Chapter 122

***Kenya.***

***March, A few months earlier***

A week since I last saw Hank. I didn't mind.

My body still strummed with confusion, whenever I recalled how he had made me feel. I couldn't understand it. Pleasured, even when I didn't want him.

Andrea didn't know I was a virgin. I didn't tell her because I was scared of being mocked. I was very self-conscious about my sexuality. Yet, I was aware I needed to talk to someone.

Giving Andrea furtive glances as we strolled down the curb, while she talked about her sex last night with Mike, I talked.

"Andy, when you were a virgin, how did you feel the first time you had sex?" I pasted an indifferent look, but my insides warred. I was hoping she didn't pick my meaning.

"Why? How did you feel the first time you had sex?" She playfully threw back. My words faltered.

"MyMy body was singing," I said, hesitantly. She gave me a look that said, '*Seriously*?' I turned my eyes away. Didn't want to be obvious.

"Kenya, that means the guy did a lousy job, if your body sang. *What about the initial pain*? The slow and sweet transition into the first waves of pleasure. What about the way your cum pooled inside your thighs with a quivering sensation, when he touched you down there?" Her eyes lowered south.

*So that describes the feelings I was having that night. Quivering sensation.*

The internet articles didn't do much justice. I couldn't believe that pleasure could feel that way. So wrong and yet good. Seeing Andrea's expectant gaze, I fished for something.

"Perhaps the guy did a lousy job." I felt guilty sending Hank out that night.

I should have asked him questions about what he was doing. I should have been patient. Perhaps he was right in thinking the relationship was one sided.

We reached my stop and I kissed Andrea as she got a cab home.

It was Friday and we just closed from Byron's minutes ago. As I sat in the bus, I thought about surprising Hank at his work place. Perhaps he would give us another chance, once I explained everything to him.

When I got to his work place, everyone yelled Hank and I was surprised he was very popular. I caught sight of Marlon and Chase, his best buddies, giving me dirty looks. I didn't like those two. They gave me odd vibes, whenever I was around them. We met a couple of times, whenever Hank and I ate here.

Actually I didn't just like the way they looked at every girl. They had this 'let's-fuck- expression.'

Then they'd undress the girl with their eyes, just like they were currently doing. Just like Hank had done.

"Kenya?"

I turned sharply to Hank's voice. He regarded me with a guarded expression. I contritely lowered my eyes, before I raised them again.

"Can we talk in private, please."

He was in his full chef garb. Black suit, black apron. Black, small hat. I never saw him in his uniform before. He looked cool and organized.

Looking behind me for a second, he nodded his head and led me to the kitchen. Some of his colleagues greeted him as we walked by and he responded in the same enthusiasm.

Pulling out a set of keys, he led me into a cool room that had shelves and shelves of vegetables. A food storage.

I looked around, while he grabbed a barrel and sat down. His eyes on me like that, I suddenly felt all those sweet aches Andy spoke about.

"I wanted to say am sorry." I started. He raised a brow. Silent. I swallowed. Hank had this no tolerance look on his face, making him unapproachable.

"I'm a virgin. So I didn't know what you were trying to do I was confused." I saw his eyes widen a bit, before he lowered them to my southern zone. "Please, give us another chance. I really like you. I just needI need this right. And I'm sorry I was leading this one way. I guessI guess I was being cautious." I was shaking.

He looked at me, his eyes morphing to fascination.

Quietly, he rose closing the gap between us. His hands came to cup my face. Tender strokes of his thumb followed his action. He sought permission with his eyes, before he kissed me full on the lips.

"I haven't thought of anything else but the way you tasted that night. I wanted you so bad this past week. But I needed to respect your space." He was kissing the sides of my mouth now.

I let go of my fear and hesitance and just allowed him. Pulling him closer. I fingered his cap, smiling into his lips. I was touching a chef's hat. I felt, powerful.

We kissed and he didn't press me like that night. This time he was gentle, sweet. There was no rush in his kiss. Just quiet, soft. His phone rang in his pocket and he growled inside my mouth.

Reluctantly, Hank answered the phone.

"Yes Sir. Tonight? But we only have a few hours before night time. How do we make that kind of exclusive, full course dinner for such a large number in such short time? Alright Sir. I'd get right to it." He hung up, seething.

"What happened?" I asked him, concerned.

"It's these damned politicians. Some of Ruthford's party members, who just returned from overseas, want to host an exclusive dinner to celebrate him." He spat. "Can you imagine that. It's boys' night with my pals." He looked really cross. I didn't know how to ease him. However, he was a great chef. I had tasted his cooking.

"How about when you finish, I treat you to a night in my place, tomorrow." I offered. He had a wary gaze. I knew what he was thinking.

Seconds later, Hank gave me a wolfish smile, picking me up. Kissing and tickling me.