Joy Ow’entinda

By on February 6, 2017
Sad Sitck man

….this is a continuation of a story that was started here by Joel Nevender and carried on here by Roland Byagaba.

Right in that moment, my entire body system pauses. I can not quite fathom how it emerged that the woman of my dreams has ended up being the girlfriend to my asshole of a brother.

How could the world be so heartless by putting me in the mother of all painful situations!

I am starting to feel comfortable in the bed despite my hidden anger towards my brother. Joy pulls even closer, as if to drown my thoughts of the wicked yet lucky brother.

“I hope this is not uncomfortable for you,” she cuts right through my thoughts.

“Not at all. I am just worried that instead of you transferring some heat to me I might transfer the cold to you,” I attempt an off colour joke.

“That is okay. We can share a bit of each. They say sharing is caring.” she responds, offering a smile.

You’re damn right sharing is caring! But not if my brother is involved. While I struggle to subdue my frustration at finding out that my brother is the asshole who has caused this miserable twist of events, I can’t help but wonder how many times he has been in this same bed.

Has he even ever gotten here? Has he ever been this lucky? Did he also have to get drenched in the rain to earn a chance to slide in between the sheets with the most beautiful woman in Ntinda?

Then my thoughts go back to my earlier woes; the taxi trip from Kisaasi back to Ntinda – such a horrible memory, the sad and pathetic meal served by the world’s most uninteresting waitress, the painful discovery about who was actually dating Joy.

And then the thoughts arrive back to my worthless yet lucky brother – the asshole. He was taking what rightfully belonged to me and he even had no idea about it.

I find my mind wandering to the Biblical story of Jacob and Esau. Was my brother now Jacob who stole Esau’s blessing? Or was he about to become Esau whose blessing was stolen. At this point, even I was uncertain how this would pan out.

By now, I had slowly drifted into some sort of mental black hole from whence my mind was refusing to return. I was reminded about what was happening when I felt her smooth skin rub against me. I was beginning to get hot, and so was she. My loins were themselves beginning to plan a riot and I had to switch my mind to think about the shortest and most painless way to kill my brother.

I had cuddled with my crush a few times in my dreams and never for real. Now here I was, enjoying the actually body warmth of the most gorgeous woman in Ntinda. Fine, I had to endure the worst hailstorm the World has ever seen and arrive at near death from the cold for me to earn this but I was keen to enjoy it while it lasted. The only problem was that she belonged to someone else. Did this even matter? How about I snatch her from him, seeing as he had snatched her from me. But wait, would she accept to be snatched?

All these thoughts ran through my mind as she and I innocently held each other in bed. My earlier thoughts of losing virginity seemed to have fizzled out of my mind as we held each other because neither of us seemed intent on starting up anything other than just the cuddling. She, perhaps because of my useless brother, and me because I was not so sure she would say yes to it. I had suffered humiliation already earlier in the day and I was not about to suffer humiliation yet again.

So we just lay there, holding each other like two Eskimos keeping each other warm and unbothered about what happens outside of their igloo.

Inbed

I was starting to get ideas …

Just as I was thinking perhaps I could whip up an old ‘Can I run my hands through your hair’ move, she slid out of the bed and made for the bathroom.

What had I done now? Had she come to her senses and perhaps decided that laying in bed with me was a mistake? Was she going to throw me out after all?  Was she …

“What is your favourite colour?” her voice called out from the bathroom, interrupting my thoughts.

“I don’t know. Red maybe?” I responded, half confused why suddenly my colour preference was being questioned at such a crucial moment in my life.

“You like the same colour that my boyfriend likes. Wow.” I heard her reply.

At this point, I was beginning to lose my mind. I could have sworn that I wanted to kill my brother, the lucky moron whose colour preference was strangely similar to mine. What a wuss!

“I bought a pair of panties and was wondering if my boyfriend would like them,” she emerged from the bathroom door, half naked in nothing but Red panties.

Silhoute

“You are the only person I can ask such a question and I am sure will not be angry at me.”

What the hell was wrong with this woman? Why was I even crushing on such a heartless being? Why would she woo me while plunging the dagger deeper inside my feeble and weather beaten heart? Why would she do this to me? Was this some form of punishment for loving her more than my asshole of a brother? Was this the reward I was getting for being the kind gentlemen to this angel? I bet my brother was somewhere oblivious to the fact that he was causing me more pain than I had ever felt before.

I wanted to say she looked fat but my pathetic feeble mind could not master the courage. So I managed a wry remark.

“The panties are nice. But they look a little small on her. Perhaps get a bigger size,” I hissed back at her, hoping to also plunge a dagger into her.

“That is what I told him. But he seems to think I am okay like this,” the heartless woman continued. “What do you think? I know he liked lacy underwear but ….”

“Stop it Joy. Stop it!”

I shouted as I jumped out of the bed and immediately went to the bathroom. She stepped back as if surprised that I was making this rather wild move on her.

But I was not making the move I had so longed for. I was determined to wear my clothes and leave this place. Ntinda and all its dwellers would surely burn in hell. Is this how they treat strangers from Bunamwaya?

Without saying a word, I quickly got into my damp clothes and made for the bedroom door. While all this was happening, she stood, transfixed, uncertain of what I was up to. Still half dressed, she followed me to the living room, profusely apologizing for being inconsiderate. She begged that I stay.

What a twist this was turning out to be.

But I was focused. I was leaving this hell hole called Ntinda. I was going back to my safe haven in Bunamwaya, where people don’t hurt each other with horrible food, bogus taxi touts and heartless women in red panties. I was going back home, where the rain did not just fall on me without prior warning. I was going back home to Bunamwaya.

She followed me from the bedroom to the living room as I headed straight for the door. I was in my damp clothes, keen to leave this place. And she was close behind, with her red panties.

As I opened the door to leave, she was following, half dressed in the legendary Red panties; with nothing on top but I wasn’t bothered. At least that is what I told myself. I was done with this humiliation. I was walking out to my own freedom. And nothing was going to get in my way.

And then she screamed, almost in a final attempt to get me to stop walking away.

“I will break up with your brother if you stay!”

… to be continued

 

beewol
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beewol

Baldie. Ailurophile. Social Media Junkie. Blogger. Pluviophile. Fixer. Sober Drunkard.
beewol
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One Comment

  1. Joel Benjamin Ntwatwa

    February 12, 2017 at 2:06 pm

    I wish someone had followed this up.

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