Away From Home

Stella grabbed Salope’s hand and placed her bosom right on his chest hoping he would connect with her warm skin. All day, the sun had been unforgiving, though the night had come, her skin still smelt fresh from the afternoon. Stella was beautiful, from her large brown eyes, to her dark ivory baked complexion. She was breathtaking, and Salope knew he had hit gold or a rather a new element by having her all to himself.

“So what I’m going to do after you’re gone?” Stella asked.

“Cry me a river, maybe,” Salope sarcastically replied.

“Funny man, why do you have to go away?”

“I have to, I promised him, you know, he depends on me.”

“But I depend on you, I need you to survive.”

“Don’t be childish Stella, I must do this, I’ll come back and we’ll crush that blue blue.” Salope was not sure if his words were true because he knew this journey he was about to embark had no return receipt.

Stella dragged herself from his comfort and went to the window to hide her grief. Somehow she knew too. “He would never come back,” She thought to herself.

As always, Salope knew when Stella was troubled, so he tried to crush her grief with comfort.

“I’ll be back, I promise,” he lied. He made sure his eyes did not blink for fear that Stella would see through his uncertainty.

“You know I hate promises.”

“I know bae, but I’ll make sure I do everything to keep mine.”

Stella knew Salope meant what he said. “He would do everything to see me again.”

Salope brought her close and placed his mouth on her warm tender lips. Her breath suddenly became short when her lips tasted her lover’s kiss. Sweet caramel was what her lips tasted like. With intimacy increasing, she wanted to tear away Salope’s silk-like vest and make love to him before his departure. Salope again knew her desires, so he picked her up and took her to their bed.

He kissed her on her neck, and caressed her breasts with his large hands. Stella cried for more, so her lover delivered. Her thighs shook as he placed his manhood deeply into her garden petal. Crush, crush. She moaned, as she was aroused with pleasure and pain. He was big, so he made sure he guided his manhood with ease. Her nipples turned rock hard as the process of love making went deep into the night. He stopped, and increased her pleasure by putting his lips down into her clit. Abysmal sigh rang, as he twirled and twirled his lips south and east. She wanted this act to last forever; he was her warrior whom she did not want returning to war. More twirl then some screams. As he once again guided his manhood into her, his hips movement was in every sense animalistic; a beast hungry for love.

She was reaching the climatic end, but Salope wanted more so he removed his manhood and played with her nipples. Like a disc jockey, he tuned her already hardened nipples as if searching for the frequency of ecstasy. Biting her tits with ease, his right hands rummaged through her bare ass. The windows were wide open, and air flew in to calm the heat. The creatures of the night watched and shouted “Murder” as they watched the two lovers break away into the land of milk and flesh.

“Oh….Salope stay right now, don’t move,” Stella screamed

“I am right here with you babe, always.” Salope replied while wiping the formed sweat on his forehead.

Stella’s balloon busted and a flood of cries and thick hormones flowed down out. With Stella’s thirst quenched, Salope went back into the land of ecstasy to get his own climatic end.

For a few minutes, no one talked except the gossiping night birds. The room was thick and full with the after-air of sex.

“So you’ll come back to me, right?” she whispered.

“I will babe, this is not the end for you and me.”

Stella was satisfied and momentarily fell into a deep sleep. Salope on the other hand could not sleep, all he could think about was his impending journey. With his troubled mind still searching for quiet, he got out of bed and walked directly to the window. He watched and listened to the mellow talks flowing from the ominous quiescence of the night.

“I must find a way back here,” he thought. “Somehow”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

The gun shot to my stomach was now taking its worrying toll on my body. As I dragged my mess of a body towards the tall like looking boulder, I imagined looking at myself from the opposite distance. I knew I looked pitiful. If Stella saw me like this, all soaked with blood and sweat, she would cry till the heavens opened up and the angels came down to comfort her.

Five hours ago, who would have thought that I would be laying here defenseless? Maybe the guy upstairs knew. He always knew. Stella believed so. My body’s temperature was raising high, so I held onto my body because I knew I was about to pass through an ordeal of a painful fever.

“Show yourself Mr. Detective,” I suddenly heard from afar.

What took me to come into this deafening violence that I was currently amassed in?

“No one that’s who”

My thoughts came back to reality, as I heard what sounded like the cocking of a tommy gun.

“I said show yourself, you piece of coal trash.” I could sense my incoming suitor was not up for any kind of negotiation, so I looked around and planned for my escape route.

“Two million, would he reject that kind of amount,” I asked myself.

His reply confirmed my suspicion that Mr. Cocky Tommy was in no mood for reconciliation.

“You should have listened to your boss, but no, no, your nosey face wanted to know everything.” He laughed and continued on his little speech. “Well I am going to kill you, blast your good for nothing looking face, and then I’m going to go to your house and have a little fun with Mrs. Detective.” He laughed some more, like a madman realizing that all along he was in fact the sane one among all the so called sane-people.

As I looked around for an idea to get away from this mess, I saw next to where I lay, a metallic base-ball bat.

“Coincidence or Luck?” who cared anyway, all I knew was that I was going to use this instrument to paint a very ghastly art on my dear Mr. Tommy.

