Authors: Allison Hobbs
Inviting her to milk him, Hoku pushed deeper and Yoyin prepared herself for the taste of his hot splashing lust.
But Hoku suddenly restrained himself. He cupped her head and slowly withdrew his glistening penis. Yoyin moaned in regret, her voluptuous lips puckering with need. He grasped beneath her armpits and pulled her up, repositioning her slender body to lie on top of him. Her breasts crushed against his chest, her mouth sought his kiss as she aligned her yearning sex with his. He ran his hand up her lean back, sending little chills over her with his touch.
At first, she slowly and sensuously rotated her hips, but soon she increased the tempo. Worked up and panting, her movement took on a thrashing motion that she was unable to restrain.
He clenched the ovals of her buttocks, containing her, holding her in place as she bucked and grinded, igniting a passion that spread like wildfire from her loins to his bulging cock. Her hips
bucked uncontrollably, the sacredness of their love blurred by her raging need. Crazy with lust, she ranted and raved. Murmuring without sensibility, she clamped a hold on his cock and worked on his length with her inner muscles, trying to cajole his dick into giving her a forceful fucking that would hurt her hot pink pussy until it was raw and flaming red.
Determined to love her with tenderness, Hoku refused to rush his sex strokes.
Even in the midst of temporary insanity, she was keenly aware that Hoku was the only man on earth who could fill her empty space. Breathing hard, she groped for his rigid manhood and directed it toward her vacant center, yearning for him to flip her over and pounce on her with sexual fury.
“Fuck me, hard. I want to feel powerful thrusts.” Her harsh voice was ragged with urgency. “Take me! Hurt me!” A growl emanated from the back of her throat. She pushed down determinedly on his hot swollen flesh.
“I love you, Yoyin. I could never hurt you.”
“Hoku, please. Hurt me.” Frantic, she pulled her hair, her eyes were wild with raw lust. She humped on his engorged manhood, swiftly bounced up and down, trying to coerce him into matching her pace, trying to force him to violently invade her wet and ready cunt.
“Never!” Hoku insisted, becoming still and refusing to participate. Lacking the discipline of his spirit, his burgeoning manhood went against his will, pulsing and thumping against her feminine walls.
“If you love me, you’ll give me what I need.” She gave a desperate whimper and thrust out her pelvis, offering her pussy and pleading for him to give her sweet pain.
“I love you. With all my heart.” His voice broke.
“Then stop torturing me.”
“Just relax, my love. Let me show you how I feel.” He pressed down on her ass cheeks until their tummies pressed together. As if by a silent command, his straining masculinity widened and increased to an impossible size, filling her up.
She moaned as his erection bulged inside her tight space. Impaled and unable to move her body, her long fingers clasped the linen sheet.
“Is it good?”
“Yes.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” she whispered, awed. “It’s big,” she gasped. “Huge. It doesn’t hurt. So good.” She tried to rotate her hips, but his strong hands held her still.
“Love is beautiful,” he told her, his dick expanding even more. “I’ll never hurt you, Yoyin.”
“But…”
“Shh. No more pain. Only pleasure. I’m going to show you how love feels.” His whispered promise was hypnotic. With slow strokes, he eased himself in and out, stretching the moist walls of her core. Yoyin wrapped her legs around his back, as he sank his aching manhood inside her depth. Her channel enveloped and clung to him, tightening around his girth.
“I want you to feel all the love that’s stored inside,” he crooned in her ear. “Put your arms around me. Hold on, love. Don’t let go.”
“Oh,” she moaned in a higher pitch as Hoku glided in and out of her warm place, delivering unhurried, loving strokes. “I love you. Always loved you. You can’t leave me.”
“I won’t leave you.”
“Promise me you’ll love me forever.”
“I’ll love you throughout eternity,” he told her as the intensity increased.
Yoyin was shocked by her choice of words. She’d never spoken anything even remotely close to the romantic gibberish spilling from her lips.
With her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, Yoyin allowed him to calm her into a soft, unbridled passion. She followed his lead, mimicked his slow and passionate thrusts, and glided with him at his pace until a demanding surge of lust shot through her. As he started an onslaught of sensual, slow, and deep penetration, she was skewered by his bronzed manhood. She moaned and bit down on her bottom lip. Hoku’s lovemaking gave her immeasurable pleasure. He satisfied her in every conceivable way.
