Read Online Amriika by M. G. Vassanji - Free Book Online

youthful tumescence.
    There were steps coming up.
    She knocked delicately. “Are you awake?”
    “Yes,” he said, then louder, “Yes!”
    “I heard you,” she said, coming in. “I couldn’t sleep either. John called. Wishes you a happy new year. The boys too. They called.”
    “I hope you wished them the same for me.”
    “I did.…Are you hungry? You shouldn’t feel shy, you know. You haven’t had a bite since dinner, and that was seven hours ago.”
    “It’s late now,” he said. “Soon it’ll be morning.” Actually he was quite hungry.
    “What fortitude.…” She sat on the bed, close to his feet, and she gave him a fond look as he tried to raise himself and balance on his elbows.
    “What do you think about when you can’t get to sleep?” she asked.
    “I don’t know … all kinds of things, I suppose.” He felt awkward leaning back on his elbows, and began to sit up some more.
    “It’s all right,” she said, “don’t get up. Sorry I disturbed you. Well, good night.” She moved closer and gave him a peck.
    How nice she smells, her family shouldn’t have abandoned her at this moment …
    “Why, you’re inhaling me,” she said, lingering over him.
    He looked at her, blushing deeply.
    She put a hand on his crotch, over the quilt. “My my, who’s going to take care of this little — not so little — problem. Not by yourself …”
    He tried hard to swallow.
    Deftly she had found his crotch under the bedcovers, over his pyjamas.
    He was flat on his back now and staring at her face, at her eyes, anxiously, breathlessly, almost tearfully.
    “You should let go a little.…Nothing’s that serious … nothing’s worth holding on to so badly.…It’s no sin to love a woman.…” She was on him, and he felt grateful, immensely, and they were kissing, and he didn’t quite know if he was crying or simply moaning with happiness. His knowledge of such moments was almost nonexistent, he knew he had to do something with his lips, his tongue. Her mouth was large and wet and tasty. He wanted to eat her. “Life’s not so evil,” she said, pulling back.
    He felt a pain, somewhere deep inside him; he couldn’t breathe as he looked at her smiling face. He could see a faint down of blonde hair above her lip. There was a thin line, of age, he thought, forming at the corners. Her hair was glorious. She must have been gorgeous ten years ago. He took her hand and kissed her fingers just as she was drawing away, then moved it to his crotch. She pulled down his pyjama with that hand, bent and caressed him with her mouth. “Nice,” she said. “Full blown and ready to burst.” She sat up. “Wait, hold on, think of anything else, the lions on the Serengeti. You have to come properly.” Quickly she had pulled down her panties — he assumed — from under her robe and had climbed on the bed and was wet and sticky on him, and Ramji was enclosed by her and sliding, helpless and joyful, grateful to that loving face above him, and all he could do was grab her buttocks with his hands and move, watching that face contort with pleasure and utter sounds akin to his, say to himself,I am doing it, I am doing it, I am doing it to her. Thank you, God. Thank you, Ginnie.
    “I had it all planned out, you know,” she said.
    “I am glad you did.”
    He was trying to be in command, pushing her down on the bed and mounting her, murmuring endearments.
    “I don’t do this all the time with any guest, you should know that,” she said firmly but tenderly, and pushed him away to sit up.
    “I know, I know … but I love you.”
    Suddenly she shrank back from him and he gaped at her as he beheld before him a stark-bald Ginnie! Her face looked puffed up, the makeup had smudged; and she was holding her blonde hair, a wig, in her hand. She could have been a clown.
    “Ta-raaa!”
    “What … what —” he said in utter confusion.
    “Do you love me now?”
    “Yes I do.” Forcefully. How could he not? But what