The sequel.

This is the final part of the story that I started in my last entry, it was inspired, again, by some real events and by own curiosities. So, please read and tell me what you think.

The sequel.

She called me, three times after that night, each time my head hurt and my fingers stilled. I did not dare answer. I was back here now, where I belonged.

We had not talked about it, but I caught him looking at me on numerous occasion, concern etched on his face. I could not bring myself to tell him, how do I explain that I had become a hybrid, neither here nor there? I came home last night to find him laying on the dark wooden floor, records in hand, he had Teddy Pendergrass' 'Love TKO' playing, nothing out of the ordinary about that. He looked up at me, a knowing smile on face, 'I was just you, know going through these, are you okay?' that was his new thing, asking me if I am 'okay' since that night, I had become something fragile, he spoke softly, walked lightly, yet I am the guilty one. His demeanour made me uneasy, he was ever the attentive fiancée, holding open doors, pulling out chairs, I managed for days, then weeks to stop thinking about that night, my moment of madness, and slowly, he too relaxed.

Friday night, freshly bathed, he was sitting at the end, he looked at me, desire swimming in his eyes, I smiled and made my way to my side of the bed, snugly tucked in, I prayed for sleep and hoped he'd do the same. I felt his calloused hand on my back, he moved closer, 'I miss you, I miss us' I sighed. He moved much closer, his hands came around my waist, 'Remi, what's wrong' he did not wait for my answer, I pushed back into him, he was already hard and I made up my mind to exorcise the ghost of that night, right then. I brought his hand my chest, 'touch me' he grew bolder, his breathing heavier, his mouth on my ear and the pleasure became so familiar, why had I stopped this, stopped him? I found his roaming hands, pushed him on his back and straddled him, my night shirt went over my head and I brought his hands to my breasts as our eyes bore into each other, his hand moved across my breasts, down to my navel and I stopped him, he sighed in frustration but I was determined to control this.

'Do you want me?' I do not know where I got the courage from, he squeezed my butt as a way of saying yes, his penis oozed precum and I knew he was as excited as I had ever seen him, I grabbed him, and tugged lightly, his breathing hitched, I touched the precum and brought it to my lips, his eyes grew, I knew what he was thinking, I had never done anything like this before.

I surprised myself with the boldness with which I brought him, rock hard into my mouth, 'oh God, Remi' I was strangely delighted, I was out of my comfort zone and I felt liberated, his hand at the back of my head, holding me in place, I had no idea how much he enjoyed this, I did not want to bring him to a climax yet, I eased him slowly out of my mouth and he pulled me up, his eyes held mine again, I knew there was so much he wanted to ask but his arousal rendered him incapable of thought, I straddled him again, this time I rocked myself on his abs, I wanted him to feel just how wet I was, he attempted to hold me in place but I caught his wrist in a loose grip, my need to be in control was overwhelming but I knew he was enjoying it, if only for tonight.

I grabbed him, I felt him tremble, I had him on the precipice and it drove me wild to see him, on his back, his face contorted in pleasure, I guided him inside me, took a minute to get used to the feeling and then I began to move slowly, my hands on his chest, my feet under his thighs, he moaned softly, 'oh God' I watched him, beads of swear running on his face, He grabbed my wrist, pulled me down and then rolled us over, he was now on top of me, his face, a cross between raw pleasure and anger, he started a slow deliberate kinda stroking, his mouth on mine, my hands around his head, he picked up the pace and I realised quickly how much I had missed this, my legs were far apart, slightly off the bed, toes curled.... we came together, he let out a guttural groan as my fingers dug into his shoulders.

Still breathing heavily, I attempted to hug him, he pushed me back, 'what' I asked, he laid there, lightly coated in sweat, breathing rythmlessly, he turned to me slowly, 'tell me who else has touched you' I looked at him, unsurprised by his question and unable to muster the strength to offer a denial, my eyes fell. I felt him get up, his penis still partially erect, he grabbed a pillow and walked out of our room, naked.

Being unfaithful.

I was inspired to write this little story by two bloggers in particular, I have always wanted to write it because it had been floating around in my head for a little while.. Anyway, enough of this preamble, you all read and tell me what you think. I want questions....lots of them. Alright, laters, I am going to see if i can get loosen the grip this credit crunch has on me..



Being unfaithful.

