On this Mountain I Will Build My Rock

Wet flesh between my thighs. Burning desires. You see how this woman makes me think in poetry, me a regular type cliche construction company accountant, very good with numbers on any given day but these days it’s words inflamed with my sexual desire for this one woman that fill my head. 

I met her in Church, her hands and beautiful thick voice lifted in worship pulling the congregation into the praise she was leading. Everytime she screamed Jesussss with melody into the mic I responded with YES. Lord forgive me but in that moment I wished I was Jesus, she would have had to say no more. Every one present would have received a baptism of something in response that’s for sure. Lord forgive me. 

My sister would have been so disgusted if only she could hear my thoughts, instead she gave me a side hug, pulled me closer and squeezed my shoulders several times as we sat side by side in church. When I asked her why later, she said she had never seen me so taken by emotion in the house of God as she did that day and so she felt proud of me for allowing myself to be touched and moved by his grace. If only she knew what really touched and moved me. Anyway I played along for the sake of our friendship and especially because that Sunday was special. It was my sister’s wedding anniversary, a day of joy indeed. Ordinarily I would have told her as plainly and gently as possible that all I could think of in church as I watched that angel of a woman command the mic in her hands with her voice was how much I wanted her to fuck me and how much I needed her to pour out all of that energy she seemed to exert very well over the congregation into me. I would accept deliverance from her any time of the day, anywhere. But I held my tongue in pretense because as I said, it was a day of celebration for my sister.

“What do you think about going on a date with Jay’s brother sis, you know he’s coming into town to celebrate with us today right? And he’s very willing and rich and handsome and gentle, sis. He’s everything you could ever dream of in a man! Think about it”, my darling sister is always trying to hook me up with any available man.

Whether single or married, that was no longer important to her as long as he was available, that’s how desperate she is for my marriage. Jay is my sister’s husband, my in-law I suppose and his brother is a known polyamorist and I am not a known one. Of course the thought of it would give my sister a heart attack but I am also a certified polyamorist, just not with men.

“Chichi, let’s focus on your day right now, it’s not easy to have been married for fifteen years without problems….look at you!, I have a gift for you but I will give it to you when we get home if you stop talking about this man and all the others for now”, my infertile attempt at putting an end to an endless trail of conversations about my marriage.

I saw her again that week, this time at my office. God is good? All the time and all the time? God is good, indeed. How else would this lady have shown up at my office this week?. 

“God bless you sister Diora, I did not realize you were the accountant of this big company when they sent me to pick the cheque, I saw you in church last week but we did not get the chance to be acquainted…”

“How about a date….or lunch I mean, sorry, do you mind?”

“Not at all, I would like that very much and I’m available today if you like…”

She was available for lunch, and then dinner, and then a sleepover, making out, marathon sex, orgasms, more orgasms and of course Wednesday bible studies together. We could not get enough of each other. Chichi, my sister has been so proud of me for not missing a single Church service for three months straight and I intend to keep her proud. If I have to fall over and break a couple of chairs or more to keep my attendance going, I will do it. Anything, to keep standing on this solid rock of new found love. 

Amen.

Sloane Angelou is a storyteller & writer of West African origin; passionate about learning of human existence by interrogating human experiences. They exist in liminal spaces.

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