By Jumie..
What am I doing here? I ask myself for the umpteenth time. Here I am sitting behind the wheels of my luxurious car. Good clothes on my back, perfectly manicured nails and a diamond rock on my left hand. Yes I am married and happily too. So what am I doing here at the car park of the Royal Hotel? My heart is pounding and it’s not with fear or excitement but with apprehension and dread. No one is forcing me to be here and I really shouldn’t be but am here all the same. Alfred is waiting to see me in his hotel room and I am going to see him. I made up my mind yesterday that I would see him today. I even dressed carefully for this visit. Something tells me to call him and tell him that something came up and we should cancel this rendezvous, I pick up my phone to text him on the cancellation, but his last message indicting his room number burns into my head and I find myself repeating ‘room 9402’ ‘room 9402’ over and over again in my mind like a woman possessed. Just a kiss and I’ll restrain myself I promise, I think to myself. I give a short laugh, who am I kidding I want this man and I am going to be powerless to stop whatever is going to happen.
I feel myself breaking into a cold sweat even though it is cool in the car. I must get this over and done with.
I get out of the car and decide not to make eye contact with anyone, not even the concierge. As I get to the lift a small voice says ‘Patricia its not too late to go back you don’t need to be here’ But the desire raging within me is much louder than this small voice and I ignore as I press the button to summon the lift as soon as I enter I know that there is no going back.
Room 9402, room 9402, room 9402 I say over and over again. Soon enough I am in front of the door. I strain my ear to listen for sounds and movement but I can only hear the faint sounds of the television.
I take in a sharp breath and raise my hand to knock on the door. Soon enough I am face to face with Alfred, and I give him a shy smile as he ushers me in. Oh dear! my heart is pounding so loudly and I restrain myself from taking in loud breath. The room is beautiful with a magnificent view over looking the lagoon. I head straight for the balcony and look out down, lots of cars out there I mumble to myself and Alfred asks what? I turn to look at him and take him in, in one sweep from head to toe my eyes lingering a bit around his torso wondering. I respond with a shaky laugh ‘rush hour traffic.’
He gestures for me to sit and proceed to pick up the intercom asking me what I’d like to eat or drink. I honestly doubt that I can take anything so I politely decline. He begins by making small talk and my mind begins to wander. How will it begin, will he rip off my clothes, will he be gentle or slobbery? I wonder to myself, will I enjoy it, I hope the feeling will linger and would I experience an orgasm again, I wonder if he is still skillful? I take a hard look at him and imagine what lies underneath his shirt. Is that a hint of breasts am seeing or a pack of muscles? At forty-five, I really wonder if he is in top shape. I hope he doesn’t notice my wobbly bit as I am no prize either.
How is your husband? He asks’ what fresh hell is this? I frown in response I am not here for a Spanish inquisition. He’s alright! I shrug in response. I carefully tuck away the mental image of my husband. And cross my legs together, masking my uncertainty.
Are you sure you don’t want that drink he asks again. Well maybe a Baileys on ice I answer. As he goes to the mini cabinet to serve the drinks I take a quick survey of my environment again and the bed is unmistakably inviting, with its cool white sheets and soft fluffy pillows. The big TV screen is on CNN and the reports aren’t any different from what one should expect. Thanks I say collecting the drink from him and for a moment there was a brief contact of our fingers. I was somewhat disappointed as I expected to feel a twinge of excitement as our fingers connected. Am I imagining things, or is the lust I feel for him gently waning? Why doesn’t he make a move what’s all this small talk for? My hand is becoming clammy and I feel a tight knot growing in the pit of my stomach. I am going to lose my nerve here and make a bolt for the door if nothing happens soon. As I continue to sip my drink Alfred continues to look at me and fuss with the remote and his phone. Do I detect nervousness from him? No doubt I’m not the only wreckage in here.
He sits on the edge of the bed and says “you know why I asked you to meet me here today. For a moment I am lost, is he telling me or asking me?
Seeing the confusion on my face, he continues I asked you here because I can’t very well show up at your house knowing our history and I don’t know how your husband will react.
My Husband doesn’t know anything about you. Besides we are childhood friends and you have only just come back to the country after almost twenty years.
‘Childhood friends? Is that how you think of me? He asked with a sexy smile.
‘Come on Alfie! I sighed.
You know you’re the only one who calls me Alfie’ he said still smiling.
