by Fiona Zedde
Happiness fluttered in Ny’s stomach, and she grinned. “I’m not throwing anything away, just reaching for what I want.” Her smile widened. “I’m happy you noticed.”
“It’s hard not to. The whole village is talking.” A frown wrinkled Duni’s forehead. “Even my husband says you’re stepping up like you’ve never done before. And I often see you in the market with your iya. Where do you find time to help them both?” She sounded worried instead of impressed.
It was Ny’s turn to frown. “I’m being an adult. Isn’t that what you said I wasn’t before?”
“But adults also make time for their families. I know you miss being with your brothers.”
“Of course I do. But this is only temporary. Until I get—” Ny stopped, feeling herself on shaky ground.
“Get what? Get me?” Duni pulled away from her to sit farther back on the flat rock and clasp her arms around her upraised knees. “I’m not a prize you have to win, Nyandoro. Do this for yourself, not because I might chose you over my own husband.”
Ny clenched her jaw at the mention of Duni’s husband. All month while she’d been changing herself, she thought about Duni’s husband. Wondering if he was really a fool and ignoring Duni’s beauty in favor of the other wives. Or if he was pumping between her legs every night, easily getting the privilege Ny was working so hard for. As useless as those thoughts were, she couldn’t stop having them.
“I am doing this for myself,” she said. “My parents like having me around, and my baba tells me that he’s proud of what I’m doing.”
“What about your brothers? You’re practically ignoring them, but for what reason?”
“Duni, don’t pretend that when you said those things to me, you didn’t mean for me to change and become the woman you want.” Ny balanced her hands on her thighs, hoping and praying she was right. In her eyes, Duni had practically dared her to grow up. “So, tell me, am I now the woman you want?” She felt Duni close to her, the heat of her body just a touch away. Her breath smelled of a recent dinner and mint leaves. “Do you want me?”
A sigh left Duni’s lips. “I…” She drew back and took her breath, her lips, and her heat with her.
Ny straightened her spine against the disappointment. At least her father was proud of her now. At least she knew her mother better than she had before. At least—
Duni kissed her.
Ny gasped and drew in the taste of Duni into her mouth. Mint and sweetness and the press of her soft lips. Ny’s heart thudded in her chest, and her lashes fluttered with surprise. Then she realized what was happening. Duni was actually kissing her! Ny quivered and kissed back. She and Duni crashed together, mouths pressing firmly, hands grasping in heated intent. Ny tingled every place they touched.
Her head spun with the reality of what was happening, her fantasies no longer confined to her sleeping mat, but made real under moonlight with the quiet rushing of the river nearby. Emboldened, she touched even more than she ever had in dreams, her fingers slipping under the thin kanga to skate over Duni’s waist beads, her warm skin. Duni shuddered and pulled back with a moan. She licked her lips, took a moment to regain her breath. Her eyes dipped down. “This is dangerous for me.”
Yes, it would be dangerous if Duni’s husband found out. But they would be discreet, they would only touch when they were alone. They would only speak of their intimacies to each other.
“We need to be careful,” Ny said. It didn’t even cross her mind to give up what she’d just found with Duni.
“Yes.” Duni’s tongue appeared to wet her lips, and Ny stopped thinking.
She leaned in again to press a kiss back to Duni’s mouth, entranced by the softness of it, the plump dampness like ripe fruit. The faint taste of oil and honey berries lingered on those soft lips. Had Duni worn the oil for her?
It excited her, the thought that Duni had enticed her to the river not just to talk, but to kiss. Like this. Ny licked the enticing flavor on Duni’s mouth, the sweetness of the berries and the much more delicious taste of her mouth’s natural essence. She wa like a fruit Ny had only hoped of tasting, always hanging high on the vine and out of reach. And now, here she was, practically in Ny’s lap. She groaned and pressed closer.
Duni drew back, smiling. She curved her palm around Ny’s cheek. “Like this.”
