This is the third instalment about Strathmore York Fynn.
I got home after a truly gruelling day as IT Support Technician at CAPITA SA to the delicious aroma of food cooking in my tiny kitchen. Living in a flat has its advantages, such as cleaning it, as it hardly takes any time at all, but there are more downsides than ups. Take, for example, how cramped everything is. For somebody who likes open spaces, the flat was a true challenge of my patience. It was all I could afford at present though, so I had to close my eyes to the irks and embrace the perks.
I sighed gratefully as I kicked off my shoes and stripped naked. I love the freedom of walking around indoors in the nude in all seasons. I guess I’m just a natural nudist. However, I’m not a slovenly guy, hence I didn’t scatter my clothes all over the apartment. Those who know me often rib me about my touch of OCD, so you can imagine how having clothes strewn all over the flat would have set me off.
As I stripped naked, I placed each item of clothing in a neat pile on my super soft couch which I love to death. That beige couch is my second bed that has taken me on a million, blissful hour-long naps. It now beckoned most invitingly; I could already anticipate the sensation of sinking butt naked into its plush, comfy, zero angular, enfolding embrace, but I resisted the siren’s pull.
“Ah, ah,” I said aloud, “not just yet, honey. Daddy needs a shower first.” So saying, I walked over to my bedroom, as it had an en-suite bathroom. I was intercepted by the chef who was cooking up a tornado of deliciousness. She was my current live-in girlfriend, Khanyisa.
Now let me tell you about this goddess of gorgeousness. We had met about five months ago; after having dated for a month, I had invited her to move in with me. It had just seemed like such a logical suggestion, seeing that she had been sleeping over most nights anyway.
Khanyisa was a pole dancer at Stilettos, a fancy strip club situated in Burg Street, Cape Town. She was most definitely not your typical slim, sleek and lithe pole dancer. She was a voluptuously large beauty with curves in all the right places, and meat to grab on to. She sported a prominent burlesque tattoo on one of her thunder thighs, attracting tattooed me even more than usual to her. She was taller than me, seeing that I only reach as far as the top part of a small car door, but I love tall, leggy ladies. It was lust at first sight. I could hardly believe it when she seemed just as into me as I was fascinated by her.
That first night when I had met her had affected me so intensely that I had confided an embarrassing secret to her after a passionate, wild lovemaking session. Both of us were satiated and drowsy, each pulling leisurely on a cigarette we shared. Abruptly, with no real idea of what I was about to divulge to Khanyisa, I had said, “When I was five years old, I measured my dick with a wood ruler. The irony was totally lost on me.”
Khanyisa had looked at me with those hypnotic green eyes of hers before she had started to giggle. The giggle had soon turned into a gurgle, then a snort or two and inevitably, into raucous laughter. The laughter was too infectious not to join in.
“A wooden ruler?” she had said when she could breathe during the attack of hilarity. “At five?” she had asked in disbelief, which had set both of us off like comic characters. Her mirth had also had the inexplicable effect of arousing me, and both of us were at it like bunnies again.
Afterwards, Khanyisa had gently stroked my thigh and had said, “Babe, I’m most satisfied with your remarkable woody. I think it’s just the right size for ultimate pleasure.” Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever loved a woman more than in that glorious moment.
“Strath!” Khanyisa now said and looked at my naked body with obvious appreciation and unmistaken desire. She was a tigress in bed, and my back bore the claw marks to prove it. “Dinner will be ready by the time you finish your shower,” she announced before kissing me lingeringly, also simultaneously fondling me roughly. She knew it drove my libido into overdrive. Then she pushed me away from her and said, “You stink. Go wash off that sweat. After your shower, I have a surprise for you,” she announced as she disappeared back into the kitchen.
“Bloody tease,” I grinned and went to shower, all the while burning with cat-like curiosity about her ‘surprise’ for me. After my shower, which had done nothing to cool my craving for Khanyisa’s body, I donned a light robe for dinner. It was a maroon silk gown that Khanyisa had given me on our three-month anniversary. As I sat down at the tiny kitchen table, Khanyisa said, “Close your eyes and hold out your hands, Strath.”
“What?” I said like a simpleton.
“Go on, do it,” Khanyisa demanded. She could be very dominant on occasion, so I obliged. I closed my eyes, but then opened one to peek at what Khanyisa was doing.
“Strathmore York Fynn,” Khanyisa said in a tone that brooked no argument. Whenever she used my full name in that belligerent tone, I knew I had better pay attention. “No peeking, buster!” she instructed and slapped me lightly on a thigh. It sent fingers of fire racing down my groin.
“Fine, fine,” I said, “but just don’t put any weird shit like a spider or a cockroach in my hands, okay?” I feared those creepy crawlies as if they were death incarnate.
“I promise, babe. Just close your eyes, dude,” she said again. This time I did as told. I squished my eyes tightly closed as I extended both hands held palms up to receive whatever it was Khanyisa was about to give me.
When I felt the touch of cardboard, I quickly opened my eyes to find a small square Takealot box sitting on my palms. The box had already been opened, but the lids were pushed down now, presumably so that I wouldn’t immediately see what the box contained. I still feared it might have some devilish bug hiding in it to scare the soul out of me.
Gingerly, I opened the flaps. Resting on the bottom of the box was a slim, elongated tube. It had a wide white top part that narrowed to a blue end. Just before the blue part began, there was a small window in the white section of the tube. Inside the window I could clearly see two vertical red lines. My day had just worsened a thousand times.
With a crestfallen face and deep disappointment in my voice, I said, “How can you do this to me? You know I’m leaving on my trip tomorrow night, and you show me this now? It’s not funny, Khanyi. You know Gran’s quite ill and I have to go see her,” I went on at length, my frustration increasing with every passing second.
“What do you think that is?” Khanyisa asked me stupidly.
“Babe, this is not funny at all!” I responded. “I can’t cancel my trip. Gran is expecting me. I can’t believe this,” I ended lamely.
My emotions were in turmoil and my heart was near to bursting. I wanted to lash out at something, but at the same time I also felt impotent to do anything. The law was quite clear on these things; I knew I would have no choice but to postpone my trip for ten days at the very least. It could easily extend to fourteen.
I couldn’t understand why Khanyisa was giggling throughout my exchange with her. While I was deadly serious and discernibly perturbed, she was finding my reaction profoundly hilarious. She kept asking me while I was speaking to her what I thought the tube was.
Finally, to shut her up after she had asked for the sixth time, “What do you think that is?”, I said in a forlorn, disenchanted voice filled with remorse, “It’s a COVID test. And you’ve tested positive. Isn’t it?”
Image: www.depositphotos.com
