We were in the hotel room, Emenike’s gift to me. Our wedding reception had ended barely an hour earlier, and most of our invitees, those who had come all the way from Agbawka and Umunachi, were putting up in our house at the college quarters. There were over twenty of them, most of them would have to sleep on the floor after the three beds and the couch had been seized up by the faster ones among them. Even if the house was empty, I would have leaped to Emenike’s suggestion that we spend the night away from the familiar, and Progress Hotel was as good as it came. There was a colour television, which I didn’t watch because Emenike was in the mood for loving the second we were checked in. There was a shower, which I also didn’t use because Emenike wouldn’t wait any longer to undress me. His own clothes were on his body one minute and the next they were gone. The urgency, however, vanished once we were both naked and on the bed. Leisurely, he kissed, licked, sucked, and prodded. It was nice. It was completely out of my depth as well.
“Yes, you are.” I smiled up to him, feeling a sweet rush of heat as his well toned torso pressed against me.
“That’s great.” He then kissed me, his tongue rolling round the roof of my mouth. He had never kissed me like that ever before. In fact, he had never done any of the things he was now doing to me.
“What should I do?” I asked, even as I moaned in pleasure.
“I am, but I want you to enjoy it too no.” I had been stroking his head, and shoulder. But compared to all he was doing, it felt very inadequate.
“Did I tell you that I’m not?” His lips then engulfed my right nipple, as he kneaded the other breast with the hand that wasn’t exploring my lady part.
I don’t suppose most newly wedded wives went about wondering on whose body her husband had harnessed his sexual prowess, but I couldn’t help it. The old worry resurfaced, that despite denying it, he had slept with Abby and had now found her immeasurablely better at sex than I. And I tensed up.
“What is it? Is it paining you?”
“No, it’s alright.” It wasn’t really alright. All that stimulations happening at the same time, each one distracting me from the other. I wished it could ask how much longer the foreplay was going to last. That would kill his mood.
He picked up on it from my eyes though, and sat up. “Come.” He pulled me up to a sitting position too. “Do as if you are sitting on me.”
“Sit on you kwa?” I was confused.
“Yes, so I can enter inside you. Just do as if you want to sit on me, but don’t sit down o. like this, you can move the way you want.”
Now I was lost. “I don’t understand.”
He sighed, but quickly hid his disappointment. “Come, I’ll show you small small.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Eh, that’s why I said I’ll show you now.”
It felt kind of silly squatting over him, watching his erect phallus, knowing he meant it to disappear into me in a minute. Maybe I shouldn’t look at it, I thought. I should close my eyes and focus. He was my husband after all, I was his wife, and we were about to make love.
Drawing himself closer, Emenike encircled one hand on my shoulder. “Ehen, like this.” His other hand was holding his member, ready to guide it in.
It wasn’t a romantic sight. It was nothing like the image I had painted of how sex would be from the novels I read. But then, doing it with Kanyianene had been nothing like the novels either. Kanyianene wasn’t naked. He had his shirt on the entire time, and his trouser was only down to his knees. I hadn’t seen his penis; my skirt had covered it from view. I hadn’t wanted to see it, actually. I had been much occupied worrying about the pain from the first penetration and if I would stain my pant when my hymen breaks. Emenike, in contrast, was baring everything. Was it the confidence that came with being well-endowed, of being well versed in the act? Suddenly, I had the urge to confess.
“I’m not a virgin.” It just seemed crucial that he should know that before we proceeded any further.
“I know,” he said.
I panicked. “How did you know?” Did anyone in Agbawka know I slept with Kanyianene? And did those people then tell Emenike? Or could he have drawn that conclusion by himself – since I was after all engaged to the man, we may have sampled the goods beforehand?
“Osinachi, what is the problem?”
“There’s no problem.”
“No, I think there’s really a problem somewhere. Is it that you don’t want us to do this thing or what? After the igba-nkwu, you said nothing nothing. You refused to even sleep in the same room with me, not minding that you’re going to return to Agbawka the following day. I said ok, is that not so? We did registry, again you said nothing o; that you want us to wait till the church wedding. Osinachi, did I quarrel with you? No. Now, we’ve done everything there is to do for us to fully be man and wife, still you don’t want to cooperate. I don’t know what it is again I can do to please you, so tell me the truth, do I have body odour?”
Up until the last sentence, I had been grimacing with anxiety. Then when he said that, I burst out laughing. Of all things, why on earth would Emenike think that? “Ah ah, of course not. You’re funny.”
“It’s not a laughing matter, Osy,” but he cracked a little smile, nonetheless. “And you’re the one who told me with your own mouth that you’re not a virgin. Why are you now making it an issue?”
“I told you? When was that?”
“I can’t remember. You’ve told me many things, my dear. I don’t stamp their date in my head.”
He could be right. “So, you don’t mind.”
“See me see problem o. Why will I mind?” He was exasperated.
“And you don’t mind that even though I’m not a virgin, I don’t know what I’m doing?”
“Ha! This girl, your trouble is too much. Just answer me one question, am I complaining?”
“But, you may be complaining in your mind.”
“Eh, then wait for me to start complaining the one you’ll hear first now. See what you and your plenty problems have caused. I’ve gone down.”
Emenike was flaccid all right. “I’m sorry.”
He laughed. “The way you’re saying this your ‘I’m sorry’, it’s as if the thing is dead. It’s only sleeping. Once you touch it small, it’ll wake up again.” As he spoke, he led my hand to his penis, and stroked it. After a few pointers, I followed his lead and do it all by myself. I wasn’t satisfied with the result though.
“Can I do another thing? This one is not working.”
“Just continue doing what you’re doing. It’s little by little, ok? Another day, I’ll teach you how to do it with your mouth, the way I used my mouth for you.”
I liked it a lot when he did that. So, I grinned suggestively, “Will you do it again?”
“Do what? Use my mouth? Anything for you, my beautiful bride.”
When he put his tongue on me, a tingle went through my spine, and I stretched myself out on the bed, letting my mind go to pleasant places. Emenike may have mistaken my outward inactivity to mean disinterest, because he zipped right into intercourse, jolting me.
“Move with me,” he gasped.
Move where? Move how? But Emenike just kept saying ‘move with me, move with me’, that I frantically started pushing my buttocks up and down in a manner that was out of sync with his thrusting.
“Wait small,” he paused, and slipped his hand to the small of my back. “It’s not like that, Osy. What you’ll do, eh, is to follow the way my hand is moving. Don’t worry. Very soon you’ll master it. Ok?”
He kissed me. “Fine. Let’s continue.”
It may have started out pretty awkward, but at the end of the day, it was a good experience. Emenike was happy. I was relaxed. And we talked well into the early hours of the next day, and then slept in each other arms.
© Flourishing Florida – An excerpt from her upcoming novel.