Cursed Daughters by Oyinkan Braithwaite - 90
His lips were unfamiliar. They were thinner than Zubby’s and yet the kiss was moister than the ones she typically shared with her boyfriend. She tried not to recoil. This feeling that she was betraying Zubby wasn’t real. Her feelings for Zubby weren’t real. She was only in love with him because of M...
His lips were unfamiliar. They were thinner than Zubby’s and yet the kiss was moister than the ones she typically shared with her boyfriend. She tried not to recoil. This feeling that she was betraying Zubby wasn’t real. Her feelings for Zubby weren’t real. She was only in love with him because of Monife’s obsession, so from now on she was going to make her own choices. Starting here.
She tried to be present, choosing to focus on the sensation of being touched. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant. He knew what he was doing, and there was no point comparing him with Zubby. No point thinking about how Zubby liked to trace the contours of her neck and give her little butterfly kisses. No point thinking how Zubby liked to lace her fingers with his own whilst he kissed her. She wasn’t used to being grabbed by the back of her neck, or having a hand shoved into the space between her jeans and knickers. This was intense in a way she wasn’t accustomed to, but not unwelcome.
‘Is this okay?’ he asked?
‘Yea. It’s okay, Funsho.’
They were at his place. She had let him take her there despite her better judgement. But she couldn’t trust her better judgement. She couldn’t trust anything she thought and felt. This was perhaps the only way to take back her free will and the best way to dislodge Zubby from her heart and mind. The room they were in was cold; the air conditioner was on full blast. Funsho thought her shiver was due to her arousal; she didn’t bother to say she was just cold. He still lived with his parents, but he occupied a converted boys’ quarters, giving the illusion that he was independent. Still, it was a cosy space, as good a place as any to do what they were about to do; and the melodies of TeaMarrr’s ‘Chasing Amy’ played from his phone and soothed her.
She allowed him to peel off her clothes; watched as he removed his. Their skin was much closer in shade, so that when she was pressed against him, it looked as though they were blending together. He lifted her and laid her on the bed, and then he covered her breast with his mouth. The experience was somewhat like being outside her body. He was saying all the right things – she was beautiful, a goddess, a siren, he wanted her, he loved her. She closed her eyes as he climbed atop her. Zubby would be heartbroken.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Mmm.’
‘Tell me if, like … tell me what you need.’
She touched his cheek and smiled.
‘I need this.’
It was over faster than she had anticipated. He didn’t have the same control that Zubby had.
‘Was it good for you?’ he asked.
‘Yes. It was good for me.’
‘I love you,’ he told her. And she pulled away.