Zvakatangira pa Gochi Gochi Part 4: Novel (Storms of Vicissitudes)
I was frozen for a moment, not breathing just seated still like a tombstone, my mother’s sermons echoing loud in my conscience.
Giving my pearls to Tsunami was almost inevitable, a collateral damage to my quest for a brighter future. Though I liked him, I wasn’t ready to fall in love with him, finding love wasn’t a priority, that wasn’t the reason why I had crossed the border.
As Tsunami closed the door, I nervously took a step back as he approached me. With piercing eyes fixed on me, he slowly started to remove his shirt.
Huh! Now what?
A demonic Aphrodite fury I had never seen in him seemed to have possessed him. Solitarily confined and trapped in the sardonic gleam of his eyes, I could neither move nor think.
The confident diva in me quickly stepped out upon registering the smooth broad shoulders, and the dark shiny finely hair matting his lower abdomen. The glossy contoured muscles, “Mmmh Yummy”, she whispered!”
The refined sculpture of his torso that meandered from his broad shoulders into a narrow waist. Devastatingly appealing from the depth of his eyes to the tone of his radiant skin. His armour and posture perfectly complimented his symmetrical face. Tsunami exuded sexuality, intentionally or not.
The confident diva in me gazed in desire and lust, inwardly summoning and conjuring the Aphrodite fury in him, “Damn! Come big boy, bring it on!! Damn!”
The fragile Church girl in me, on the other hand, screamed in silent objection at the ferociousness of what was about to happen. “Keep thy Pearls girl, do not give them to the swine!” She screamed and begged inwardly on bended knees.
He noticed, “What’s wrong Tornado? ” he asked huskily.
I didn’t answer, I froze.
“Don’t tell me you’re opting for a formal sexual inaugural at this late point, please take off your vestments”. He demanded!
“What! He wants me to take off my clothes”. My heart skipped from one to sixty.
As he came towards me, I shrank back. He was panting, huffing, and puffing in total sexual rage.
His hands skilfully touching every part of my body, dangerously skilful like an alpha tiger preying on a vulnerable heifer. I tried to protest but my words were cut off by my strongest voice, Tornado with the Capital letter T,’ the confident one.
The other voice tornado with a small letter t, the Church girl, longed to refute him whilst the other urged her to yield to the gratifying pleasure he was invoking.
Now what! There I was, yielding myself to a man’s possession. I gave a mournful protest as he caressed every part of my body. Within a few minutes, I realized Tsunami was opening his zip. As I looked down, I was frozen into shocked stillness witnessing a Django ‘of a manhood’.
Ini, “heyzvooo”!
Terrified, I murmured, “Tsunami I can’t”.
He didn’t listen, drunk on testosterone, he touched every part of my body. Unable to stop him or to stop myself, I squirmed for making me so vulnerable, destroying my pride. Now thinking, by the time the evening is over he would have collected my pearls and known my temple so intimately more than I knew myself.
“Huh”!
“Tsunami no!” I softly murmured.
“Damn Tornado”, he swore hoarsely, you can’t tell me ‘no’ now! He leaned towards my face, his warm soft lips on my forehead and I am now in the cool shadows of his face. He groaned a little and whispered “I want you more than I have ever wanted any woman”, he paused for a second, gently pushed me down and I sank back into the couch.
He seductively leaned towards me, his hands on my hips and his mouth on the apex of my thigh. He held me in place groaning and mourning and skilfully slid ‘the veil’ that covered my pearls sideways with his mouth. He seductively pushed my legs wider and my dress moved higher.
I hear a choir, a choir of rhythmic erotic mourns and a collective groan from both of us. He wants me! He wants me badly. I want him too. I am experiencing this newfound incomprehensible sensational feeling I had never known or felt before.
My whole body is on fireworks, jingles and tingles. I am whimpering, needing more of him, panting and raging in need.
I could not believe that was what the Church elders always preached against, they made it look like it was an awful conspiracy against genitals.
‘What! They lied!’
He skilfully rips off my ‘Victoria Secret’ veil and now my flower is right in his face so exposed. He blows at it first before he starts counting its petals with his tongue repeatedly like a bee sucking nectar.
A rush of euphoric bliss enveloped me, chanting and mourning, I groaned “Tsunami!”.
Lost in a void of pleasure, the church girl in me surrendered to the gratifying pleasure. I could no longer think straight, all the hymns and verses in me were silenced.
I went from righteous to ratchet, from sacred to secular, I forgot I was a Preacher’s daughter. I wanted what I wanted!
Finally, face to face with a grown man’s manhood, his name ‘Django’. Now, ‘Django’ and I are having silent grown-up conversations, covenanted by lust, bound by desire we are both drooling longing for more.
Tsunami stared piercingly right in my eyes, the hypnotic smoky look in his eyes gave me assurance and full trust. I fixed my gaze at him for more than four seconds and our eyes locked. I pressed my lips from inside out whilst looking down at ‘Django’.
I slightly shifted and I gave Tsunami three short darting glances at an interval of about two to three seconds apart. He moved closer, his forehead on mine, our lips closer, inhaling his exhale, his right hand pulling my chin forward.
Lust and desire intertwined.
The scent of his body seductively clung on my nostrils aphrodisiacally like a pheromone. I was ripe and ready to mate. Over-taken by lust, I signed off my temple rights and softly whispered, “Collect thy pearls big boy”.
I shut my eyes in anticipation. In approximately one point two seconds before his Django touched my flower, in ecstasy, I seductively whispered, “Nami” silencing the Tsu in Tsunami, “It’s my first time, please be gentle.”
He gazed at me in shock … “What! YOU ARE A VIRGIN! WHA THA!” He hissed.
Immediately, his cell phone rang and for a moment I thought he intended to ignore it, but he got up and left closing the door behind him!
Ndakapera power.
Written by Rudo Muzondo
Extracted from the Novel ‘Storms of Vicissitudes’ ~ The book is available on Amazon in two formats, ebook to download and Hardcopy to order. Link below;
https://www.amazon.com/s?k=rudo+muzondo&crid=2EWR9LZ8J3FFM&sprefix=rudo+muzondo+%2Caps%2C692&ref=nb_sb_noss
