Missionary Position

by Daisy Prescott

  “Deal. Now make me forget my name.” I pulled his face down to mine.

  His lips paused a breath away, and he whispered, “My pleasure.”

  Our lips pressed together; tongues explored while our hands roamed. I nipped his bottom lip, pulling it into my mouth and sucking. He expressed his approval by moaning and thrusting his hips, rubbing my clit with the seam of his shorts through the thin cotton of my skirt. Besides fucking Kai, my next favorite thing was making out with him like teenagers. Only we never stopped with the dry humping.

  I raised my hips, encouraging him to roll over, but instead of following my silent command he pulled my hands above my head again.

  “I’m in charge now.” He lifted his eyes to meet mine. “Hold on.”

  My eyes widened with excitement, and I obediently wrapped my hands around the wood slats of the bed.

  “Good girl. I’ve decided you think too much.”

  “What’s your solution for that?”

  “I’ll do the thinking for the both of us.” He knelt and unbuttoned his shirt. The white fabric slowly parted to expose his chest, the ripple of abs below his pecs, and finally, the thin trail of hair leading to Gerhard.

  “Eyes up here, sweetheart.”

  I flicked my gaze to his, then focused it to his hands where he undid his belt. When they paused, I lifted my eyes again. “What?”

  “You weren’t following instructions.”

  “But that’s my favorite part. It’s like Christmas and unwrapping the best present.”

  Shaking his head, he licked the corner of his lips. “What should I do with you?”

  “You could always gag me,” I suggested.

  “I could, but I enjoy your mouth too much.” He stretched down to kiss me, but pulled away before I could extend the kiss further.

  I pouted. Clearly, I didn’t like giving up control.

  He kissed me again and swirled his tongue with mine. He whispered, “Play along and I’ll give you everything you crave. Stay still.”

  I nodded and tightened my grip on the bed. Now completely naked, he spread my legs. An impulse to squirm bubbled up inside me. I wondered if he’d spank me as punishment. Warmth turned to heat.

  He stripped me of my clothing, and I lay splayed in front of him, my hands resting above me. While he observed me, I studied his body, memorizing every line and curve. Lost in the sight of him, I squeaked when he pulled my legs down to the edge. He knelt on the floor and rested his hands on my open thighs.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered from between my hip bones.

  Closing my eyes, I sighed with pleasure while he kissed an arc from one thigh to the other. It tickled and teased, driving me to beg.

  “Please.”

  I needed more stimulation. My fingers played with my nipples, tugging and pinching as my hands cupped my breasts. Soon his fingers entered me—first two, then three—turning and curving to hit a place inside of me that made my spine arch. My feet sought traction, needing to tense and brace as pleasure took over while he sucked, licked, and kissed my clitoris.

  “Fuck,” I said when he curled his fingers and stilled his tongue, pressing down right on the spot, sending me over the edge. He held my legs open when I tried to close them to release some of the pain, which followed such intense pleasure.

  While I rode out the waves of my orgasm, he kept his fingers inside, but eased away from my oversensitive clit.

  I was legless with bliss.

  “Well, that worked.” He smiled smugly from between my thighs.

  “You’re a snake charmer, Hendriks.”

  “More like a pussy charmer. I’m not done with you yet. Roll over.” His voice held a stern edge when he stood.

  I complied, moving to the center of the bed.

  “Up on your knees.”

  I braced my weight on my forearms and curved my ass up seductively.

  He slapped me on one cheek, and then the other. A warm tingle replaced the initial sting.

  “I love your curves,” he said.

  I turned to peek at him. His eyes were focused where his hand caressed the swell of my bottom. He stepped over to his luggage for a condom before returning to the bed.

  “Head forward.”

  I liked his bossiness.

  I faced forward and waited for his weight to dip the mattress behind me.

  The hairs on his legs I’d admired earlier tickled my thighs when he settled himself behind me. I inhaled and held my breath, waiting for the moment he entered me, slowly exhaling when he did.

  I tilted forward when he thrust behind me, finally giving into gravity and letting my chest hit the bed. It changed the angle, allowing him to be even deeper when he rocked.

  This wasn’t slow lovemaking. This was passion unleashed as he pummeled my body with his.

  Groaning, Kai pulled out. He flipped me over and entered me again.

  Our gazes locked, our breaths mingled. Fighting the temptation to close them and break our connection, I kept my eyes open.

  I loved it.

  This moment.

  This connection between us.

  Nothing else existed while we came together over and over again.

  Finally, he closed his eyes and arched his neck. A low, guttural groan escaped his lips when he shuddered and stilled. He flopped next to me, pulling me close with one hand while the other removed the condom.

  Blissed out and genuinely sleepy, I sighed, resting my cheek on his chest. “I like it when you’re bossy.”

  “No, you don’t.” He kissed the crown of my head.

  I giggled. “I did enjoy it. Even the missionary position at the end.”

  “You don’t always have to be in control, love.”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  His chest shook with his amusement. “Trust me.”

  I stretched backward to gaze into his eyes.

  “I know I’ve given you little reason to with all the revelations, but now you know my secrets.”

