Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Outbreak (04/07/11)
TITLE: Due Benevolence
By Justina Page
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Her present feelings were jumbled and disconcerting, nevertheless she found herself secretly anticipating the satisfaction the next night might bring; the few hours, or minutes, or seconds that soothed her womanly pride and filled the void that had developed in her heart and spirit. A hole filled with a lack of confidence, incertitude, and a growing jealously. Nighttime had transformed itself into a place of refuge from her insecurities. It was the only space of time where she felt like a real beautiful woman and a very desirable wife. In her dream world resided a confident lady with a deadly ability to attract, fulfill, and satisfy another man.
Angel felt her husband stirring beside her.
A gentle hand reached over and rested on her shoulder, “You awake sweetheart?”
Much like the pat an old chump would give a dear friend. Not like the caress of a man seeking fulfillment, like the…
She groaned inwardly, “Lord help me to bring my thoughts into subjection.”
“You alright?” he asked as he lifted to one side and planted a quick peck on the side of her face. She had no idea how to answer that. A sedate yes scurried from her mouth before the inconvenient truth had a chance to shout otherwise. Her husband arose from the bed untangling himself from the fray of the covers. Looking over at her he graced her with an enduring smile as he went about the business of starting his day.
Angel watched Desman in utter confusion. Unbeckoned questions began to flood her soul. How could a man with the commitment and care he had not see or understand? How could his friendly pat and quick peck compete with the passion and desire she was experiencing in her dreams? The more potent questions began to make their way to the forefront of her thoughts. If she was not fulfilled how could he be? Or was he? If Desman’s natural needs were truly met, then the mind boggling question was how and with whom? The elusive answer to that question was the fuel that drove her into a downward spiral of diminishing self-esteem. It ignited an irrational jealousy so tense that it frightened her to death.
Temptation flirted with her between the short space that Desman left for work and she lay in bed dreading the talk she knew she needed to have. Subtle inducements that mixed truth with fantasy, promising goods she knew could never be delivered. Flattering but base. The wages of sin is death. That she knew and was sure of. She had no desire to sabotage her marriage. All she desired was touch. Not the mere carnal contact of flesh to flesh but connection. The touch where due benevolence releases itself naturally. The connection a spiritual tie produces that has the fulfillment of natural desire wrapped inside of itself. What could she do and who could she talk to? Who would truly understand? Her spiritual senses awakened. God was her present help in the time of trouble. An outbreak of courage and faith was all she needed.
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