Showing pages tagged "sex"
Snr Smooth's moniker since his Junior class was “Smooth” even the teachers called him “Smooth”; he was that kind of guy, ruddy cheeked, dark like his favourite Guinness stout beer, Hercules built, barrel chested, a smile that charmed the other sex, and lips that sang sweet tales of danger and mischief to his peers. His eyes dazzled in the sun light glinting of knowledge and bad behavior which he always got away with and well-trimmed finger nails that you could put anywhere.
Legend has it that he got his name from Mrs Ada the English teacher in his first year after he had told her “you’re the best thing I’ve seen this morning since slice bread”, and instead of flogging him, she looked at the then youngin with admiration and uttered the words that will forever be his, “Smooth”. As he promoted in college, the name became “S” to his peers as a tribute to his sins, “Snr. Smooth” to his underlings, and “Smooth” to his superiors.
My first ideas of pollution came from Snr Smooth, he who was never out of his way when any avenue of imparting his lessons of lewdness availed itself. He considered it his fatherly duty to school me in the affairs of the world in which I was dangerously naïve of. Knowing no vice, I feared none.
Like a pupil true to his tutor, I soaked every word from his lips like gospel truth, and absorbed his dictates like the commandments. I was a lesser being where he stood. Imagine to yourself, a boy of eleven, small for his age from the legacies of malnutrition, acne covered face, and a shifty eye that bulged out of their sockets like I was being strangled. Yet I was the chosen protégé of Snr Smooth, he praised me highly before his peers as a being modelled after his intellect and tongue; and he said “You my boy have the gift of the silver tongue, you may not have the looks, but what man needs money when he can make a woman smile?”
My tasks at his hands were first elementary, I delivered letters he wrote. I watched his sleek cursive movements on rose scented papers, and crammed his wrist flicks to become mine and in no time, I could draw words on paper in such perfect manner that I graduated in post to his official letter writer. A post much coveted and created specially for me; a post which allowed me to learn words necessary for wooing, and gave me the impetus to speak sounds of adulation to the fairer sex.
At this time, all the tyranny and fears of girls in me was reduced to nothing but a trickle which still worries me even now. Memories of those dark days still flash in my mind, and I marvel at how far I have come.
Allow me to proceed with my remembrance of my first kiss, which I dare say Smooth had a hand in preparing me for. My lesson lasted every free hour of a fortnight as I had to conclude other chores before learning this art. I was instructed from appearances down to conversations, sitting positions and of course how to do the deed. In my mind, such a precious act should be performed together with the one who holds your heart, (Plangnan of my primary school days). The hands of fate however pointed a different direction. Snr Smooth had several ideas, and as the tutor, he shared his knowledge and strategems with me in bits. The thing is, Smooth didn’t want me to botch my first kiss so he made plans. His arrangements resulted in me having an unofficial first kiss, and an official first kiss, a conundrum that brought out in me my true Casanova. My unofficial first kiss was with a senior named Beauty, she wasn’t really a beauty but she had a beautiful heart and Smooth had a soft spot for her. In his words, “I won’t risk your first kiss to stories, we shall test your aptitude practically and correct all flaws, I want your reputation to grow".
It was on a dark Saturday night, cladded in hoods as dodgers hiding away from evening devotion, we huddled ourselves in the infirmary and so my learning began. She took me by the hand and placed her lush soft lips on mine. I never noticed, but Snr. Beauty’s lips were beautiful and made for more than just eating and talking; they also defied the harmattan that was cracking the whole school’s lips and heels. As she sucked on my tongue, the fervor made me feel a rise in tide in my nether regions; my breath was being taken away but there was palpitating life down there.
As I returned the favour with the energies of eager learning and floods of bliss, I added twists of my imaginations learned from Smooth’s tales and her eyes lolled and rolled with a tinge of surprise and excitement tingling and coursing through her body, bringing with it passions of pleasure she was well familiar with. As all the tyranny of pleasure ebbed out of my body, the agonies of fading delight overwhelmed me, I was left flustered in all areas with a lingering feeling on the verge of sprouting forth those liquid thrills common to our over excited sex at the point of reaching apogee. Life as I knew it had just taken a turn, the new knowledge in me surged and wanted more, driven by a desire for finding things hitherto unknown to me.
I received high praises from Smooth who had witnessed this initiation solemnly like the High Priest of Casanova’s temple, presiding over the sacred rites of passing the mantle to a new found and worthy disciple.
Explicit content. please login to read
"My rules are simple. I don't do feelings. I don't share. And Never keep me waiting."
What the hell have I got myself into?
I woke up to a splitting headache on the 21st in the most uncomfortable bed I have ever slept in and had no recollection of the night before. All I could recall was being bent over Tega's desk.
