Flames of Passion—ZenPens

The Flames of Passion

A dark, rainy night crept into the university community. The steel roofs drummed so violently, while the grounds embraced the wetness. Clouds were lions, as they roared loudly in a distant horizon. Perpendicular lines of lightning could be seen across the night sky. The cold wind came, bashing against the roots of many trees and causing the tree branches to shake, as their leaves danced like gyrating mice.

It rained so heavily that even the night crawlers took to their heels, abandoning the university premises in a deserted looks. Students had gone buried underneath the bosom of their beds, enjoying some cozy sleep. But a twenty-two-year-old Mike Oden still laid faceup on his fluffy bed, as he took a hand and plugged it to his underwear, seducing himself.

The frigid breeze stung mercilessly against Mike’s skin, disturbing his sexual gratification. He quickly grabbed a blanket nearby to cover himself, while allowing his eyes to fix intently at the white celling above his head.

Mike was thinking about Deborah Michael again.

Deborah was one of Mike’s numerous girlfriends. He had invited her over this night but Deborah’s shadow was not seen anywhere. She was a beautiful damsel of eighteen, with squat elbows and long feet. The only daughter of Mr Michael, the pious Catechist of the St. Peter’s Catholic Church, situated in the school environment.

Deborah happened to be the only girl with the most beautiful voice in St. Peters. And Mike had fallen in love with her, when she was twisting her slender body in a holy dance, while leading the brethren in a section of praise. That was a month ago, on the very first day Mike attended a six o’clock Mass.

Mike was not yet satisfied with Deborah’s ravishing figure. But, learning that she was the only one with such a seraphic voice in a church of numerous choirs, Mike Oden could not help but fell in love. The act of which his friends had wondered if such was the way the Odens used to fall in love. But Mike knew what he was doing.

He’d confessed he simply loved Deborah’s angelic voice in rendering songs, since people also affirmed that she was created only to sing for God. For Deborah’s melodious songs could heal the sick, deliver the demon possessed, and even convert the worse sinners to the faith, but Mike Oden was not that kind of sinner. He had strongly made up his mind to enjoy the pleasures of life while he was still a youth. He feared that old age might deny him all those pleasures.

It was clear he had no business with any thought of holiness or righteous living. So he had always lied to girls like Deborah, telling them he was a ‘born again’ child of God, who really loved to be followed up to remain in faith. To Deborah, he had said he longed to hear her beautiful voice all the time. He wished Deborah could come over to his lodge and lullaby him with her angelic voice. But Deborah had always turned him down. Not after what Mike tried to do the last time she visited.

Deborah had told Mike during this visitation that she loved him just for his confession of faith and believe in Christ, and won’t compromise her own faith to prove it in any way he may desire, but Mike was an obstinate lad. He was obviously a Casanova, who never gave up easily in such matters.

Deborah had spelt it out that she was a daughter of Zion, whose loins should not be defied. But Mike had swept her warnings under carpet as he gently leaned over, trying to run a hand underneath her skirt, while professing his love in a romantic tone. This hand crawled on Deborah like a snake. She felt it like an electric shock. Quickly she slapped it away with a disdainful countenance.

“Mike, I don’t like these your unholy touches. And I won’t dare to come visiting you again,” Deborah had blurted out as she hurriedly made to leave. But Mike groaned and threw some playful slaps across her left cheek, promising he won’t try it again.

Since then, Deborah had not even promised to visit again. She had surrounded herself with myriad of excuses as defense mechanisms to deter her from visiting him again.

But this night was going to be different. Mike was not ready for a repeat of such disheartening show.

At 4:30 p.m, before the rain began, he had lied to Deborah that he was severely sick and needed some prayers or maybe some songs of healing to aid his recovery. He had arranged everything in place, expecting the glimpse of Deborah’s figure. He hoped the rain could cease. But then, he smiled cheerfully, knowing that such situations might as well help to glue Deborah on his bed for the night.

Minutes later, Mike heaved a heavy sigh and brought his hand away from his boxers, feeling unsatisfied. He leaned his back against the bedroom wall, as pangs of worry took over his minds. He feared more that the rain might disorganize his plans. His anxiety soon took him over to the window. There, he reflected on his derelict surroundings. He had always loved the spacious university lodge but not with its deserted looks. The reason which often encouraged Mike’s tendency to feel lonely. And when that happened, he would prefer to quench his loneliness with some sexual gratifications.

Some moments later, Mike saw something in a distance, or rather some one amidst the heavy downpour. It was the grateful figure of Deborah. A beam of smile ran across Mike’s lips. And he felt a hug relief in his heart.

Deborah knew Mike as an impatient gentleman with fluffy feet and seductive eyes. A strong-willed bloke, who liked to talk about Jesus Christ. But Mike didn’t know Jesus. He was just a hypocrite.

