The IT Man

Closing evening, I had an additional episode of intercourse with my husband, no longer the best intercourse yet nevertheless intercourse; it become tasteless, part a adventure sort of quickie, the sort that I even have persevered in the course of the ten years of our in a different way most excellent marriage in line with the click and the general public.

Negative intercourse nonetheless results in being pregnant yet would not result in toddlers with field-heads or young children with 3 legs. I've got two candy teens. Jack is 3 years previous and style is 5. My family members is worked up, anyone is excited. However am starved of fine intercourse - to loss of life.

Until now my marriage, in my little mama’s kitchen, whilst cooking cassava and stitching the hem of her tank costume, she’d instructed me that what had cemented her marriage was once being a respectable lady. A fantastic lady doesn't grumble, doesn't inform her guy what to do on mattress. A lady who says what she needs on mattress is a prostitute.

That’s why I actually have shackled my thoughts closer to our IT consultant’s mammoth chest and biceps and his legs whilst he wears his khaki shorts on weekends. I've got have shyed away from eye touch whilst he involves my place of work to repair my Laptop; while he reaches for the mouse over my shoulder to teach me how-to. I preclude his great arm, which in my delusion international, kills me. Once i examine Men’s Healthiness, convinced I do sometimes, I stay contemplating our IT man. short white

I as soon as requested him if he reads Men’s Overall healthiness and he suggested each and every severe guy does. I'm close to targeted he intended ‘every extreme guy on bed’. My husband reads ‘Parents’ for all time, a mag jam-packed with pregnant females and, nicely, sorry, miserable studies of ways ‘we struggled by means of miscarriage’.

It’s a hot morning at present, my husband is in Harare and its a vacation the following at house. The place of job can be empty. The previous day, I had lied to our IT man, and he’s coming to my administrative center to mend a non-current predicament. I simply like to fantasise over his biceps and hands. I'm hoping he is available in his khaki shorts and his becoming white golfing blouse.

I have to seem younger and throw him a curveball and exhibit him am nevertheless inside the butterflies age: the day prior to this I’d scrapped off my braids and left my hair normal and kinky. To check his khaki brief, am having my edgy leather-based shorts too. I'm hoping they make my legs miles lengthy. He’d published on Facebook that he likes lengthy legs.

It’s 12PM. That’s the sound of his Honda motorcycle and this is the WhatsApp message from my hubby - ‘hello hun! - and i'm sweating…

Flash Fiction via Oduor Jagero