I uncross my legs and sit up. Well that’s cos I have always thought of you as nothing more than Alfie.
Do you know that I never stopped thinking about you he asks getting up to adjust the blinds or more like fiddling with it?
Really? I murmured. What is he saying I wondered, could he even remember what we had way back twenty years on?
So what happened to us he asked.
Well you travelled out to Europe in the search for greener pastures while I struck it out here. I said with a little bit of resentment. But I never stopped loving you I added silently.
I wished I had taken you with me he said sadly.
Perhaps we won’t even still be friends anymore. I said.
Twenty years and on my very first day back on this soil, I run into you.
Small world I sigh. I almost begin to feel normal again. The rushing in my ears has stopped and I am more relaxed or perhaps the Baileys is running through me. He stands in front of me and gently pulls me up. It really is so good to see you again in the flesh. And then he hugs me.
As we hug I remember the faint smell of old spice which he always wore. Some things never change. We cling to each other and soon enough he is kissing my cheeks and the hug tightens. My heart is pounding again and I respond to his touch and as gentle as it begins it takes a new turn and suddenly erupts into this fierce and passionate embrace. Our lips meet and we kiss hard and fast both taking and giving, like a wanderer starved for water. We break off for air, both panting but still locked in that tight embrace. As we are still locked in the same embrace he rests his forehead against mine, eyes closed and he whispers my name over and over again.
My heart is racing and all I can think about is how much I want to be kissed again by him. And so I search for his lips again and this time the kiss is slow and perfect. I can feel him throbbing against me and I equally feel hot. I feel the swelling between my legs as I grind and rub against him. As we break off again he holds me away from him and looks at me straight in the eyes and asks ‘is this really what you want?
His question leads me back twenty five years earlier when he first asked me the very same question.
It was my fifth day in college and like any rookie I was just going with the flow. I was timid and very shy and open to all the possibilities ahead. It was the orientation week for the newcomers or freshers like they were called back in the days. It was the era of BoysIIMen, Tupac, Sisters with Voices and also the era of braids and clogs. It was a time when fashion exploded and imploded. Kangoo caps, oversized shirts, Hip Hop and Rhythm and blues. Everything was happening so fast and it was hard to keep up.
I first felt Alfred before I saw him. I suddenly began to feel a little light headed and soon enough my eyes clashed with this handsome man who was staring at me. I looked away hesitantly.
That moment is and was a moment that has haunted me all my days.
We were in the same faculty and had to sign up for some courses. We were standing on a queue waiting to register for some course which I hardly remember now and some guys were taking shots at the girls. Most of the girls on the queues were in pairs and had made friends with each other or so I thought and the queues were divided into two with guys on one lane and girls on the other. Soon enough a sophomore student came in to attend to us. In the process of crowding to listen to his instructions a girl bumped into me and the contents of my bags and notes fell. As I bent to retrieve my books I noticed a pair of trainers in front of one of my textbooks and a hand reached out to help me pick them up. As I turn to look at him, my heart literarily skipped a beat and suddenly time stood still. It was the guy who had been staring at me. I think that that was my first experience of being head over heels. I suddenly felt as if we were the only two people in the world, everything and everyone ceased to exist and all I could take in were those pair of eyes looking into mine, seeing my inner most vulnerability. Then he said ‘is this what you want?’ I hurriedly collect my thoughts together and murmured my thanks. Now if I were a white girl it would be safe to say that my face was on fire. I couldn’t understand what had happened to me but one thing was certain I needed to see him again. In the process of handing my book to me our fingers brushed and there was this jolt of electricity that virtually ran through me.
As he headed back to his queue, I continued to look at him mystified by what had taken place and timid as I was I couldn’t help myself that day as I kept on staring at him like someone addicted to love.
That moment has stayed with me and I sometimes imagine that one day at the end of my days it will be one of the moments that I will always remember.
Just as I was wondering what his name was, the sophomore student started to call out names and soon enough his was called out. I liked his name immediately and I repeated it over and over again in my head.
Over the next two years we had little or no contact, but I never stopped wondering about him. I had more than my fair share of suitors but I never accepted to date anyone I was hooked on Alfie. Any sighting of him usually made my day and I would be on cloud nine. We had a few shared courses but never in close proximity. I guess fate had other plans because just as I was getting frustrated at my timidity of not being able to step up to Alfred, we were suddenly paired up for a group assignment. I was secretly thrilled and a little intimidated by the girls in the group and I naturally saw them as rivals contending for his attention and affection. It was really hard being so near him and yet so far away. I decided to give the assignment my best shot and soon enough we came out tops. He was cordial and polite at the end of it and since he did not indicate any intention of taking our brief friendship any further, I retreated to my shell and tried to focus on other things peculiar to me as at that time.