She cried out as hot and unexpected spasms tore through her at that blinding moment of release. His dick strokes continued. Deliberate, torturous, and unrelenting, his hard cock insisted that she come for him over and over until finally he joined her with his own thundering orgasm.
In the aftermath of great sex, enveloped in Hoku’s arms, Yoyin lay with her head resting on his chest. He stroked her hair. “Confide in me. Tell me about your great pain.”
Yoyin inhaled sharply and then slowly exhaled. “I lost my sister, Amelia,” she began softly. “I blamed myself. Since her death, I’ve gone from cutting myself to unimaginable self-cruelty, trying to refocus.”
“What do you mean?” Hoku’s ministrations moved to her long
neck. As he massaged her, his fingers encouraged her to speak her heart.
Yoyin sighed. “Being able to focus on physical pain distracts me. It’s more tolerable than emotional anguish.”
“Your suffering is over,” he said firmly.
Yoyin knit her brows together, considering his words. She wanted to believe him. Her thoughts strayed to the disquieting dream about her sister. “My sister came to me in a dream last night. She helped me,” Yoyin whispered. “In the dream, Amelia carried me to safety.” Yoyin sighed and shook her head. “In real life, I did the opposite. She needed me, but I did nothing to save her life. I stood by and let her die.”
“What happened?”
“We…my sister…” Her voice broke. Summoning the courage to tell the horror of her past, she cleared her throat. “My sister and I were on vacation in northern Ghana. We were visiting our father’s people,” Yoyin began. “My mother is white and from an extremely wealthy family. She inherited an immense fortune.” She paused for a moment. “I’m next in line.”
Hoku nodded.
“Though my parents were from different cultures, they fell in love. My father was a poor young man from Africa…Ghana. He became a football player, or soccer player as the Americans say. That’s how he met my mother. He’s considered an icon today.” Yoyin gave a wistful smile. “I’ve seen my father on television. His image is plastered on numerous products that he endorses, but I haven’t set eyes on him in person since I was a young child.”
“Why not?”
“My mother blames him for Amelia’s death. She stripped him of his custodial right and forbade him any visitation with me. It wasn’t his fault, but the courts agreed with my mum.”
“I see.”
Yoyin ran a hand through her hair. “Before the trip, my sister and I were never introduced to my father’s side of the family. We’d never visited Africa. He wanted that very badly, and we—Amelia and I—were eager for the adventure.”
“They need to know their heritage,” Yoyin’s father insisted.
“Why can’t they stay in the city in an air-conditioned hotel? The girls aren’t sturdy enough for rural life. All those bugs and that stifling heat will traumatize them for life.” Worriedly, her mother’s eyes darted around the room.
Her father laughed. “I grew up there, and it was good enough for me. Two weeks in the Motherland will give my daughters a taste of their African heritage.”
“Please, Mum!” Yoyin and her sister both squealed.
Yoyin shook her head, shaking away the horrific images before they appeared in her mind. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s too horrible.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“You don’t have to speak.” Hoku reached for the pitcher beside the bed. He poured a cup for himself and Yoyin. “Drink, my love,” he said and then turned the cup to his lips.
Thinking the cup contained water, she took a generous sip. Startled by the tart taste, a puzzled look flashed in her eyes.
“The drink will put you in a relaxed state. The chef’s assistant prepared the elixir.”
“Louis?”
“Yes, his gifts exceed his culinary skills. He’s also a respected shaman.”
Awed and somewhat ashamed, Yoyin lowered her head. Despite her obnoxious behavior, Louis had treated her with tremendous kindness.
“Trust me, my love. Drink,” Hoku persuaded.
She drank the sharp-tasting liquid, emptying her cup. In an instant, Yoyin felt a woozy sensation. Somewhat dazed and a little frightened, she reached for Hoku.
“Lie down with me.” Circling his arms around her, he eased her head on his broad chest. “Close your eyes. Speak to me with your mind.”
“I don’t know how…”
“I’ll help you.” Hoku began a soft chant. The vibration of his voice guided her into an altered state, allowing her to revisit her father’s village. Her spirit lifted from her body, spiraling backward in time. She observed herself seated inside a hot, uncomfortable clinic.