'Tell me to stop, tell me' she whispered into my ear, I wanted to oblige but I could not, I needed this more than I cared to admit and she knew.
Her mouth teased me, she nibbled lightly on my bottom lip and I felt my resolve crumble. How could I be doing this, with her! Her mouth moved to my throat and at that moment, no excuse I could think of would do, this is something else I wanted. Hands, soft and insistent coaxed me out of my cocoon, she turned me over and stretched over me, her breasts on my back, her hands in mine, 'I have wanted you for so long' she said the words so softly I was not sure she said them at all.

I accepted my fate, I was a prisoner to my passions, she let go of my fingers and I braced myself for what was to come. Her mouth, so sweet, wet kisses on my back, soft moans filled the air, I do not know if they came from me or her, she pushed her leg in between mine, 'tell me to stop now' I ignored the request as I turned myself around, she now hovered over me, hooded eyes looking at me with intensity, I reached for her. I needed her mouth on my mine again, needed to know I did not imagine the pleasure that she could bring, she kissed me, little kisses she knew drove me mad, her hand teased my breasts, she had me as taut as a bow, her mouth, I had never known pleasure like this, I had encountered it in other forms but not like this, my nipples painfully erect, she kissed me again and I wrapped my legs around her.

Wanting to be completely at one with this sweetness, her fingers made the painfully slow journey down, stopping to caress my hips, 'please' the word fell from me but I was desperate for her touch, I needed her to do something to douse the flames she ignited, she stopped to look at me, my eyes barely open, then she found me, thoroughly soaked for her, she played with my sowllen clit and I thought I would die. She took her hand way and I cried out at the loss, 'shhh' and she began another kind of descent, I knew this, her mouth has promised what she would do, I found it so hard to breathe, afraid I would die from this want need.

She stopped at my knees, looked up at me as parted my thighs, she smiled but I could not, I anticipated, that mouth, again, kissing her way up slowly, until, she parted me and I opened my legs wider, her tongue probing, her mouth kissing, I thought I would explode, her mouth found my clitoris, I grabbed her hair, my back arched as I thrust into her, she wanted to take her time, she brought me to the edge only to pull back, 'how do I explain this, where do I start?', those words crossed my mind as her fingers entered me, two, then three. She thrust into me slowly at first, then she increased her pace, I knew, like she did, I was close, her mouth enveloped my clit, she flicked her tongue over it and I shuddered as the spasms washed over me, my hands buried in hair.

She kept her mouth on me until my limbs went limp, shallow breaths pouring from me. My eyes still closed, she kissed me and I could taste myself on her, I could not move, my heart rate slowed to a pace I could bear. I looked at her, afraid to break the spell, 'what will you tell him' she asks, 'I don't know' I did not feel like myself, I felt exposed, parts that were dormant now hummed with pleasure newly discovered. I willed myself off her bed, she rolled onto her side to watch me dress, her head resting in her hand, 'don't feel too bad, I wanted it too' I let out a short burst of laughter, 'believe me, that is not the problem. it is what to do now I have had this, I am not a cheat, I do not do it, and now, I am covered in you, us' her eyes clouded over as I spoke, I ignored the look and went about searching for my left shoe. I said my 'goodbye' barely able to look at her.

I wanted the rest of the day to decide what to say, I roamed the city streets, looking at women, wondering if the attraction was about her or much more...... I felt nothing for all these women, their face, bodies, did not stir anything within. She has answered one question I did not know I had but she left me with so many more. I eventually made my way home and he was there, where I knew he'd be. I wanted to tell him I was sorry for causing him to worry, but he stood up pulled me to him, he sighed in relief. I hugged him back, desperately needing to chase the guilt away.

Random 10s x2

Things I do.

1. I really like blueberry muffins, cut into four, as a broke student, I ate this, only, for days on end.

2. I love being kissed by someone who know how ( I am a great kisser, yes I was told and I believe it...lol, the best kiss I have had so far was from....)

3. Shoes are a nascent passion of mine but as they say, pepper no rest and papa no be senator, so the passion remains theoretical.

4. I love languages, the different lilts, tones. My favourite language, (after my own) is Spanish.

5. I love books, my room is a mini library.

6. I watch foreign films without reading the subtitles first, then I watch again and I read them.

7. I am a sucker for dimples, I prefer one to two.

8. I love wearing matching underwear (as a matter of fact, I try to match always)

9. I have a young crush on a blogger.

10. I enjoy men who possess easy masculinity, not overt, just a quiet manliness, it is, after jazz, an aphrodisiac.


Things I do not.

