THE FIRST TIME WE… HAD SEX
“The Best Laid Plans”
My name is Biola. Abiola Alexander Akinwunmi. My father must have been very proud that day at the naming ceremony. Sitting beside me on the bed, pretending to study her face in bedside mirror is my wife, Bisi. The very recent, Mrs Adebisi Agatha Akinwunmi. My father would be proud of her too, his soul rest in peace. I got married this morning see. Beautiful celebration, awesome sermon, which I heard none of, but which everyone concurs, and I had eight hundred people at my reception according to George, our wedding planner. Which is sad, according to Bisi because, it means we will get at most thirty gifts. But it’s good, I’m happy. I’m married to the girl of my dreams.
During the reception, while everyone was still drinking and screaming ‘Igwe e!’, I grabbed Bisi and snuck out. I had arranged with Pastor Tim, my bestman, for my car to be waiting for me in the car park, so it was a simple matter of jumping in and zooming off, alone, to our honeymoon. You see, I’m a very romantic guy; I had a plan for my wife. None of that whole, family crowded in your house something, we were going to be alone tonight. And besides, my reservation at Hotel Senatorial, PHC, cannot waste.
Anyway, we got stuck in Aba road traffic for almost two hours. It was crazy.
Let me tell you the plan. After sneaking out the reception, and getting to the hotel in less than twenty minutes, Mr and Mrs Akinwunmi step out of their car, him in his three piece suit, jacket slung over his shoulder, and a grin wide enough to span the Suez canal on his face. She, still in her wedding gown, glitter all over her face, a shy blush on her cheeks, and the ultimate sultry look in her eye.
“Mr and Mrs Akinwunmi for room 307 please.”
Then we will giggle up the elevator, hot nervous kisses all the way, to our room, pre-scented, as per order, with red scented candles, complimentary champagne and a soft, soft, very inviting, definitely sexual bed.
The best laid plans of men and mice.
For some reason completely beyond my understanding and totally blamed on my grandmother’s village, one of those APC people booked the entire third floor, our reservations got mixed up in the shuffle and suddenly we had no rooms. Na so bros reach desk dey talk, concierge dey look am like say e craze. By the time we finished clearing up the muddle, and paying for newer, more expensive rooms, it was 10pm. We were tired, embarrassed and everyone kept giving us pitying looks.
“Eh ya. See them, no money to pay. And dey be wan do honeymoon”
Bisi, had gotten pissed somewhere between unhelpful concierge and a British contractor and guest at the hotel who thought she was “surely, such a beautiful jungle beauty”. And suddenly, I think, everyone knew we were a Yoruba couple. Me? I just kept hoping none of my church members saw us.
So here we are, in an unscented room, half in the dark, staring at the TV watching a Senator scream. I wish someone would shoot him. Bisi isn’t even saying anything, which is quite surprising. Since we entered the room, the foolish bellboy still waiting for tip, it’s been the silent treatment of life. It’s my wedding night, and I’m not finding it funny. She just entered, dropped her clutch-bag on the mantel beside the TV and walked, straight into the bathroom, unzipping her gown on the way. The thin white panties she had underneath were lace, and barely covered anything. Behind, her bottom jigged and swayed, black mounds that reached into me and started a stir. I took off my shirt. My wife, has a very smoothly shaped behind I tell you.
We just showered separately, and came back to lie down.
“You should have confirmed the reservations before we left the reception.” Aha! I was waiting for it.
Bisi is one year older than I am; a fact few of our friends know about, and somehow feels it’s her birthright to admonish all of my failings. She’s often right, but no less galling. Nevertheless though, she’s never steered us wrong and that’s one of the things I love about her. But honestly if GOD had not spoken ehn?
“And the traffic jam,” I reply goading her on.
“You should have asked someone on Twitter or something. Shebi if we passed through GRA we will have…”
Ah..what did I tell you?
“Come here jor, you too complain sef,” I tease as I pull her closer with my left arm. She is wearing nothing underneath the duvet, our clothes, and those lace panties, having been divested on the floor, and my hand slips over her breast, the nipple hardening instantly. I reach with my other arm and bring her even closer, my hands running down her back and over her bum. A thrill runs through me and unconsciously, I have a sharp intake of breath. Bisi pretends to struggle, but soon she relaxes against my chest. Her leg runs up my thigh bringing my knee close to her centre, which is beginning to get very warm. I turn and stare at the TV. I see nothing. My hand is still on her bum, but it has gone numb long ago. The never before feel of her naked body against mine is too exciting and I don’t know what to do next.
I have never had sex with my wife before. I have never had sex before. Suddenly, the promise I made so many years ago doesn’t make much sense. I feel inadequate, inexperienced, like she might laugh at any second. It’s not like I don’t know what to do; it’s just; what if I don’t do well. I know Bisi had a boyfriend before she met me, so, what if I don’t measure up. These thoughts run through my head, speeding around and around, while I just stare at the TV, my ardor melting into hopelessness.
Bisi runs her hand over my chest, her fingers making tiny circles around my nipples, and turning my face to hers says, “I love you Mr Akinwunmi, and I’m very happy we’re married.” Then she kisses me.
But this woman sha!
Outside, a low growl in the cloudy skies to the East, but over Port Harcourt city, the stars shine down, twinkling radiance mirroring the argon lights that blaze through the town. A light mist rolls in from the coast, sweeping over the ground in light brushes. A long caress over low hills and steepled mounds, flick flick at the wet portions.
I kiss her back, light, then deeply, pulling her closer as I reach for more pleasure, her body crushed against mine. My hand runs over her breast, kneading the soft mound slowly as I squeeze her nipple between my fingers. Bisi runs her hands down my back, her long nails tracing thin scratches that should hurt, but only excite me further. My back arches as I grind my pelvis into hers, my hands going over to cup her round buttocks. She climbs on top of me, and kisses my neck, her wet tongue flicking across my chest, till she takes my nipple in her warm mouth. I let out a low moan. Already, her centre drips with desire, and I can feel the wet against the stiffness which threatens to explode me. Flipping her over with a strength I didn’t know I possess, I pin her arms down as I bend over her neck. I bite softly, letting my tongue linger on her neck. Going lower, I lick across her nipples slowly, first the left, then the right, then take it into my mouth, sucking. As I lean above her, my penis brushes against the folds of her centre, the sensation is total, and for a second I barely breathe. I lean back and forth, letting my hardness play along the soft furriness. Bisi rocks against me, her eyes closed, chest heaving in undulating rhythms.
There is only one thing left to do.
“In! Inside now!” she cries.
I pause. I know what to do, but suddenly…
Bisi opens her eyes and I search them for the disappointment I expect to see. Instead, all I see is love suffused with desire, and understanding. She smiles.
“Relax,” she says, her legs still parted, hands reaching upward for me.
But, I have to ask. The question has always been there, snug at the back of my mind.
“Adebisi, is it…have you ever…?” the words are hard to find.
“No, it isn’t. I have. I’m not a virgin. It was before you of course. But now, and always, I’m yours forever,” she replies, her fingers clasped over my shaft, pulling me closer.
Bro, that’s all I needed to know.
The First Time…We special is proudly sponsored by SureGifts.com.ng
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