Mrs. Ukwu is known to give orders sitting at one place. Of course she cannot move around with expected swiftness, considering her size. But she can talk. She sits at one place and gives orders and directives the way a Commanding Officer in the army gives orders to a guard of honour. Mrs. Ukwu can simply be described as a charter box. That is a well-known of her indulgences.
Sometimes she wonders why she grew so big. Not that she is a gourmand; she rarely eats much these days. But her friends say it is happiness that is making her big. And now they don’t use the word fat. A euphemism has taken care of that. Even when she makes request for new clothes, she emphasises her plus-size…”You know I am plus size, so the gown has to go down; you understand…”.
Cordelier was a pretty, irresistible young woman when Mr. Festus Ukwu met her in her final year at the University of Nigeria, Enugu campus 17 years ago. She came with Festus niece to see him when he visited to drop message (money) and found out about his niece welfare, as his elder brother, Ngozi’s father directed him. Festus was a bachelor who graduated from the University of Lagos few years ago and came to Enugu to participate in the building of low cost housing the state government was constructing for low cadre workers. But like all things government, the dream was sublime, it never fully materialised after few buildings were raised.
Cordelier may be the only justification for that sojourn as he gained nothing else after leaving Lagos for two months for Enugu. His love for her was beyond words. He became jittery, he quivered. He didn’t know how to ask Ngozi about her friend. He became unsure of himself. But Ngozi understood everything. She used to support her father when he insisted that Festus must settle down. And now she could see him falling in love. Festus, a bold, courageous and gregarious personality cannot be so emasculated by love. But that was the reality.
Ngozi told Festus that she would bring Cordelier home the next weekend, so he had to postpone his return to Lagos. And when they arrived it was Cordelier that did the cooking, not knowing that she was being evaluated. That was not the first she was visiting Ngozi’s home. In fact, she was part of the family. Everybody knew her and Ngozi’ father called her my daughter. It was in the evening when they were watching Nigerian home video in Ngozi’s room that Festus knocked and walked in. He was more composed and he knew his mission. But he was suddenly disarmed and he temporarily lost his composure when he saw Cordelier’s luscious and firm breasts attempting to stagger out of her transparent, high quality night gown.
His reaction was obvious; his hard-on was instant. Women are always ahead on matters of relationships. They see the signs far ahead of the men. Cordelier quickly rose from her seat and went and covered herself up. Festus offloaded the goodies he bought for his niece and friend on the small table beside the two only chairs in the room. He was still standing, smiling. The hilly expression on his trousers, which he attempted but failed to shield, has calmed down. He had already made up his mind: I must marry that girl.
Things worked out as planned but it took another two years, a year after Cordelier’s national service that they established the understanding to marry; or Cordelier agreed and told her parents in Imo state that a certain man has expressed the desire to marry her and she had agreed. But they had become intimate before then. The first time they made love was in the tiny self-contain room given to Cordelier as a corper teacher in a government college somewhere in Kafanchan.
They had gone out to eat and while away the time. Festus had persuaded Cordelier to follow him to his hotel room, but she refused. Then he decided to see her off to her staff quarters home in the school. The room was graced by a tiny bed, well made and clean, a reading desk and at the other side were women things. The room was very clean and well ordered. Festus was reluctant to leave, but he had to go back to his hotel. Cordelier felt at home for the first time, not really wishing he would go so soon.
It was when Cordelier raised her gown to put her foot on a stool to remove her shoe that something sparked in Festus head. Her sensuous thigh literally ignited in him a randy fire and set him ablaze with lust. He waltzed to her in lecherous grace and touched her thigh. She collapsed into his arms. He felt a low moan, almost like a grunt easing from her. That exacerbated his desire. His phallus was full, rebelling against his trousers. But he quietened himself; otherwise he would do a bad job and leave awful impression.
He slowly began to caress her, the moaning became more audible. His body was losing patience, but he had to take it easy. He moved his hand towards her breast; she did not remove it. In fact, she seemed retired in his hold. Slowly he opened up her gown and unhooked her brassier. Her full breast glared at him. Transfixed by the breast, he quickly grabbed the nipple with his lips, sucking softly. Her moan began to reverberate. He thought of her neighbours. Who cares!
Then he quickly pulled her clothes and struggled out of his. But she was too shy to see her body so exposed. She was struggling to hide herself in the bed sheet when he tried to enter her. He failed. His phallus was turgid, as solid as police baton; it was difficult to enter her. What is this? Is she pretending? What has gone wrong? Anger was brewing at his last attempt when he felt himself inside. He felt a tightening around him phallus, some tingling pain, her cry and his coming! So quick?
That is 17 years memory it is like yesterday.