He was near, I could smell him, and he smelt like sweat mixed with a very expensive cologne. He was a well feed brute, who answered to his master like dog to a bone. As he drew even nearer, I knew now was my chance to strike him down. So with my strength momentarily increased, I rose up and swung my weapon towards his large bald head.

“Wam. Wam. Wam”

These were the three sounds I heard after my courageous attempt to attack my attacker.

“Was he dead?” I hoped he was.

My vision blurred as I looked around hoping to find the remnants of Mr. Tommy’s brain scattered all over the ceramic floor. I was losing it, my stomach was pouring out blood. My eyes was suddenly covered with what I imagined was blood.

“Dripping blood……. on my face,” My hands went up to my head and I felt a huge gash.

Something told me to turn, and I was about to, when with lightning speed I heard another ‘Wam’.

Now, I finally realized I had been hit and all this while that I was looking for Mr. Tommy, he had been right at my back having a good old time with me. Like a rat to a scientist, he was taking his time, watching me till I had stupidly turned, and then he struck me right on my head.

“Why didn’t he shoot me instead?” was the last question my brain could come up with. I saw my dear friend wickedly smiling at me saying something I picked up bits by bits.

“I will ….. Woman,” He seemed to be telling me.

“You’re just fucking ugly,” I managed to mutter. After which I fell into a black void.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Salope entered the building, arms constrained, lips wrapped shut, he could not see clear because, his eyes had not seen much of day for a long while. For days after months, he had been captured and locked in room lacking any windows. During his stay there, the room had been dark and the air was not air; “artificial nerve gas”, Salope called it. His head was still hurting from the knock he had taken from that henchman. That well fed brut had hit him right on the middle of his head, striking cords directly to his brain wires.

It felt like days maybe some months, they locked him in that room. Some days when his captors wore mercy on their sleeves, they would feed him with pesh-pash-pat food, one even rats would proudly refuse. But he had to eat; it was eat or die like the others before you. Death was something he knew would come, but he wished it to come later, then, when his skin was wrinkled faded and crumpled up together.

They pushed him past the hallway, to which they came a stop upon reaching a gigantic door. As he came into the room, immediately the subtle strings from a violin played right into his ears. The scent in the room was clean, fresh and paid by those whose pockets never saw the dryness of old. His eyes caught in the moment of awe, came back to focus catching a defined figure of something, a woman it was; so beautiful that his eyes lost its tiredness and came back into clear reality. She stood up as she noticed his presence. She was tall with the statue of a well-formed woman, one that took proper care of her body from her rich black flowing hair to her polished black toe nails. Salope swallowed away his thirst for her. Patiently, she stood there quietly desiccating every part of her worn-out guest. “Like, she was sizing him up, to see if he would fit in those thighs of hers,” Salope thought. Even in this glamorously drenching times, Salope still had his hunger for women intact. If he was to measure his hunger, “his prison time” might have powered up his lunging for woman.

“Your smell sure is blinding,” the beautiful woman said, pointing her fingers to him.

“Those lips of yours needs a binding,” Salope said with a half grin.

Her eyes did not move neither did her fingers, all she did was twirl her lips and let out a quiet hiss. She then sat down on the too-damn-good comfortable sofa.

“Sit down Mr. Salope.”

“It sounds so smooth when you say it,” Salope replied.

“What?” the woman asked.

“The way those lips spill out my name, enigmatic isn’t it?”

“Please sit down,” she said, pointing at mahogany chair.

Salope took her offer “Nice place,” he said to her offering her a compliment.

“Thanks, it’s spectacular, isn’t it?” she said happily brimming.

“I can clearly see that.”

“My Pa passed it down to my brother and me,” she continued.

“Families are great, but speak clearly Miss, family heritage bores me,” Salope bluntly said.

She glanced at him, her eyes warm and her body calm without a twitch of stress. She stared long and hard at him, and after a passed moment she said with her lips kissing teeth.

“Direct I see, okay…the reason I brought you here is to tell you that I have killed your wife.”

 

 



10 thoughts on “Away From Home” by Uyiosa (@wordsfromuyi)

  1. dont seem to get ur story line although the flow is alright. nice try

    1. @wordsfromuyi, a good try but spice the story up as (@sarah suggests… check out my poem at http://www.naijastories.com/2014/04/i-am-an-african/ Thanks.

    2. Uyiosa (@wordsfromuyi)

      @sarah..yeah i need to work on the transitions. thanks for stopping by

  2. namdi (@namdi)

    It read well. Few slips -a word or two seem to be missing in some sentences. Still, I did not understand the story fully -why the switch in POV?

    1. Uyiosa (@wordsfromuyi)

      @namdi my idea was to get more into my protagonist humor. thanks for reading.

  3. Nalongo (@Nalongo)

    Is this going to be a serial?

  4. Nice work! The transitions wasn’t smooth and you left so many questions unanswered. Do brush up on your next installment

    1. Uyiosa (@wordsfromuyi)

      @kingobazy hey thanks for reading. will work out the rough edges

  5. well-thought out

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