“Room 302 was tastefully furnished. The well-laid bed beckoned. Patra walked to it and sat down. Good mattress! She watched as the bellboy carefully placed her small luggage in the wardrobe and walked out, closing the door quietly. She kicked off her shoes and reclined on the bed. Her mind went through what happened on Valentine’s Day. “How could Richie do that to me? I gave him my love, everything a wife could give a husband…”
Richie had lost some weight. Who wouldn’t? He barely slept the past four nights. It had been hellish. Friday was his worst Valentine’s Day ever.
Until that day, he had been happy; his beautiful and amiable wife, Patra, had also been very happy. He never planned to keep two homes. “Gawd! Why did I meet Ruth?” Ruth. So innocent, so sweet! His mind raced back to that day, more than three years ago.
He had gone on a business trip to Jos, Plateau State. After work that particular Thursday, he went to Nosa’s house. They were childhood friends and got married same year but Nosa’s family lived in Canada. Nosa’s girlfriend was in the house with her friend, Ruth. “They are both teachers in a local school in town.
The schools are on mid-term break,” Nosa hold his friend, Richie. The two ladies looked alike -not too tall, slim, dark, beautiful and yes, shy. “They are cousins,” Nosa explained and they smiled. Beautiful set of teeth.
Anna was the taller of the two. She appeared to be the senior also. Their smallish frame made it difficult to guess their age. Ruth could hardly look Richie in the eyes. Getting her into a conversation was a task. After dinner, they went to a local pub for drinks. They were served roasted bush fowl with pepper sauce.
While the women took beer, Nosa requested for a local brew. “This is called ‘Power drink’. It’s a drink for brave men,” he told Richie as the bar boy placed two bottles on their table. Richie picked up one of the bottles and examined it. The light was weak, but then, the ‘drink’ was served in a beer bottle with no label. He poured a little into the glass and sipped.
“Hmmmmmmmmm…This tastes good,” he said, and took a mouthful. Ruth had loosened up a bit. Maybe it was the beer. Music was blaring from the speakers. The girls were on their second bottles each. Richie looked at Ruth and she smiled. They couldn’t say much to each other because of the noise, but they seemed to like each other.
After three bottles of ‘Power drink,’ each Nosa paid the bill and they left for the car park. Richie felt a bit light in the head. Every drop of blood in his veins seemed to be moving downward, between his legs.
“This ‘Power drink’ sure has power,” he whispered to Nosa. “You ain’t seen nothing yet. You will wake up very strong in the morning,” Nosa told him. When they got to the car, Nosa asked Anna to join him in the front. Richie and Ruth got into the back. Nosa and Richie talked politics as they drove through the streets.
In-between, Nosa told Richie – in coded language – he could go with Ruth. Did he need any prompting? His body was already on heat. He could swear that every drop of that local brew flowed directly into that part of the brain that would make a man think of nothing else than the pleasure that only a supple body could give. Nosa and Anna spoke in a low tone. She turned to Ruth and they chatted in their local dialect. Ruth relaxed a bit. “Hope you’re good,” he asked her. She replied in the affirmative, without looking up. He touched her right hand.
Very soft and smooth. She didn’t resist him. He held on to the hand until they got to his hotel, about five minutes drive from Nosa’s house.
“Will pick you up at 8am,” Nosa told Richie as he drove off with Anna. Immediately they got into the hotel room, Ruth dropped her little handbag on the table and entered the bathroom, closing the door gently. Richie heard the water running. He changed into boxers, rummaged in his bag and brought out a pack of sheaths. It had been in his bag for a long time.
He was not in the habit of picking strangers but this night was different. Blame it on Power drink. He dropped it beside him. Between his legs, power throbbed. He sat up when the water stopped running. She came out some minutes later with a towel tied loosely around her, holding her gown which she took to the wardrobe and hung.
She looked so beautiful. She smiled shyly at him as she walked towards the bed. Two paces away, the towel dropped, revealing the most beautiful body Richie could swear he had seen in his life. She bent immediately to pick the towel but Richie was there in a flash.
He took her arms and waltz her around, taking in her firm large boobs, flat tummy and wide hips. Only one word came into his mind: goddess! Ruth looked into his eyes and looked down. Her eyes caught the excited man pushing at the cotton boxer.
She dropped on her knees, freed the man who unfurled, standing ‘long’ in its full glory. Immediately she moved her tongue towards it, Richie lost every sense of reasoning. He couldn’t remember how many times he stood and was conquered that night.
The combination of Power drink and Ruth was more than he could handle. He looked at the wall clock, 4.27am. Ruth! He wondered at the strength in that lithe frame. She was sleeping peacefully in his arms.
He took another look at her smooth brown body and got excited again. He removed his arm gently from under her head and she shifted to make herself comfortable and slept on. He raised his head and brushed his lips against her forehead.
Then he saw it. Lying on the bed, close to the edge was the pack of sheaths. Unused! His blood ran cold. “Oh my gawd,” he exclaimed. Patra was on a lonely path, walking. She looked around and saw a car parked in front of a beautiful house. Then she heard the song. “Love is wicked, love is wicked…love is wicked…”
She moved slowly towards the car. Beautiful song! Brick & Lace’s Love is wicked did something good to her senses anytime she heard it. She started swaying to the music as she inched close to the car.
All of a sudden, the car disappeared and the music seemed to rise from inside her. She looked around, scared, made to run and woke with a start. Her phone was ringing. She had dozed off. She reached for the phone, a Blackberry Q10.
It stopped ringing before she could take the call. She wasn’t eager to know the caller. She was in no mood to talk but someone was determined to speak with her. The phone rang again. She looked at it. No name, just numbers.
She allowed it ring out. ‘Love is Wicked!’ Then it rang again. It was Richie. Find out the result of this skin to skin next week. (Culled from New Telegraph)