BLOODY MARY II
He stared at her from behind the massive glass window; she could hopefully not see
him due to the sun’s glare. Not that it mattered. He loved what he saw. She was
emerging from the twenty-five metres long lapis lazuli coloured swimming pool, her
lithe body wet. Oh, it was nice. A Cushitic build with lovely curves and undulations.
She was a rare skin tone, something even beauty commercials would itch for, a shade of chocolate and two shades down the so-called light skin. Furthermore, it was even. With a mane of hair only fairy tales princesses could afford. That was Faizul. He ogled on at the half Ethiopian counting her, among his long list of ex-beauties, a diamond among gems. She was having her midday swim, essential for the trim figure which he adored and which was essential for her existence in his life.
Underneath all the propaganda, their relationship was akin to symbiosis; for his bodily gain, she would enjoy financial gain and the perks of hard-earned money.
He wasn’t always like this, him, Matthew Croft. He had a nice family back in the days
but he was widowed and the children had left the nest and were scattered in a myriad of countries. A brief stint at courtship never really worked and he now lived like this; with arrangements and not relationships. They were four of them. Elsie was a National Geographic documenter on polar bears and other icy things he could not
even dare to care of. But she was happy, visited him last year August when he was at
the Mara watching the Migration. Bloody exciting it was for her and they had such a
memorable time together. He loved it despite watching it every year since he came to the country-14 years back. The other two, Conrad and Pierce were bankers at
different banks in the world and making enough money not to care much about an
old greyed geezer like him weathering in the bowels of Sub Saharan Africa. Sons they were, at least he had been smart enough to divide his estate in England just in time to prevent the muddy waters of family inheritance from drowning him later in life. He loved the country. It was simple and with much potential. Its people kind and highly accommodative. Its girls tasty and a refreshing, break from the drugged and colourless ones he had feasted on when his hair was still a vivid auburn.
It was at a social dinner they met. At the launch of some major beer brand at
Radisson Blu. Hennessy? Her conversation was lively and had the spark that he needed in his sunset years. He was seventy but looked more of sixty and still worked out and went for judo classes. He ate her fruits delightfully and passionately, covered in satin sheets and overlooking the weekend Upper hill night scene that day. Magical.
She was just the tigress he wanted. The orgasms were drenching and were with such intensity incomparable. He did not mind her around him for the time being. Her upkeep was in the hundreds of thousands, well so what? He thought. All this money was going to be used anyway.
In a pink G-string and topless she came in, her hands coiled around his neck and she
kissed him gently while sitting on his lap. She let him fondle with her breasts, her
lovely breasts. His hands held the enormity that was her behind. Boys. It was
playtime. He loved these sessions. His carnal desires were still at an all-time high and
he was happiest when those legs were parted, inviting him in like a long-lost hero back to his village. However, he loved the times when they dined in his backyard or at the gazebo too. When Petro, his manservant, arranged a lovely set of two littered with cuisines from all corners of the earth and heartwarming drinks. Tonight was
Glennfidich and he couldn’t wait to get her talking. He loved her mind.
Though young, she was brilliant and her thoughts on contemporary issues such as gender balance and the future of Computers was remarkably engaging. Though his
background knowledge of her was sketchy he guessed that she had probably studied
out of the country. She veiled herself well and he delighted in the mystery. He could
not predict her next move and her surprises in and out of the bedroom kept him on
the edge tantamount to a comic fan in a cinema displaying a DC movie.
It was late afternoon by the time he was satisfied with her. He was slow this time, with more deliberate thrusts watching her fragile face as he penetrated her. Feeling his ego stroked when she orgasmed the second time. Loving her moans when he mouthed her breasts and teased her thighs with his fingers leaving her enflamed in bodily need. It was Thursday and the next day he was due for a board meeting in Switzerland for a Biotech company he had invested in. This was him, an investor. He had it in his blood and did it for the passion of seeing companies with worthwhile ideas flourish. He would probably go with her, his diamond. Yeah, get her a few Chanel and Gucci accessories along the way. He abruptly wondered how she would look in a mink coat…he loved the image that came to him. She had gone to prepare herself for dinner. She always took her time so it was best to start early. She would always come out looking like a siren, with a dreamlike aura around her screaming paradise and bliss.
He was almost always devoid of what to say. She was a blue moon indeed. He
sat in the bamboo-rope seat next to the window. Muthaiga. He loved it. Just warm
enough and enclosed in a forest of trees away from the prying eyes of whatever
wanted to look. Not to mention the abundance of his rich friends around, white or
black. He had never got the racist flaw in him.
Then he got an idea for the night. Why not call Rogers over? They had been friends
for a long time often even investing in similar start-ups. Rogers was German and he
too had got bitten by the love bug for the country known for exquisite safaris and
crisp white beaches. Just one thing, he thought. Rogers would come with May, his
wife of 30. While he had bedded her some time back it was a one-time fling. It was
one of his blemishes he actually did not like. Bitch. She had seduced him when Rogers was out in America for two weeks. He was home when she came that day reading the quarterly profits of a tech company based in Arizona. He knew she had won when she closed the bathroom door and it was the just the two of them in the shower, nude, with two glasses and a bottle of champagne. It was more of “Toast to our sins” than “If I lick yours you eat mine”.
But he would fight it this evening. May just had to contend with him having a new
catch. He called Petro for the night’s plans then he felt a pain in his chest come with a suddenness even he did not fathom. In the three seconds or so he was still conscious many questions came up. “Stroke? Cardiac Arrest? No Dr Munga had told him his heart was good,” not a good way to end. No, it was too soon. Was he was mouthing a prayer?
He saw Petro running to him as his vision went hazy. He was falling and the late
afternoon sun was being swallowed by the looming darkness, where was she now?
Matthew Croft’s head fell into the hands of his swift manservant.
T H E F L O R I S T.