Something Borrowed

Something Borrowed(Allyson Moamogwe) Something Borrowed

My story is neither like the rest, nor the typical, but it is one of real and genuine pleasure of adoration. This story begins, however, like any other; a broken heart in need of mending, a knight all too eager to lend a helping hand and a stumble upon something great. Before I start though, on this tale of greatness, let me first give gratitude to the man who will be called C.L. My gratitude comes in the form of a poem I wrote him the day before I was set to leave for Botswana. It was not a farewell-forever, but it fit to write it to him and here it is...

THANK YOU
If a thank you was a kiss
I would give you a thousand in abundance
If it be a touch let my skin
Caress yours ever so kindly
If it be a hug
Feel my body tenderly upon yours
But since it is words let
Their sincerity lay upon you
And be accepted with delight
Let their candour slightly move inside
Your soul and uplift your spirit
If a thank you was a look
Let my eyes stay upon you
With the frankness of eternity
Let them communicate the gratitude I hold
And let them be truthful in all feeling.
Since thank you comes as words
Let them slip from my heart, through
My lips and straight into your ears
Like a whisper, as loud as possible
For your heart to receive
I say thank you
For making me become...
And for my becoming the best
Of me that I possibly can
Forever grateful


WHEN WE MET
I cannot remember the exact day we met, nor if we even spoke to each other, but I do remember that we met. I never really make an effort to impress guys when my friends are around and so on this day I did just that; I played cool and answered what I was asked, I pretty much preferred not to talk. However these guys that my friend Yo decided we had to meet were somewhat intriguing. There was this one who was perverted, as he was undressing me with his eyes; not that I had much on to begin with, let’s just say my outfit left little to the imagination. Anyhow, that is neither here nor there, these men were having a braai (we came right at the end of it) and we sat there; Yo, B and I. Now B was my roommate and, at that moment, very closest friend.

She pretended to be bored, I pretended to be offended by the pervert, and I really was not. For a new mom I looked rather hot, and men could ogle all they wanted. C.L was among these men, he was the host in fact. He offered us drinks. I was not a drinker back then so I opted for some juice and my friends and I sat there for a while. These men started conversing in Afrikaans and I was really charmed by it all. Though after a while I started feeling offended as I could not get all they were saying. So we left. Yo stayed behind as the guys wanted to hug her or whatnot, B and I walked away without a care.

Truth be told, I did not give those guys a second thought once I walked away from their ‘session’. A couple of weeks passed and then I saw C.L again. He was from soccer and I forget where I was coming from but we talked a bit about school and how he wants to go back next year. The next time I saw him again we stood in front of my apartment and talked about his stupid pervert of a friend and how the guys have ‘representatives’ when they meet women. Now the thing with these ‘reps’ is to hook a girl or to scout her out. If she is worth the taking then the ‘rep’ takes a back seat and the real guy shows himself. This was all fascinating and all because I could not help but wonder what his game was.

Knowing guys, I had automatically assumed that he liked C or Yo. That is just the way I have experienced things with guys. I am the last resort when all the Prom queens are taken. Anyhow, we kept meeting and having wonderful chats and not once did he try to hook up with any of us girls. I thought it was because he had a pregnant girlfriend whom he had been with for nine years, since they were 17. That was truly the shocker of all shocks. I could not get how any two normal human beings could survive each other for so long when they got together at such a young age. All in all I found the idea very romantic.

The first time I caught a glimpse of C.L’s intentions was the night he invited me for dessert. Granted, I knew somehow that it meant he liked me, but I was hoping that the fact of his girlfriend would just make him and me very good buddies. On this night Yo and I had a chat with him and strangely enough it was the very night we learned his real name and he learned mine. He loved it from the get go and did not even ask me to give him another one, I just liked how he said all of it. He was a really funny guy. Allysonbuck is the name that gripped him and he took my number and asked me to keep him company over some dessert. I was in the mood for sweet pleasure therefore agreed to go to his apartment. I told Yo about it and she gave me this disapproving look which I ignored. 45 minutes later I was knocking on C.L’s door.

I walked in and sat down on a very lovely couch. I was amazed that for a guy his house was so clean. But I reserved that comment to myself. After I sat down he leaned in for a hello kiss. That was totally unexpected but absolutely welcome, plus he tasted so sweet. We pretended that the kiss did not happen and we talked about movies, music, and some other stuff I cannot recall. He mentioned the movies he had and I wanted to watch ‘No Strings Attached’ and so we did. We went to his room, so perfectly made, and sat there comfortable on the bed. He put the movie on and for the first time ever, a man cuddled me while we watched a movie. It felt like a fairytale or a dream and I did not want it to end.

All this time however, I was busy telling my head that I should leave. This guy had a woman, she was pregnant and he loved her, what on earth was I doing at another woman’s house? Mind you, I was not feeling guilty, just very thoughtful of the situation. So I let the plot untangle itself without interference. We kissed again and again... I did things I had never done to any guy I had been with (not intercourse) and I enjoyed the thrill. I kissed his body, his chest, the six packs, and even went for his magic stick, not so wholly, it was more a tease than anything. Unfortunately our little rendezvous was disturbed by Yo. She felt I needed saving. Secretly it was a blessing in disguise because I was getting ahead of myself with the kissing.