She kissed Ny again, lips pressing as delicately as flower petals, leaving Ny slightly dizzy, a hunt in the forest that pushed her body to the very limit. The feel of her was intoxicating and weakening, strange in a way she’d never considered. She’d been interested in kissing girls before, but too nervous to try. Nervous in a way she hadn’t been about jumping from cliffs or diving into the river. Duni’s lips parted. Her tongue gently breaking the seam of Ny’s mouth. And her thoughts flew away, a flock of wild birds.
Heat pooled in her belly with each stroke of Duni’s tongue. A shiver rippled through her body. It felt dangerous, this kind of kissing, her heartbeat speeding up too fast to be safe, her breath stolen, palms wet. But she didn’t want to stop. Duni taught her everything she needed to know. That a kiss could be a greeting, an apology, an unmaking. Duni’s tongue slid against Ny’s, firm and slick. Her hands gripped her waist, sinking into soft flesh. Her thoughts were gone. Everything was only sensation. Wet agitation between her legs. A sound like pain from her throat. Or was it from Duni? Soft noises, squirming against Ny on the rock, their chests pressed together, nipples rubbing, aching. Ny pulled away with a gasp, desperately needing to breathe.
Duni’s breath puffed against her lips. “Are you all right?”
Ny shook her head. “My heart is beating in my chest. It feels like I’m going to die.”
“Die?”
“Yes. No…I can’t explain it properly. It…it feels good.” Her hands drifted down to Duni’s hips. “You feel good.” She dipped her head into the curve of Duni’s neck, smelled her, that soft place where neck met shoulder, the scent of her hair, of wood fires and honey flower oil. Ny licked her throat, and Duni shivered against her.
“I knew you would be a fast learner.”
Ny drew back. “How do you know I haven’t done this before?”
Duni laughed, trailed a hand down Ny’s bare back. “There are no secrets in this village, Nyandoro.” She flicked a thumb across Ny’s lower lip. “Besides, your touch feels too tentative for you to be anything but untouched. And I am surprised. I thought you…you would have had many offers.”
“I’ve had offers. But there’s never been anyone I wanted, no one but you.”
“You humble me.”
“Does that mean I can taste you now?” She dropped her gaze to Duni’s hips so there would be no mistaking her meaning.
Duni smothered her laughter in Ny’s shoulder. “A very fast learner. And eager too.” She lifted her head, eyes still shining with mirth. “Not here. Not tonight.”
“Then where? I…”
Was there some way she could tell Duni that she ached? Her nipples hurt, but the pain was sweet. Between her legs was slippery, and an ever deeper ache was there. She wanted to touch herself but knew it would be even better if Duni touched her. “I want to touch you, and I want you to touch me.”
“I know. Soon.” The humor vanished from her eyes. “Remember, we must be careful.”
Ny shivered at the seriousness in her voice. The lust drained from her, common sense slowly replacing it. Duni could lose everything, she realized again. Was this worth it? “Are you sure?”
Duni shook her head. “No. You don’t get to chase me then change your mind when I say yes. Now, I’m the one saying yes.” She leaned in to kiss Ny once again, her gaze flying to the path far up the river. “I have to go. They’ll miss me if I’m away much longer.” She pulled the comb from her hair. It was the same one from the first night they met by the river. “Take this and think of me.”
“I always think of you.” But she took the comb anyway and slid it into the neckline of her kanga.
With another look at the
path, Duni clambered down from the rock. In the dark, Ny could feel Duni’s gaze on her mouth, on the slope of her shoulders. “See you soon.”
Duni was quick. Bare feet slapping quietly against the hard ground, then she was gone.
On the riverbank, Ny splashed water on her face and took a moment to gather herself. By the time she stepped through the doorway of her father and mother’s hut, she was calm again, her heart was back to its normal pace. Her father was in the sitting room, smoking his pipe. He looked up at her, his sharp eyes missing nothing.
“Did your visit go well?” he asked.
Ny’s face grew hot and she looked away. She only just restrained herself from pressing her cool hands to her hot face. She didn’t bother denying she’d been at the river to meet someone. “Yes, Baba.”
“You will be careful?” He leveled a gaze on her, filled with concern and love.
“Yes, I will. I am.”
