BY BEN KOBI
It was at the rehearsal ground of a movie about to be rolled out for viewers’ delightful watch that I met her. The weather was very clement, though a sunny day, it was harmless and not body-irritating or the sweat-inducing type as would have expected from such a scorcher, compelling one to dab the face constantly with a handkerchief.
I had walked from the junction where the bike man who brought me pulled up. BSD and I had met at a party organized by a friend living close to our house. What followed was an exchange of phone numbers, but after the introductions, we never set eyes on each other again. Although we talked almost every week on the phone, it got to a point when it appeared we were no longer interested in each other. Anyway, it was like a case of who blinks first.
At the time of our meeting, Belinda Scot Dewari (BSD), the abbreviation I gave to the name she so loved, was a graduate of Economics from the University of Port-Harcourt; she was among the teeming unemployed graduates roaming the streets of our cities in search of job. Although she heaped her hopes on an uncle who promised to fix her with a job in no distant time, she wasn’t too comfortable with her newfound status of ‘a jobless graduate.’
When I remembered her again one day and decided to call and ask where to locate her after several years of being incommunicado, the reply I got shocked me. She told me she was no longer in Lagos–that she had shifted base to Asaba where she was not only frantically searching for a job, but also trying her hands at acting as she had joined Nollywood.
Because there was no intimacy existing in our relationship, the urge to see her wasn’t there. More so, I didn’t know where she was putting up in Lagos. Our communication then was only through the phone, no visits. That was all.
So, when I learnt she was in Asaba, I was pleasantly surprised. At that time, I wasn’t based in Asaba, but seldom travelled there as the corporate headquarters of the Corporation I work for is situated there; coupled with the fact that I had a lot of friends there too. Something told me it would be easier to get this girl. I was more than convinced.
Upon my arrival in Asaba from Lagos, I phoned to know where exactly I could locate her. I was told to come to the West End area of the capital city, close to the Federal Medical Center (FMC) where she and other up-and-coming actors were doing their thing.
I alighted from the bike at the junction she described and walked down a few meters to the rehearsal ground with a swaggering gait, trying my best to make not too noticeable my pronounced limping as all eyes at the rehearsal venue were fixed on me as I approached.
My eyes had, with the speed of a rocket jet, swept around the whole girls at the venue, not the boys because I had no business with my gender. Most of the girls there were quite beautiful and looked highly devourable before my roving, ravenous eyes. They held enormous an appeal for first-class Casanovas and devotees of romance. They were all shapes and sizes ranging from the pencil-thin, twiggy to the trendiest and plump-looking types. I waited patiently until the rehearsal was over.
Belinda was happy to see me again. She couldn’t just contain her joy. Since we met at my friend’s house in Lagos, near our parents’ house and exchanged phone numbers our conversation, like I earlier said, was only through the phone. It was so because I never knew where she was staying with her uncle and more so that she told me I could not visit her in her uncle’s house. Besides, she was not the outgoing type. She only stepped out when on a job-hunting mission. Not only that, what would have been a major spur for me, too, was missing; the intimacy that was as at that time yet to be established in our relationship and coupled with the pride in the two of us as it seemed, not to be seen doing more of the calls to avoid misinterpretations or assumptions of one lusting after the other more.
Young BSD was a toast for any man who understands the skirt language very well. She has this shape that no man could easily resist, no matter how pious. She had jerked up rumps symmetrical to her robustly built frame. A lady of average height, with a beautiful face that contained therein, bright sexy-looking eyes, a well-moulded nose no man can resist, kissable lips that revealed, when parted, dark gums with snow-white perfectly arranged dentition.
When she walks, her sitting apparatuses dance rhythmically, leaving eyes of the opposite sex that see them, popping, and with thousands of lustful ideas forming labyrinths in one’s thinking faculty. Her well-positioned backsides, tantalizing laps and fine legs, and good-looking face formed the most intrinsic qualities of her beautiful assets.
Inside the self-apartment she occupies with her girlfriend Amaka, who, at the time of my visit travelled, she fixed me a chilled bottle of Trophy larger beer and pieces of roasted, richly sauced pork meat sold somewhere on her street, before leaving for the bathroom.
My whole thoughts were lost in lustful imaginations as I watched her gently applying toiletries. ‘I think it’s your turn to go and have your bath or won’t you like to shower?’’ she said.
‘I was thinking you would call me to join you in the bathroom,’ I said, managing a smile.
