Monday, 25 April 2016

Cry Not-Says Love

“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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