Edited by: Darlene Jones
Like a gardener, he had watched Okuoba grow. Now, the sight of her stirred him. For more than five full moons, he had suffered this exquisite distress even in his sleep.
The face was the first place people looked to determine whether a woman was beautiful or not before they looked at the other parts of the body to complete their assessment. With those tender curves asserting her cheek bones, short flute-like nose and exotic brown eyes, Okuoba could not just be described as beautiful. She was ravishingly beautiful. Her blatant figure emitted an aura that lifted her right out of the usual line of pretty women and made her sensational.
Today he swore he would further feed his eyes. He was tired of trying to imagine what she looked like without her wrapper on. He wanted to see it all; he wanted to see what she looked like down there. Lucky for him, he’d overheard her talk about having a bath in the stream the day before.
The hour was fairly dark with a few light shades in the sky heralding the rising of the morning sun. Stealthily he followed Okuoba and her servants, keeping a considerable distance yet not losing sight of them. As the women arrived at a secluded part of the stream which was meant for women only, he snuck up to one of the nearby trees in the bush and waited. From that vantage point he could survey the whole area around the stream.
He could hear the servants speak soothingly to Okuoba about her loss. Remembering how he had plotted the death of her brother, Nnanna, made him smile. Sleep well, fool, he cursed under his breath. Then he switched mental gears: He was present when Dubem returned to Umeh’s compound to break the sad news. However the young servant managed to escape the attack was still a surprise to him because he had instructed the killers not to spare him or any of Nnanna’s servants.
Wrappers falling freely from the bodies of the women slapped him out of his reverie.
As the servants moved around, rubbing light oil on their mistress, the tempo of his heartbeat doubled at the sight of their nakedness. But his eyes focused more on the one who had occupied his many dreams: Her breasts were firm and ripe, large and erect, the nipples jutting and round, telling him that they were black and proud, daring him to come out and touch them.
Perhaps his next line of action would bring Okuoba close to him, so close he would feel the softness of her body rubbing against his. But in the meantime he would only delight in her beauty. He couldn’t afford to pounce foolishly on his meal.
A strident sound quite close to him made the women turn sharply to his direction. He held his breath and didn’t move a muscle. A frog croaked. Blades of grasses crackled. One of the servants muttered something funny and they laughed. Okuoba was the first to turn her back to him again. While they all headed towards the stream, he exhaled. He looked longingly at the controlled rhythm of her delectable behind and the thrust of her long shapely legs. The gods had spent a little more time on her, he concluded.
With their ankles sunk deep in the clear water, the servants began to rub pieces of cloth and soap against their mistress’ body making the soapsuds flow white all the way down into the stream. The way they continued to pay attention to her body fuelled his appetite even further. He held fast to the tree to stop himself from running off into the water and taking hold of her.
Female voices approaching the stream made him swivel to the footpath. As much as he was enjoying what he saw, he knew that his time was up.
He couldn’t afford to get caught.
He followed another route and left the bush.
Part One|| Part Two
PS I want to express my sincere gratitude to Darlene Jones for editing this installment, likewise the one before it (that is, after I had posted it here). She has also offered to edit the rest of the story.
Jones has written four novels; four books I dearly look forward to reading. She’s also a wonderful photographer. You can find more about to her here.