OVER THE RED LINE TWO;THE MEETING:PART 2
The next morning, from her office, she sent me a WhatsApp message.
“Hi Uche, my feeling for you is not in doubt,” she wrote, “but for the sake of my marriage, I wished our meeting had ended in disappointment, with no excitement. But with you my Adonis you lived up to your name and awaken one of the most exciting moments of my life.”
“Before we met, we were like two chemical substances far apart, and our meeting paved the way for us to mix, creating a reaction that has transformed my life. You are a passionate force that is pulling me like a magnetic field that I cannot resist. Even now, I desire you.”
I read her message severally with mix feelings, no thought of being caught in mind, as my heart would not let go; yet, for our love, I will risk it all. She had become my oxygen, the air that I breathe. My insomnia comes from the worries of how I would survive if I am unable to make her mine. As I pondered this, I heard a knock and behold it was my Aphrodite; as she walked towards me, I could not help but notice, even with teary eyes, her beautiful glow was not lost.
We hugged. Tears flowed down her cheeks.
“What is wrong,” I asked.
“Just hold me tight and kiss me.”
We went mute, and as silence prevailed the urge and passion took charge of us. Every touch broke her free, she began to relax, the rhythm of her breath changed from weeping to ecstasy as I infuse myself deeper into her soul. Our intercourse was not only passionate but electrifying. Keeping her eyes closed permanently, she moaned, moving in rhythm, jerking like with a convulsion – the deep sense of pleasure.
Now stable and able to talk, she expressed her concerns about her husband, noting from the way he had sounded in their telephone conversation, it seemed that he suspected something was wrong. She feared that if he could notice from afar, what then could happen whenever he returned on his regular visit.
She told me that she was gradually losing interest in her marriage and getting emotionally detached from her husband.
This scared her.
This creepy feeling was, in fact, anticipated. It feels easy thinking about dealing with it, but difficult to handle the experience. What do I do? To discourage her from playing into the hands of her fears by terminating what we have.
I told her we never planned to put ourselves in this unpleasant situation, and that I did not have the perfect words to alleviate her fears, but I assured her we are in the boat together, till the end; however turbulent the current becomes, whether it capsizes or remains afloat.
“I am only sure of one thing,” I said, “in all of this, I will get married to you, and spend the rest of my life waking up with your face as the first thing I see.”
“You are delusional! How on earth do I think that is possible?”
I told her that what she called, delusion, had been thoroughly thought through, and I was determined to make it come true, but I needed her support because life without her was unthinkable.
“Life without you will be excruciatingly painful too. Uche, I wish it were that simple,” she said.
But, she promised to think about it.
With two weeks left till I resume work, desperate for feedback, yet I trod with caution not to pressure her. We communicated mostly via WhatsApp and phone calls when the need arose. Already, three days had passed since the last time we met because of her hectic work schedule, and we had concluded to make time to meet on Friday morning. My hope of confirming if I had her consent in respect of my plans was dashed when she messaged to inform me on Friday morning that her husband had returned late on Thursday night and indicated she could only visit Saturday while taking advantage of the church activities scheduled for the same day.
I felt relieved when she eventually walked in. She was calm but expressed unease with her husband’s response, especially after he attempted to get intimate with her, and she declined under the guise of fatigue from work.
“I succeeded in debunking his thoughts, but it is just a matter of time before what we have erupts and becomes revealed by the brutal truth of time. Nothing stays hidden forever, not with our passion that is all over the place untamed,” she said.
Then, she wondered how she was to cope when I was gone.
“Uche, I agree,” she said. “Please tell me what we need to do to be together for the rest of our lives.”
Excited that the long-awaited question had finally come, I explained my master plan in detail to her. I would facilitate new employment for her where I resided, that could pay between three to four times what she earned presently. Her role was to convince her husband that she needed a more challenging job, that she was bored because of his new job, which had made being with her not stable. She was to convince him that the new position would reduce his frequency of travels to her and that the money made from the new job could boost her savings rapidly towards funding her existing business with the intent to resign and return to focus on growing her business. All these, while stating her hopes her husband would have concluded his consulting job at this time and be able to return to be with her.
If the plan went through, we would have the opportunity and the time to make the final arrangement to get married, as that was my primary goal.
Each passing day, it became evident how passion and the determination of our hearts to be together were taking us deeper into our quest to achieve what society would perceive as abominable if the lid was removed from what we concealed.
Her husband’s consent came seamlessly without a moment of hesitation. There was nothing strange about it because he had always been supportive of her course, but still, it was easier than she had anticipated. When she messaged me, I could feel her excitement.
“He would be leaving for his work station in two days, and I am eager to see you,” she wrote.
She came looking ravishing, slim, but well-endowed where it mattered, her curves revealing and her sensuality enhanced. Such as I saw before me, is better experienced, for words would not do justice to this goddess. If she had come to seduce me, then she was doing a great job. She drove me to insanity, and at that moment, I recalled in one of our early conversations when she said that she could drive my sexual urge to the heavens if she wanted. Could this be it?
We started kissing, I was not in haste this time, I used every skill at my disposal to steer and accelerate her as I wanted. She seduced me, but I was in control. Her breathing changed with each touch, enveloped in the dark I reached for her succulent melons, tickling her nipples she jerked and held tightly to me, while my tongue was all over her, she went wild as that brought the beast-like passion she always referred to. I migrated to between her thighs and intensified the pleasure.
“You are killing me with ecstasy,” she muttered. I increased my thrust, and she began to moan, her nails scratching my back, as she squirted with an intense orgasm until we finally flopped back in exhaustion. We spent the night at mine because it was too late for her to return home. We had sex severally before dawn; during intercourse, she is a different person, and I couldn’t help but appreciate the power of passion unleashed to exert such intensity that her personality changes, such energy can only be compared to someone on drugs, obsessed or deranged.