if you remain here alone. So come with me. Or take me with you. I don’t particularly care which; after all I’m only twenty-something.”

He smirked on that last statement, and spread his right hand like he was explaining something not just to me but to himself and something- or someone- else; since we both knew he was way older than that. I was still thinking of what to do when he added:

“I don’t remember what to do with a woman anyway, so you are safe as can be with me”

My eyes must have popped. I felt my mouth drop open. I wanted to say something but then I remembered a voice I had heard in the movie, Dracula: Untold “let the games begin”. I picked my clutch, grateful my parents were out of town; and looked him straight in the eyes. I don’t know what he saw, but he bowed to me, a slight dip of his forehead; and I knew I had just been worshiped. I realised then that I could be worshiped as the goddess that I am. The knowledge hit me full hard, and I think I swooned from the intoxication of it before my warrior steeled my sway with gait and music…

I walked to the sitting room after my bathe. I had told him to get comfortable after his bath; after all I couldn’t jump the bones of a man who did not remember what to do with a woman. Or, could I? He was still watching the action thriller I had tuned the station to before going to my night-time bath slash indulgence. I smiled. Then took a step closer to the chaise lounge, my altar for the night…

Exotic fruits.

The thought sailed by his brain, labelling the scent closing in on him. It made him feel hungry. He smiled; decided the palmwine had burnt all the food he had eaten in the afternoon, and all the variously spiced meat he had eaten between gulps of sweet tasting ‘emu ogidi’. She stepped in front of him then, polished ebony shining with water droplets. He swallowed. Once, twice; then sat up straight. Rainbows were playing on her skin, light from whatever had been showing on the t.v screen making her a body of diamonds. He stared at the flat plane of stomach, affixed to the round dip of dark cave in the middle. He wanted to lick it. He thought he might find the teasing aroma of vodka was coming from that secretive depth. She must have known his thoughts, for she stepped forward then; a tempting stretch that reminded him of the big cats…

His eyes adored me as I had known they would. Perhaps the elastic of his jaws had slackened; because his mouth hung open and his tongue stole out to steal a lick… that of the thirsty man seeking fluid, so I stepped forward…

Cold. Glass at his lips. His mind puzzled, then focused as his eyes looked lower, to the glass in her hand, at his lips. There really had been vodka in the air; only it had not been from her belly button, but from the cup he hadn’t realised she had been holding. He opened his lips to take some of the clear liquid, closed his eyes to the fire he knew would burn his insides before settling. It went down slowly, but had not quite settled yet before another heat started; this one outside him. He opened his eyes and gasped as her tongue swirled around his nipple, not quite touching, just stocking fire, bridging his wires and causing goosebumps to rise on his skin. He wanted to say something, but nails were lining his lips; and messing with his brain. One finger stole beyond his lips, and he suckled on it. It tasted of ice-cream, and it was all too much…

“Hold up. Can’t last. Please.”

He sounded like a drowning man. Gruff, begging, and breathless. I sat in his laps then, happy with myself when something wooden poked at me rather insistently. I wiggled on it in acknowledgement. He whizzed, and I felt cold lips tug on my nipple just before warmth rolled it; causing me to camber into the sweet torment.  I needed to do something so I reached for him, but his hand caught mine and held it behind my back, thrusting my unattended nipple stabbing at the air, just before fingers of his free hand caught it and rolled it into aching tips of desire. A scream. I recognised my voice. It was just sound. The real noise was the blood roaring in my head, pounding in my heart, and rushing to my soaking pussy…

I could be whoever I wanted with her. Her taste was intoxicating; it made me want to be many people. I heard her scream; it was balm to my aching soul. I hadn’t even known I had been aching, but now I felt I could be conqueror and king. She had me conquered, so I wanted revenge; yet I wanted desperately to worship her. I wanted to show her a lot, to take her places; yet I did not have the strenght. I could question my virility, but not so my experience. My jeans was wetting, and I wasn’t sure if it was me or her, so I put my hand to her heated orifice as I moved to suckle on the nipple it had been kneading. My thoughts scarmbled for a minute as I encountered her honeyed, erect clit. She was by now grinding on me and begging me when I explored her lips, noting them wet and slippery. I sliced my middle finger through her folds; then bit her nipple sharply as her pussy contracted on it and she rocked on me. I looked down, watched as my finger emerged wet and glistening even as she begged me to please get it back in. My mouth watered, and before I could really think I had switched our positions so she lay beneath me. The shock of it opened her eyes, and I held her gaze as I lowered my mouth and licked at her heated honey…

I raised off the chaise lounge. I however didn’t get off. One of his hands held my thighs apart so he could feed on my pussy, and the other held my waist so I could not drift far from him. I begged, screamed, cried, and he did it time and again… took me just to the edge of orgasm then blew on me to bring me down again. I needed to cum very badly; my wires were all tangled up and on the edge. I put my hands to my nipples and began to tug on them, roll them. He must have felt me tense, because just as I was on the edge again he deserted me. I cried out in frustration, feeling helpless, and clamped my thighs together to quell the wet yearnings. I denied him when I felt his hand try to part them again, but he kissed my lips and I tasted his hunger and his remorse. He lifted me against his kneeling self, my thighs slid apart to embrace him, and I felt him nudge at my entrance, strong and big. Really big. Like scary big big…

“Easy Baby. Relax. Let me in. Won’t hurt you. Promise”

I kissed her, then lifted her higher, suckled on her nipple. I was begging her to let me in. I was dying to get in, but I had felt her and knew she needed to relax for me to please her. She made little noises, and I rolled my waist, teasing her clit. She was soon trembling against me, and I didn’t stop. When she touched her other nipple, I impaled her on my cock; and held tight to her as thrills raced up and down my spine…

I was going to die. I was sure of it. He was huge, I felt invaded, and I had only accepted his head. I felt him move inch after tortous inch, even as he suckled on my nipple and tickled my g spot. I began to quiver. I had wanted to conquer him and I guess I had done that, but he was staking my castle. I began to move with him; I needed to cum. Every movement moved him one inch deeper, and took me that closer to orgasm. Suddenly, he bit my nipple, plunged in deep, and fingered my clit….

Cream and clenching contractions. I grind my teeth against the desires jagging my insides, buried myself to the hilt inside her slickened by her cum, crawled to the wall so I could have one hand free, then tweaked her clit while sucking on her nipple and fucking her deep and hard with each thrust. I heard her gasp, then scream.

“What are you doing to me? Ooh please. Don’t… stop. Aaah. Oooh. Yes. Please… yes”

Her tears of fulfilment blessed my shoulders as she perhaps lost count of her cum. I felt her nails scrathing me, forcing me closer, as she lost all control and bit my shoulder. I lost my hold, and released my seed deep into her, filling her with my cum as I trembled and lost knowledge of everything outside the woman with ragged breathing in my arms….

He carried her, her arms clasped around his shoulder and her head nested in the crook of his neck. As he lowered her into the bath tub, the image in the mirror caught his eye and the thought flitted across his mind again…

Not the same. This time he added:

Older. Better.

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