This is the point that began a very confusing, no-labelled relationship. We texted every day, and we talked about everything. It felt like it was more than a hush-puppy kind of thing but at the same time we really did not want to put labels on things that were NEVER going to last. To me, it felt like it was simply going to be a physical friendship and I was all for it. See, I had just come out of a terrible relationship with the father of my baby and had recently been engaged to another man and both of these did not work out according to my plans. Thus the last thing I needed was another man who was going to lie to me or promise me the world.


THE FIRST TIME
C.L was a very dedicated hush-puppy. He came to my house and my roommates and I would chat with him for hours in between his soccer and his errands. It was absolutely a magical time. We had late night chats and there would be days he would come to my house and we would have a happy old time. Then one afternoon, he came to my house to collect his memory stick. The house was sleeping; it was a lazy Sunday afternoon. We stood in the kitchen and kissed. My whole body burned with desire but I held back, we were not alone in the house, we could not possibly allow ourselves to be lost in passion. However we could not stop kissing and caressing, deeper and softer; I finally got the strength to stop the kiss. I knew what we both wanted and I did not feel like teasing. The build up and the curiosity had been killing me for weeks.

We walked to the door, my loins aching for him to touch me ever so tenderly, my breath telling the desire so evidently. One hand on the door handle, one hand on his, I wished he would stay. I wished the house was empty, I was full of wishes. As if he was reading my thoughts, he leaned in for a kiss and leaned me against the door and we moved to the wall by the door. My thoughts were far from any penetration, I was lost in the sweet kissing and the passionate touches. It still baffles me, with my house mates sleeping in the bedrooms, the balcony curtain open, next to a door that was not locked, I pulled down his pants a little, and he took off my very small pyjama pants. With one leg lifted and wrapped around him he bent his knees and entered me.

The sweet surrender, the explosion within my senses, it was a total pleasure. He felt so good I wanted to scream but I had to contain myself, we did not want to wake up the house. He was my captain, guiding me, guiding us to the goal posts. Slowly moving to heights of greatness, panting, holding back screams, in the midst of that we heard sounds but we went on but they persisted and we pulled back. My knees almost crumbled, but I stood my ground. I was between a smile and a laugh. Then we stumbled to the couch where we sat and held each other as if nothing had happened.

A few minutes later my friend walked out of the bedroom and we just laughed, C.L and I. My friends, him and I sat there a while in the living room and had a good chat after which he had to go home.

THE FIRST NIGHT
C.L and I had a very open friendship. I had been sick since my giving birth. I could not stop bleeding, and I had been to the doctors but they could only stop it for a week and then back again to pain and discomfort. He very much understood when I told him about it. He was that kind of guy you could talk to about feminine matters. The first night I spent at his house I had not stopped with the feminine stuff which only made the kissing very intense and exceedingly arousing.

I was shy too suggest that we go ahead and do what we so eagerly wanted to do and I am very fuzzy on the details but we ended up doing it, he did not mind and I did not care. The nights that followed were equally astounding. It was like he knew me and my body, he knew how to move and match my rhythm, when to go fast and slow, he was absolutely incredible. Even the after pleasure time was great. We talked till we slept and I did get pleasure from him hugging me as if he did not want to let go. We were living a fantasy.

There are just moments when C.L has to make me blush and feel appreciated. It is in moments like these that I do wish he was not hers...alas he is and I have to accept it, which most of the time I really have. During one of our numerous online chats he wrote this to me and I just melted right into his hands...

“U know I really miss your smile, laughter, how you play with your face n lips, how you walk, how you hold me, how you look at me before and after a kiss, how harmonious u look when u sleep, the compliments so true n genuine you give, how you threaten to hit me n how you do hit me, how your face lights up when I walk through the door,,, I can go on n on.”

It is such words and this very appreciation for my existence that I have longed for, but never got. It is very true what they say, all the good men are taken or gay!


THE FIRST TEAR
Life had not always been good when I was growing up. Having experienced abuse in its diverse forms, it was amazing how together I was. Of course I had my moments when I would break down but mostly I was the picture of happiness. C.L got to see my broken down spirit and he embraced me like I had longed my mother to do the day I first told her. Well the first time I told him about my being molested was over the phone during a sleepover my friends and I had. My friends were being not so friendly and I got upset, which made me tell C.L that I was molested.

The next time he heard of it was during my exam time. I should have been studying and I had, but as night time came, my brain stopped doing academics and started recalling the bad past. I tried to hide my sadness but he saw it. I felt like disappearing and I, without intention, mentioned it to him which made him even more concerned. I brushed it off and we went to his house. He held me there in the dark, telling me it will be alright, telling me to let it all free and I did. For the first time, I cried in front of him and he just held me.

