She stood on the balcony. The view from behind always enthralled me. Her buttocks firmly pressed against the skirt she wore. I remember teasing her about how she could get embarrassed for having too much assets. We always had a good laugh at such jokes. She laughed wildly. Raw. Hearty. Untainted. It was something that made us connect instantly.
“Tess. You wanted to see me.”
“Yes. I called you to come didn’t I?”
Her voice was cracked. She didn’t turn. She didn’t move. She just stood there.
National convention for primary school arts, 2012. That’s where we met. She was an instructor for one of the schools. I was on the organizing commitee. I had poked fun at her in a mild manner about a stain on her blouse. She screamed and ran off to the rest room. Fifteen minutes later, she resurfaced with a new blouse and an appreciative smile. Who packs extra blouse? I wondered. I was fascinated.
“You just saved me from being embarrassed on camera. Thank you.” She was simple and polite. When I asked her to dinner, she gladly obliged. We connected easily as I discovered we had love for about the same things. Friendship grew. I liked things the way it was with her. We talked about many things and everything. With her, I was me. We fell in love with each other. We just never talked about it.
She was crying. I hated that. Seeing her cry broke my heart. I moved to stand behind her. I took her in my arms. She leaned in on me and wept more. She gripped onto my arms like her life depended on it. I took out my kerchief to wipe her tears. It was a futile exercise. I resigned to letting the tears flow. Maybe when she’s done, we’d revisit the kerchief issue. Mama taught me to let people cry. “Just give them a shoulder to cry on. They feel better letting all that bitterness and sorrow flow away with the tears.
“You know you can tell me whatever it is”, I said, turning her to face me. Her eyes were red. Tears loomed around her eyelids without dropping. She held on to me.
Of course she would tell me. I kissed her forehead. And slowly it got a bit intense. She gave me those puppy eyes. I fell for it. Her lips parted. “Abort! Abort!”, my mind screamed. We’ve never kissed. There hadn’t been need for that. I learnt self control with her. But right now, all that self control felt like sinking sand. I was losing grip. I cannot really relate as to what happened next because when my mouth closed over hers, our emotions rained cats and dogs. Hunger. Want. Lust. It all flowed freely. I ravished as as she did same to me. I took her sumptuous breats in my arms and with each gentle squueze, she moaned lightly. I pressed my bulged groin to her body, trailing kisses down her neck, nibbling her earlobes.
I let her go to catch my beath. My head was in the clouds. We’ve both wanted to explore this waters. It didn’t feel odd.
“I’m getting married.”
Her voice was firm. The look in her eyes apt. The words replayed a million times in my head. My lips felt dry. My throat sore. A cold shiver ran down my spine. My knees wobbled. I just couldn’t bear my own weight any longer. There was this eerie feeling that crept into my soul. I looked at her and saw years of yearning and wanting yanked away. I wanted to wake up from this dream.
TO BE CONTINUED…