Agenda

Agenda.

That’s what Amalinze called it whenever he was up on the roof looking for her. It was that time of the month. He could smell her all over the house. It was the very smell that had made him cross the walls of the three houses that separated them with determination. Tonight was going to be special.

The last time he had tried to woo her, it had ended badly. Her guardian, a particularly sadistic boy, had almost stoned him to death.

“Swine!” the young man had called out at Amalinze, as he flung stone after stone. The word had hurt more than the stone to the gut could ever had. But this time would be different. This time, stealth was his modus operandi. He was one with the darkness.

She lay, her legs brazenly splayed on the corrugated iron sheets that constituted the roof of the house. She had heard him coming. She let out an expectant purr, and he felt his loins immediately respond. The sexual tension hit both of them in a palpable wave.

“You’ve been waiting for me,” he said as he walked towards her. The only sounds to be heard aside their voices were the muffled sounds from the television set inside the house, and the clapping of a distant generator.

“And you’ve been wanting me,” she replied coyly.

Amalinze didn’t hesitate. He pounced on her with a ferocity born of uncontrollable desire. He wasn’t himself tonight. She responded with an intensity that matched his, and it spurred him on even more. She was begging to be ravaged and it worked for him because he had no intentions of holding back. It was their first time together but it felt like it was not. There was no thought to their actions; everything seemed to happen by muscle memory. He bit and scratched and she bit and scratched, and he groaned, and she moaned, and then screamed. Had he been even remotely aware of himself he’d have noticed how her screams shattered the quiet of the night into a thousand pieces, but he was too focused on the job at hand. The agenda.

So focused that he didn’t hear the young man barge through the screen door to the house, eyes full of devilish intent as he searched for a stone. So focused that when the stone was flung with enough strength to kill him had it made contact, he didn’t even flinch out of the way. The stone missed him by a few inches and hit the iron sheets with enough force that the resultant sound caused Amalinze to jump straight into the air. His attention brought to his immediate surroundings, he flung himself out of harm’s way and run, leaving his completely ravaged and breathless lover in a flash.

“Swine!” he heard the young man call out at him. Amalinze chuckled. This guy was obviously a mad man.

Amalinze wasn’t a pig. He was a cat.

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