so Today’s post is from @DayDesola … Huh? Oh why the “Day” before the “desola” ba ? …Ermmm i’m also as confused as you are… you could ask her below thou or via twitter..
The use of Strong Language was adopted in this post…Reader’s Discretion Advised.
This Post is Rated (
18) 16+ due to the level of exposure in the country
She stood on the opposite side of the room and gazed upon his bronzed sculpted features and wished on all possible magical powers that he would be in her bed tonight. And so she stood there, looking at him with the conscious knowledge that he had noticed her staring, and yet she seemed uninterested in whatever thoughts he might have thought about her except for the one that might involve him in her bed tonight.
The only thing that kept her feet planted on the hardwood floor of the dimly lit club, and prevented her from going over to his table and declaring her utmost desire for him was the fact that society had hung over them stratifications and rules that they had to somehow follow or risk being tagged with the heavy label of slut, uncouth and being socially unfit.
But society be damned!!! She would have him in her bed tonight or curse her friends for dragging her here in a bid to whet her raging desires. And so she strolled over to his table but lost all confidence when he tilted his head back and laughed a deep hearty laugh and swung his arm over the gorgeous blond doll-like creature that was seated beside him, almost crawling into his laps. Her legs were slightly parted and would tease anybody seated across, and her bow-shaped lips were constantly pursed. Her smoky blackened green eyes remain active, stating a territorial claim.
And society approves of this, because a good-looking man should be with a good-looking woman, and they should hand in hand make the rules for love, and control the hierarchy of love, sex and power. She knows this. She would therefore be forever relegated to the background as she is left to dry up on the wall of mediocrity. Because her hair was ordinary, and her clothes were simple, a little bit above ordinary. She was ordinary.
She made for the bathroom, almost falling in towards the heavy-plated doors. She hung her head over the faucet and let the tears stream wordlessly down her face. Society seemed a bitch in heat that had screwed her over and over, consistently. At every fucking opportunity. And with her head bent over the faucet, and the mirror before her darkly revealing his shadow, she heard his voice behind her, so closely that she could feel the air escape his lips and brush the hair on her neck as he whispered a simple “Hey”.
She has taught herself to live simply and wisely, but passion makes a person stop eating, sleeping, working, feeling at peace. And so she sniffed and turned to face him such that his pelvic was pushing against hers and pressing her back into the ceramic bowl carved around the faucet. “Hey”, she returned.
They were so close against each other that they were exchanging breaths. He was breathing in as she was breathing out. Existing within the same breath.
“I’m going to kiss you now”, he says. She simply nods, desire has clouded her throat. But when he kisses her he does it so softly and with the tenderness of a man creating love with his other Lover. So she pulled back, rolled her hair over her head and asks, “What are you doing?”. “Kissing you.”, he replies. And she shakes her head and smiles coyly, perhaps she would throw society a curveball just yet.
Society has been a misleading part of the human race that allows men believe that all women want to be treated tenderly and softly, with the fragility of handling a child. Women are not children. Women are perhaps stronger than men.
She places both hands on his shoulders whilst pushing him towards the bathroom stall and cups his head with her palm, looks deeply into his eyes and says “I do not know you, neither do I wish to. Your name is irrelevant and the only thing that I would have of you tomorrow would be scars and marks. So do not give me gentle kisses. I want your fingers in my hair, your hands on my throat. You, over and on and into and through me. I want to feel you, soul-deep, hitting rock bottom for me. I want your hands on every inch of me, molding my flesh and making it yours. I want you to violate my body, penetrate my mind, and complicate my heart. And fuck my fucking brains out. Bodies curling into one and sweat and pain and fear and passion. Can you give me that?”
We are driven to extremities by society. It is only natural that after been curbed for so long by a throne of rules, there comes a point where the need to break free is unavoidable. She was at her breaking point and he could either serve a purpose by defying society, or conform with society and conclude that she probably had some sort of disease that she was eager to spread. Because society does not believe that an African woman, a Nigerian woman should maybe have the same sexual appetite as a man and even surpass it. Society does not support a woman who wants to have a random fuck with a stranger she picks up in the club. A man can do it but a woman can’t. A man is praised for it and a woman is ridiculed?
Society is a hypocritical dungeon that refuses to understand the bare animalistic instincts that continue to run through the veins of every human, man or woman. Men want to fuck, and women want to fuck. It’s a basic desire. And we are all human to the very core of our existence, surviving on basic needs of lust and love, power and control.
And so in that moment, she was simply daring him to misconstrue her intentions for something other than what it primarily was; a need. And society has made it such that we are carved in fear, unwilling to change, unable to tear away from the heavy weight of societal demands. And she needed him to. He could see it in her eyes, the deep desire that cried in volumes and instantly caused the blood to drain from his head into his head. He wanted her too, and would have given in to the desire that had snaked its way into his throbbing head. But society.
Society was watching. Society is always watching. He wasn’t expected to give in to a woman so daring. Something must be wrong wit her.
And so without even a backward glance as he walked out of the bathroom stall he murmurs under his breathe and says “You are something special. And I could love you, but I’m here with someone”.
Society has prevented her from having him in her bed tonight.
Fucking society. Society has fucked her, again. Society controls us.
@DayDesola reporting for Alariwo.org
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