  “All of them?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “The biggest ones. The most important parts of me you didn’t know.” His earnest tone emphasized his words.

  “I like knowing your big parts.” My nails scraped through the hair below his belly button.

  He tightened his abs at my touch. “Not only about sex and body parts, Selah.”

  I did know, and what I knew scared me.

  EVERYTHING WAS HOPELESS, pointless, and futile. Okay, the last two meant the same thing, but when Kai and I visited Elmina “castle” prior to returning to Accra, both applied to my emotions. Despite my intellectualizing of places not holding memory, the dark, dank spaces inside Elmina affected me more than I anticipated.

  History was messy, ugly, angry, and violent. Rarely was it as pretty as depicted by the paintings hanging in museums.

  I cried at the stories told by our guide.

  Horror could occupy space, haunting it.

  I never wanted to return.

  I gasped for air and turned my face to the strong sunlight when we exited the door. Sitting on a bench facing away from the building, I focused on the living taking place around me. To my left, a pair of goats nibbled green grass on the lawn, ignoring the “keep off the grass” sign. A young woman sold trinkets on a small piece of cloth set on the ground at her feet, and two men chatted next to a large tour bus while several children wearing blue school uniforms played tag in its shade.

  Kai handed me a bottle of water.

  I chugged the warm liquid, and then exhaled. “Thank you.”

  “It’s a powerful place.”

  I nodded in response.

  We sat for a moment without speaking. My usual defenses of snark and humor failed me. I had no words.

  He broke through my silence. “You okay?”

  I shook my head. “I … I wasn’t expecting to have such a strong reaction.” I gulped water. “Makes our conversation yesterday an exercise in intellectual masturbation—all my theorizing about place and object.”


  With a chuckle, he put his arm around my shoulders. “Life does go on, history forgotten.” He squinted toward the long fishing boats crowding the water. “Forgotten and repeated.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Slavery isn’t a thing of the past in Ghana. Or anywhere in the world.”

  I stared at him.

  “See the boats?” he asked. “Many of those boys and young men working on them are contemporary slaves or work for little pay. Parents sell their children to the fishermen, who make promises of school and a better life. Instead, they spend their lives on boats, detangling nets and living in fear of beatings.”

  The boats rocked on the water, their colorful green nets dotted with brightly painted buoys. Small boys scampered around several of them.

  “Are you serious?” I asked, unable to comprehend how right under my nose slavery existed in the shadow of a monument of the slave trade.

  “One hundred percent,” he said, his voice serious.

  “How do you know about this?”

  “It’s my work.”

  “I thought you were a wealthy banker, suit wearing super power, captain of industry, master of the universe type.”

  He rubbed his hands up over his jaw and scruff. “I was.”

  “But not anymore?”

  Frowning, his mouth formed a tight line. “Not anymore. I told you yesterday, I’ve been working to change over the last five years. This is part of it.”

  I shifted my body to see his face clearly. “What does that mean?”

  “Instead of making money for the sake of having money, I focus on using it to do better in the world.”

  “A modern day Robin Hood?”

  He smiled and grabbed my hand. “Kind of. Except the part about robbing the rich. I don’t rob them. I convince them to do the right thing, not only for themselves, but for everyone.”

  “How do you do that?” I asked, stopping myself from imagining Kai’s long legs encased by green tights. He’d look hot, and ridiculous, but still sexy.

  “Remember the conference last week?”

  “On micro-finance?”

  “That one. I started TNG’s program, along with our Fair Trade policy. We’re focused on divesting from companies who have slavery in their supply chains.”

  “Forgive my ignorance, but does that apply to a lot of companies?”

  He laughed, its sound hollow. “You have no idea.”

  “That bad?”

  “Worse.”

  “This is your life’s work?”

  “It is now.”

  “You mentioned pissing off your father. Does this have something to do with it?”

  “You caught that?” He exhaled and rolled his neck. “Gerhard was not exactly amused with my decision.”

  His father, not his penis, I reminded myself.

  “Why not?”

  “For one, it made him uncomfortable. My life crisis made him examine his own life. At the beginning, I acted pretty self-righteous.”

  “Drank all the Kool-Aid?”

  “Not sure what that means.”

  “Converts who go full tilt boogie on whatever new dogma they discover.”

  “Ah, then yes. There may have been an unfortunate vegetarian and hemp phase.”

  I couldn’t help myself; I laughed, loud and inappropriate for the setting. “Did you grow your hair out?”

  He brushed his hand over his hair while his lips curved upward. “I did. Even spent three months living at an ashram in India.”

  “You didn’t!” I hit his shoulder with my hand, causing him to tip away from me.

  “I did the whole vow of silence thing.” He pretended to zip his lips closed.

  I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle my laughter. “You are so not a suit wearing Gerhard!”

  “I’ve been trying to tell you this.”

  “I didn’t believe you.”

  “Evidently.”

  “But in Amsterdam you wore those suits.”

  “I had meetings which required suits. I kept some vestiges of my old life.”

  “You look killer in a suit.”

  “Now you’re sad I’m not a banker?”

  In the sunlight, I studied the miniature freckles across his nose and the crinkles from smiling in the corner of his eyes. Banker, do-gooder, it didn’t matter. “Not at all. As long as you still occasionally wear a suit.”