1. I do not like sweet things, as a child, I would swap my sweets for ákárá or any other savouries.

2. I hate people who think because I am smart, I must be sexually repressed, the two things are in no way related.

3. I hate it when people say what exactly what they think, as it comes to them. Only children should speak their mind with little thought or concern for people's feelings. I appreciate honesty, Lord knows I make it my business to be honest when asked but people confuse being tactless (at best, and being damn cruel at worst) with being 'upfront'.

4. I hate plaintain, shock horror, this caused many hungry afternoons. I do not only hate plaintain, I hate anything it touches, my mother insisted on putting the fried plaintain on my rice, so, everything became inedible to me.

5. I hate cheats. Any kinda cheating but especially in a relationship, do you ever watch a film where X is with Y but really wants to be with Z? And X proceeds to cheat with Z and breaks Y's heart and the audience is supposed to be happy because X and Z got together and found love? Well not me! I always feel bad for the person whose heart got broken. Anyways, Hollywood sucks.

6. I have an immense dislike for organised religion, I belive in God but religion irks me.

7. I hate being tongue kissed, makes me want to throw up, I really believe a kiss does not have to involve sticking a whole tongue into someone's mouth(the tongue can be used for a myriad of things, just not in my mouth)

8. I really hate that Nollywood script writers write dialogue that require several trips to the bloody dictionary. I challenge anyone to find a Nollywood film in which the word 'insinuate(ing)' is not used.

9. I am not happy that my voice is about one octave deeper than it ought to be. I have made my sisters suffer hours trying to assure me that I sound essentially feminine, I am still not sure I believe them.

10. I hate that so many Nigerians are conservative about so many things, especially where women are concerned!

Lol, it's sunday night and I am bored.....

Mo' betta blues.

I am going to Jazz cafe tonight. Lemme tell you fellas out there (and ladies too because there is room in my heart for all) if you wanna get at me, I mean really, you gotta know Jazz music. That is my aphrodisiac, knowing your jazz (provided there is initial attraction) will almost get you a finger trip... Hmmn, here is one of my favourite modern Jazz tunes, it is by Terence Blanchard and Branford Marsalis, it is featured in one of my all time movies, 'Mo' Better Blues' (I recommend the film to everyone, if you liked 'Love Jones' for more than Larenz and/or Nia, though those two make a good enough reason to like a movie, I will recommend this film to you). I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

L.

When was the last time...........

I asked someone that question today and he looked at me like I had just sprouted a second head. 'When was the last time you wrote or received a letter?', he paused and said 'd'you know I cannot actually remember'. While on the train, I started thinking about how we don't write anymore. I had a pen pal once, I remember how I'd check the post every friday, barely able to contain my excitement because I knew a letter would be coming for me! So I was inspired to write this poem real quick, here it goes;

I want you to write to me,

Paper, pen or pencil

No eraser

Write me

Crossed out intentions

Rewritten to hide the fact you care more than you should

‘I was thinking, no wondering, maybe we could......’..

Tell me mundane things about your day, how your boss hates you

All 6’4 inches

Ask me how or if I think of you

‘I don’t normally do this, I mean this is not my thing'

I’ll secretly cherish how much your hand gives away’

My urban Casanova

'I really wanted to make you do that thing again

Your head thrown back, my toes curled because

I know i did it.'

On these pages, you’ll hold my hand

All caution thrown to the wind

You’ll disregard stares and engage in P.D.A

Bahia does seem too far in between these lines

Here you’ll wander outside margin with little thought

No secret between us, you, me and this sheet of A4

Do write me,

Dare me to tell you how I really feel

Remind me how much I say to you

When I think you are too distracted

To remember

‘My feet might be drained but my head always

Retains enough blood’

Tell me you’re not sure about so much

But you’re willing to go with my flow

‘if that is what you want a day at a time

Is fine I suppose.

It's been a while and I am rather rusty but hey, my muse has not deserted, I am grateful for that.

