The girl I met in church

 

However recluse a man is, it is always different when a woman is involved. It’s a man’s world, but it’d be nothing without a woman.

                It was Sunday morning, and when I woke up, I was tired. The alarm clock beside my bed had done the job.

                I stopped the ringing before it was finished. It was exactly 6 a.m. I stretched tiredly, waited for another five minutes or so, and then sat up. For a moment I seemed to have forgotten there was someone else sleeping, or pretending to be asleep, half naked beside me. It was when I turned on the fluorescent light that I became fully aware of her presence. I ignored to look at her and reached for the big-sized King James Bible on a pile of books on my reading table. I am as religious as I am impious. I read a few verses in a chapter from the epistle and said a five-word prayer: ‘Thank you Lord for today.’

                It was what I usually did. I’d wake up at 4am and read a few pages of book until it was 6:30. But I had adjusted the alarm on my clock to 6 o’clock the day before because it became that I’d spend the night with the company of a woman and I knew a lot of act would happen during the night.

                After the five-word prayer, I began a sit-up exercise. Then the girl lying on my bed turned so that her bare chest was exposed. She pulled up the piece of bedspread over her waist to cover her breasts but I could still see a little skin of them. I stopped my exercise and leaned over to her. With both of my knees on the tiled floor and my right hand brushing, gently, her scattered weaved hair, I said, ‘Good morning, beautiful.’

                She smiled. She was beautiful but not irresistible, her skin honey, and her hair ebony. I reached with my left hand and tucked some hair behind her ear. I kissed her forehead.

  ‘Did you sleep well?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes. But still tired.’

It was my turn to smile. ‘Don’t worry.’ I said, ‘Rest. I’ll make tea. They say Milo gives strength.’ She giggled a smile. What I felt for her was not love. I wasn’t in love with her. I’m a bit of what Robert Greene describes as a Rake. In any moment I’m with a woman, however brief it is, I make her feel she’s the only woman in the world.

                As I tried to move my left fingers from her hair, my arm brushed aside the bedspread on her chest to reveal her large, strong breasts. I did it on purpose. She moved her hand to pull it up, but I held it. She relaxed without a struggle. I squeezed the protruded body gently, causing her to moan a chuckle.

  ‘Today is Sunday and I intend to go to church. If not, I’d love to be here with you and we can have as much fun as we can until you’re ready to go home.’ She was already used to the blunt way in which I say things.

It was exactly three weeks ago that we met. On a Sunday. I had gone to church and it was my first day at the church – a Winners Baptist Church. It was not one with crowded members. We met at the entrance; she was about 5ft8 in a high-heeled shoe, and curvaceous. I called her attention, and then I told her it was my first day and asked if I was late. She said no and welcomed me. The idea of asking was only to get an acquaintance.

                After service had ended and I had not identified myself as a first timer, we talked and she asked why I didn’t come up as a first timer. I told her I didn’t want everybody looking at me, and more particularly I wanted her to be the one to invite me another day.

                I told her my name was Michael and she said she was Bola. We exchanged phone numbers and that was it. The rest was on call and chat.

                I had been unbelievable and blunt as hell when I decided to invite her over to my apartment. She had asked if I had anything for her.

  ‘I have enough for you.’ I had answered. I was bored with women playing around when they know exactly why you want them to come over to your house. And then I had learnt to be absolutely blunt with them. A lot of time could be wasted trying to woo a woman so nicely. Unless you are such a lover guy who thinks he has all the time in the world. Most often, after wasting time, you end up getting nothing and disappointed. So the preferred idea for me is to drop the buzz as it is and watch her reaction.

                And then I had dropped it.

  ‘When you come, we’ll talk and talk, and when we are both tired of talking and have nothing more to say, we will have sex.’ Her response was sharp. ‘God! Michael!’ She asked what I said and I said it again.

                It was about 6 o’clock in the evening on Saturday that she came. We talked as I told her and I offered her a Nitrain wine I had in my room. I warned her it had some alcoholic content, but she took it anyway. We talked more, and then I began to play a DJ Darclay’s blues mix from my Home Theatre and in the next hour she was sleeping on my bed. It was either an inducement from the wine or she was faking dizziness.

                And that was how we woke up in the morning after screwing severally at night.

                While I was boiling water on a gas cylinder for tea, I got a ping on my phone. I checked. A girl I had always invited over to my place had promised to come after church service.

                It was in this situation that the unthinkable happened.