She saw herself fidgeting and frowning. She was sitting on a hard bench next to her stone-faced auntie. The sight of her stern auntie made her recoil in terror. The next second, she heard Amelia screaming. Something was terribly wrong. Both sisters abhorred physical exams that required immunizations, but neither girl ever screamed with the volume and intensity that Amelia did.
Repeatedly, Yoyin beseeched her auntie to go look in on Amelia, to peek inside the unsophisticated cubicle serving as the doctor’s office. Growing more concerned, Yoyin stood up and yelled, “Stop! Amelia had a physical before we left England. We both did. Our inoculations are up to date. My mum said so!”
But her auntie scowled and yanked her down to her seat. “England is not Africa,” her auntie scoffed. “Your father has forgotten the ways of Africa. He’s raising you as Europeans. It’s my duty as your auntie to make sure that you and your sister know who you are. You’ll return to England as proper African girls.”
When her sister stopped screaming, a chilling fear washed over Yoyin. She tried to wrench her arm from her auntie’s grip.
“Stop acting like a baby. Behave yourself. Sit still and wait for
the doctor to call your number,” her auntie chastised, clenching her arm. Her auntie’s fingernails dug angrily into Yoyin’s tender flesh.
Tears spilled. “I want to see Amelia. Something’s wrong. We have to help her!” Yoyin looked around at the other adults who were accompanied by innocent-faced, little black girls. Numerous pairs of dark eyes hardened and then glanced away from the obstinate child.
The silence on the other side of the cubicle frightened her even more than Amelia’s screams. Propelled by fear, she became much like a ferocious animal, scratching and growling at her auntie, trying to break her painful grasp.
“Amelia!” Yoyin shrieked and found the strength to yank her arm free. She raced to the quiet cubicle and ripped back the curtain. Horrified, she observed an elderly man with wrinkled, black leathery skin standing over Amelia’s still body and reciting mumbo jumbo. Yoyin’s seven-year-old ears realized that this was no ordinary doctor. His medical tools were blood-encrusted and crude implements—torture devices that had been used on her helpless sister.
Frozen with fear, Yoyin’s eyes shot to the blood that soaked through the white sheet covering Amelia. The blood stain grew wider and was located at the apex of her thighs. Amelia was mutilated. Her genitalia had been cut out and disposed inside a rusted metal bowl. And this was done at the request of her auntie who believed that she was helping Amelia change into a proud and clean young African woman.
Against her mother’s better judgment, Yoyin and her sister had traveled to their father’s country. Her mother, having never heard of the centuries-old custom of female genital mutilation,
thought mosquitoes and tainted drinking water would be her privileged daughters’ greatest dangers.
The cruel practice was rampant and was conducted openly. The screaming girls were looked upon with the indifference of a child yelling while being given an inoculation.
The man with the crude blade and Yoyin’s auntie considered Amelia’s demise as an unfortunate accident. Yoyin was still expected to take her turn. It was their custom. But she broke free from her auntie and ran from the clinic. Yoyin ran and ran, leaving her sister, cold, alone, and mutilated on the table of a witch doctor.
Under the intoxicating influence of the elixir Hoku had given her, she traveled ahead in time and sadly watched her father being banished from the family mansion, witnessed her mother grieving for Amelia, and observed her mother’s eyes, perpetually swollen from endless crying and drunken binges. She saw the irrational indulgences that her mother lavished upon her surviving daughter, Yoyin. She saw her mother turning a blind eye to her bad behavior, even ignoring the self-inflicted cuts on Yoyin’s arms and legs and the reports of her daughter engaging in brutal sex.
Still, the pain was constant and unrelenting. She’d failed her sister and could not forgive herself.
Yoyin’s eyes popped open.
“I heard your thoughts. Saw the images of your past.”
Emotionally shaken, she edged closer to Hoku. “How?” She shot a nervous glance at their empty cups. She shook her head, her bewildered eyes traveled back to Hoku’s face.
“Yes, the elixir helped me see. I could also see fragments of the dream you had of your sister.”
She’d had the dream in bed with Kina. Yoyin felt a stab of guilt as if she’d been unfaithful to Hoku. She pushed the thought away.
“Spiritual lovemaking is healing, particularly after a powerful awakening,” Hoku said as if he’d once again read Yoyin’s mind. “The dream of your sister was part of your awakening. Your sister was trying to assist with your healing, to persuade you to let go of your painful past and to run toward happiness.”