“Ah Romeo”

Section 133 is taking a little light relief

Parking at maison Nsansa was akin to squeezing a truck into a shoebox.

Parking at maison Nsansa was akin to squeezing a truck into a shoebox.

Vernon squeezed his little cabriolet with difficulty into the parking space next to the Chinese restaurant. He fancied that the air reeked with the smell of grease and Mono-sodium-glutamate as he walked the short distance to Nsansa’s back door.

He knocked and waited, and as the key rattled in the lock and the bright colours of her blouse created patterns in the frosted glass, Vernon realised that his head was spinning so fast it made it difficult to remain in the present moment.

“Ah Romeo, ingeleni mukwai.” Nsansa’s injunction to come in was hard to comply with however as she had stepped forward and kissed him firmly, holding onto his beard to prevent him pulling back. “Shani tu tea, or coffee? Finshi ukalya? I’m making scrambled eggs on toast. ”

Desire was rekindled and in the candlelight Vernon shrugged off his troubles along with his clothes.

Desire was rekindled and in the candlelight Vernon shrugged off his troubles along with his clothes.

She was obviously pleased to see him and her glee was like a tonic. She pulled him into the room playfully and kissed him again, and Vernon, for the first time in quite a while, felt horny. As they fixed a light meal together refused visas and ongoing fraud investigations seemed very remote.

The meal was followed by a relaxed conversation in which Vernon found that Nsansa was very content in her new placement, as besotted with Wales as was himself but planning nevertheless to come out to Thailand for a holiday once he was settled there.

As Nsansa attended to night-time preparations in the bathroom Vernon played distractedly with the numerous beads of a broken necklace lying on the bedside cabinet. He formed the beads into a shape while he mused over the events of the evening and quickly gathered his toiletries for his turn. When he turned out the bathroom light and re-entered the bedroom he found it swathed in candle-light and Nsansa draped over the white bedspread like a fallen statue. She beckoned him to the bed and whispered “The heart, in beads, and the ‘I missed you’. You have melted me.” Confidently she pulled his night clothes from him. She whispered erotically as he tumbled onto the bed and allowed her to massage his weariness from him, “Oils my love; to help you relax, but don’t relax too much. It’s your turn next, and then…”

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