To make love to a god – Part 1

To make love to a god – Part 1

I was just a guy. Maybe a great guy, but still a guy. He was a genius of looks and being. He was godlike in his subtle ways.

No thanks or apologies to his beautiful handsomness.

His abs looked factory done. You would forgive anyone for thinking the gym was too inferior to achieve that look.

I had heard about this guy, this not-guy; in fact, my girlfriend and I. I’d said if the things they said were true, he could take any man’s wife.

My girlfriend thought my comment was insulting and belittling. She loved me like the stars must love the moon. She yearned for me, not with her heart and body alone, but with her soul as well.

If anything would change that, it would not be a guy. It would not matter if he was a dozen god levels above other normal or great guys. She said-swore-that she could not be swayed by anything mortally owned or provided on a human, regardless of the cosmic extent.

I told her some things were easier said when not having been directly experienced.

She vehemently disagreed.

THREE MINUTES IN THE BATHROOM WITH A SEX PRO

So, I quietly staged a strange and false clandestine visit with the guy who was not just a guy.

It began like it just happened. I made him run into her by a deliberate mistake. His hair was dyed white and he wore sunglasses.

Ripped jeans.

All stars sneakers.

Dripping a hundred times hotter than Tyson Beckford.

I was watching closely.

As he picked up her purse that had fallen to the ground, he smiled slightly and curtsied an apology.

All ever so subtly.

She held her breath. I saw it. I bet she was weak around her knees too.

Then he said some stuff that got her giggling. Soon after she gave him her number.

All that was half-okay. The matter only took a nosedive when I asked her if anything happened today, and she said nothing.

To be accurate, she said her day was boring as a desert.

I asked if she met anyone new.

She waited a minute, looked at me closely, pensive, and then said no.

So, I made him wear a cam when he visited.

They made small talk. They laughed a lot. And then they ate.

Dang! She actually pounded yam for him.

When he asked if she was involved with anyone, she said she would rather not say.

Then he stepped up to her and asked her what she would rather say.

She was quiet. Her senses seeming overridden by his cosmic, mortally provided looks and being.

At that moment when the world appeared to have stood still, and her breath all but taken away, he kissed her.

She kissed him back.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Kingsley Alaribe

Kingsley Alaribe is a Digital Marketer with 1stNews, and writes the weekly column, Strangers and Lovers. He is also a Data Scientist.

Email: kingsley.alaribe@1stnews.com
Kingsley Alaribe

About The Author

Kingsley Alaribe is a Digital Marketer with 1stNews, and writes the weekly column, Strangers and Lovers. He is also a Data Scientist. Email: kingsley.alaribe@1stnews.com

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