She turned the engine off and the rattling car shut up. It was raining profusely when we came to a halt in front of my house. Madonna insisted that I should have listened to her before I fired her. but the impulsive anger came out of my heart like a reflex. I did not hesitate in the moment. But there was something luring in the back of my mind ever since I had announced Madonna's dismissal.
We hadn't had a talk ever since the afternoon. So it was a surprise when she offered me to home. But now since the car was at a halt, I observed her a little carefully. She had her hands on the driving wheel. They were trembling. Her teeth we also rattling from the cold. I resisted myself from doing anything and got out of the car. As I shut the door behind me Madonna fired her car back up and tried to drive away. The similar fear came back rushing in my brain and I pounced like a puma to stop her from driving away. My breath had fastened. My heart rate had suddenly spiked.
Madonna rolled down her window and stuck her head to ask me what was going on. I simply walked to her side, took out the keys and signaled her to get inside. When she thought she had not change of escape, she begrudgingly accepted.
We entered my room and immediately got changed. We used separate rooms. It was easy for Madonna since she had left some of her clothes over at my place. After having a fresh shower, we marched to the kitchen. I put on an apron to protect my orange tracksuit from oils. Madonna walked to the refrigerator and stood by it, eying me as I prepared some soup.
I asked," Hey, how are you doing?" to break the ice. She started rubbing her hands together while her body language changed. She wasn't being the confident self she always portrayed to be. Instead, I thought I saw someone who was weak, terrified, confused and scared.
She didn't reply for a long time before nodding and giving me a light smile.
We were grown women. It should not be this difficult to talk out our issues. Instead, we behaved like two high school girls who found out they loved each other.
Loved?
Is that how I felt about Madonna?
The soup was cooked, and we went to the dining room for our dinner. The dining room was the biggest room in my house. It was a round surface which had finest pinewood flooring with a granite table sitting in the middle of the room. six chairs surrounded the table, and a glass window which was the wall's length. Every morning, I'd open my curtains in the dining room and glance at the landscape of Nepal's busy streets. But today, it was nothing but darkness outside.
It was in the middle of our meal when I heard a loud clank from the opposite side of the table. Madonna had slammed the silver spoon in the granite table and let it go. By the time I realized what had happened, the spoon was on the other side of the floor.
I looked at her bowed head and her shivering body. In an instant, I knew it was not cold that was bothering her. it was the loss of her job.
She looked up and there were tears in her eye. "Blessing, this was not how it was supposed to be!"
I continued to sip my soup as I replied," Madonna, nothing was supposed to happen. But for every action, there is a reaction. You have to understand why I fired you. You know i…"
"Fired me…?" Madonna cut me off. "…You think I'm upset over you firing me? I don't give a damn if you fired me Blessing! What I meant was that this was not supposed to be the cause of our date. I thought we had something going on. I thought it was legit. I thought we will have a loving time with each other. But once again I have screwed the pooch," Madonna was full blown crying the longer she spoke.
At first, I didn't believe that Madonna was sad over us and not her job. But there was no hint of malice in her voice. She genuinely felt sad for wrecking her relationship with us. I felt warmth in my body when I saw her crying for my sake. I wanted to drop my spoon and rush over to her side and clutch her in my arms. But there was still no indication if she'd let me in her past.
So, I continued to roll the ball Madonna had kicked. "Madonna, please talk to me so that I can make sense of all of it. Why'd you choose to lie to me? To us? Why'd you use a fake name to hide yourself? Because of Priscilla?"
"Yes!" She admitted.
"Please, tell me everything so that I can understand you better. Tell me why you lied, why'd you put on a farce when you knew my history with Priscilla."
Speaking through her sobs, she said," Blessing, you already know. Why do you want me to reiterate the facts?"
"Because admittance is the first step into forgiveness. Repeating everything that happened between you will construct a bridge between us. And I'll promise not to judge you."
Madonna stood up, walked up to the chair next to me, and sat down. She extended her hand to hold mine, but I retracted my hand into my own.
"I need to be strong, Madonna. Please, start."
And so Madonna started to speak. She told me how she had met Priscilla by chance, stayed with her over night and collected the building blocks of her rapping career. She told me how she cooked up the scandal against herself to keep Priscilla the neutral one in public eye. That also guaranteed that Madonna was a disgrace in the music business and nobody would ever work with her again. That kept her as far as she wanted from Priscilla.
