Diary of a Desperate Housewife
I couldn’t sleep very well last night. Yes, it was all about Omar. Andrew has been quite withdrawn , for which I have been grateful. There is nothing worse than pity sex. I just can’t handle being the one doing it. I know Andrew and I have had our problems but with the death of Mama A, it really shook him and I don’t think I’d want to cuddle up to him, sexually. a loving ‘I’m here for you’ cuddle, yes but nothing more.
Anyway I was showered and dressed, filling up my coffee cup when Andrew slithers into the kitchen. He looked so cute I felt a little twinge down below. No!, Not today Amy. I finished fastening the lid of my cup and kissed his forehead as you would a sick child and rushed out the door. I couldn’t handle any quips, questions or hugs. Nope. It was Monday and I had to go and sort out Omar.
So here we were again. I was sitting right in front of Omar and I could do was utter stupid rubbish. He offered to take me to lunch. I wanted to say no but beore I could utter a word my secretary came in and said my 12 o’clock client had cancelled, so there it was, fate dealing me another blow.
So, there we were sitting in the restaurant of Five Seasons and he was asking why I haven’t returned any of his calls. calls? Really?
I kept starring into space and I really didn’t know when his hand brushed against mine. I felt a very large rush of blood to all my feminine parts. Oh My God! I wanted this man so badly.
I tured over to see if I had been dreaming. Nope! It was no dream, I wa laying next to Omar!
I cant remember all the details but it was over the last bottle of Chardonnay that he said I should come upstairs and lay down to wear off the alcohol. I dizzily agreed. We got into the lift and I was giggly and very tipsy. Somehow I fell into his arms. He steaded me and Bam De JaVu! We were back in the Bahamas. I was kissing and being kissed. his hand was roughly yanking up my skirt and I didn’t bother to stop him or pull away. This time I gave him my all.
His hand was up my skirt and tugging at my panties, I could feel his hand touching my private. I let out a shriek but he didn’t stop. I was surpised no one came in, no stops for what seemed like eternity.When the lift finally stopped, I think I had cum at least twice. We fell into the penthouse suite, and there, right there, on the floor, he ravished me.
His manhood was pounding againt me. He rammed so hard I thought he would cut me open. I gyrated and grinded like a sex starved teenager. He lifted me up like a ragdoll and pushed me against the nearby table and sucked the life out of me. There was pain and joy, all in one. I screamed and cried. I cried and shuddered as this manboy, made love to me like never before. He kissed and licked every part of my body as if I were a Queen and he my slave.
From my toes to my very taut nipples. He kissed and sucked. He opened my legs and pushed his tongue so far into me I wet myself. I just couldn’t stop and neither did he. He just carried on pocking his tongue harder and harder against my clit! Oh someone save me!
His head rose and he spun me over and took me from behind! I screamed in escasty. I was in 12th heaven. He turned me back and began to lift me up towards the bed where he rammed me in midair before pushing himself further into me till we both exploded. He screamed out my name, I responded by pulling out and licking, sucking, every drop of his white nectar till I collapsed.
I’m grinning like a Cheshire cat. Andrew keeps asking if I’m ok. Really? Hun I’m buzzing. I got in and when for a shower. I’d had one earlier but Omar had decided he wanted to take one with me and we started again. This time it was slower. more gentle, more passionate. I couldn’t believe it could be better but it was. I came again and again until I was parched. I had to hurry up and get dressed before I stayed the night.
After my shower at home, Andrew came in with his ‘I want you eyes’. I gave him a hug which gave him a hard on. Not tonight Hun, I thought. Oh why not I thought again. I was so randy after Omar I felt I could go on all night., so I encouraged him. I gave him a blow job like never before. He was done in 10. He brought out my vibrator to finish me off, for which I was quite pleased. woman can only have so much pleasure. Right?
Good night diary. Sweet dreams!
Diary of a desperate housewife was written for radio in 1997 but never progressed any further. All similarities to persons living or dead are purely coincidental and are not based on anyone known, living or dead. Amy wrote the script based on her memoirs and has sold all rights to African Observer. No part can be copied or published without the prior consent of the Editors or Publishers.
Editor in Chief.