Then one day, completely out of the blues he came up to me and asked me out on a date. I was stupefied with joy. It was an amazing night and I was so happy. Nothing out of the extraordinary happened between us and I was totally psyched at a chance of being with him at last.
Soon after that he asked me, to be his girlfriend and I accepted without any hesitation. Our first kiss was explosive it was also unexpected. I was more alive than I have ever been. Alfred made me come alive and truth be told I have never experienced that kind of passion with any man. But things didn’t escalate or grow it was as though we became stuck, suddenly I was the chatty one and he the brooding silent type. The relationship suddenly became stagnant; the only thing alive was our passion for each other. I wanted him more and more everyday but he became even more mysterious and I didn’t know anything about him as he clamped up. I was frustrated it was as though I was the only one in the relationship and every time I was ready to walk away, he would take me to unimaginable heights with his lovemaking. I couldn’t understand how someone so passion driven could be so empty too. I couldn’t get him to open up to me and soon the relationship took a nosedive and I soon ended it. But my passion for him remained. For the first time in my life I was heartbroken and cried like my world had fallen apart completely.
I tried to mend my broken heart and move on, but there was no one like him, who could move me like he did. I was an empty shell without him and I remember a friend once asked me after a couple of years if I still loved him and I said yes without hesitating.
But fate was not done with us yet and on the very day we were to physically leave college we met at the school entrance and promised to keep in touch.
I did keep in touch somehow, but telepathically I must say. There was really no other way as I didn’t know where he was but he was always in my heart even if there was someone physically with me.
Years later during the advent of mobile phones, we met again by chance on the busy streets of the city and exchanged numbers I was excited about him again and we rekindled our friendship and in the process he confessed as to not knowing what to do with me and with our love back then in college. We got to know each other better while communicating via phone and text messages. We became close (friends) I and was not ready for that emotional heartbreak again and so I thought that we had more than enough time to grow as friends before taking it up to the next level. But fate again wasn’t without its sense of humour and before I knew it he had won a Visa lottery to the United States of America.
Our last night together was so memorable and yet again I gave him my body and my heart. Our love making was unhurried it was sure and it was simple. The next morning I decided to let him go. I needed the closure and I decided to leave it up to fate and chance. But there was no single day that I didn’t think of Alfred. And I also knew that I couldn’t love any other man like I loved him.
Alfred has and will always be my soul mate. And now he is here again in my arms twenty years later. I have never stopped loving him and I always will. But life has happened in over the course of twenty years and I do not feel guilty about being in his arms it feels amazing and as though I have returned from a long sojourn. His body feels so right and I cannot but remember the heights of pleasure experienced with him.
Coming back to the present I whisper ‘yes, yes this is what I want, and we kiss again. This time, with more surety and purpose.
As Alfred continues to kiss me he gently tugs at the zip at the back of my dress and I shrug out of it. As I unbutton his shirt and kiss his ear, he lets out a gasp and I smile remembering, like it was yesterday his sensitive areas. I am in my under wear and I look towards the lights, out of habit I say can you turn off the light I asked. Why? He asks with a bemused look on his face. I have changed’ I responded.
I want to see all of you he says and I don’t care if you have changed, we both have. Without warning he grasps at my hair and pulls my head back exposing my neck and slowly begins to leave a trail of kisses down from my chin to my collar bone just the way I have always liked to be kissed. It is obvious Alfred has not forgotten our way of making love. He has a man’s man body and I have also had my toil of womanhood on mine. He gently coaxes me to the bed and we both fall in it, him on top of me and I fumble for his belt and trouser. Soon enough we are writhing in passion and we are a tangled mass of hands, limbs and tongues and as soon as he is ready for me I give in completely and wholeheartedly. Alfred is able to take me to heights long forgotten and I gasp with pleasure and call out his name at the peak of my desire.
We are both panting as we come back to earth and Alfred is stroking my stomach. I smile at him, and gently kiss him again. That was wonderful’ I wish we could go on forever like this. I murmured childishly.
He smiles enigmatically.
TO BE CONTINUED…..
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.