You searched, you searched for something that could get you guys together, something to make him see through you, the real true. You wanted to explain yourself, strike some kind of understanding beyond earth's capacity, something celestial.

So you began, starting first by giving your skin a hard pinch like you would always do but the words didn't just seem to be able to roll out of your mouth, they only played in your head.

You imagined what his response would be and you could hear him say was;

"No! You can't explain. You failed! I didn't teach you to be that weak!"

Yet, you tried again, your lips parted for the countless time that evening, to say something, something thick with emotion, filled with regret, remorse and pain but just like every other time that you had tried, you failed again.

Apart from your colorless failures, he was doomed not to understand you and you other on the hand have not built yourself yet to save yourself with speech.

You failed again but there was still another option left, the one your mother taught you, the one her mother had taught her too.

If it was your mum, she would have stood right in front of your dad and with one swift movement, let her wrapper fall, sending a cold breeze to the fire in your dad's head but unlike your mother, since you didn't like wrappers, you wore skirts instead, long ones.

So lifting your skirt up, revealing your yellow thighs, you saw him shut his eyes to avoid your temptation, and then you heard him whisper a weak "Don't" but you were good at disobeying such orders.

You had already mastered his body. Slowly, you trailed the nape of his neck, light moans fell unwillingly out of his mouth. You watched his Adam's apple danced for a few seconds.

"No" He managed to say. You really had to try hard.

With a brave fear, you took your top of, carefully taking off your bra, your rounded breast dropped. You followed the trace of his eyes, till it stopped on your breasts, your already protruding nipples in particular.
You stared at yourself a little, the only tool that could save you now from his rage.

You began, letting each nipple rest between two fingers, you pinched miserably.

His lips parted. He said something, you didn't hear him well, but you were sure it was your name he called.

You felt, you could try to explain yourself with speech. You tried;

"I ... Am... Sorry... Michael came and... Vulnerable... Was.. I... Resisted... Love.. You" You mumbled admidst seductive moans, just the way he liked it.

You were not done mumbling, when he suddenly pounced on you, he didn't start with your lips like you would have preferred it. He reached for your waiting nipple, sucked passionately, like it was some form of vengeance.

As he wrestled passionately with your body, you thought in your mind's eye that if you had tried to use words, speech, reason, he would be gone out of the house already and all that would be left are the sounds of desolation and terror.

Now, the word woman seemed to make more meaning to you, you thought about all other women who had offered their bodies in place of logical communication. You think about all other women who had turned to this option in place of "I am sorry" "Forgive me" "Love me back" "See through me" "I didn't mean to" "Let me go" "Please".

You could go on thinking and thinking but then you heard his voice;

" You are not so wet"

In response, you placed your pointed nipple into his open mouth to shut him up, then you continued riding.

Then you felt his hand suddenly grabbed your butt cheeks, squeezing passionately.

"I am sorry" You said as his warmth filled up your receiving womb.

Then your eyes met with his, he looked away immediately like you were something to be dreaded, just like the slut he felt you were.

No! Your option had not helped in taking this dirty impression he had of you.

You were still the bitch who fucked his friend while he was away. He didn't care if you had waited a year, he didn't care if it was just a moment weakness.

"Turn" He said, his voice thickening with lust.

You did, you offered yourself freely as a caged tear streamed out of your eyes.

"Turn" He said this time but gently.

He turned, making you assume a position that made you feel just like the dog he called you when he caught you in the act.

But you a woman, not just any woman, one that had mastered the theories of bodies. You have softened his heart with your mysterious body. He isn't going to leave you like he had threatened to, screaming and screaming while you locked yourself in the toilet, weeping, shivering and sweating, taking a second, a third and even a fourth look at the machete that leaned on the wall till you finally looked away.

Unlike before, you could feel your wetness now and you weren't faking the moans anymore, you wanted it. You wanted him.

"I love you" You pledged, you didn't wait for a response, nothing but a careful moan came.

He will stay.... For tonight, maybe tomorrow morning, maybe two nights from now but your only fear was how long this option was going to last.

Maybe soon enough, you would be no different from the dogs on the street in his eyes, maybe he even has some for of hatred in his heart that your body had done so much work in concealing. You had never spoken your mind, you had never done justice to the ideas he has about you, maybe some polishing or correction. How sure stink!

Now, You burn, you scream within, you want to speak, construct some beautiful words along the line of "freedom"

You didn't just know the way out yet but something boils within you, that thing didn't boil within your mother, it didn't boil within your mother's mother.

You wanted freedom in a new way.

For the love of female's emancipation.

For the love of female's enlightenment.

Picture taken with my phone.

The Woman