The noise of the running water from the bathroom stopped, and because of that Aliyah felt anxiety creep into her skin. Although the split air conditioner was soothing the room with gentle breeze, she began to sweat, and the silk crimson nightie she had on began to stick to her body.
She sat straight on the bed and clasped her hands on her knees.
“Sweetheart,” Shakir said as he closed the bathroom door. “I love how the dress cling to your body.”
Aliyah raised her head and blushed as Shakir slowly untied his towel which he wore as a loin cloth. He sat at the foot of the king-size bed, feeling the texture of the bed sheet and smiling beside himself. He remembered how three weeks ago Aliyah had insisted that they buy the brown sheet even though it was pricier than the ones he had thought to be better.
“Why are you smiling?” Aliyah asked in a gentle voice, now feeling comfortable.
“It’s just how elegant your taste is.” Shakir winked as he put on a white jalabia. “You know, now I realize why you insisted on this bed sheet. It’s nice actually.”
“Shebi I told you. We women know better in these things. You men just like to dey do shakara.” Aliyah began to laugh, and Shakir found her laugh to be sexy.
“Aliyah,” Shakir paused, then moved close to her on the bed, their backs touching the head furniture. “I love you, baby. Thank you for marrying me.”
They got up and stood on the red rug as he led her in one unit prayer of two standings.
It was the night of their marriage, and they had been looking forward to it for a year now. Shakir had reserved his strength for this moment by not over working himself during the entire marriage ceremony which took place earlier that day. All he wanted was to finally be able to spend time with his wife so that they may both have an unforgettable night. And they would, but not exactly in a conventional way. “Now, what do you say we try this bed sheet out?” Shakir asked, his lips pressing on Aliyah’s neck.
Aliyah’s heart began to pound, and she closed her eyes furtively, imagining how the night would go. She wanted to say no, not yet, but she couldn’t. She heard the word bismillah come out of Shakir’s mouth, and before she got the chance to say her own bismillah, Shakir’s lips were already pushing against hers. Her lips cleaved and the kissing started at first as lips gently rubbing, then it became faster, and the tongues eventually got involved. Shakir’s muscular arms enveloped Aliyah’s petite frame inside his, and Aliyah’s cologne filtered into his nostrils. Aliyah was just beginning to feel at ease with the closeness of Shakir’s body, his breaths and his gasps made her feel on the edge of arousal when he withdrew from her and started to take off his jalabia.
At first, Aliyah did not realize what was around the corner. She once again shut her eyes, and then she began to feel a push against her pelvis. She at first tried to be calm, but the pang kept escalating, and Shakir did not seem to notice any discomfort from her part, especially now that his breathing had taken pace.
Stop, Shakir. Stop. The voice, her own, came as a soft echo in her head as she felt Shakir’s hands pinned down her arms firmly on the bed.
Even Aliyah did not know when and how the voice came out. It was loud, and it did what it was expected to do. Shakir halt the thrusting effort and asked what was wrong. His body was tepid and his eyes were bulging. Her eyes were precipitating and a hot sensational flash was grasping her head. She told him that she was experiencing pain, but Shakir said it was normal and he would try to make it less hurtful.
But as soon as Aliyah’s head landed on the pillow and Shakir’s dark study hands set apart her brown slender thighs, the pang returned. She had thought this time would be better, but she was wrong. Shakir was trying to get through as fast as possible, hoping this would make it easy, but in contrast, it made the pain incessant and more severe on Aliyah. She began to inhale and exhale heavily, turning her head left and right. She hoped the whole ordeal would end quickly but it was not. Then she felt it, it was strong, piercing, and excruciating. Her head throbbed and her whole body ached. She pushed Shakir. But he rounded his arms around her neck and recommenced.
The session began again, but when she couldn’t endure the pain anymore, to free herself, she threw a heavy punch that landed on Shakir’s lips. The blow hit Shakir’s lips with adept precision, and for a moment, time froze for the young couple.
Blood began to drip from the busted lips, and in horror, Shakir got off her and realized he was bleeding profusely and his lips had started to swell. He dashed to the bathroom and ran water over his lips. After splashing water on his face, he returned to the room, took a pillow and headed for the living room. Aliyah was still lying on the bed, her face damp from tears, and the pillow tightly cuddled in between her hands.
Fajr came and Shakir went to mosque to pray. He stayed after the prayer till sun had risen before he returned home. Aliyah had prepared oatmeal, and akara balls were neatly set inside a porcelain bowl on the dining table. When she heard the sound of the living room door opening, she quickly rubbed her wet hand on the night gown she had on, and walked to the dining area. “Sweetheart your breakfast is ready… come and eat.”
Although she spoke those words with so much sweetness and enthusiasm, Shakir did not bat an eye. He just walked past her instead and did not say a word in response. Rainfall descended on Aliya’s countenance.
To be continued tomorrow… God willing.