Sex

Private Deejay

Posted By

On Jun 27, 2016

By womynpolitiks

She loves her electronic turntable. It’s not new but gives her as much pleasure now as when she bought it three years ago. She loves how the lights rise and fall, bright, dim and brighter again, dancing to the rhythm of the beats. All she needs is to hook it up to her laptop and surround sound speakers for the music to fill the room. She mixes like a pro, knows every song by heart and which one blends to the other. Most of all, she loves to play for her wife.

She sits by the turntable, waiting for the music to work its magic.

Turn off the lights
Light a candle

From the corner of her eye she sees her waltzing into the room. She lifts her head up and watches. The newcomer’s eyes are half-closed as she sways her hips, drinking in the music. Slowly, sensuously, she’s dancing towards her. Without a word she holds out her hand, inviting her to dance. She stands up and begins swaying with her. They dance their way to the middle of the room. Holding her hips, she draws her close.

Heaven’s my destiny when I’m with you
The only place to be just you and me

Her hands slide upwards from her hips to her waist, rest there a moment, then back down round the hips and behind to her butt. She catches their reflection in the mirror across the room. She sees the way her dress flows with the music, with their moves, in perfect synchronicity. She draws her closer.

And you’re like a rose that blooms in my garden
Innocent and sweet, my love you are

The feel of her, her breath, her scent makes her heady. No, she mustn’t lose focus. She dances them back to the turntable. She sits down to queue more music. Her wife continues to dance. Time to pick up the tempo, just a little. Set aside the slow jams for a while.

Moyo wangu ni mwepesi,
Nafanya vituko kama chizi,
Sura yako mzuri mama, Aaaah

Her wife looks at her, smiles, pauses and begins to chakacha. She picks up a kikoi from the sofa, ties it around her hips and moves. Quick, then slow and in short staccato moves.

You are my African Queen, the girl of my dreams.
You take me where I’ve never been
You make my heart go ting-a-ling-a-ling, oh ahh

She picks up the pace. Back and forth, around and around, side to side.

Your love dey make my heart do yori yori
Nobody can love you the way I do

She makes her way to the turntable, twirling here, stopping there, three steps forward, one step back.

Na this thing make people dey say,
I don lose my sense my brain
But nobody can stop me from loving you,
am with you ma love love

Time to let the lyrics say what’s on her heart.

When your legs don’t work like they used to before
And I can’t sweep you off of your feet
Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?
Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?

Her wife now sits astride her, facing her. She closes her eyes and she feels lips on hers. The sweet, familiar taste of her tongue.

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars
Place your head on my beating heart
I’m thinking out loud
Maybe we found love right where we are

Her hand slides under her dress. And finds, the time is right to make a baby. As she stands she lifts her to her feet, takes her hand and leads her upstairs to the bedroom.

First published on her blog WomynPolitiks

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