ANGELA

Source: pixabay

As I listened to the playlist on my neighbor mini-disk this morning, my mind flashes back to the 1990s. I was only six then but I could remember vividly what happened then.

I was dancing to one of Lionel Richie's songs "Hello" and Angela was sitting close to the wooden window of my mum's kitchen. I stretch my tiny little hands towards her and without saying a word, she took my hands as I led her musically around the courtyard of my father's compound. I place my hands on her waist helping her up and down as we breathe the legend Richie.

Gone were those days when we knew nothing except promises. I remember telling her that I would marry her amidst our tender age. I remember also how she kiss my lips and it felt like sunrise. Our lips could only do the talking. our hands just stood there aimlessly as our eyes, minds, hearts, and lips passes those endless messages.

As time passes on, Angela grew into a beauty . This development met a great deal to me but I was also bothered. My jealous possessive mind thinks that she wouldn't be mine any longer. Although she never showed these signs, I thought it obvious that she would do so in a near future. I was already sixteen now and it's going to be millennium soon so I thought it would be nice I take this affection to a new level.
Angela is fair....kinda of the Fulani queer kind of beauty. She need not comb her hair. Her eyes are charming. Even at that age(fifteen), she got everything a lady could ever dreamed of . Many at times, she would tease me with those luring hands of her as she moves them down my pelvis but it never happened...we were yet to have it, sex.

I thought sex would hurt her. I never wanted her to groan in any pain, this I perfectly explained to Jeremy, the only male friend from my block.