Terms And Conditions Apply

I remembered the first time she talked. It does not mean she never talked when we first met. My wife was that way she spoke in monotones. Always quiet I thought until we did it. It was strange because she laid on the bed like a dead wood. I know woods do not have life. But what else can I use in describing her gesture? An ice queen is not right because she was not cold. Literally she was warm and unmoving. I gave her a head job and I could swear that I almost heard her shrieked out in excitement but it was just for a moment. She held me tightly while I gently slid into her. She was wet and warm yet unmoving.

I got off her and laid beside her. She said nothing and slept off minutes later. I sighed. And after that day, I couldn’t bring myself to touch her at least until after the marriage.

There was this time we were on the verge of doing it, then she had a change of mind. She never said so, she sat still as if she saw a ghost or something. I asked her what it was she shook her head and said nothing. After our marriage everything changed, she still hardly said a word yet she was different. She blossomed each time I teased her. I refused to touch her in bed and we slept and faced opposite directions with about 12cm distance between us. It was like a ritual, we never let our bodies touch.

One night, while we settled down to our pretentious routine of being busy with stuffs and all something unexpected happened.

‘James, I like sex a lot.’ She said.

I was stunned into silence. I used to be the talkative in the relationship but suddenly I couldn’t say a thing.

She continued.

‘In truth, I love it and you can die because of having excessive sex with me.’

‘What?’ I gasped.

‘How deep is your love for sex? Can we seek medical help?’ I asked.

She continued as if I had said nothing.

‘So here are my terms and conditions to make sure you do not die and to restrain myself from having excessive sex:

You shall not speak of what happens in bed when we are out of the bed.

Obey my every directive when we are in bed.

Stop touching me when I ask you to stop.

Always touch me without hesitation when I demand for it.’

I nodded.

‘Sex is three times in a week and in rare circumstances four times in a week.’ She said.

‘You must always pay me for sex. It could be exceptional compliments accompanied with a gift or it could be cash and the amount shall be specified by me.’

I had the urge to call off the marriage or take an oath of celibacy in the marriage. I had survived for one year without sex and I was still alive. Marriage was not all about sex I chided myself.

My wife had never troubled me and she had never asked for anything. She even contributed towards the wedding and bought a sizable amount of the furniture. At least indirectly as her people bought us kitchen utensils.

‘James.’

I jolted from my reverie and looked up she expected an answer, apparently she must have asked a question.

‘What did you say?’ I asked.

‘Do you agree with the terms? You are hesitating by all means take your time but I need an answer tonight.’ With that she resumed reading the book she so jealously guarded.

I peeped at it, it read “Kama sutra” I sighed.

Why did she want money for sex? When she had money and, I paid her bride price according to the dictates of the Akwa Ibom custom and tradition. I thought to myself. I always knew she was strange but, she was stranger than two strange bedfellows. And what was with the rules? I glanced at her and at once had an erection.

‘It is fine by me.’ I swallowed.

She dropped the book at once and pounced on me. I was shocked at her behaviour. So this calm, cool and collected woman could be this wild. She was all over me, kissing me, sucking me and even riding me like a stallion. She ruptured into a billion pieces and I knew this because she screamed, she wouldn’t stop screaming. I tried shushing her because of the neighbours but she was unperturbed.

After what felt like 1 hour of screaming, she collapsed on her side of the bed and slept.

I gazed at her for what looked like eternity and fell asleep.

In the morning, she was herself again and she said nothing about last night. I played along and secretly looked forward to our next episode. This time I shall be more prepared. I shall be in control and I shall have her properly with tenderness, love and care. But it never happened.

 

Then there was one night, she started, she touched me ever so lightly and I knew we would do it. I looked at her and she smiled at me. It was an animated smile. It brought out the animalistic side of her, I touched her garden and she moaned out loudly.

She allowed me to play with her and teased me too. She danced around the room and strip teased me with her bra and a narrow piece of satin fabric which passed between her buttocks and attached to a bead band around her hips. I think it is called a G-string. She had pointed breasts, the type that never needed bra to support it. It stood like a force man waiting for command from his superiors. That was when I realised that there was something different about our room, she had erected a pole and I only just noticed it. How long have the pole been mounted I wondered for a moment. She shook her shapely ass and rolled it sideways, up and down, up and down, then sideways and down in my mouth.