  “Why do I have the feeling you have a thing for costumes?”

  “Like Halloween?” I asked innocently.

  He stared into my eyes. “Like role-play.”

  “How did we switch from talking about slavery to role play?” I deflected.

  “I have no idea.” He cocked his eyebrow at me. “Nice avoidance there.”

  “I don’t think it’s appropriate to have that conversation here.” I gestured behind us.

  “You’re probably right.”

  Kai may have pulled all of his skeletons out of the closet, but I wasn’t ready to reveal mine. And certainly not my pirate fetish.

  He really would look hot wearing tights.

  “Thanks for bringing me here.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “And talking me down off the ledge after.”

  “Anytime.”

  I faced the white-washed building, saying a quick prayer for the lives changed forever by its existence, including my own.

  On the road to Accra, I said, “Now tell me about long-haired, yoga doing, bendy, silent Kai.”

  AFTER THE EMOTIONAL weekend of facing both Kai’s past and Ghana’s history, I needed some Selah time. Kai informed me he had to visit the Volta region for meetings for the week. He sweetly asked me to join him, but I declined with a promise to make it up to him when he returned. I spent my days at the museum, working my way through a collection of bronzes Emmanuela pulled for me. In the evenings, I sat inside the sun hut and read before dinner.

  Ama checked on me my second evening alone.

  “Careful of the mosquitoes, dear girl,” she said entering the sun hut. “You might not hear them coming over your ear buds.”

  I muted the music on my laptop. “I’m taking my meds.”

  She gave me a motherly look, which basically equaled a frown and sad eyes. “You take care of yourself perfectly fine on your own, but sometimes you have to let others pick up the heavier burdens.”

  “You didn’t come outside to remind me to put on bug spray, did you?” I eyed her with caution.

  “Of course, but life isn’t one thing and not others.” She sat across from me on the long bench.

  “No, it’s never that simple.”

  “How are things with Kai?”

  “Here we go …”

  “You’re surprised I’m asking?”

  “I’m shocked it took you two days.”

  Her laughter filled the enclosed area. “I was respecting your need for space.”

  “You and Kai share boundary issues. He’s texted me several times both yesterday and today. I like my alone time and space.”

  “And Kai likes you,” she said, smiling. “And he knows what he wants.”

  “It’s the man who’s the issue.”

  “Don’t you like him?”

  “I do.”

  “Hmmm …”

  Closing my laptop, I waited for her to continue. She stared into the dark garden for a few moments.

  “I’m trying to figure out what the issue is. Give me a clue,” she said.

  “Besides the lying, and the wife? And the daughter?”

  “He told me yesterday he’d come clean with you. Finally.”

  “He did. Kind of. He told me about Anita and when I met her she mentioned having a daughter.”

  “And having an ex-wife and child is a deal breaker?”

  “They have been in the past.”

  “Selah, honey, do you really want to be with a man with no past? Not sure there are very many virgins in your age group.”

  I chortled.

  “Ri
ght, you’d eat a virgin alive.”

  “I can’t imagine starting from scratch.”

  “Perhaps a lapsed priest?”

  “Probably a virgin.”

  “True. You could find a nice missionary, one who could be easily tempted into corruption and lust.”

  I giggled at her suggestion. “That’s all kinds of wrong, Ama.”

  “I’m highlighting your options for a man without baggage.”

  “I get it.”

  “Don’t let Kai’s past define him. He works hard, loves his daughter, and is easy on the eyes.” She fanned herself with her hands. “Plus, he’s demonstrated he can commit long term. Sounds like a catch to me.”

  “And the lying?”

  “Did he lie, or omit?”

  “Aren’t they the same thing?” I asked, incredulous.

  “Not at all. Have you told him about your lovers and fear of commitment? Or those smutty pirate books you write?” She gave me a pointed look.

  I rolled my eyes. “No, but—”

  “But nothing. Men become stupid when they fall in love. Boys tease; men do stupid things.”

  Men weren’t the only ones who did stupid things.

  “You’re not defined by the stupid things you’ve done, or not done. Don’t apply rules and expectations to that wonderful man you won’t follow yourself.” With a pat to my leg, she stood up and straightened her skirt.

  “Gotcha.” I pouted.

  “Don’t stay out here, sulking and getting bit by mosquitoes,” she called out, walking to the house.

  A telltale buzz near my ear reminded me I hadn’t put on bug spray. I tracked the flying insect buzzing around me until it landed on my leg, where I promptly killed it. Ama was right about the nasty little buggers. She was probably right about the other things, too.

  I sent Kai a quick email asking about his plans for the rest of the week.

  My inbox burst with unanswered messages from Maggie and Quinn. I opened the oldest one and found a picture of Maggie, Gil, Quinn, and Ryan with Lizzy, smiles wide, and in Lizzy’s case, drooly. Despite my dislike of babies, I smiled. The joy evident on my friends’ faces superseded my cynicism. Lizzy’s fat cheeks and dimpled arms reminded me of the little faces in the Kente village. Her life was blessed from birth in ways she would not understand for a long time. If ever.