The Forbidden Fruit

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As he sat across me on the new brown sofa, I looked at his smile. His white, beautifully arranged dental formula gave me chills. For the first time my aunt had left me with her boyfriend. She had gone to see her friend off.  

It was like leaving meat with a hungry cat. You can imagine. He had been hitting on me for several months. I felt something for him too, but I wasn’t sure what it was. My aunt had always been suspicious and often kept us on watch. Except for this Sunday afternoon.

He looked at me, rubbing his hand around the sofa he sat on. I knew he was calling me to sit beside him, but I was scared. If my aunt walked in, all hell would break loose. I played blonde, pretending not to understand his gesture.

He looked at me and his eyes were like a sharp spear deep into my heart. My heart and mind were already on that sofa, but my legs were too feeble and weak.

I smiled back, looking at the flat screen which was then showing a football match between Manchester United and Arsenal. I have never understood what really goes on in a match, but that day one would have mistaken me for a vibrant football fun.

He stood and walked across to my sofa. His cologne ran through my nostrils turning every atom of my being on .He put his on my thigh, lifting my short skirt by an inch. For a moment I was totally frozen.

I could not explain what was going through my mind. I then placed my hand on his, trying to get it off. It did not work. It felt like glue, in fact, super glue, had been applied on our hands. My hand remained on his and we looked at each other dumb founded.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Like yeah I’m okay,” I thought to myself.

Did he really expect me to be okay? He surely was testing me. I looked back at the screen, and he held my chin, turning my face towards him. We were now less than a centimeter away from each other. My eyes could only see his lips. His eyes too were looking down, not sure at what. I had lost myself.

We closed our eyes and I our foreheads with our foreheads touching each other. I could feel him breath so close to me. As his breathing came nearer and nearer, I felt his cold lips on mine. Just then, I heard the door lock open from outside.


I was not sure of which moment to freeze. The fear of my aunt catching us in action, or the amazing moment I was experiencing. But most definitely, I hoped one would last. Or not.

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Precious Wangechi

I write in order to share the story of Africa with the world

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