STIFLING LOVE
Maya Khankhoje
Jonathan's head was about to implode and his sweat saturated clothes clung to his burning skin. He tossed and turned on his sleeping pad, but somehow couldn't manage to settle down. The ground under his back was uneven and he could swear there were jagged rocks underneath. But that was impossible. He had carefully chosen his campsite close to the river and had cleared it with a machete, so that there would be no surprises. He wasn't afraid of tarantulas or insects or stuff, but there was no harm in playing it safe. In fact, he loved the way baby tarantulas slept cradled in flowers and was fascinated by the many shapes that insects took. But plants were his real passion. His job was done and he was now anxious to pull up stakes, trek to the outskirts of the jungle, pick up his jeep, drive for a few hours to Quito and catch a plane back to Montreal. And to hold Ana in his arms. My god, he was willing to burn in hell for that woman, which was certainly easier than burning in purgatory without her.
God
how he loved her, but her love for him could be stifling at times. She was
always fussing over him. The way she always insisted he take all his shots
and her going on and on about his malaria pills which he had promptly forgotten
to take once he got to the jungle. So much for meticulous planning.
He had really lucked out with Ana. At first his parents objected to her, on account of her being a Catholic and Italian at that.
"Ana Conti, what kind of a name is that for the wife of a good Jewish boy like you, Jonathan!" That was just like his mother. His father had rooted for him. "Ana Conti, Ana Conda, Ana Condom, I don't care, that woman is going to make my son lovely children. Just look how those hips sway, like a real dancer's. And that long slim body of hers!"
Jonathan had chuckled, but was afraid where this conversation could lead them. Little did they know that she had really been a dancer, and an exotic one at that. He couldn't care less that she had put herself through college by slithering up and down a post in that stupid bar he had gone to with the guys at work. He had been attracted to her because she was sexy, but her intelligence and spunk had finally won him over.
"Ana, Ana, my love," he moaned feverishly, while she wiped his forehead with a wet towel. "Come close love, god, how I've missed you these last few weeks. Come lie with me."
Ana lay beside him and started slithering her cool body up and down his sweat-soaked skin. The throbbing in his head began to melt with every stroke of her hand. Her silky skin cooled down his body. He was too listless to make love to her, so he just let her take over and went with the flow. Her touch sent shivers down his spine, throwing it into periodic spasms. Ana expertly coiled her arms around him, and wound her legs tightly around his hips and groin. Her tongue darted in and out of his mouth. She licked his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids, soothing him, comforting him. To hell with what others thought. He was in the arms of his woman. He would gladly die in them.
The following morning, they found his body close to the water, with an anaconda tightly wound around it.
THE END