Before that, I was at my cubicle putting the finishing touches on FLINT - my dream elite dating site idea. Thankfully the curtains were drawn and the lights off. My eyes stung and they felt like someone poured gravel inside.
What happened last night?
Persistent knocking on the door forced me out of the covers. I was naked and sore all over.
What the fuck happened last night?
I used the covers to wrap myself and answered the door. It was room service. The lady said she brought in breakfast as instructed. It was a complete English breakfast with coffee. I was grateful for the coffee and gulped it down. The burning liquid cleared some of the gravel in my eyes but not the growing fear in my heart.
My phone was on the bedside drawer. It was 7:00 am. There was a note telling me to check the wardrobe for a change of clothes and see you at work.
I was lodged at Shard, which was a stone throw from the office. The place was hidden but really beautiful. If you did not know about the place, you did not know about it. I clocked in and went to Wuse 11 market to meet Hajara.
If I was going to get through tonight with Pastor Mike, I needed help. I sat in the backroom in her smoke chair and forced myself to focus on Pastor Mike. My body felt like I had been forced into a gravel mixer. Everywhere hurt. Inside and out. I drank Hajara's special Kayan Mata mixture, got some pills and headed back to the office.
Back in the office, there was a note waiting for me on my desk.
"My rules are simple. I don't do feelings. I don't share. And never keep me waiting." It was from my boss- it was the same handwriting as the one on the bedside drawer. I tried to focus on my work but I could not. Two phrases kept chasing themselves in my head.
"You belong to me." "I don't share."
What was I to do? Pastor Mike had given me 3 million naira which was going a very long way in helping my family out of its woes. Tega on the other hand had my life in his hands. This was a dream job. It provided me with the level of security I needed. Plus he was not the kind of man to mess with at all. Would Pastor Mike be able to help me if I quit my job? What if I told Tega I was not interested in being with him? Did he not give me his word that he will not fire me if I fucked him the way he wanted?
I tried to push all except pastor Mike from my mind but try as I did I kept wondering what happened last night? How did we move from his office to Shard? Where there other stops before then? Where did I get the bruising on my body? How did he get the clothes for me and in my size? A beautiful flower print top with a black pencil skirt and red bottoms.
Moreover what is with the cryptic cold handwritten messages? Did he not know we live in the 21st century? But try as I might, I kept drawing blanks.
I called Pastor Mike and he busied my call. I texted him to call me when he got a chance. After work, I went to see a few houses that my "agent" had scouted for me.
My budget was 800k. I could move to 1 million if the place was worth it. So far; none of the places I had visited met Pastor Mike's liking. It was either the location or the lack of light, security or a combination of all. These new houses were in Gudu.
The first house was a boy's quarters that looked like the former landlord was a herbalist or something. The walls all over the house were blackened with spots I hoped was not dried blood. The second house had one toilet in the master bedroom and none in the other room or for guests and the ceiling was so low. I literally had to bend to enter.
The third house located just a street before a lovely looking cafe called out to me. The street was a quiet picturesque place with trees lining up the nicely tendered lawn. The buildings here looked new and well-tended. The rooms were sizeable with three toilets. One in each room and another for visitors. It was located on the second floor and boasted a 24-hour water supply and the sitting room area had a lovely view of a lake.
The only problem was the house was going for 1,700,000.00 and if I wanted the place I had to pay two years upfront.
It was 6:22 pm and Pastor Mike had not replied to my message or called me. I called again and this time it rang out, no answer. Did he know about last night? Was he alright? I did not like the silence one bit.
'I will be coming by in an hour. Be ready."
It was a message from Tega. I was grateful the house was empty. The girls had gone to church and will not be back till around nine. Hopefully, I would have handled this particular problem of mine.
I did not bother to dress up or get ready - whatever that meant. I go run am street today. Abụ m ada nne m. Amughi m ewu.
He arrived 5 minutes to 7pm. I watched him drive up to the house. Who told this man where I live? He still had his grey suit from work. The tie was gone and the first two buttons were unbuttoned. I came out before he knocked. As soon as he saw me his countenance changed. His upper lip curled into a snarl and his eyes became hooded. In the dark, he looked like he was merging with the darkness. Growing bigger. My heart went cold. Who is this man bayi?
"I said to get ready."
He said the words slowly, biting the words making it sound like a slow hiss. There was no going back. I tried to stand straight - all six feet two inches to show I was unafraid but I knew every fibre of my being was screaming RUN!
"I did not feel the need to."
I ignored the tremor in my voice and stared into his face. He was staring back with disbelief. I guess nobody ever questioned his command before. Well... here was always me.
The snarl slowly disappeared and the darkness surrounding him receded. He gave a wryly smile and nodded his head. Without a word he turned and went back to his car. I stood and watched him drive off. I began to tremble as he turned the corner. Jesus Christ!. What was that?