I kept wishing I was not crying; that I was over what had happened to me at 8 years old. I kept asking why it was coming up now when I thought I had dealt with it, but he just told me to cry and let the moment play its part. As I lay there in his arms I wished so many things, that my mother could have been that sympathetic, and that I would be able to tell Patrick and that I was not crying at that time. He held me through it all and after he told me not to fight it, it was part of the healing. That it may have happened a long time ago but it will still come in flash backs now and again and I should not fight the tears. I was hurting and needed release, how glad I was that he was consoling me with such ease. Then he kissed my forehead, hugged me tightly and kissed me again and we made sweet love. He held me a while as I struggled to sleep then tickled me to get rid of the tension. C.L was proving to be the man I had prayed to have, the man I was longing to have. I savoured the moment and saved the memory of it as it was the only thing to do.

We were open with each other about everything. He told me as well about his days of celibacy, forced unto him as it was, I believe it made him the great man he is today. Having almost been taken to prison for a crime he did not commit, made him a strong man in what he wants and who he is. I secretly thank the experience, for it gave me the man who is C.L. I at times just look at him and smile, he never knows why but he smiles back. The dream we were living had a few realities and they were marvellous.



RED LIGHT SPECIAL
My plan was to go to his house, take a relaxing shower and a nap then wait till he got back. When he would walk through the door I would signal that he not make a sound. Then I would go to the door and kiss him so passionately, walk him over to the couch where we would have great sex. Then and only then, after we catch our breaths, I say hi. This did not happen however, but he did make up for it. We got to his house together and he took me to the table with the T.V and had even better sex. C.L is very spontaneous like that.

Thinking now that all I had to do was take my aromatherapy bath, then head to bed, he had other plans. The bedroom door was locked and I was not allowed inside. He ran me the bath and after fiddling with the room, he joined me for a while, massaging my feet, I felt like a princess. He of course got out before I did and fiddled agai. I was instructed to stay put in my bath and turn into a prune in the process but I did not mind. The time came about 10 minutes later and I got out and dried my skin, he opened the bedroom door and it was magic!

The bed was gone, but he had made us a king size one with blankets, all around the king size were lit candles and they made the room look so beautiful. He was going to massage my body now, with baby oil. It was sensual, slow, satisfying and extremely relaxing. C.L was just the perfect prince. It was no surprise that we did not want to get out of bed in the morning, but we did, we had things to take care of. The week proceeded in this manner of pampering. Even on his birthday he was making me feel great!

We had by Wednesday relocated to my dorm room on campus. It was something I had wanted and he loved it. In my very small single bed, we laughed and shared even more memories and thanked each other for being there for one another. We would lie there in the dark and talk about everything, and that was the beauty of the relationship we had. We could say practically anything with each other and I was praying that the man who would have my heart after C.L would do me the same great honour.


THE LAST WEEK
In true romance, the last week we could thoroughly be free to be with each other was also a week when his birthday was on. Least to say, he made every minute marvellous. The day I came in from home he got off work early and we went and did a little bit of shopping as I was exceptionally tired. C.L had planned to pamper me but he could not carry out his plans as my body was not cooperating. Instead we had dinner and headed to his house. I had earlier told him about my plans for when we saw each other again. We had spent the week prior to my return in utter silence; no texting, no calls and no email for a whole week. It was something of a game as we had never spent a day without talking since we had started chatting over the phone.

The morning he left for home, I was sad. I had wanted to hug him when he left but I had forgotten, I was busy worrying about what it meant for him to be going home. He was getting his family, and this moment was always on the horizon but I could not help but wish it was just a little further away. He left, I went back to bed and it took me an hour to fall asleep. When I woke I had for a split second forgot he was not beside me. My heart could have cried but my pride and understanding did not allow. My heart began missing all the moments shared between us.


THOSE MISS YOU NIGHTS
‘I Just miss you holding me...and while we're talking you tickle me just so you can hear me laugh...I hate being tickled but I love it when you make me laugh.’ These are the words I was left with after 3months of living in a dream with C.L. He was never mine to keep and now my borrowed treasure had to return home. Knowing the day would come did not prepare me for its coming. It was a total adjustment to the new life we had to be a part of. He was not there with me each night, we did not talk as we did before, but we tried it as best as we could. It was difficult, and as I write now it is difficult not to take my phone and text him. He is probably sleeping as it is after midnight.

I think of him and the words he would say to me, the serious talks we would have, the flirty messages, the silly one too. I think it and I miss it, but I signed up for a dream with an expiration date. Alas, that is my reality. I do not regret it because I grew up because of this relationship. I learned that a woman does not have to cry when with a man, that truth is the fuel that keeps the flame alive and that compromising oneself for another is never the answer. I thank him for this, for opening my eyes to a world where I did not cry but was constantly happy. For giving me a friend for a lifetime. He was a gift in disguise. Though what we did was wrong, from it was born a greater woman that is I at this time.