Okon had seen his face.
When he turned away from locking his car he had briefly locked eyes with the other man. It had been barely for a second but it was enough. The gateman’s face ran through a mix of emotions: recognition, surprise, disbelief before finally settling into a lewd, secret smile. He had anticipated it in the scheme of things and in return, quickly dipped his head before heading into the big house after his host.
Drumming his fingers on the arm of the sofa in Shola’s lavishly furnished living room with his other hand wrapped around a drink she had poured him from the bar, he waited for her return from her bedroom upstairs. Between admiring the all too familiar decor and wondering what sort of stupid playlist she had put on the stereo, he replayed the evening in his head.
Since he had offered her a ride a week before when her car had conveniently broken down, all their texts, phone calls and instant messaging had led to the dinner that they had just had. They had been out to a place he knew she hadn’t been before and just to be sure, he had asked her.It had been a slow night for the restaurant, weekdays usually were.
She had of course made sure to order something very expensive off the menu that she couldn’t even pronounce but he didn’t mind. He had reveled in the sensation that came from her feet repeatedly brushing against his leg, languidly tracing circles under the table and the sultry way her eyes undressed him all through the meal, the way she leaned over when she spoke coupled with her low cut dress had caused a dull, pleasurable ache in the front of his expensive, tailored trousers. Afterwards, they had come back to her place, on her insistence, for a late drink. He smiled, such a lame cover-story.
None of that had really been necessary for him: not dinner, not the constant back and forth with the flirty messages or the weak excuse she had invented just to get him in her house; he had already marked her down as his since he’d first laid eyes on her. He could have had her whenever he wanted and he knew it. But it was the excitement borne by this toying around and seductive play that kept him. It was exhilarating playing a game that he had already won, everything he did became a part of some sort of ceremony in preparation for the inevitable. Heck,even the meal had had some sort of significance. It was like the ritual of a predator stalking its prey; certain protocols had to be observed, certain roles had to be played out. It was the thrill of the hunt.
He glanced at his watch impatiently and suddenly stopped drumming his fingers. Maybe it was thinking about the way she made it so obvious that she wanted to fuck him, practically spreading her legs for him at every chance she could or it was having to remember the disgusting way the gateman had smiled at him; irritating little notion like they shared some sort of bond. Or it was possibly because he had reached his breaking point with the stupid music on the stereo which was slowly killing him inside, grating on his mind, fucking with his thoughts.
But something in his mind snapped and he couldn’t wait any longer.
He took the stairs slowly to the first floor of the house with his hand gliding effortlessly over the smooth, polished wood of the banister as he went, his heels clicking oddly on the tiles. He found the intricately carved, heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor as on all his previous visits, but this time he wasn’t so careful when he threw the door open without a knock.
Shola who was standing in the middle of the room jumped in surprise to face him, clad in nothing but a black thong. She recollected herself quickly and wordlessly raised an eyebrow at him, smiling provocatively. A ripple ran through him at the sight of her perfect body: tiny waist, toned thighs, turgid nipples, smooth skin. She edged slowly towards the bed; her dark lustful eyes propelling him across the room to her.
She undid the buckle on his belt, all the while squeezing and stroking him through his trousers. The low, dull hum of his zipper being pulled down brought his attention back to her. He watched her take short breaths and lick her lips while her hands worked eagerly at freeing him.
“You’ll need to take a sit for this” she winked turning him to sit on the bed while she got on her knees between his legs. He jerked slightly at first when he felt the light pressure of her tongue and let out a sigh when the warmth and moisture of her mouth enveloped him. He closed his eyes and took to running his hands through her hair when the pleasure was almost unbearable. He bit his lip and moved his pelvis in rhythm with her mouth. Then she stopped abruptly.
His eyes flew open angrily and he grabbed the back of her hair..
“Who asked you to stop?”
But her mistake was trying to reply because as soon as she opened her mouth to speak he rammed his penis into it. With her head firmly gripped in his hands, the choking sounds she made as he roughly pushed himself deeper into her throat gave him just as much pleasure as her tears as she tried to pull away from him.
His hands moved from being buried deep in her hair to encircling her throat in a tight grip, and she began to claw desperately as his thumbs dug in.
“What’s the matter?” he asked in a soft whisper, “You don’t like it rough?” his voice was so low it was almost a hiss. She was finding it hard to speak with her mouth full “I know you like this; I’ve seen your toys.” There was something satisfying in the way her arms flailed about while her eyes bulged; a vein throbbed beautifully in the middle of her forehead. He held another human’s life in his hands and felt like a god. The power was ecstatic.
It was an aphrodisiac.
It was arousing.
It was mind-shattering.
And then he came, buried deep in her throat, shaking from the force of his orgasm..
He got to his feet and left her coughing and spluttering in a ball on the floor beside the bed.
It was a relief to be able to breathe again and Shola sucked in the precious oxygen. Sweet Jesus!.
Which kyn rough play be all this one now?
Her throat was on fire and every breath she took burned like a motherfucker.
She fought the stiffness in her muscles and raised herself to a sitting position, leaning against the bed watching Ahmed walk across her room to her dresser and wondering what sort of crazy person he was. She was used to fetishes, some a bit daring but this was something else, and worst of all he hadn’t even warned her.
A cold, dank feeling of dread clutched at her heart as she watched him pull out the last drawer in the bottom of her dresser; the one where she kept her sexual propaganda. Her cause of discomfort wasn’t because he had opened it; it was the unfaltering way that he casually reached for it, slipped his hand inside knowingly, like he knew exactly what would be there. The realization hit her low and hard: this man had somehow been inside her house unnoticed; there was no other plausible explanation. And there was only one way that could have happened.
Hai! Okon you have killed me!
He turned to her slowly with dark, unreadable eyes; her silver handcuffs dangling off the end of his fingers. The ones she had specifically gotten because Nasir was fascinated with kinky stuff like that. ‘
“Sssshhh” he was closing the distance between them with slow, calculated strides, stroking the handcuffs tenderly.
What trouble is this my God?
She opened her mouth to scream and the last thing she remembered was a heavy fist crashing into the side of her head.
When Nasir showed up at Shola’s house that morning because she hadn’t picked any of his calls or replied his, he had thought it was a good idea. He figured he would play the part of being annoyed at her for ignoring him and she would give him “apology” sex. And that was just how he had planned to start his day.
He parked outside and made to knock on the side gate but it was unlocked and swung open slightly on impact.
That useless gatekeeper he cussed in his head, stepping in through the gate and heading straight for the main house. Finding the front door unlocked he made his way into the house. With every step he took up the stairs, the bulge in the front of his trousers seemed to grow, throbbing impatiently against his leg in anticipation.
“Shola?” he knocked on the door to her bedroom twice before slowly pushing it open.
Shola was sitting up in bed, completely naked with her hands held up loosely over her head by a glint of silver at the wrists. But there was no head, just the stump of a neck. It took him a second to realize that the shaggy mass of hair between her widely parted legs was actually her head, face down in her vagina.
He didn’t realize he was the one screaming until he couldn’t breathe, so he ran. Stumbling down a few of the stairs, he seemed to regain his composure as soon as he was out the front door. He glanced into the gate house wondering where the gateman could possibly have disappeared to at such a time and he froze.
Okon was sitting on the floor with his head flopped unto his chest, propped up by the iron frame of his tiny bed. His abdomen had been slashed open and his innards had been neatly arranged on the floor beside him. This time, Nasir scream wasn’t at fast as the contents of his stomach and the doubled over beside the gate house, heaving.