DICKIE THE DICK
Dicky was always a
horny boy. If the nurses at the delivery room at the time of his birth were
keen, or had the government issued forms allowed it, the section marked for sex
in the form would have read not the normal male or female we are used to, but
horny. It is the norm that when newborns land in this callous planet called
earth, they should cry. Some of them do it out of their own volition but others
have to be spanked for them to break into that soothing spell of crying.
After crushing his mother’s vitals with his
big head and closed eyes, Dicky announced his arrival in a spectacular way. Instead of splitting the air with a blood
curdling yell laced with shock and despair, he declared his arrival with a hard
on. The tiny 3.1 kilogramme of flesh, bones and the devil knows what else
projected a missile of a ‘willie’ pointing to compass point P**** as a sign
that he was not a case of still birth. If only the nurses were keen that day, they
would most definitely have added a disclaimer in Dicky’s birth certificate or
notification of birth slip depending on what was available after senior
government officials had looted funds meant for the procreation ministry. The disclaimer would have read: We
hereby release from our labour ward what we believe would be a famous explorer
of feminine anatomy armed with a p**** and ‘B88b’ seeking missile. Handle it
with utmost caution.
Dicky had a claw hammer
shaped head and a set of G- Clamps for his ears. By the age of eighteen, his
charcoal black face was accentuated with a pattern on of countless pimples,
black heads and a holy communion of ugliness. I suspect that at the time of his
conception his mother was high on a dose of hate and loathing. The night he was
conceived, the male who sired him, so to speak, must have accidentally stumbled
upon eve’s apple in a state of sheer hate for mankind and unfathomable despise
for the human race. Dicky had a face only a mother could love yet
he terrorized the village girls and women with wild abandon. What the creator-if
such a being exists- had denied him in his looks was compensated in his
wit. His repertoire of humour was encyclopedial.
What about his hardworking nature? When it came to tasking manual work, he was
a bulldozer, fork lift and cranes cobbled into one fit of unlovable ugliness.
It is these elements of muscle power, sharp wit and humour that the village
women found irresistible.
Dicky, the village
Casanova, Don Juan, Romeo and the official village chief cockerel was requested
by Mariam to assist chain her heifer that was on heat. The said heifer had
broken two ropes already as it sought what Dicky, (had he been a bull) would have
given her in great relish. Mariam, as I
think about the incident now, I tend to visualize how she bore an uncanny
resemblance to a ‘black maria’
Mariam was not the kind
of beauty one would speak of after meeting her. She was a mammoth woman blessed
in a very beautiful way blessed with a bosom that could be hit with a rocket
propelled grenade and live to tell the tale. From her shoulders, chunky trunks
protruded and proceeded to dangle in an awkward attempt to complete the
inevitable semblance of arms and ended up creating hands. In a land that once
existed between her chest and hips, now resided a colony of a protrusion that
seemed to be on the verge of bursting. Was it a stomach? Mariam, yes that Mariam.
***********
That afternoon, Dicky
split the firewood as requested by Mariam. Hell knows or attests to the fact
that he was a good boy. I opt not to delve into the facts of what transpired
between Dicky splitting fire wood and splitting Mariam’s apple.
************
They were joined in a
coital union sowing the seeds of sin in the banana farm behind her house. Dicky
the explorer (he who was born with a
phallus pointing at compass point p****) and Mariam, she who bore the least
semblance to an amoeba it terms of her figure, rode the waves to heaven and
hell. The banana leaves above them fanned them into an open air- air
conditioned fantastical world. Dicky was not only an explorer but also a miner.
He drilled tirelessly as he sought all minerals in Mariam. I guess that he
discovered an iron ore mine in her, for I truly suspect that is what all hoes
have to offer. The tide of emotion that
had ebbed the previous dusk rose. With it, it brought a monstrous gale of desire
and lust. Dicky explored the lands.
Mariam was born
equipped with powerful set of lungs. As Dicky pleasured her, she worshipped,
begged and even eulogized her great grandmother. The banana plants around them bristled in
their own way as the duo devoured the apple .It was cool, it was serene and it
was enchanting ecstasy. Mariam’s screams and moans set the jet on auto pilot.
They let go! As she cruised at a height
of 10,000 kilometers, heading for cloud nine, she all but forgot her husband’s
lunch hour.
*********
Returning from his
shamba, her husband was attracted by the screams. His panga on the ready, thinking that his beloved Mariam was in mortal danger,
he dashed to the shamba. In his mind,
in the short seconds that fleeted past, he thought that his beloved Mariam was
entangled in the death kiss of a python. His badly torn shirt training behind him
trying to keep up with his calico patched pair of what was once a semblance of
a trouser, he tore through the shamba. Thorns pricking places between his legs were
ignored. His panga held high in a scepter
like fashion, he crashed into a scene of illicit cerebration between his beloved
Mariam and Dicky. Wild anger ensued. Insanity. Yells. Screams.
*****
Very soon I will make
sure that I visit Dicky.
I hope his wounds won’t
fester
No comments:
Post a Comment