“Are you screaming at me Ismail?” Zainab asked, hands akimbo. “Shut
up” Ismail snarled back. She was mortified. She Stomped out of the room.
“Don’t you walk away from me woman” Ismail screamed. Zainab turned
around and a plastic mug of cold water crashed on Ismail’s face. The
edge of the plastic mug connected with the bridge of his nose sending
three hundred spasms of pain to the rest of his nose. The water
spattered on the floor around him and the front of his soaked clothes
clung to his body like a swim suit. By this single act of violence
Ismail got to know firsthand that Zainab wasn’t happy about how he had
spoken to her. With a smile on her face, we examined the extent of the
damage she had caused and she felt satisfied. This warmed the cockles of
her heart. With her pinkie and pointing fingers outstretched over her
other folded back fingers, she reached out and drew an imaginary tick in
the space between them and said, “ Clean up honey” Ismail was left
dumbfounded. He just stood there and watched Zainab as though she was an
alien who had just stepped out of her spaceship to spank him only to
board and take to flight. She made him feel like a cold rat in the
morning. She had made her point and walked away. He had learnt that
talking louder than her would never get him heard or understood. About
three minutes after he assumed she had left the floor, he cussed,
“Bitch” and started cleaning up the room. From the far corner of the
house he heard her ask, “Dude what did you just say?” Crestfallen that
he had been heard, he answered, “I said itch. My body itches. Must be
something in the water you just splashed at me” “Don’t fool with me
dude, that calls for an apology” She surfaced at the door way as he
finished cleaning the last pool of water on the floor. ‘Am sorry love,
he said. A little smile danced on her lips before spreading across her
face. She flashed her signature dimpled smile and giggled like a cute
Cheshire cat on heat. She lifted her dress up to her dome of glory and
watched Ismail’s wet pants bulge. “What’s that in your pants Chunchu?”
Ismail knew what it meant each time she called him Chunchu.
Ismail entered the bedroom a moment after she did, and shut the door
softly behind him. She guided him closer to the bed, then turned to
embrace him, running her hands up his chest and resting them on his
shoulders. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him,
their hips touching. Then, the kiss. Soft and gentle, tender and sweet,
sensual and arousing. Perfect. Hungry for contact, he rubbed himself
against her as the kiss increased in intensity.
Zainab could feel
his arousal through his dark slacks, the sensation of his movement
adding to her desire. The kiss became soft again as she felt his hands
slide to her hips, resting there briefly before wandering slowly up her
back to her shoulders. His lips left her mouth and found their way to
her neck, kissing and nibbling as he reached around to the zipper on her
dress. He slowly dragged the zipper down, his fingertips tickling and
tantalizing as he went. With a simple movement he slipped the material
off her shoulders and allowed the dress to fall to the floor.
Then the door burst open…”Mommy am hungry” Zainab and Ismail both turned
around made eye contact with baby Amaal. Seeing her momma naked with
her clothes pooled around her, baby Amaal started to cry…
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