“You will be careful of what, Nyandoro?” Her mother wandered into the sitting room, the edges of her hair wet from a bath. She looked tired, like she’d had a long day too. With a low sigh, she draped herself on top of her husband, resting her head over his heart. He pressed a kiss into her palm before taking another puff from his pipe. Smoke wreathed the air above his head, trailing toward the ceiling.
“She will be careful to invest where there is a high probability of a positive return for everyone involved.” Her father glanced at her before turning his gaze once again to his wife.
“Is that right, Nyandoro? You have been investing unwisely?”
“I’m not sure about the wisdom of it, Iya. But it’s something I’d like to do.”
A delicate wrinkle settled on her mother’s brow. “All right. As your baba says, be careful.”
“Of course.” But any care she would take was balanced precariously against the lust that sparked between her and Duni on the riverbank. “It’s time for me to get some sleep.”
“Rest well.” Her father gave her a meaningful look.
She left them to clean up and find her sleeping mat. After the long day’s walk and negotiations by her father’s side, Ny’s body was tired. But her mind was not. She couldn’t stop thinking about Duni’s kisses and the way they had moved into each other on the riverbank, the sweetness that swayed between them, the way her heart beat so fast she thought she would not survive the next kiss.
But here she was. Alone on her sleeping mat, and aching. She squeezed her legs together, holding her breath as the tightening only amplified the sensation. The eucalyptus leaves and lavender blooms in her mattress rustled as she rolled over, releasing more of their scent. Ny held her breath.
When all she heard was the quiet murmur of her parents’ continuing conversation, she squeezed her thighs tightly again and again, slowly building the honeyed feeling, the slick between her thighs, her deepening breaths. Ny held herself still on the mat, only moving her internal muscles while her imagination explored what her hands had not been able to.
She thought of Duni’s mouth. The sensation of her body through their clothes, the drifting pearls of her waist beads under her fingers, the plump fruit of her bottom. A quiet gasp ghosted past Ny’s wet lips. She imagined parting Duni’s thighs to find her wet and eager, her nipples hard under her tongue… Heat crashed over Ny in an unrelenting wave, and her throat clutched from an imprisoned cry. She bit into her fist and squeezed her eyes tight as her core fluttered with release. Long moments later, her breathing slowed and she drifted into sleep.
A woman walked at Nyandoro’s side. Although she wanted to, she couldn’t look away from the woman’s feet, slender with bones as delicate as a bird’s, their beauty only enhanced by strapped sandals. The ground was dark and brown, healthy from a downpour of recent rain. Nyandoro wore a cloth that covered her from throat to ankles, a soft fabric of bright blue that was soft on her skin and swirled like butterfly wings around her bare feet.
“Do you know what you want?” The woman’s question pulled Nyandoro’s eyes from her feet, up her body, to the waist cloth that dipped with the elegant and sensual sway of her hips, naked waist, and her long collar made from thousands of different colored beads hiding her breasts from Nyandoro’s gaze. The woman had a slender neck, a narrow face, hair braided in an intricate style like a crown. She had eyes as vicious as the ocean.
“Of course I know what I want,” Nyandoro said. Once she found the woman’s eyes, she could not look away. They were roiling and white, but oddly soothing.
“Then take them.” A corner of the woman’s mouth curved up, a double-edged invitation. “Make no apologies for the things you desire.”
“If only it were that simple.”
“It is. Take what you want. Because the rest of the world will take what it wants whether or not you are ready.”
They walked through the grass of a rich and fertile field. Giraffes bounded across the earth with a joyous pounding of hooves, scattering birds from a nearby leafless tree and into the bright blue sky. The sweet salt smell of the ocean drifted on the air. A tall mountain wreathed in clouds hovered over everything, a familiar giant Nyandoro had seen on the horizon of her life since she was born but had never been this close to. It was a beauty she’d never experienced in her waking life and was sure she’d never see again. A breeze rose up and brushed sensation over Nyandoro’s sensitive skin. She shivered in the wake of it, but from pleasure, not from cold.
