Friday, July 14, 2017

Secret Betrayer, Episode 8.

I dished and served the rice and goat meat pepper soup at the dinning table. He was waiting already, absent mindedly watching the TV. The silence was eery and made the room quite uneasy, but the aroma of the meal left some hope in the air, makes one breathe in and out.
We talked about Vera over the meal. He wasn’t discreet about what it was Vera did, but somehow, it was a case of misplaced identity, or split personality. I was wondering what Vera could have posed to be, that she actually wasn’t, which turned Collins off in turn. I never got to read their chats or pay too much attention to their long conversations, but whatever it was must have emanated from there.
But then again, why do I care? Fifi doesn’t give a lame shit. I can be anything to Collins. I mean anything. What was Vera even thinking? Come to think of it, I know she is a good girl to the core but one can never tell these days. Fifi, that was all in the past, the task ahead needs all the energy to work it out, not to dwell on the past. I thought.
Collins had moved on and so has Vera. Here I am with the man of my dreams. I assured him I was going to make him forget his past. We locked gazes for a while as he searched my eyes inquisitively.
“Are you sure about this?” He enquired, seeking assurance. I nodded slowly. Satisfied, a smile lined his lips and ended in a smirk. Whatever it was he meant by that, I felt I was at the top of my game.
I cleared the dishes, washed them and retreated to my room to clean up. I felt rejuvenated after the cold shower. I changed into a short silk baby pink tiny strap night gown that was barely long enough to cover my thighs and bum. A glance at the mirror gave me comfort in my exposed protrusion of two pointing towers with the large area of cleavage exposure.
Silent night , Holy night. These words kept echoing in my head as I stepped into the sitting room. I went to the kitchen and returned to the sitting room with a tray of oranges and a pen knife.
He was seated on the double couch, so I joined him. He had tuned in to one of the romance series from an alien channel, so I queued in and asked questions to be updated while I peeled the oranges and gave him some. He had bathed also and changed into his pyjamas which was a checkered sleeveless robe with a long V-neck that exposed his chest area. Collins was damn sexy. I just wanted to kiss those soft lips.
We kept making occasional eye contacts while we discussed the soap opera we were watching together. Something people do often that I’m yet to understand is how we unconsciously shifted until we closed the gap between us only sharing of the oranges could explain. When I had just one left we argued over who would have that one.
“I’ve only taken three now but you’ve had almost ten, it’s not fair” He said pitiably.
“Haba, how many oranges did I even bring here that I’ve taken ten?” I laughed. “You can lie for the whole world.” I joked.
We resorted to sharing the orange. So I halved the orange and gave him one half, but he hesitated and insisted I feed him. I smiled and obliged. If only he knew how excited I was to do that. He was leaning backward towards the arm of the chair with his stretched legs on the table so I had to go all the way leaning over him to feed him the orange. As I made the only possible motion towards his mouth, I could feel the rim of my gown gaping to reveal my dangling boobs. I caught him stealing glances and smiling to himself. I suppressed the smile forcing its way through me.
With a hungry swiftness, he grabbed my buttocks and shoved me into himself. I found myself lying flat against his chest and close enough to feel his breath. He grabbed my head and planted a deep wet kiss on my lips, with those lips I often dreamt about. Collins kissed me.

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