FLEETING PLEASURE

He pulls her closer. “Kiss me,” he says. She obey. His voice is so compelling and demanding, every bone in her body yearns to say yes and do his bidding. She cannot control her reflexes. He gently places his lips on hers and caresses them with such tenderness she had no idea exists. Lips shrivelled from the harmattan come alive, blood rushes into them and they dance some sort of dance that says, “More”.

More he gets, more she gives. More she yearns to learn, much more he wants to teach. Every cell in their brain says, No. Don’t! Their bodies scream, Do more!

He lets her writhe, in pain, in shock, in pleasure, in disbelief. Just at that perfect stroke of time, their bodies shake violently as the waves rush in and rush by, and the clouds settle, and it clears from their eyes. And they sit and think about a future that was never going to be.

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