Lust-driven beast

By  Eric Mariwa

We got back to the city and though we were utterly exhausted, the urge for each other’s body was overwhelming.

I grabbed Annabelle by the head and planted a deep kiss on her lips.

Between catching breaths, I undressed her.

I released myself to the most intimate and consuming love making in the recent past.

I was experiencing something out of this world.

I had surrendered myself to Annabelle.

My life revolved around Annabelle. And Annabelle revolved around me.

I met Annabelle at KTN’s Kenya Corner show at the Hilton Hotel. Ours was attraction on first sight.

She sat next to me and she appeared enthralled by the show. I wasn’t as loud-mouthed as the rest of those in the room. I had fun, but Annabelle blew me off. She was gorgeous.

A day later, we had coffee at Java Coffee House. The next, we had a candle-lit dinner. The third, we jumped into bed with Annabelle. I thought mine would be the usual one-night stand.

Actually, this looked more like the Simon Makonde tales. Seven days and I have done everything else I could think about.

Subconsciously, I felt that something was urging me to apply the breaks. But then I was in love. Actually, I was head over heals.

Madly in love

I tell you what, sometimes we men hate losing control of ourselves. We never allow ourselves to experience the valid interpretation of being madly in love. That feeling of liberating, uninhibited love. It is the love that is devoid of the fears of unrequited love. Love so deep, so strong, so real. It is like you could touch Heaven, if you are a believer.

Yet here I was. I seemed unable to find the grip to hold back and find that momentary balance. No one wants to lose their head. But then, I was experiencing a thrilling slide down a slippery hill of love.

That is the modern bachelor. The thrill is in the hunt. We hardly do a moral inventory of ourselves. Yet we are heavily laden. We are guilty. We are losers. Men ill at ease with their lives. We do things in the night, which at daybreak we ask ourselves whether it was worth the trouble.

My friends made fun of me when I told them about the new developments. They even took bets. That I would be dusting my hands and most certainly, have taken off to another conquest sooner rather than later.

“We know you Erick and women,” some would say. May be they were right.