‘That idea didn’t just occur to me. It didn’t just cross my mind the least’ she said, apologizing for not doing that.’
As I was bathing, I remembered what one of my cousins, Sani Bello told me, a trick, and decided to apply it. I started massaging the soaped-up phallus that left me with a size that made me start feeling proud of myself, and thanking God for blessing me with such a not too long, but frightening fat weapon for an average man like me. I then got to know massaging one’s ‘waist girdle’ with soap lengthens and enlarges it.
I let out a piercing scream that forced BSD to dash into the bathroom immediately. Of course, no one who hears such a scream would have ignored it. Her immediate response was all I needed for her eyes to behold what was now looking like a cucumber. I had let lose my fierce-looking cunt teaser which was nodding violently. Its cap was charged like a ring boiler plugged into electricity.
‘’Soap entered my eyes.’’ I lied. ‘’Oh, I’m sorry. I hope you’re a bit okay now?’’ she asked, with her eyes fixed on her attraction.
When it was time to go to bed after watching a movie she steered in which she told me fetched her N120,000 for the 20 scenes she featured almost making her play a lead role, she told me to come over to the bed while she found her length on the rug that shone with neatness. We argued for some time as I told her she would be the one to sleep on the bed while I made use of the rug. But her insistence that I sleep on the bed finally made me yield. From the lively gist we were having that was now going weak-dripped as we were both feeling sleepy, I finally rolled into a deep sleep.
No one, I mean any girl that I have come across that set her eyes on my well-situated Jack Knife had ever resisted it. They had always longed for it. It’s not my making but that of my creator. I didn’t want to push for the admission. I had the confidence that she would ask for it when the time was ripe for her to do so.
At about 1.20 a.m., she tapped me and asked if I needed something to cover my body. ‘No, thanks’, I said and pretentiously waited for her reaction. I was only in my boxers and my now-breathing phallus kicking. She must have been watching my restless little man.
Again, she tapped me close to my JT asking if I could stand the whirling fan without having any clothes on. I replied in the affirmative. The third tap which didn’t bring about any result, made her join me in bed.
‘’Don’t see me as one that’s loosed, Ken; I’m in love with you. I mean I love you. I’m happy you’re here with me today. Let’s not make it a dull night, please. I fell in love with you that very day we met. Never mind we never had the opportunity of being together as we’re now experiencing or that I have not been calling you. Being here with me is like finding a solution to my longstanding problem, not seeing you again. It’s eureka for me now. Doubt me not, Ken. ‘’I love you too from the bottom of my heart,’’ I replied.
The whole action commenced with stimulating and scintillating romance, hot enough to render the swirling fan above useless. We were both breathing heavily. Everything on our body stood out, stiffened and I was cocksure and so were other invisible head-turners in her innards.
The condom she brought fitted well onto my rod. The prodding into our erogenous zones continued while the now-protected cunt teaser restlessly waited. All manners of romance were engaged, and all that earned me uncountable encomiums from the actress. She was the best in this aspect. I love girls who are not only responsive but also appreciative, and BSD was good at both.
She helped me trace her knob that was kicking right inside her quim, as if trying to jolt out for my harder grip. I held it and did a quick strumming with it. ‘Ken’ she called severally, asking if I could tease it further up with my excited weapon, jerking up and down and begging for penetration. My mission was to let her cum before the badly solicited penetration.
When she heaved a sigh of relief, I knew she had cum; and quickly penetrated for resurrection. ‘’I’m coming again, Ken. I’m cum-mmm-mmmmm-ing, Ken; I’m gone. Oh, my God. God bless the day I set my eyes on you.’ My elated UDOKA this time had disengaged from the condom. How it happened, I didn’t just know. But the realization came when everything became naturally sweeter. It was hot, urging, moving, sensational, killing and highly romantic. She later turned, rested her backside on my face and begged for a rear after she had handled the microphone on her knees.
From that position, her clit was now closer to my dancing tongue. The tonguing of the jolted-out organ was rapid and steady. And that increased the moans and groans, the oohing and ahhing I thought was going to be everlasting.
We later disengaged from that position, and with her rumps fully jerked up like a raised tyre undergoing vulcanizing, I again, rammed into her, first using the Jerk knife before applying the Slingshot. She screamed my name uncountable times, as her fully raised legs tried to reach the ceiling.
BSD confessed she had never had it so nice before, saying that she now knew that it was not by size, how huge, fat or long one’s instrument was as it was all about having the thrusting skill, shoving deeper into uncharted waters.
