Mira opened her eyes slowly. There was a throbbing pain on her left arm. She tried to lift the arm but it felt heavy and stuck “arrgh” She turned her head to the other side to see why her hand wasn’t moving. She rolled her eyes as the event of the previous night came rushing back. She maneuvered her hand that was desperately crying for relief out of the body that looks one hundred and something weight of a snory man who looks peaceful in his sleep. “arrgh” she lifted her hand and there was a tingling and painful feeling that came with numbness. As she sat up her body began to shiver and she quickly got herself a robe from the wardrobe. She caught her reflection in the mirror that was beside the wardrobe wall and stood in front of it. For what seemed like forever she stood muted at the mirror looking into her eyes. She stared at every feature of her face running her tongue over her full pink lips. She’d always wished she’d had small lips. She’d suffer insults from her siblings while growing up. Her two brothers and three sisters knew the only insult that could make her cry was to say “Martha, Matthew’s wife” Talking about Matthew, she doubt if she could recognize the guy again. It’s been such a long time. Matthew’s family has a resembling big lips that’s really noticeable. Her siblings would make fun of Matthew’s family lips and say she’s supposed to be Matthew’s wife. She laughed at herself for those times she would sleep hungry and angry because of Martha, Matthew’s wife. She pressed her two lips together folding them in and out. Her hurt had made her invest in her lips. She never wears makeup without lining her lips to make it appear small. They had gotten pink over the years, thanks to constant lip care routine. Her gaze fell to her nipples, tossing the robe to her left shoulder, she cupped her right breasts. Her left hand still feeling numb, she left the right breasts and gently gave the left breast a squeeze. Being a stripper has brought out a part of her she didn’t know existed. It seems this is the life she was born to live. She twitched and turned and checked in details her body features feeling satisfied she wore her robe using just her right hand. She knows it’ll take a while for her left hand to heal. Grabbing her phone from the bedside stool careful not to wake Steph and the big man cuddled under the duvet she walked to the terrace. She opened the sliding glass door and stepped out into the balcony. The ornamental flowers blossomed around the railing. She stood admiring the view of the balcony facing the not too far away beach. “I just want to stay here forever” she thought. Finger-combing her red bone-straight hair, she took some selfies. Leaving her robe open to reveal a big amount of her cleavage, She took another picture and posted it on her instagram story with a caption “My house, My way”

Share this:

Like Love Haha Wow Sad Angry
Did you enjoy this story? Then pay a tip to subscribe to their email list and get premium, exclusive content from them

What do you think?

Join The Tell! Community

Read, and write on Africa's most creative community for writers, thinkers and storytellers

Get Started