One Silent pleasure

A Short Story (From an Original screenplay by Bababo Ikuemonisan)

Silent pleasure, loud disaster. Symphonic rhythm.

She pestered violently at me, like a vendor whose products were taken without a fee. She shouted like a frustrated cat pursuing an empowered rodent. She burnt with a tripod of pains - she launched missiles at me and poured out her stormy, steamy anguish. With fierce moral power, I pummeled cool, very calm like a hot water undergoing the menace of Canada winter. Kachi, completely enraged, she launched further at me like a broken woman unleashing her venom- powder on the surface of the blue sea. It felt like I should ask the ground to open its mouth and swallow me. Of cause, I haven't seen this human beast before. I terribly freezed out. Hell no! I didn't bargain for this - but I couldn't have asked for the contrary. 

We had one silent pleasure and the rhythm of it now plays before us - inside our heads. It felt like the heaven is coming down. We are torn apart. Shattered. The whispers of Disaster were loud enough. But enraptured in the finesse of chemistry, we ditched these whispers. My Lord, if you may. I mean, make us not finished. Give us the testament of rejuvenation. That we may bask in your glory, and not gory from a the savour of one escapade -   we are not the first to fuck. God, the weather was foggy yesterday. Then suddenly, it poured heavily - many legs would have been betwixt under the duvet; sweat and grease from down there exchanged between bodies -  culminating in hot athletic bedmatics. Our sin I guess, we were 16 and had gone a path forbidden for kids. But, we both consented and blissfully had it. It felt so sweet. Not enough justification for our sin though. But we plea thee, not to punish us for our sweet sin. Not now! Not never, beacuse, we desire this path again. At least many times until we are adults enough.