No Jane, I won't come in you.
Exactly that was what he told me that night, that night when he pleaded to feel my warmth for he was dying of cold.
John, my course mate. We really do not have anything together save from borrowing books and the normal banters we throw over whatsapp. Dark skinned and tall, John. John the one who wrote several messages to me both on whatsapp and the ones he leaves in my materials he borrowed from me.
I told him, repeatedly over and over. I am not interested. I'll never be interested in dating my own course mate. For me I deem it a taboo that someone will see my nakedness and remain in the same class with me. We see everyday and we get naked at night. It disgust me if I must confess.
But John was tenacious. Even though we are studying accounting, John had always frequented the class with Shakespeare, which he frequently borrowed from his frequent visit to the University library. This is not time to talk about spec or class, but I've never looked at his direction. Not just him but all the boys.
They think I'm conservative but I come from a poor home and mama's word still rings in my ears. I'm the hope the family have. The hope of them having a graduate, someone learned, someone schooled. So whilst other are here to enjoy their life; I cannot forget, enjoyment of life commences after school. Like the saying goes. He who wears the shoe......
But that night. That evening I had hurried to John's house to borrow Acc 202 handout. He was wearing a blue three quarter, white singlet and an unbuttoned stripe white shirt.
"And to what do I owe this August visit?" He asked kneading his palm.
"Bia, coman gimme your ACC 202 abeg. Shebi you follow for people wey buy am"
"siddon first na" He offered me a stool before walking to his book lib for the handout. He had afterwards brought pure water and dished a plate full of rice for me.
He insist I'll eat it or he will not let me go with his handout. The offer could not be resisted, for I was hungry. But I must hide it also. I've been sipping garri for a while now.
Then he begged. He begged to have me, it was past six and the stupid rain from God knows where came cat and dog. He knelt, he cried. Yes, John cried. I'll never forget the sight. He talked about the pains he felt in his abdomen he said he found out that it's because he had not had good sex since he came to school, he has been rooting for me since our first grade. I looked away. "John I must go, I came for the handout if you want me to pay with my body for it, it is fine. I'll go without it."
"No, I'm not saying you should pay, the payment for it is eating the rice. And you've eaten it."
"Did you put anything in it?"
"Why should I? Did I know you were even coming?" He rushed to the pot and ate two spoonful. That cleared my doubt. But uncle was on his knees. He wanted something.
I felt for him. I pitied him. He suckled me so strong that I almost asked him if he sucked at all during infantry. Like a hungry child whose mother showed up from nowhere, John suckled me.
We got down. Me and him.
He ravaged my body, burning with satisfaction. I could see gratitude in his eyes as he ate and ate until he was full. I stopped him earlier though asking for his bullet proof and he told me he will not come in me.
That was what was on his lips, that he muttered as he rammed, fast, faster, slow, slowly. Fast and Slow, fast and furiously fierce and slow. His mouth barely left my rigid nipple.
Then, like he got a seizure. He shook, he stiffened, he groaned, he fell on me. Still muttering.... "I'll not cum in you I promise"
I asked him for his juice, but he squeezed the bed sheets and said he just squeezed it. He said he pulled away, he managed to, he showed me a wet spot on his sheets and said that was his semen. He kept his word he had told me in gratitude like a fulfilled child. In fact he slept between my ridges.
This John, this John says I'm a whore. This John says I'm a sex hawker that he is sure one of my numerous boyfriends had gotten me pregnant and I want to blame it on him. This John says he regrets knowing me. He even asked me what's so special about my body. The same he fed on hungrily.
This John smiles to some group of boys around our relaxation centre as he boast about how he has eaten me. Me the hard fish. He has eaten and cleaned his mouth. According to him, I carry myself as though I'm something, but I'm actually cheap. And my pot is stale, and my mounds have fallen, and my taste is sour.
©DEEP STORIES
Chines Zoe.
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