Chioma’s basket of cassava was at the foot of the river, set away from the reach of water. She turned right and left to pick a peeking eye. She waded into the water, gingerly up to her thighs as she plucked her girdle down her hips exposing the shiny pearls on her laps. The fresh warm smell of her skin filled the air. The waters were lambent through her skin with her; with her deft fingers she loosed her hair and deepened herself in the water. Splash, Splash, she stroked backward as the tide flattered her breast erect, they were ripe with joy, flashing the well structured tiny nipples.
Her fair skin, her red coral tattoo, the soothing flow of her limbs wrapped my attention as I hid behind the reeds, with my hands protecting my royal staff from protruding its ugly head.
The golden sand produced iridescence on her wet neat feet, allowing the unguent flow of her limbs as she strode to land. Just then, I noticed beads of scale skin massage my toes. “Agwo, Agwo!” I screamed.
By Ekene Micheal Ngoka
Ekene is a dashing young poet and song writer. He enjoys making new friends.
Follow on Instagram @craxymikey