I jumped at the sound of my ringtone. It was Pastor Mike. He was in church but he was not leading the service. He wanted to know how I was. I assured him I was fine but he did not believe me.
"Text me your address, after church I would come and see you."
He cut the call before I could object. What is it with this Abuja men na? I did not text him and I switched off my phone before another godforsaken message would enter my phone.
What am I to do?
By 9:30pm Jegede and Stephen busted into the apartment in excitement. I was not in the mood and stared blankly at them. I was watching Home Alone part 2. Childhood movies were my go-to source of balance. It took me back to when things were good. To when My father would take us all out whenever he got back from the sea and when we got home in the evenings, he would allow us to stay late and watch all the American films he always brought with him. I always looked forward to his coming home. Mama did not flog us and we ate ice cream and chocolates till our stomachs hurt.
They kept staring and I just wanted to get back to my happy place.
Jegede enthused. I rolled my eyes and played back my movie. I was not in the mood for guessing games. If they had fainted under anointing or even spoken to Jesus personally that was their business.
"Wetin dey worry you? dem dey ask you make you guess you dey behave like wet fowl." Stephen chided.
"If una no go talk abeg go find wetin to cop leave me alone. I no get time to guess anything today."
"Mtcheeeeewwwwwwww. Biko comot go meet ‘YOUR OGA’ pastor. Him dey outside."
Stephen shot at me as she walked to her room. I did not miss the stress on “your oga pastor.” I looked at Jegede who was all smiles. Pastor Mike was here? Wetin dey work these men na? First na Tega now Mike? In one day?
I walked out to see him standing by his car. He was wearing a grey suit on a white shirt. His tie was missing and the two top bottoms were undone. Just like Tega. I forced my mind to focus on the present. His smile was small. Almost unsure and I was in his arms before my mind knew what my legs were doing.
He tactfully dodged my kiss and set me back on the ground. He held my shoulders to still me and he looked me over. "Are you doing okay?"
I melted at the concern thick in his voice. Now I was okay. I did not realize how much the past months had taken a toll on me. My eyes stung with relief. There was no yesterday, no tomorrow. Just me and this man that had come to mean so much to me in so little time.
"Your roommates are watching."
"Let them. You coming here has already nailed our coffin."
His laughter was sunshine to my very bleak day. His shoulders heaved as he laughed. I watched him and something deep in my woman uncurled. My pussy walls clenched and unclenched along.
"I am no stranger to rumours. Did you get a place?"
"I did but the rent is 1.7 million oooo. Including service charge and all, but that I have to pay for two years".
"Do you like the place?"
"Yes. And you will love it too! It is quiet and peaceful. Away from the noise and hustle of the city and It is very secure. There is private security for the estate."
I could not contain my joy. The house is beautiful. Mama would love it. And Peace can finally come and stay with me. I want here to write WAEC and if she passes she will sit for JAMB. It was exactly what I wanted. Plus it was about 30 minutes into town so I could still go to work and do all the city things I needed. He silently watched me gush about the place. That is something about him that I love, the way he listens and provides. He somehow makes me feel secure.
"Let us go there."
"What!! by 10:00pm? No now.
"Call your agent and tell her you want to see the place this night. How did you find her?"
"From Facebook ooh. She puts the houses on Facebook. That is how I met her."
And I did. 30 minutes later we were standing inside the apartment looking out to the lake. He looked so handsome in the faint light coming from outside casting an ethereal feel to him. I studied him as we moved from room to room. He looked preoccupied as if fighting some unknown battle and I just wanted him to take me right here in the cold empty room. To bury whatever was bothering him deep inside me and forget it.
He asked Peace- the agent to leave the keys and to expect an alert by morning. I allowed them to talk and went back to the room where the pallor would be. This would be my home. I did not know how to react. How did I get so lucky? I looked back at him and wondered how he would react if he knew that this whole thing began because I wanted to fuck him.
Maybe Jegede and Stephen were right and I am heading straight to hell complete with bodyguard and AC. I was back at the window overlooking the lake and I could not hold back the tears. I felt his hands hold me and I lost all control. I cried at my betrayal. I cried for seducing a man of God. I cried and he held me firmly.
"Do you want to tell me what is going on?"
We drove back to my place in silence. He had comforted me but did not ask any questions. When the crying stopped he took me back to the car and drove away.
"I do not know. The money, now the house. Nobody has ever done anything for me like this. It is just overwhelming." There was no need to mention Tega or the gnawing guilt I was feeling. He studied me for a minute before speaking.
"I care deeply about you Joy. There is something about you that gets me. I feel like I can be myself. Truly be me around you."
We sat in his car and spoke about random things until it was 2am. I watched him drive out and waved till he turned the corner.
"My office. Now."
I ignored the message and continued what I was doing at my cubicle. If he wanted to talk to me he would have to come down from his high horse and speak like a normal human being. I no dey do.
