his cell phone, nightclub entrance fees, and the like, just because she found him handsome, had money written on her forehead, or appeared like a wallet on legs. Then the thought went through her mind: why am I kissing this man when I could be getting paid for it? He is attractive. We are on a palm fringed beach. Why not? Age is salient because my youthfulness gives me the freedom to pick and choose which men I want to kiss or do business with. Moreover, the fact that I am far from desperate means that I can do the manipulating, not vice versa. Here in Sunsandland, there are a lot of beach bumsters, many of whom hook up with old Muzungu ladies. It makes us laugh because all the contrasts are there: a white woman and a black man, a young man and an older woman, a rich woman and a poor man…
Lilly Loveless remembered not wanting to leave Sunsandland. A lot had happened following her meeting with her kisser bumster. Much hunger fed, many more desires awoken. She returned to Muzunguland despite herself, to feed on memories and dream her desires. It was a pity that the best wine of her short stay in Sunsandland should have been kept for so late in the day. But her thoughts and feelings were staying behind, even as she boarded the plane back to the monotony of her daily existence.
A few days after her return, she sent him an email that ended with the words: ‘The pain of leaving you is as acute now as it was when I boarded the plane. So many things have happened in the meantime, but you’ve never been out of my thoughts. How I long to hold you close and kiss you deep: missing you like this really hurts. There’s a continuous gnawing ache reminding me of you all the time. Something like hunger, but more persistent, weighing me down in a flood of reminiscences.’
This must have been the cue he needed. Lilly Loveless’ phone rang, and without bothering to find out who was at the other end of the line, the kisser said his lines obviously borrowed from a magazine or novel.
“My Dear Lilly Loveless,” he began. “Imagine me with you in Bruhlville. It is almost dinner time. You are standing in the kitchen preparing something to eat when you feel me behind you, sliding my firm African hands round your waist and softly kissing your neck... You know I want you.... As you feel my hands slide up your waist to your breasts, I gently tease your nipples, still kissing your neck and whispering in your ear that I can’t wait much longer, I need to take you, right here, right now...”
He ran out of airtime, but not before irreparable damage had been done.
It was Martin her boyfriend who received the call, his last.
Lilly Loveless remembered being philosophical about the way things ended: “Everyone who comes into or leaves our lives is a mirror for something inside us that we are not seeing”, was what she told her mom who would not stop complaining about the fact that things had ended with Martin.
Deep in reverie Lilly Loveless imagined her kisser bumster lying by her side at this quiet lover’s paradise of Sakersbeach. With her eyes closed, she felt him do what he did best. He brought his thick, sensuous, passionate lips to ignite hers, and she was all on fire, burning with desire…
The fire of desire found satisfaction in fantasies. Lilly Loveless remembered thinking years ago, as she walked through a crowded shopping mall in her native Bruhlville: what would it be like to approach some relaxed looking tall, handsome, sexy young man her age and lay a kiss on him? Would he take advantage of a passionate kiss with a stranger? Would she earn herself a black eye? Would it be exciting, or disappointing? Both? What if she dazed him by flashing her tits to say: ‘Be a man - take me, use me, dump me’? She fantasized about breaking some of the other intriguing taboos, such as sex with an extra man or woman in the picture, the way only exhibitionists or the porn industry know best. Was that too weird, too counter-culture, too dark and wrong? Or was it a valid sexual exploration that she was ashamed of due only to society’s wagging finger?
***
Through with his interview, Bobinga Iroko came back and met Lilly Loveless, still sunbathing and reading A Nose for Money, which Britney had strongly recommended, and which she was discovering to be quite relevant to her theme. It was by the author of the paper Lilly Loveless had read, and a copy of which she had brought with intentions of giving to Dr Wiseman Lovemore, but had not got round to it before what happened. An idea crossed her mind. What if she were to write to the author something like: ‘Your work is of great interest to me. Writing is another passion of mine and I have all these ideas in my head which I hope to capture in a book sometime in this lifetime. I was wondering if you could take me under your wing and allow me to pick your brains. When I stumbled across your work, I knew I had found a gem and I would be deeply humbled and honoured to be mentored by you. Thank you very much for your consideration and look forward to hearing from you.’ How would he react? Would this inflate his ego? Or would he remain modest and reply? Why not try and see…?
Lilly Loveless resolved to find out his address and write when she was back in Bruhlville. But that would have to wait until she had read the book. Like with Dr Wiseman Lovemore’s paper which she was yet to read, she had an ambivalent feeling about reading the novel. Captivating though the blurb was, she feared going beyond the first few pages of the novel because she didn’t want the book to influence her thinking even before she had the opportunity to analyse things for herself. So, after the first few pages of the book, she closed it and promised herself not to open it again until she was safely back home and writing up.
Bobinga Iroko noticed the book and wanted to start a conversation on the contents, but was stopped by Lilly Loveless.
“I don’t want to know… I don’t want to know… I don’t want to know…” She told him, blocking her ears with both hands.
Bobinga Iroko moved on to another topic. He suggested they take a walk. Lilly Loveless agreed, but only after a dip.
Bobinga Iroko changed rapidly into his swimming trunks, and together they threw themselves at the gentle waves and enjoyed the sensitive fingers of the irresistible sea water massage them. To Lilly Loveless, this was almost as good as the soft hands of Martin that, aided by massage oils, used to make her smile infinitely with pleasure until things got sour between them. Bobinga Iroko and she loved every second of the encounter and didn’t notice the time pass until an hour and thirty minutes later. But there was also a burning desire to walk along the beach, which they succumbed to, and which offered them an opportunity to talk about all and nothing. It was simply magnificent. When they came across little turtles, Bobinga Iroko talked about turtles doing it, and went on to inform Lilly Loveless that you can tell a male turtle because his underside, unlike a female’s which is just flat, is concave, to facilitate shell mounting. What a man, Lilly Loveless thought, so refreshingly and wonderfully uninhibited. So nutty! She wondered just how uninhibited he would be, if she were to suggest that she would like to feel him next to her, his knees nestling into her side as she looked up into his laughing eyes…
When they returned to the car, it was already getting dark. Going to the Botanic Gardens would have to wait for another day, they decided, and went for roasted fish at one of the loveliest restaurant-bars along the port. As they waited for their fish while sipping their beer, they watched fishermen return to display their catch for market women, house wives and restaurant owners to pick and choose for cash. Lilly Loveless loved every second of it.
All of a sudden, there was unexpected drama: not by market women struggling for the choicest fish; not by the truck pushers fighting over who should carry what for whom. The drama came from a couple in the restaurant, sitting a few tables away from Bobinga Iroko and Lilly Loveless. It was a man and his wife, having dinner on her birthday, so it eventually unfolded. There was the alert of an SMS on the man’s cell phone from his girlfriend informing him that she, all oiled up and shiny, was wearing his favourite thong and wanted to see him right away for the time of his life. Curious, the wife wanted to know whom the SMS was from. The man lied to his wife that the text message was from his mother wishing his wife happy birthday. The wife asked to see the message, but the man was desperately trying to delete it in his shirt pocket. The wife finally snatched the phone from him and read the message out loud to the hearing of everyone in the restaurant. Then she says: “My husband does not want to look at me, he wants a thong but wouldn’t see mine.” She takes up her skirt to reveal the cute thong she is wearing which her husband doesn’t notice. Then she storms out, leaving