Were her deeds truly selfless or her way out, I could not tell. But she said she took up the different name to differentiate between her old lifestyle and new one. That did mean that she forged her documents to make it look legit.
And now that everything was on the table, I felt a gush of relief hitting every inch of my body. I felt awake. I felt the new page on our lives had turned.
But she was not done yet. After confessing her past to me, she said," I will be moving now to some other place. Now that you know my dirty secrets, I don't retain the strength to look in your eyes." Once again, she cried. But for me, she had pushed my soul into the void.
The sudden panic attacks that I was feeling was the fear of abandonment. When I was on the call with my partners, it hit me that the consequences of my actions meant a wedge between me and her. I had called London to confirm the opening of a new branch, but I couldn't keep my mind straight to whatever they said. Not until I blabbered the words, "I have a perfect candidate who can lead the organization in higher positions, someone I know from work."
I had nominated Madonna for the position of Chief Operating Officer and the new manager of the new branch that was supposed to be built over the course of next two months. My partners had left the whole decision on my shoulders and me suffering from autophobia, had only Madonna as the candidate. But my attempt to make her confess as well as stay were conflict of interest. All I could offer was her new job.
"Maddy, please don't cry. If its about your job, I have you covered. As for…"
"Blessing, please. Would you stop putting job in the equation? It had nothing to do with anything!"
I was losing to myself every second I spent on failed attempts. I panicked. I hugged her. She didn't stop sobbing, but it muffled the voice. I was confused to what I felt. I could only hold her for a while as she attempted to collect herself.
I put my hands on her chin and lifted her head. The lightning flashed over and highlighted the tears that ran over her cheeks. I couldn't help and I kissed her. it was a passionate one. It was forceful.
But it had plenty love in it.
The backdrop of tricking rain filtered my mind and it housed nothing but my strong feelings for Madonna. The second our lips touched, the negativity and anger had no place in my brain. It was one, forceful kiss to the woman I loved.
I moved away after a very charged kiss, but she came back to me and held the back of my head while she planted her lips into mine. She grabbed handful of hair on the back of my head and didn't let me go. My heart pumped endorphin all over in my body which instantly made me twitch between the legs. I caressed her soft cheeks with my fingers and filled my palms with it. Our tongues swimmed in each other's mouth like two playful mermaids. They were inseparable, and so were we.
We stood up, dashed into my room, and started stripping each other. Madonna furiously unbuttoned my shirt and flung the sides away to expose my aroused nipples and overly sensitive breasts. I did the same to Madonna and treated my eyes to her round boobs. She bent down and put my left boob in her mouth, while I cupped both of hers in my cold hands. Her Tongue worked wonders against my soft areola, whereas her pointy nipples in my palm excited me the more I grabbed them.
One of Madonna's hand went down to my pajamas and started running itself over my buttcheeks. But I knew where she was headed, and I had no intention to resist. Madonna's hand went down and the first opening she felt, she inserted her middle finger in it. It made me bend over Madonna's back. Her soft thrusts made me moist in an instant. My hands over her breasts became unresponsive because of my greed of pleasure. My mind blanked so much that I was lost in the tides of delight that I had forgotten Madonna's share of stimulation.
I tapped on her butt, and we changed positions. She came up on me, just like she always wanted. I got the chance to strip her down to nothing and run my tongue all over her vagina. I separated her posterior and dug deep while Madonna worked with her tongue on one hand, while using her fingers on the other.
I wanted to return the favor, but the building orgasm in my body made me quiver as I forced my tongue to her clitoris. It was nearing for both of us, but none of us wanted to give up. We turned violent, and ejaculated in the most vigorous manner.
We climaxed on each other's face. The experience was unlike anything we had done in the past. And yet, the feeling of guilt didn't leave my mind. A sudden gush of me cheating on Priscilla entered my mind, and I couldn't shake the feeling. So I decided to do the most obvious thing. I asked Madonna to lie down near me, and when she complied, I asked her if it was weird.
"No, It's not. It has almost been a year since that Priscilla incident. I don't plan to do anything like that ever again."
"Let me ask you one thing, why'd you do it?"
"Blessing, I don't want to answer that."
"Why Not?"
"You know who personality of oneself is never right or wrong? There is something called intentions and motivations. And they, are never right."