And it was, therefore, a pity on the side of Deborah, who didn’t not know that Mike was just a wolf in sheep clothing. She never knew that Mike only loved her for what he wanted from her.

Of course, she wouldn’t have dared to visit Mike again save for last Sunday, when he came, dragging his feet in a hew of sand with his mouth, moving in apology. Mike’s crocodile tears had touched her Christ-like heart and so, Deborah accepted to visit again.

Who would have believed that here came Deborah, the holy virgin Deborah, the daughter of Catechist Michael of St. Peter’s Church, defying the frigid weather that had even sent the night crawlers away, only to fulfill a promise.

At the glimpse of Deborah’s figure, Mike was in a smiling mood. He quickly dashed outside to meet her. He could see the silent glint in her eye.

“Good evening, dear,” greeted Deborah, with a creepy glare that reminded Mike of their previous encounter. “It’s not that I don’t love you, dear but I won’t spend more than five minutes here. How is your health?”

Mike left the last question. He was much concerned with the first statement.

“But why not, my love?” Mike puzzled. “Why won’t you spend more than five minutes with me?”

“Com on Mike, you know that it’s night already and the rain is heavy. Mike you ask as if you don’t know who my father is. I barely managed to come out just to fulfil my promise.”

Mike looked back, even more worried. He leaned over and threw a hand across her shoulder.

“Okay, let’s at least get inside, the weather is pretty bad and your five minutes is already going. ”

“No Mike, I can’t. Don’t you get it?” she asked as she dropped the umbrella she was holding on the floor. “There’s no time for that, and I won’t like my parents to notice that I am not in my room at this time of the night.”

Mike abandoned her at the threshold and went inside, feeling irritated. Deborah wanted to return home as soon as possible, but then felt her action might have hurt him. Her religion had taught her that it wasn’t normal for a Christian to leave a fellow brethren heartbroken. So she decided to settle the score before leaving. At least she had fulfilled her promise.

“Deborah, do you take me for a kid?” Mike quarrelled, as he sighted her trotting towards him.

“Not that Mike, all I ask is your understanding. You know that I’m a leader of the choirs in the church, right? I shouldn’t be making this movement else, people may misinterpret us as—”

“As what?” Mike cut her off. “Look dear, they can go ahead and gossip however they like provided we haven’t offended God, or have we?”

Deborah sat frozen and stared at the talker. Mike’s lips moved so fast, as he employed all his best techniques to convince her.

“Look, honey,” Mike was saying. “We’re still in His good books. You must understand that no matter what you do on earth, people must talk.” Mike was already stroking his palm on Deborah’s cheek and touching her lips softly.

Deborah became motionless. They looked at each other with sensational feelings. There was cold, and so, Mike knew the best thing to do was to take to the warmness of his hairy chest. Soon, the atmosphere changed. The room was electrifying with passionate emotions. Their bodies were already interlocking but they had not rolled on the bed.

“Please I have to go now,” Deborah suddenly announced, escaping away from Mike’s grip. It was as if a wave of consciousness blew on her face and the spell of lust yanked off her eyes.

“I promise to put you in prayers, Mike.” Deborah was already going out.

“Deborah, I’m tired of this your promises. Just go!” Mike yelled furiously, while grabbing a blanket, his back turned against her and his face was to the wall.

Deborah understood the feeling. She leaned forward to explain further. But Mike suddenly scurried up and headed to the door. To Deborah’s surprise, he bolted it and tucked the key into his pocket.

“What are you doing, Mike?” Deborah bellowed?

“What doesn’t it look like I’m doing, huh?” His voice sounded devilish.

Deborah crumbled on the floor, beggarly.

“Please don’t do this to me. I beg you in the name of God.”

“Shut up you bitch!” came a thunderous from Mike

Deborah’s squat elbows trembled and her long feet wobbled, as she ran to the door trying to open it. But her efforts were abortive. She crawled back to him, begging with tears streaming down her cheeks. She wished the ground could open and swallow her. She regretted the visit and prayed for God or anyone to come for her rescue, but no one came. She could hear her heart panting audibly like a dog that had been given a marathon chase by a tiger.

Mike’s red eyes sparkled fire. He quickly lunged upon her, grabbing her by hands, and flung her to the wall. Then, she let out an agonising groan and collapsed to the ground.

“Be whatever, you are not better than others and this night is my turn,” Mike roared and smirked impishly at her.

Quickly, he mounted on her desperately. Deborah’s little strength could not amount to anything.

Few minutes later, Deborah Michael’s dignity was stolen and her beautiful body lay, staring helplessly at the flames of passion that filled Mike’s eyes.

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