Akuoma’s bare breasts jiggled as she hurried down the sloppy pathway that led to Agene river. Her empty clay pot was balanced on her head. Her short Kente wrapper molded around her wide hips and swung from side by side as she walked. The hems of her wrapper brushed against the shrubs that lined the path way. Her hair fell in long braids with cowries attached to their tips. Her flat ebony belly was marked with Uli paintings.

Everywhere was silent. Except the gentle tapping of her feet against the rocky grounds and the incessant hooting on the birds flying over the line of trees that stretched far beyond the hills. The river path was always lonely around this time. The golden rays of the sun was fading into the dark clouds. No one in the entire Ahaba village went to the stream at dusk. No wonder, her mother had insisted she stayed home. Her frequent nightly river visits had become a major concern for her mother. But Akuoma had planned it well. She had made sure the water pots were all emptied and she knew her mother would need water to cook her father’s meal.

In a polygamous home of six wives, every wife struggled to be the queen of father’s heart. And tonight was her mother’s turn to cook. Akuoma knew her mother would risk anything to impress father.

So, when mother bellowed her name from backyard. Akuoma laid still on her mat, pretending to be asleep. But when her mother crashed into the hut, her right hand slammed across Akuoma’s back. Akuoma jumped awake.

“You this child! Why are my water pots empty? Have you not fetched today?”

“No, nne m.” Akuoma murmured. Her hand rubbed against her left eye in a perfect act of drowsiness.

“Ngwa… Hurry to the stream before sun down. Fetch me a pot of water. I have to prepare meal for nna gi… Ngwa… Osiso. Hurry!” Nne shouted as she walked away.

Akuoma rose, fighting to bury the smile rising to her face. She quickly picked her raffia rimmed mirror and checked her face. She picked an Uli dye on the bamboo table and painted her lips. Her ebony skin glowed. Her small pointed nose stood out. She remembered how Ifenna had pressed a kiss on the tip of her nose. How he had sang of her beauty as he ran his hand over her flat stomach and trailed it to her breast. He squeezed. Her legs wobbled. Desire rushed to the base of her legs. He laid her on the mat of grass by the river bank and bent over her. His lips took her right pointy nipple in the warmth of his mouth. He suckled. The bushes beside Agene river began to swing in her eyes. And when his fingers crawled down to the apex of her legs and nestled, her moans leapt above the creeping of the crickets. He loosened her wrapper and knelt over her groins. His hot breath fanned the mat of black hair at the base of her thighs.

“Please…” she whispered. She didn’t even know what she was begging for but whatever it was she wanted it. No, needed it. His fingers brushed the black mat of hair covering her womanhood and parted the lips of her mound to reveal her pinkish folds.

“Unnngh…” he groaned. He sounded almost in pain. Alarm rose to her head. She squeezed legs together and sat up.

“What’s wrong, Ife?” she asked. Worry lurked in her voice. Her eyes roamed his handsome face.

“Nothing…” he said. His eyes held her firm in his spell as he pushed her gently against the shrubs. He parted her legs again. His chest rose and fell. His eyes feasted upon her body.

“You are perfect, Aku m!” he whispered, diving low, his lips locked with her slippery warmth.

Her cries rose in the air. She lost it. Tears clogged to the corners of her eyes. With every stroke of his tongue, she ascended. Reached for something higher. Something urgent. Something swirling. His hands snaked up to her breasts. Fondling the perky peaks as he suckled her pink nectar.

She panted. The air was too hot to breath. She held his head to her groins.

He suckled deeper. His tongue danced between her legs; swirling, stroking, soothing, scorching. It was a battle of ice and fire.

“Ife… Ifeee! She chanted. Her body was almost there. She can feel it. Her legs began to thrash. Her hips jerked up. As though on cue, his tongue danced faster. Stroking and swirling. Her world was rolling in circles. Her head arched to the back. His hands squeezed her breasts, teasing the nipples as his tongue drove into her warmth. Deeper and deeper.

She jerked. Her back arched in frenzy, rounded hips rising like an offering in the hands of a priest. A million lights burst inside her. A cry rose from the depths of her soul. She slumped upon the grass. Panting. Her chest slamming in her ears. Sweat dripped from her face. Her legs trembled.

Ifenna crawled up to her face. A smile danced on his face. She wanted to asked where he learnt that but she could not get words past her throats. Her attentive gaze followed him through veiled lids. She watched him pull the straps of his Kente knickers. It fell to his feet. Something stood erect on his groins. Long, big and slightly upturned. She watched him stroke the ebony rod. His eyes fluttered.

Watching him perform this game of intimacy, ignited her flames. She wanted to touch him. To feel him. She raised a hand to him. Her hand covered his swollen shaft. He jerked. His eyes flew open.

“Easy stallion!” she whispered. Sitting up, she held it with her two hands. Stroking and caressing. His breath came in pants. His chest rose and fell beneath his face, a mask of desire. She didn’t know what she was doing but she felt the power she wielded. It gave her strength. Her mouth reached towards his pulsating shaft. Her breath fanned the ebony rod. She wanted to do more but she didn’t know how. She was drowning. It was pulling her to him. Her lips drew closer and closer. Her hands ran up his legs to grab the hard planes of his buttocks. She pressed her lips against him. Her eyes rose to his. Her eyes questioned. He nodded. His gaze, desperate. His legs trembled. She opened her mouth and her tongue licked the tip of his shaft. He froze.

She felt a tremor. His groans sang in her ears. Her hands began bolder, stroking the length of his shaft. Her tongue licked and suckled. She reached for his balls dangling between his thighs, cradling it like a delicate ball.

Akuoma danced to the primal song of desire. Her mouth went in and out. Stroking, licking, squeezing, faster, faster… Higher and higher… She didn’t stop till Ifenna’s screams bellowed in the air and his seed splattered across her face. Hot milky juice dripped from her forehead down to the tip of her nose.

“Akuoma, are you still here? Go fetch some water!” mother shouted from the door of the hut.

Akuoma jerked. The mirror slipped from her hand and scattered on the floor.

“Ifenna, my betrothed!” she muttered. A smile danced across her face. He would be waiting for her at the base of river as usual. The thought sent warmth gliding between her thighs. Jumping across the littered particles of broken mirror, she reached for a big water pot by the bed, she walked out of the hut. Following the bushes and hills of the village, she trailed her way down the sloppy pathway that led to Agene river.

Her betrothed awaits.




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