Skip to main content

Eyes Closed




It's 8 pm. I have been thinking about you. All day. 

Darkness is my partner. The sounds of generators working hard in various locations keep my company. I close my eyes to rest but pictures of you flash through my mind. 

I can feel myself in your arms. Your scent lingers on my nose. Your lips brushing mine as you tease me instead of kissing me. Your hands make their way all over my bosom but meet with the hardness of my bra. 

You're not deterred. You rip my buttons and make your way hungrily through my brassiere. I hear the clinking of the buttons as they litter the floor

Naughty boy. You couldn't care less.

I lie there moaning, tossing and turning like there was a snake in my loins. It pleases you. You whisper in my ear, asking if I love you.

Fuck yes, you fool.

You want to please me the more. You tell me you want me to scream till the neighbours hear. You want them to know you're the man. You put your hands in my loins and rub. Rub am, well well. Gently. Softly. Sweetly.

My alarm goes off. It's 8 am. I'm late to work. It's all your fault.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Ms. Producer

We had been fucking for four months. Boyfriend, girlfriends or side peeps, we did not care. We did not pry in each other’s lives and we did not take things farther. I loved him and he said he loved me. Everything was normal and uncomplicated.
Then he had to leave and I became lonely.
We talked every day and practically every minute but I was still lonely. I needed him there but it seemed like he was never coming back.
Then I made a beautiful mistake.
I had made two friends.
A producer and his joint.
We smoked up and cooled down.
Then we took our clothes off in ecstasy and committed a sin against my lover.
We made love and we climaxed. I had never climaxed.
Probably because things were different with the producer.
It was passionate, unlike what I had had with my lover.
My lover dominated me while the producer united with me.
Our mutual friend had enlightened us. He told us that we needn’t worry or care about the circumstances that held us apart. He told us to leave our inhi…

Trade by Barter

It started out as a conversation.
I and my friend were discontented about our financial status.
I talked about how pleasant it would be if I had ‘sufficient’ and steady income.
She talked about how she could not bring herself to ask men for money.
We talked about the Aristo Chics we knew that summed up enough courage to collect humongous amounts from their customers.
God was listening to our conversation. He had to make a comedy out of it, so he provided me what Unilag girls would call ‘opportunity’.
Later that day, I was buying yoghurt around Honours when a white jeep honked at me. I walked up to the car and saw that an old man (most likely older than my father) was the driver and only occupant of the vehicle.
“Good afternoon Sir”.
“Good afternoon my dear. Do you stay in this hostel?”
“No Sir.”
“Where do you stay?”
“Moremi Sir.” I lied, “Is there any problem Sir?”
“No my dear. I would just like to know you better. I want you to be my friend”
I could not help but laugh. It was …