“What will it take from me?” She parroted the woman’s word back at her.
“Everything you’re not ready to give.” The woman’s eyes were like half-moons, narrowing with the sadness of her smile.
When Ny woke up, only remnants of the dream remained. The woman’s pretty feet. Her dagger-sharp smile. But the sensations she’d felt while in that world—unlimited freedom, curiosity about everything—lightened her every step. With her mind still on the mysterious woman of her dreams, Ny tidied her sleeping mat and shook out the thin blankets to hang outside in the sun.
Still distracted, she nearly bumped into her mother who looked ready for the day with her hair in neat braids, her oldest cloth wrapped around her waist and pinned up between her legs like the pants men and women of Arabia wore. The scent of incense clung to her. Her mother steadied her with an unfocused smile.
“Iya, I’m helping you today.”
Her mother seemed to shake herself. She touched a hand to her cheek and blinked at Ny. “I don’t have anything for you to do to today, Nyandoro.”
Her mother’s use of her whole name brought more of the dream back to her. The woman had called her that, right? Ny forced her attention back to their conversation.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “I have time today.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Go ask your baba if he needs help if you’re so desperate to be of use today.” She squeezed Ny’s shoulder and walked away.
It was only when her mother came back with her hands full of bananas and mangoes did Ny realize she was making obeisance at the altar of Yemaya. It was the fifth time she’d noticed in the last three days, and the increased attention to the shrine seemed strange. Usually her mother made her offerings only once a week.
Because she couldn’t think of what else to do, she went in search of Kizo. She found him on the steps of his new favorite bar, a cup of liquor by his side, and sitting in a ring of mostly older men playing a game with dice. He looked clean and fresh, like he’d just climbed from the river, his hair still wet. Kizo wore a new beaded bracelet around his wrist.
“Ah, is this a stranger that I see?” He squinted up at Ny like he didn’t recognize her.
“Quit playing around.” She shoved his shoulder.
Kizo made a dismissive noise and tossed his cowrie shells into the small pile already in the circle. “I’m finished,” he said.
The men only nodded and carried on as if he didn’t just forfeit the equivalent of a day’s pay for some. Kizo picked up his drink, gestured for Ny to follow, and jogged up the steps into the bar. Ny or
dered a drink for herself this time then followed him out to the rear verandah.
“So what pulled you away from Iya and Baba today? Did the house burn down?” He put his feet up on the root of a tree and sat back in the chair, looking remarkably unconcerned for someone who just asked if the family home just burned down.
“No. I decided to stop being an idiot about this whole growing up thing.”
“And since you are no longer trying to be a grown-up, the first person you came to find is me?”
“Exactly.”
Kizo’s mouth tilted in a smile. “How are you, sister?”
“Tired of being an adult.” She sighed.
“If you’d asked me, I could’ve told you there’s nothing redeeming in it. But why listen to me? I wasn’t the one you were bending over for.”
“Stop. Don’t say that.” But she could tell he’d been hurt by her absence.
Her relationship with Kizo wasn’t the same as with her other brothers. If she hurt any of the others, or vice versa, a good wrestling match or the passage of one day would put the hurt behind them. But what she had with Kizo was a stronger, more deeply rooted bond whose hurts could not be superficially bandaged. Ny swallowed the lump of self-disappointment in her throat. If she hadn’t had her head so far up her ass, or Duni’s to be more accurate, she’d have realized just how much she was hurting her brother. Ny put her drink down and grasped his arm, strong and firm, just below the elbow. “I am sorry.”
Their eyes met, and he gave her a real smile this time. “I know you are, sister.” He grasped her arm in the same place and they leaned forward to press their foreheads together.
“Do you forgive me?”
“Absolutely. But next time, I won’t make it so easy.”
“There won’t be a next time.” She didn’t want to be that stupid again.
“Good.”
They sat together, drinking in silence while the sounds of the bar floated behind them—men swearing, dice rolling in a cup, raucous laughter. The sky before them was clear and blue with only a few ribbons of clouds. A bird cawed in the distance. From even farther away, a lion roared in warning.