Free to be...
All of me tingled at the very idea of it.
I was daring the forbidden and my flesh clenched at the prospect but nothing would hold me back. I needed to do this for me, myself and I. Truly, I felt like I am persuaded great, great, grandmother Eve must have felt just before she bit into the apple first time- yearning, inquisitive, brave, daring, about-to -be -damned but couldn't be bothered about consequences.
It was a high nothing could compare to! Huh, nothing came close.
"Unbelievable that you are the one contemplating doing this", the vestige of a saner me reasoned.
The long restrained imp laughed it shut as I told myself I was a grown woman who could do whatever pleases her and whenever without having to seek absolution from some authority figure somewhere. My conscience was loving this too; in sync with my turgid flesh.
"Ah! This flesh craves this adventure, baby."
My throat muscles constrict into a spasm at the very thought of it. I had manicured, buffed and painted my nails in anticipation of tearing into tendons, sinews and skin. The tips of my fingers tingled as my imagination ran riot at the prospect. Ah, ah, ah! my inner important moaned, practically writhing in repressed passion. My demeanour was prim and proper, in keeping with status. Beneath the service table, though, my legs had to be pressed together to stop them breaking into "Shoki" of their own volition.
I had been told no self respecting woman visits this joint unaccompanied. Well, I am self respecting enough to know that some experiences are best savoured alone-my senses can tell their tales better without besties and selfies. I wasn't playing country. On the contrary, coquetting became me like panties waiting to be yanked off by an ardent lover long kept basking. I was getting impatient to be served.
"Ah, here it comes."
The muscled torso of the waiter with his rippling six pack displayed to adventures smiled most invitingly as he bore it my way. Slowly, I rolled the tip of my tongue across my lips as he delicately laid steaming pots of Ugba and Nkwobi before me.
Saliva fairly dripped down as I tucked in, sucking the bitter sweetness and tanginess of peppers and herbs into my lipstick coated mouth.
(Nkwobi is a Nigerian delicacy that is usually ordered and enjoyed in exclusive restaurants. It is simply cooked cow foot mixed in spicy palm oil paste.)