I half expected to be turned back from the gate. I got Janet the office gossip a box of assorted cookies and milked her of all the information I could get. So far there was nothing about anybody getting fired and nothing about the tryst in his office either. He was going on a trip she said with his long time on-again-off-again girlfriend to the UK. I prayed he would get stuck in some sinkhole and leave me be.
Joan; his lanky assistant came to summon me. I told her I would be right behind her but she said I was to follow her immediately.
The inside of the office was empty and cold just like the owner. There was no carpet, just cold black tiles sprinkled with white tiny stars. The AC was on full blast. I shivered. Apart from the large imposing desk, there was a settee, a side drawer with a lamp and some documents on it then a fridge.
He was standing by the open fridge when he commanded us in. He dismissed Joan and told her to hold his calls.
"Miss Macauley" He began without looking at me. His voice very cold and professional. That put me off guard. I was expecting a showdown and I had come prepared. "Following our earlier agreement, you would be placed on a 20% salary increase which would move you up to the position of junior creative director. This does not usually come with any other incentives but having gone through your file I have decided to give you an official car.”
"Thank you, sir. But I respectfully decline the offer as I have no recollection of said agreement."
He was back behind his desk and he studied me closely trying to gauge if I was lying. Then he whistled and came to stand in front of me.
"How much of that night can you remember?"
"Not so much sir. And I would rather never to remember."
"Now I feel like an arse, Miss Macaulay. And that rarely happens." He looked so young up close.
"Would you like something to drink?"
"I shook my head but did not speak. I could feel the build-up of tears and I did not want to turn into a hot mess in front of this man. How did he go from threatening me last night to offering me a 20% salary increase including an official car? What exactly was his game?
Well, whatever it was, I do not want a part of it.
"Listen, I am very good at reading people and giving them what they want. All this time, I felt we were on the same page now I know better. The salary and official car have nothing to do with what happened the other night even though you did drive a pretty hard bargain. So, if you would not see it as some insult as with everything else that I have done, it is yours."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then you refuse." He shrugged and turned to his computer screen. After a moment he turned back to me. "Miss Macaulay, I do not know what you know about me but I assure you that I am not a vindictive person. I very well know how to draw the line between business and everything else".
Now, I felt like the arse. Of course, I want the pay rise, and the new position means I can put some of my creative ideas on actual display. I have worked hard. Never taken sick days or come late or not given my hundred per cent.
"I do not remember the events of the other night yet I feel it hanging over my head. I am not this girl. I was high and drunk and I don't know what happened, But I promise you that is not normal behaviour for me." I took a deep breath to steady myself. I was not going to cry or grovel or beg. "I deserve this promotion and I want to get it the right way."
"Okay, and how would be the right way?"
"definitely not because I fucked you right."
I struck a nerve. The snarl was back. I saw a flash of that look close to my face. I felt the hot breath of whiskey on my face and I felt him deep between my spread legs. The images hit me and I stumbled backwards.
"Are you okay?"
"How about this. There is a review coming up in the next three months. External reviewers would be in charge so you don't have to worry if fucking me right would affect the review one way or the other. Would that make you feel better?"
"Then it is settled."
"Thank you, sir."
Nothing felt settled as I went back to my cubicle. We fucked alright but that was not the problem. It was how the images made me feel. Why was my body covered in goosebumps? Why was my pussy wall clenching from the memory flash? Plus after the conversation in his office, I was not so sure what I felt about his guts.
Janet was at my desk when I returned.
"What is going on? This is the third time you have been up there to see Oga."
"My dear e taya me oooo." She had given me gist and was here to collect. Whatever I said or did not say would circulate in a matter of minutes.
"You know that is how Sade got fired. She started going into his office frequently and before you know it, she was fired. Some people said he got tired of her if you know what I mean."
Everybody knew about Sade. She had tried to seduce him and got fired for it. Her father was rich and well connected and she thought that would work in her favour. She thought wrong. He had called an emergency meeting and dragged her by her pubic hairs.
He had used her as an example to all those who may want to seduce him to gain any advantage. The next week, she was gone. Did Janet know more than she was telling or was she trying to get me to say something?
"Ehen? I thought she left because she got admission in the UK na."
"Lai lai. Na Oga finish am throw for side like old rag. She just lucky say her papa get money ni."
"E good to get money for this life ooo!"
I punched my keyboard and prayed she would take a cue and leave my cubicle. If she got the hint, she did not act on it.
"You know say review dey come up soon ba. Make you sha play your cards well my dear."
"Mama, which cards I get to play? Oga was only following up on the campaign rollout we worked on. Nothing else."
"I hear you."
Of course, she knows about the review and the way she brought Sade's gist? I might as well go up and fuck him to my heart's content. Because whether I get the promotion or not, it will be because I did or did not play my cards right.
Follow Shitoto.com to access their premium contents