I have been living in Lagos for over nine years now. I came here after NYSC and was among the lucky few who did not wait too long to get a job and the moment I did, my auntie whom I lived with decided that I had to pay all their bills and how much was I earning, sef? N100,000.
When I complained she accused me of trying to sleep with her husband and asked me to leave.
That was how I moved in with my friend who lived in a one-bedroom in Fola Agoro. I did not realise her boyfriend practically lived with her and tired of listening to them make love every night, I borrowed money from colleagues and moved into my own place.
God has been good. I made progress at work, got my masters at Pan African University, changed jobs twice and suddenly I had a high paying job with a lovely SUV.
So, you pray and pray for success and then when it comes, some demonic man is waiting in the wings with their sweet tongues to steal your joy.
The first one was a colleague who wore dreadlocks. Everyone thought he was smart and I actually considered myself lucky when “he chose me”. Can you believe it? I said he chose me.
He was good in bed, was romantic when he wasn’t being an asshole but as smart and intelligent as he was at work he could never take care of his finances. He shopped non-stop online and was always in debt.
After he borrowed the second million naira from me without paying back a dime, I decided to borrow myself brain and end it.
Then I met Aniekan, suave, sexy and blessed with a big D but he could lie for Africa. If Aniekan said good morning, check your wrist watch.
We dated for about six months and it was three months after he moved in that I realised we were not really living together; we were just living a lie.
So, I kicked him out and I was ready to remain celibate when everything changed.
I had been invited to the 40th birthday a senior colleague’s birthday party.
“Come o, you will meet fine bobos and not all these your Yoruba demons,” she teased when she called to remind me.
It was Saturday and already past 5pm. I had forgotten and so hadn’t bought anything. Pulling on a t-shirt over shorts, I slipped into a pair of slides and headed out. There were a few boutiques around my area in Anthony Village.
I had gone to two and was getting tired when something said check that other one. So, I parked and got down.
It was like a buffet of LBDs. Everywhere I looked, there was a lovely Little Black Dress and all of them had size 10.
I had tried on the third one and was ooahing and aaahing as I swirled around in front of the mirror when I noticed the man who was seated and admiring me.
“Buy all three,” he said. “You look gorgeous in them.”
Buy all three ke, is it food, I said under my breath.
“Madam it’s true, they all look fine on you,” the sales girl said. “Uncle George is right.”
Family people want to use my head, I said to myself even though I knew the clothes looked nice on me.
“Your uncle wants to help you sell market,” I said as I disappeared into the changing room to take off the dress.
The man was waiting when I came out. He was standing now and I could see he was easily over six feet tall and as handsome and buff as they come. His t-shirt seemed like a second skin and you could see the outline of his toned thighs from his skin tight jeans. He looked yummy and I have a sweet tooth.
“So, how much is this one. I have a party tomorrow and I need just one,” I told the sales girl.
“How much last?”
“30k last, ma.”
“I will pay 20.”
“N27k last, ma.”
It was a dance and all women know how to do it.
It went on for a while then she said she would call her madam. She did and then said “N25k, last.”
I gave her my ATM card. She inserted it in. After the third decline, I decided to go across the street to the ATM.
By the time I came back, Uncle George was gone and the girl had packed the three dresses for me.
“Uncle George has paid for all of them,” she said smiling.
“Paid for all of them how?”
“He said they all looked good on you.”
My first impulse was to reject the dresses but they looked oh so gorgeous.
“Do you have his number?” I asked and pronto she produced a card. It was clear she was waiting for me to ask.
When I got home, I sent him an SMS to say thank you.
“You are welcome. Enjoy your party,” was his reply and I thought that was that.
But then I walked into the party on Sunday dressed in one of the black dresses and guess who I saw drinking wine by the entrance.
“Good evening, Uncle George,” I greeted as he looked me over. He had a dimple in his right cheek. I hadn’t noticed the first time.
“Look at this angel in black,” he teased as he kissed me on both cheeks.
He looked dapper in a well cut black suit and white shirt. He didn’t have a tie on and I could see a sprinkling of grey hairs from his unbuttoned collar.
“I am really grateful for yesterday,” I said as he stopped a waiter and handed me a flute.
“Ok, you need to stop the thank yous. I saw you try them on and it would have been a shame if you didn’t buy them. Plus, my ex-wife owns the boutique. I have to help her hustle.”
I began to say thank you again but he put a finger to my lips and hushed me.
“How do you know Daphne?” He asked instead.
Daphne was the celebrant and a senior colleague of mine, I explained.
“She is my cousin,” Uncle George said.
“Yes, way,” he said and laughed.
He was 55, divorced with two kids who were in school abroad. He owned a real estate business with estates in Lagos and Abuja.
“You don’t look 55,” I said and it was a genuine compliment.
“Thanks. Blame it on good genes and exercise,” he said and just then Daphne breezed in.
“Ah, Uncle George I see you are already seducing my friend. Ebiye, don’t listen to him, come and meet better young bobo.”
She took me by the hand and introduced me to a few young men in over tight trousers and sporting thick beards but I was not interested. I could still smell Uncle George’s perfume, I could still see his dimple and I liked how soft and firm his hands were when he took me by the hand and walked me to a lounge seat. I was tired of fast-talking young men always borrowing money then turning around to cheat on you.
So, two days later when Uncle George invited me out to dinner, I did not think twice before saying yes and I was surprised to find out he lived in GRA Ikeja, not far from me.
Dinner was at his house and the table had been set for two.
“Why don’t you live in Ikoyi or VI?” I asked as we drank wine by candle light on the balcony.
“Ikoyi has lost its allure but VI and Lekki are for show offs. I like GRA because it still has that grandeur but the main reason is because,” and he leaned close to whisper in my ears. “It’s close to the airport. I don’t want to wake up at 5am just so I can catch a 7am flight. Don’t tell anyone o.”
I laughed and he joined me then when I looked up his handsome face was bearing down on mine. His kiss was soft, feathery but sure. We kissed for a while and then we set down our glasses and I allowed him lead me to his room.
It was a man’s cave done up all in black with black and white zebra stripes bed sheet. He stopped by the foot of his bed and unzipped my dress. I let it fall, I had no bra on and my nipples were already hard.
As he flicked his tongue over the left nipple and took it in his mouth I felt a frisson of electricity run through me. I wanted him badly.
He lay me face down on the bed and then he kissed me all the way from the nape of my neck to the small off my back, over my bum before disappearing in between my legs. I felt him part my panties and I could feel his tongue flipping over my lips.
“You taste good,” he murmured as he parted my legs.
“Take me,” I whispered unable to bear it any longer.
There was a brief interval as he took of his clothes and spread my legs then he slid into me like a hot knife cutting through butter. He pushed all the way in until I gasped with the pleasure of it all but unlike all the fuck boys I was used to, he didn’t start huffing and puffing. No sir. He didn’t move; he just stayed still, his huge dick throbbing as it got acquainted with my wetness and then he began to move with slow, well timed and deliberate thrusts that set my insides on fire and made me come in less than three minutes.
Then he turned me over and as our bodies merged I realised that I had been eating mama put food all this time.
This was Michelin star restaurant gourmet level.