I love Her (my tattoo)

My grandmother was the first person I saw with tattoos, she had eight to be exact. I was fascinated by the marks on her right forearm. Two scorpions, a bird, her name and some other drawings. As a child, I often asked her about the markings and she'd say 'igba sisi mi ni mo ya won' (I got them as a young woman) but that answer was never satisfactory. I moved to England and I forgot about Alhaja's tattoos until I turned 19. I got the urge to get my own tattoo and I thought of her. I know now there was some defiance behind her tattoos, my father told me so. When she was getting ready to marry my grandfather, he objected to her tattoos and she was given the option to either get the offending marks drawn over (my grandfather, a devout Muslim, did not like images of animals drawn on what he perceived to be a holy temple) or forget getting married. My Alhaja chose the latter and according to my father, she told Alhaji that the markings were there when they met and he liked her, so, they'll stay. They parted ways, he went off to fight the Germans in Algeria as part of Her Majesty's army and my grandmother married another man.

They met up again in 1949, my grandmother was about board a bus at Adeniji Adele when they walked into each other. My father told me my grandfather knew she was already married then, he told her then that he'd seen so much death and destruction that he was no longer sure about God. He asked her about her tattoos, she told him she still had them. He told her he saw scorpions in the desert and he thought they were signs from her, offering him protection.
My Alhaja left her first husband at the age of 22, he had become a serial womaniser, who left home for weeks on end. They got married, Grandma and Pa, a month later, Alhaja wore a western style wedding dress that showed off her tatoos.

In the tattoo shop, I thought of getting a scorpion and I decided against it, I chose to dedicate my new tatoo to my Alhaja and all the women who raised me. So here..... (it says 'but for the love of sistahs)

T'okunbo

I am still crunched, my project has been pushed back, I am less than happy about. I am seriously thinking about moving back home though, my plans for the year are rather skewed right now, I dunno. Home in this instance will be Lagos, where I was born. I have been in the UK for most of my life but the need to go 'home' never subsides. I am not one of those folks who emigrate and become so completely assimilated that 'home' hardly crossed their mind.

After my trip to Lagos two years ago, I realised just how vibrant Lagos is, I think it definitely has a spot for a girl like me, the only disturbing thing is how much I was reminded that 'you know you're a girl' it got a extremely annoying after a while. I will be the first to admit that I like a little drink and when that happens, I smoke. It's just something I started while I was living on campus. I a am social drinker and smoker, no big deal. Now, the former did not attract much attention, it was the latter. People thought it was okay, to tell me, a grown woman, that 'you know it's not good for a woman to smoke' to make it worse, dude who first said that to me was smoking! I told him where to stick it. One thing I try to do in life is to reserve judgement until I need to make it, it's annoying that people would reach a conclusion about me because I smoke and drink socially. That really bothered me to be honest and I was hanging out with a rather high brow crowd, I was under the foolish impression that they would perhaps be more accommodating . Anyway, the third time I heard it, I ignored it. (I must add that I did not dare drink, let alone smoke while I was in Eko, I did not want to send my grandmother to an early grave).

Oh, something else I realise is that a foreign accent gets you very far! My cousins, who all sound like 'butter kids' used me to get things, I swear I felt so damned awkward. The first time they did it, we went to Nando's I think and the service was not all that, my cousins were there arguing with the service people which was getting us nowhere then they asked me to ask for the manager, I did not understand why but I did, I took care to be polite, the woman apologised and offered us some free food! I declined, embarrased, I made us all leave. I was later informed that she only did that because I sounded foreign, which was slightly annoying. We got free tickets to some social events and got free entry to a beach (ok, that was in exchange for a cigarette, the beach was close to the Chevron Estate, I cannot remember the name.) I did not know you had to pay some sorta entrace fee to go the beach but hey, we got there and we almost the only ones and I swear it felt like heaven. It sounds kinda trite but being there on the beach, looking out at the ocean and being surrounded by my loved ones brought tears to my eyes.

I also got asked out a lot, but a lot the guys struck me as shallow oh! this older guy, I am sure he was older than my pops, also asked me out, he was the chairman of Eko Island Club (which meant nothing to me because I did not know what that was, not that it would have mattered) dude actually sent his body gaurds to come and bring me to him, I woulda been scared but for the fact that it was at my cousin's wedding and there was police everywhere. Yikes! I told him I'd be back because I did not want to be rude.

It was an obscene affair, the wedding. I am sure there were over a thousand guests, they had some comedian guy, Julius Agwu as the MC, the Governor's wife, Oba Akiolu, the Elegushi of somewhere and some top politicians were all there. I would hate to have such a wedding, it turned into some networking event. I felt sorry for the bride, I am sure people forgot it was supposed to be her day!

This has gone on for longer than I intended...