The last thing I remember was the blast. I sat up, looking around me, disoriented. My body feels itchy and salt water mucks my throat. I cough and sputter. I look around me, and I see nothing. Just miles and miles of seashore and sand and beach. What?! Where is the yatch? The captain? My husband? And most of all, Dele?!
As if conjured up by thoughts, I saw a lone figure jogging to my direction. Adrenaline kicks in and I began to wave and scream. The figure got closer and I could recognise the unmistakable gorgeous body of our help, Dele.
Dele. My nemesis. I remember his touch, his dominance. In all the years I've been married, the first time dele touched me was the only time i ever felt sexual pleasure.
My husband is a selfish bastard who cares about himself. Dele. I remember the first day I saw him. Servants were carting our luggage from the boot of the limousine, while I stood in a corner, supervising the process. He strolled up to me and introduced himself as the cook, guide and help during the yatch trip. Ooh la la, I thought then ,and ooh la la, I think now.
"Are you okay,?"he said. I nod in affirmation and he bent to inspect me. " What happened Dele?" I asked. "We were involved in a sea wreck and I guess we are trapped on this Island till help comes". He said gravely.
My heart skipped a beat." What?! How will we survive? What will we eat? What of shelter?! This Island looks barren" i said fearfully.
"Dont worry, I'd protect and provide for us. But be warned. This is not the life of luxury you live. This is far from it. We are trapped here and we have to survive till help comes" he said with a sad sigh.
I look down at myself. I'm sure I look like hell warmed over. My dress is in tatters and my tits are hanging out. As I surreptously tried to cover myself, I see his eyes rove my body.
It dawned on me. I'm trapped with Ogundele.