Adventures of Bobby The Yoruba Demon 14
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The tears welled up in her eyes now. She was out and in the cold, drifting through the events that had taken place in the house. The passion..the seduction…the altercation. A harrowing anticlimax to all that had seemed so true. She could still feel the smoldering look in his eyes and the shudders that made her giddy with excitement. That moment had been sacred. There was nothing else that mattered. But in a flash, her dreams of convulsing in the darkness of lust ebbed. And now, all she could feel was a desire to erase his words and his desire from her system. All of a sudden, she needed to be alone again.
He must have stood there for over a minute. His well built frame tormenting her in ways she hadn’t felt before. She could see his outstretched hands coming towards her. Damn, she must have had just too much to drink and she had to sober up if she would appreciate the warmth of this hunk that now stands right in front of her.
“My name is Emeka,” he said, with a husky voice that tingled her warmly. He was too close for comfort even though if they were a inches of breath apart. Her eyes darted in, sizing him up and suppressing the urge to bite her lips. And the more he piqued her curiosity, the more she became aware of the swelling mound that was her bosom and the taut nipples that were now visible through her soft Kente top. Her cleavage rising and heaving like bubbly milk dripping into industrial cans.
She took his outstretched hand and smiled a wink.
“I am Fidelia. Delly wouldn’t be a stress, I hope. And it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She was flushed with embarrassment now. Oh, damn girl, she thought to herself. You gotta behave your naughty self.
“Yeah, and that’s my friend Dumebi.” She continued. Looking towards her friend with a knowing smile as their perfect stranger took a seat just beside her.
Emeka smiled sweetly then. His eyes a soft hue of charm and blue. He had already introduced himself to Dumebi but yet extended a warm hand , this time, to shake her.
“Once again, it’s a pleasure, Dumebi. My father would always say: “A man must always cherish the hands of a woman. For with those hands, she makes or breaks a man.” So, I would gladly be introduced to you again and again.” It was a masterstroke. A ploy that would serve as bait for the one he desires.
“Your father must have been quite the romantic.” Dumebi said. Her voice almost a whisper in the din of shuffling feet and tilting music. One by one, the rendezvous crooners were gaining passage into the dome as the clubbing was underway.
“Well, you could say that again. Man prides himself in the sublime art of passion and friction.” He looked into the waiting eyes of Delia and gasped. Buckling under the weight of her curious eyes.
It startled him that she didn’t complain when he held her hand. She smiled and looked away. He wanted to do more than hold her hands. He had seen that deep sense of need in her eyes. A burning desire to have a man who loves her. A husband who can make love to her and plumb the depths of her essence lusciously. She deserved the intense intimacy of passion and was willing to get it, however she could.
“The air is chilly now, ladies. And I think some club time and good Ale will do that. What do you think?” Emeka implored, with his fingers still covering the tender hands of Fidelia.
“About time I think. The energy is on some wild level tonight in there. What say you, Nne?” Delia asked beseeching. She knew Dumebi had a thing against clubs and the boggling music but she needed this and hoped her friend won’t spoil the night for them.
Dumebi sighed. Tonight wasn’t one to be a killjoy. This charming hunk had got her friend’s lust on speed dial and she was all for her losing steam. Nobody has died from some waltzing and forbidden desires. Body no be firewood.
“Alright then. I’ll just have to go with you guys but I ain’t dancing. The loudspeakers are enough torment for my soft ears.”
Emeka smiled reassuringly at her as he helped Fidelia up. And at that instant he noticed other things that pleased his eyes. She was an Amazon. Her over 5’11 height blended well with her voluptuous bootie. He let his hand encircle her from behind to feel it like a pawn artist. And damn, this was gonna be one helluva ride.
She sat there confused. How he must hate her now and for what? She could have prevented the big mess but she didn’t. She just couldn’t understand how her best friend couldn’t find her desirable. She lost a good man for this madness. No, make that two good men and her best friend.
She needed to go. This wasn’t worth it and she needed to find solace in her own house. Wait, it was nearly Dawn. She knew cos he had come in drunk without even stopping by her door. The moment had made her pale. The stark reality of how her ride-or-die wasn’t riding with her no more.
C. Ovie
