SEXCAPADE OF NATASHA – 28
By Emdee David
“So, what next?” Cynthia says to Ken as she wears her pants.
The second sex bout had been more vigorous and
intense. She enjoyed it, and had confessed so to the heart-broken pastor.
“Go home, let me think,” replies Ken. “I will call you when I need you again?”
“You will call me when you need me?” Cynthia frowns. “So I am now a call-girl to you? Common, give me some respect.”
“It’s not what you think….”
“Of course, not what I think but what you said,” Cynthia stands in anger and wears her bra and her blouse. She searches for her shoes which are directly in front of her. “You were miserable yesterday. I came to comfort you, and now your countenance has changed. You are happy, smiling and am sure you would love this to be forever; now you are saying…” she begins to cry. Ken stands from the bed to meet her.
“I am sorry, Cynthia…” Ken begins to say, but Cynthia cuts in.
“Call me baby,” she says, not smiling.
“Okay, baby… my baby. I am sorry; I don’t see you as a call-girl. You are my comforter. These angels…,” he touches her breasts. “…these wonderful Angels have comforted me…and led me to a green pasture…” he now touches her private part. She smiles.
“So you know,” she says and rubs his cheek.
“Yes, I do…that’s why I said I will call you,” Ken says, his hands now on her shoulders. “I just want some time to think….and maybe pray….”
“Didn’t you pray about Natasha…?”
“I did, very well. But….”
“But it’s not all about prayers. It’s about happiness and satisfaction. If my “goodness” and “mercy” follow you…” she touches her breasts, holding them and pointing them towards him. He laughs.
“My rod and my staff can never mislead me.”
“I just hope your brain is a good shepherd,” Cynthia says and begins to kiss him. “I have to go.”
“I will call you.”
Andy is already waiting for her in her room. He had
once seen where she keeps her house key, under a flower pot beside the house.
“And where have you been since yesterday night? Your phones were switched off,” he says when she enters. She ignores him, drops her phone on the dressing table, and her bag on the floor beside it. She goes into the bathroom. Andy calls her, but she only answers with the sound of the shower.
Cynthia’s phone rings. Andy stares at it; it’s an
international number. He allows two more rings and then picks.
“Hello,” the caller says; it is a female voice.
“Hello, who is this please?” Andy says, with a not-too-polite tone.
“Ohhhh, Ken…” Natasha says from the other end of the line. Andy is quiet and listening, wondering why the caller would assume his Fiancée is with his boss. “Ken, so because I am not around you are hanging out with my friend. Ok o. Keep it up…I will be back soon. You will see.”
“Hello, who is this please?”
And the line goes off.
Andy keeps the phone. Cynthia has been out of the bathroom, watching, wrapped in a white towel from her breasts down to a distance before her knees.
“So, you now pick my calls, eh?” Cynthia asks. “You just invaded my privacy by coming to my house, without my consent. And now, you are picking my calls? What kind of husband will you be sef?”
“Where did you sleep last night?”
“In the Library. Daddy, you know I am writing my WAEC….I was reading,” Cynthia mocks with a teenager’s voice. She is creaming her body now.
“Don’t I have the right to know?” Andy is angry.
Cynthia chuckles sarcastically.
“You have not paid my bride price o, remember? You can wait until after our wedding reception, then you can start claiming right over me. Just pray I don’t go the Natasha way.”
“The Natasha way? Oh, so she left her husband on her wedding day for you to take over?”
Cynthia turns in shock and then laughs sarcastically. Andy is angry and then rushes to her and slaps her on the cheek. She screams and jumps up. Her towel falls off. She is naked, crying.
“You slapped me?” she says. “You bastard, get out of my house, now.” Andy stands, just looking. She goes into the kitchen and gets a knife. He goes in to meet her, holds her from behind, trying to seize the knife from her. She screams the more, cursing him, and trying to free herself from his grab. But he holds her firmly, now pleading.
“I am sorry, baby, I don’t know what came over me. I am sorry, please, drop the knife….” His words make her cry and struggle the more. He was firm on her. Then he starts to lick her shoulder and neck with his tongue.
“Stop it, stop it!” She shouts, but he continues. He then releases her hands and grabs her breasts instead. She pushes him, but his erect penis is already rubbing on her buttocks, and his tongue is all over her neck and ears. Both activities are transmitting heat and chemical reactions into her sensual circuit. Gradually, she begins to succumb to the pleasure he is igniting. Gradually, Andy loosened his belt and zip. His boxers go down as well and he starts to feel her flesh directly. As voltage rushes into her brain, Cynthia drops the knife and bends backwards, supporting herself with her hands on the kitchen cabinet. Andy penetrates her from behind and her cry takes another tone. At first, he misses the right hole, but she helps him to locate the wider, softer and sweeter place.
Her phone rings but she ignores it. Twenty minutes
later, she comes out naked to meet her caller sitting on her cushion chair. She
screams and Andy rushes out, but Cynthia blocks the kitchen door to stop Andy.
“Don’t worry, I know it’s him,” Vera says, smiling.