Zara || A Nigerian Lesbian

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚡

𝚉𝙰𝚁𝙰
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

"Are you expecting anyone, Zara?" My mum asked.

I wasn't really, but I didn't know what to say. But Bella could have told me she was coming before appearing at my doorstep!

I quickly reached for the door before my mother. When it opened, I didn't expect to see who was standing outside. "Nena?"

The corners of her eyes crinkled as a broad smile appeared. "Hey," she quietly greeted.

My mother jerked her head towards the door, trying to see who it was. "Ah, ah. Nnenna, you didn't come with your brother?"

I didn't let Nena answer her but nuzzled my mother out the door and let Nena in. "Goodbye, see you another time," I told her, shutting the door and locking it behind us.

I could hear a giggle. Turning towards where it came from, I saw Nena's face glowing.

Her laugh was a beautiful thing, full of warmth and life, and invited people in. It meshed well with her simple, laid-back appearance and made her seem that much more approachable.

"I'm sorry I badged into you this way. I was around the neighborhood and decided to stop by," she finally said.

You could have least called, I thought to myself. "It's ok. What can I offer you?"

"Food?"

Something about her smile as she said the word food created a tingle in my belly. I was impressed that she didn't seem shy or embarrassed at saying what she really wanted.

We had the lasagna I had prepared earlier in the day, but she didn't eat much of it. She decided it was too fatty for her, so she had some fresh vegetables on the side.

After eating, we concentrated on getting to know each other. We both liked the Nigerian YouTube series Men's Clun—she even admitted that she would do anything to have an Aminu in her life.

And all the time we talked, I was busy staring at the young woman like I did the first time I saw her. I was conscious of the thrum of desire building deep in my belly that said, yes, this is a gorgeous woman. Someone I wanted to know better. One that I wanted to kiss—and more. With her legs curled underneath her on the couch, she looked absurdly young, more a child than a woman. But her long graceful fingers curled around her wine glass confidently, and when she set her full lips to the rim and flicked an evil glance at me from under her lashes, I knew this was no child.

"You already have Bella," I muttered to myself. That's right. I had forgotten all about Bella.

"Who's Bella?"

"A friend of mine. I already have her listed as my next client. You know eh, I think she wants eh..."

She held my hand, "You don't have to explain."

Her hands placed on mine sent an electrified buzz to inner chambers, and I could feel some sort of contraction going on, down there. Not again!

Before I could even let go of her hands, her hands held my chin up with her eyes staring deep into mine. Her lips met mine. My hands automatically responded by roaming her body, learning her shape, how she felt under my hands.

There was something different about kissing Nena. The flutter intensified when her tongue reached for mine. My heart pounded so hard as my knees got weaker. I could only focus on how soft I felt against her lips, how addictively she invaded all her senses.

Kissing Bella wasn't this intense.

Her lips began to depart from mine, and I could feel the cool air brush my lips. "Wow," was all she said.

I was trying to figure out the right words to say, but the doorbell once again interrupted. It had to be my mother once again, invading my privacy. I took in a sharp and trotted towards the door.

As I opened the door, I saw her standing there with a smile on her face, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a box of Domino's pizza in the other.

"Bella," I said with surprise laced in my voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you, and I thought I'd stop by," she replied. "Why didn't you text me back?"

"Oh, shoot. I am so sorry. I was preoccupied with work, my mum, and then Nena..."

"Can I come in, at least?"

"Sure!" I shifted to the side, opening the door wide enough for her to come in. I knew she was going to see Nena, but I didn't know how I would explain anything to both of them.

As we walked into the living room, Nena stood up from the couch, where we were fondling with each other. "Hello," she quietly greeted.

I took a deep breath. "Nena, this is Bella. Bella, this is Nena." The entire room was silent for what seemed like an eternity. All that I could hear was our breathing and the sound of my heart beating.

"Can I speak with you?" Bella asked. "Privately."

"Sure thing. Nena, I'll be right back." We walked into the kitchen, Bella throwing the box of pizza onto the kitchen island — it almost seemed like she was going to smash the bottle of wine on the ground.

"Zara, is everything ok?"

I couldn't tell if she was angry or not because she had a straight face. No muscles moved or cringed, not even her eyebrows. "Bella," I replied softly, grabbing the stool closest to me, anxiety swirling around me.

She ran her hand through her hair, smirking at me. "Oh no, Zara, you will not do this. I have been here before." She had a defensive look in her eye when she said, "You are going to end this, right?"

We hadn't even started anything yet! "You don't get it—" I searched my brain for the right words, but disappointment sagged through me. It was hard to communicate, and I didn't even know what I wanted to say. "Don't get me wrong. Because I know I am attracted to you. But —"

"But what?" she asked, interrupting me with a frosty look on her face.

'We could go to jail. You could end up somewhere you ought not to be in, and you could have people come after us, possibly beating us up if we are not careful."

"But you have another woman here with you?" her body still standoffish.

"You don't want to understand what I am saying. The place we live in is Nigeria if you have forgotten. And they do not take kindly to anyone that identifies as part of the LGBTQ community. Do you get that part?"

Her lips parted like she was going to say something, but she said nothing. She took a deep breath and walked away from the kitchen and out of the house after I heard the door slam.

I didn't know what else to say. Obviously, I've had two minds. The words that came out of my mouth sounded remote, as if someone else was speaking. I wanted to spend the night with her, laugh and hug and be happy. But that other voice, that strange voice of obligation, of guilt, that voice was the voice that unexpectedly seemed to be in control of my thoughts — at this minute.