🔞Untamed Desire - The Fourth Chapter

After Sex, never ask, "So what are we now?"

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If you missed the Third Chapter, please click here to read

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In the days that followed, I was caught in a web of expectations.

There was excitement and that familiar uncertainty in the back of my mind. I walked around my house half-focused, lost in a daydream, and often reaching for my phone wanting to text Kwame.

Thankfully, he didn't turn out to be the type to recline and poof into thin air after sex.

We continued to talk, spending long minutes on the phone, talking late into the night.

He was revealing even more things about himself day by day, and I couldn’t help but think he was making an effort to close the gap that separated us.

Yet, despite the fact that the new whiff of love was hanging loose in the air around me, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had botched it even before it had carried a life of its own.

Love? What silly love? Is there something wrong with you?

“Girl! We fucked!” I yelped into the phone when I finally got a chance to speak with Nedicta. “In the fucking car! Oh gosh, I’m such a terrible freaking ass.”

“Ehhh this woman! Already? How did that happen?”

I imagined her snuggling under comfort sheets and grabbing popcorn to take the stories in. She loved that a lot. Listening to my escapades. Or should I say sexcapades? Our conversations since she moved to England had taken on a new life.

They were colored in the different hues of diverse topics and our sex lives were a major palette on the fabric.

Wasn’t Kwame about the fourth guy I was telling her about in less than a year?

What has become of my once vibrant love life? Why did my thirties have to treat me so horribly?

It was becoming clear to me that a pattern was developing but I didn’t think I was ready to accept it yet.

Now, there was Kwame.

“Girl! I swear it was the fucking Tequila.”

Yes, go on, blame the poor Tequila.

“This babe, gist me! Tell me everything!” Nedicta squealed into my ears, unable to hide her brightening curiosity.

“Well, first of all, the guy is huge, okay? I’m talking big, black mamba-type huge!”

I remembered how it looked, how he had felt in my stroking palms, how it jerked powerfully in and out of my spitting cove. I buckled my knees and squeezed my legs at the thought. Oh, Kwame!

“Yep, yep. I remember. I fucked him twice. I don’t remember it was that great but yeah, the dick was big.” She said it so casually as if she was talking about grocery shopping.

“Ehhhh Nedicta! You and Kwame?” My eyes were bulging out of their sockets but I was scarcely surprised. When it came to men and the men she had under her belt, Nedicta didn’t surprise me anymore.

Now she amused me. Her sex life was entertaining and filled with twists and turns.

“Yeah chale. But that was a long time ago. Too long. There’s nothing there. He’s like a brother to me now, you know, we are just super cool.”

“Oh Lord this girl,” I said, laughing now and thinking about it all at once. It was the second time she was passing over an ex-fling to me like she was tossing a ball.

“Well, you’ve been lonely for too long, chale, and you’ve refused to go out and meet new people. I’m happy you guys are hitting it off though. Ah! But you’ve fucked him already? How did that happen? Give me the gist!”

I told her everything, painting the pictures in vivid details, bringing them back to life in my head, and feeling a rush of renewed hunger erupt in my thighs with effortless ease.

“Girl, I don’t know what it is but I’m so horny all the time! I swear that night it was the Tequila, but I actually wanted to have sex so badly. Unfortunately, now I regret it. I feel like I should have slowed down and not been so forward,” I said, as I tasted the bitterness of shame in my mouth.

“Chale, it's okay. You haven’t had someone in a while that’s why. Plus to be honest, I believe you’re still getting over Liam. It’s not easy, sometimes the body wants what it wants.”

Liam.

Oh, how I hated the sound of his name.

It reminded me of too many things. It opened up fresh scars that were taking too long to heal. It had taken a year but I had finally stopped checking his Instagram to see what his life was like. And I had stopped hoping he’d rethink his decision about breaking up what I once believed was true love.

A whole year and four months of my life, gone, washed up in the archives of history and never to be remembered.

“You think so?” I asked, needing assurance, wanting something, anything to smooth out the lines of this regret that was beginning to crawl on my body.

“Yeah, chale. Right now you’re going through a process. You’re fucking Liam out of your system.” She laughed at herself. It was too corny a joke but I laughed too.

“No, but seriously,” she continued, “You should take it easy on yourself. You haven’t processed the breakup and even though you’ve started working intentionally on your healing journey, there are some things that are simpler. I’m sure you felt very good while you were fucking Kwame, no?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Then that was the purpose of that. Of course, there is a lesson there for you that will pop up in the future and you’ll have to deal with that when you get there. But for now chale, abeg, don’t regret something that served you pleasure in the moment. Instead, look at the regret you are feeling or the shame or whatever guilty feelings you have about it. Definitely, if you’re feeling that way after the fact, then your body is trying to tell you something. The body communicates through your feelings, good or bad. So if you’re feeling bad about it, don’t let the bad feelings consume you. That’s not what it’s there for. If not, you'll miss the lesson.”

“Hmm. You’re right. I see that. It makes a lot of sense.”

“Exactly. So don’t get consumed by the bad feeling. Feel it, then ask it what it is actually trying to point you towards. Perhaps there is an agreement you have with yourself about sex and your interactions with men. Maybe you’ve gone against your own moral codes of conduct or belief system and that’s what is pricking you inside. That’s the thing to check and correct.”

I breathed in a gulp of air and let out a deep sigh.

She was right. It was time to face myself and whatever was eating the sweetness out of my soul. Pleasure was one thing, but to what end? And why?

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