I hungrily sucked her she did not make a sound. She was just getting started. She grabbed my willie and rubbed it lightly. I was thrilled but suddenly she let go.

‘Where is my money?’ She asked.

I was shocked to my soul; could she be serious? We were in the far away land of foreplay and this was a spoiler for me.

erm, I would give you afterwards.’ I said.

‘Money now, by the bedside table, else nothing for you.’

‘Not now Jules.’ I said. ‘Pleeeeeeeease, right now I am so hot for you.’

‘Terms and conditions apply’ She said.

‘How much?’ I asked wearily.

‘N50,000’ She said looking sideways.

‘What? I don’t have that volume of cash on me.’ I responded the incredulity in my voice could be heard.

‘Drop what you have and pay up later. I like seeing the money when we are doing it.’ She said with a smile which erased all form of rebelliousness in me.

‘I rushed to my wardrobe and grabbed the money I called “emergency cash.” It was N30,000.’

She counted it and placed it on the bedside table.

And she continued as if nothing happened.

She danced again this time she held the pole and twisted her waist then, she asked me to have her from behind while she bent forward still holding the pole, her legs were stretched and she wouldn’t let me remove her G-string.

‘Do it like that.’ She said excitedly.

She kept muttering as I pounded her so hard.

ya ye ye ha noooooo ewoooooo who send me? You wan kill me, give it, yes yesssss.’

I wondered what came over her, she always transformed into a lively, demanding and authoritative person when we were having sex.

Two nights later, I saw the money in my wardrobe, “the emergency cash.” She must have returned it when I was away or something.

My wife had those special shapes, the ones that God so generously gave Beyonce Knowles, Jennifer Lopez and her likes.

She was damn too gorgeous and her pretty face was like an icing on the cake.

I loved her so much, she was perfection. She never troubled my family members and she never quarrelled with me. She always sat and watched everything going on around her hardly mouthing a word. When my friends and colleagues complain about their wives nagging or fighting with them or their relatives or their wives being extravagant or being promiscuous or denying them of sex and all. I always boasted of how lucky I was to have a wife that never nagged or asked for things or was unfaithful. That’s how lucky I was. But in those moments, I refrained from confiding in them about our strange sexual relationship.

There was this night we were on the verge of having sex when I noticed that the lights in the room had changed to red. The room smelt funny and looked funny, it looked like a room of pain and not pleasure. I thought of asking her about the whips which she so dutifully hung on the walls in the room, what of the handcuffs? Thank God she had never suggested using them on me. She once told me during her routine muttering that she derived pleasure from staring at the whips, handcuffs and chains.

We had three children, twin girls and a boy. I was glad and they grew up well. She was a good mother, she dotted on them when the need arose and she scolded and disciplined them when it was necessary. She was still a quiet woman and only spoke when it was necessary. The children loved her that way and they also boasted to their friends that their mom was cool. I overheard them one evening at the balcony and I smiled.

Now we are old and we still live in peace with never a day’s quarrel behind our 30years as man and wife but when we are in the bedroom, it was a different world altogether. We never made love but had good sex. The N30,000 was a symbolic money always at the bedside table every three times in a week and for 30years the money worked its magic three times in a week. It was almost like a language for sex. I always placed it there or, she does if she wants to have sex. I made provisions for an emergency cash although it was not up to N30,000 which was my standard money for emergency but I did not mind. She was very good in bed and if what it took to have her 3 times in a week was N30,000 so be it. She still screamed out loud even in old age and she is still wild like a tigress on the bed. But we love each other and we are happy as all terms and conditions apply.



4 thoughts on “Terms And Conditions Apply” by Flora Martins (@Floramichaels)

  1. nice and romantic too!

  2. * I always knew she was strange but, she was stranger than two strange bedfellows.*

    Watch the way you use the comma when you write a compound sentence–the comma comes before the coordinating conjunction, not after.

    1. Thanks. I am glad you enjoyed reading it.

    2. @Namdi. Yes, she was indeed very strange. I will watch out on the use of comma.

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