So, there we were, my friends and I; Dapo, banker and Ikem, medical doctor, having a drink on a Sunday evening, poolside, at a lovely boutique hotel on the island.
We hadn’t met up in a while so we were all playing catch up.
Ikem was telling us about a female patient who came into his consulting room and stuck her nipple in his face.
“They are very nice,” I said to her. Then I raised my voice and said “Sister Irene, please come in. You should have seen her scrambling to tuck her wrinkled boobs back into her blouse.”
“Haba, how wrinkled can a breast be?” Dapo, who has a thing for boobs, asked.
“Even if it was not wrinkled I still wouldn’t have. I am a doctor na, a professional one at that,” Ikem said as he refilled his glass of wine.
“You are a doctor, abi. You weren’t a doctor when you shagged that babe last December. The one who came from the UK for Christmas?”
“Yes o, Dapo has a point,” I added giving Dapo the thumbs up. “What happened with that babe, lapse in professional judgement?”
“You guys are stupid sha. Because man na doctor he will not shag, scallywags,” Ikem said and we all burst into laughter.
I looked up and two pretty things that looked as if they had stepped out of a Vogue spread were just settling down two tables from us.
“How that Sheila girl you said you met?” Dapo asked smacking his lips.
“Cynthia,” I said.
“Yeah, that one. So, did you let her use her dildo on you,” Ikem asked and I turned to hit him.
“God punish you,” I said as he ducked from my blow
“Violence, man!” he said laughing. “She would have torn you a new arsehole.”
I sipped my drink while he and Dapo laughed. Cynthia was away in Dubai, something to do with work and I was free that weekend.
I had called up a shag-buddy, Simi, but the moment I said hi, she said “if you want to fuck, call someone else. I am fasting.”
“I just called to say hello,” I lied.
“You have said so, bye.”
Fasting my yansh! I mutterd under my breath as I cut the line.
I looked away from my friends and my eyes caught and held the second lady. She was pretty, with full lips and come-and-do eyes.
I smiled and waved. She waved back.
“Oshoko,” I said rising.
If there was something I have learnt in my years of interacting with women it is this; once you light a spark, let it blaze.
We shook hands and she said her name was Boye and the other lady was Kemi, her friend.
She had on a loose fitting top with black and gold floral patterns. It was worn so one side had slipped to bare lovely shoulders and the top of her left breast.
“Do you work with Hygeia,” I asked as I let go of her hand.
“No,” she said then smiled and asked: “Is that your pick up line?”
“Line? Oh no. I work in PR. We just got signed on by Hygeia and you looked like someone I saw there last week. See, why don’t you girls join us. We could use some brightness.”
Boye looked at Kemi who shrugged and that was how they rose and joined our table.
Two plates of prawns and another bottle of wine plus some flirting later Boye asked whether we knew where the conveniences were.
“I’ll show you,” I said making a great show of taking her hand and helping her to her feet. As we walked up the steps to the rest room, I put my arm around her waist and she let it rest.
It was a Sunday and there weren’t many people around, so as we stepped into the corridor that led to both the gents and the ladies, I pulled her, ever so gently into my cubicle and I hadn’t even shut the door when her lips found mine.
I kissed her back, my left hand slipping under her dress to grab a breast. Her moan was music and alarm, so I kissed her deeper to still her moans as I began to feel her under her short skirt.
She was bare; no panties, no bush. I slipped a finger in and felt her shiver and then she was grinding into me as I pressed my finger deeper and deeper.
Then someone banged on the door…
By Oshoko Bushushu