“You want to see it here and now?” I asked as I watched her stroke me, her fingers going to and fro.
“Are you shy?” she asked tracing a finger along the length of my whatchamacallit.
“Do you think I am?” I asked easing off and pulling my shorts down.
“Let’s go home,” she said as she stroked my throbbing member.
Her house was about four minutes away; an all-white, twin pillared thing that looked like it had been uprooted from Bel Air and dropped in Lekki. There were magnificent coconut trees waving lazy branches in the wind and a huge glass wall rising the whole two stories.
I didn’t have time to take in the house because Morenike was on fire. She practically dragged me by the hand and raced upstairs the moment we got out of the car. She had her top off and was tugging at my shorts as we got to her room.
I pulled her close as we stepped through the waiting area and my lips had just touched hers when a voice chimed up.
“Surprise, Surprise Mum.”
“Mummy, mummy,” the pretty young woman who had jumped off the bed screamed as she stood over her mother.
“Hold on, hold on,” I said bending over the unconscious woman. “I think she fainted.”
“And who the fuck are you?” She asked taking in my wet tee shirt and fast disappearing erection.
“A friend,” I said raising my head to look at her. “Get me a wet towel and a bowl with some water. I will lay her on the bed.”
I picked Morenike up from the floor and lay her on the bed, taking care to cover her bare breasts. Then I placed a pillow under her ankles to prop up her feet.
The young woman was still scowling when she brought the towel and bowl and I was just about to wipe Morenike’s face when her eyes fluttered open.
“Mummy, what happened to you?” The girl cried and hugged her mum, upsetting the cover and baring those lovely boobs.
“Bose, you want to kill me, ehn?”
“Sorry mummy, I wanted to surprise you, I didn’t know you had company.”
That was when Morenike turned to look at me.
“Can you leave us please, sorry,” she said to me as she made herself decent.
Gone was the horny woman in jogging threads. Here was a fifty something year old woman suddenly confronted by her mortality and mortified to have been caught getting frisky by her daughter.
I waved self-consciously and found my way downstairs. The meigadi opened the gate to let me out and I walked all the way back to my car, thankful that it was just a fainting spell and not something serious. How would I have explained it if she had died?
When I got home, I hugged Cynthia so tight she asked what was up.
“I missed you,” I said when our embrace broke.
“Missed me? You’ve been gone for less than two hours,” she said.
“I know, I know,” I flung across my shoulder as I stepped into the bathroom.
Lekki-Ikoyi toll bridge is not for me.
