July 7th, 2012.
05: 32pm.
What does is take to get an uptight woman to loosen up? It is
attention and of course, good loving. That was the problem Nike had. A
beautiful woman she was but her temper was legendary. Office gossip had
speculated that she had been nearly married twice over the last three
years but something always went wrong at the last moment, probably as a
result of this super temper of hers.
She was such a beautiful woman in her mid or late thirties and
successful by all means; something that tends to intimidate most guys my
age. She was smart and sexy and sophisticated. She had worked in my
company for close to six years and in that short while, she had risen to
the highly coveted post of supply manager in charge of West Africa.
However, a new project brought our departments together and since she
was very senior to me, she became my supervisor for the duration of the
project.
I experienced first hand this legendary temper of hers at our first
inter-departmental meeting. We’d had different ideas on how to proceed
on the project at hand and she was probably used to every one deferring
to her opinion. Well, definitely not this dude! The more she insisted,
expecting me to give in, the more I insisted. Even when she pulled rank
on me, I still refused to back down. Despicable words flew freely out of
her mouth and I nearly lost my cool. One thing known about me despite
my peccadilloes is that I’m good at what I do and it took my boss to
make me quit my insistence.
After that incident, we made sure we kept our distance. She had told
me she didn’t like me and I simply said “likewise”. This attracted
snickers from other colleagues who were still amazed at my boldness. I
got not a few pats on the back for confronting her. That, however wasn’t
the only victory I had earned. During our heated exchange, I noticed a
lot of things about her. She actually enjoyed the fact that I’d stood up
to her. Her no-nonsense facade gave way and exposed a kind of
vulnerability that in a way, made me feel sorry for her. Also, I noticed
that after that fateful day, she’d been secretly checking me out ever
since. She’d been making clandestine investigations from colleagues
about my personal life and of course, I would get feedback. Something
was bound to happen soon enough.
However, “soon enough” came quicker than I expected. It was about a
week after our ‘incident’. We had a presentation to make to one of our
multi-million dollar client the next day which was a saturday by 10am
and we’d worked late into the night. It was a few minutes after ten
thirty pm. We’d gone over strategies and plans countless times and I was
beginning to get quite frustrated. Our team gradually got smaller till
it was just the two of us. I seized the moment and was about to bid her
farewell when she mysteriously produced a bottle of Jack Daniels.
“You are not going to let a girl drink this all by herself, are you?” She asked rather jovially.
I wasn’t ready to be free with her just yet. We’d kept it strictly
professional until now. A bottle of Jack Daniel wasn’t going to break
the ice that easy.
“I’m sorry but I really have somewhere I need to be right now.” I replied as politely as I could.
“Come on…” she said, as she brought out two glasses and an ice pack
out of the fridge. “Just have a drink with me. Let’s say its my way of
apologizing for my outburst last week. You’re not still mad at me, are
you?”
“Of course not.” I said
“Then please have a drink with me.”
She had filled both glasses. “Do you care for ice?”
“No, thanks. I prefer it straight.”
I sat back on the chair in the large conference room on 16th floor of
Randall Towers. She came towards me with both glasses; hers and mine.
She handed me mine and sat on the table next to me and crossed her legs.
She had on an above-the-knee-length skirt and her crossed legs exposed
an even more generous view of her thighs. After a long, hard look at
those fresh thighs of hers, I looked up at her. She was watching me with
a coy smile on her lips. I took a large gulp from the glass in my hand.
It burnt my throat a bit and made me wince but it felt good. My body
was flooded with warmth. She sipped hers and asked,
“So where were you rushing to? The girl friend?”
“Home.”
“The girl friend?” She asked again, smiling.
“Haven’t got one.” I replied innocently.
“Really? Rumor has it that you’re quite popular with the female folk around here.”
"Like you said, 'rumour has it'." I said quietly and took a sip from my glass. She smiled and conceded.
“I’m glad we worked together on this project. If I had any doubts about your ability, you’ve dispelled them.” Shesaid, changing the subject.
“You certainly did have doubts but I’m glad they’ve been dispelled all the same.” I said smiling.
She laughed. She picked the bottle of Jack and asked to refill my glass. I nodded.
“So what are you plans after the project. Are you really going back to Kenya?” I asked, after she refilled her glass and mine.
“Yes. I may actually like the place.” She said.
“I’m sure you will.”
“You’ll come in early tomorrow?” She asked after some time. I nodded.
“I’ll be so happy after the presentation tomorrow. I’ll have time to
actually rest. Haven’t rested since we started this project.” She said
rubbing her neck.
“And neither have I.” I added. I continued after a short while. “I
told you though, everything is perfect. The numbers all add up, our
stats and projections are up to date. We should give one hell of a show
tomorrow. You worry too much.”
“I know.” She said. “I have nothing else to worry about so I worry
about my work.” She forced a weak but empty smile. In that moment, she’d
said it all about her life.
She turned her attention to this picture behind me on the wall of the
room with this far away look in her eyes. I imagined the great debate
going on inside her head. All those rhetorical questions women ask
themselves when caught up in a delicate situation. I felt really sorry
for her now. The rumors were indeed true. She was a walking time-bomb of
sexual frustration and tension. She needed an outlet. We were both
stressed, tense and horny and alone but she more than I. We needed to
let off steam. What better place than at the office? The janitor would
probably make rounds soon and I didn’t want to pass up this opportunity.
I stood up and she focused again on me, glass in hand. Her eyes were a
mixture of trepidation and excitement. I moved closer to her. I took
her near empty glass from her beautifully manicured hands and emptied
the contents down my throat. There was this look that crept into her
eyes. I couldn’t fathom it but at this stage, I was past caring. I held
her slim waist and looked intensely into her eyes. My face moved closer
to hers and stopped. She met me half way without hesitation, her hands
going around my neck. Our lips joined in so passionate a kiss, slowly
and gently at first and as emotions flared, more probing and violent. I
was out of breath in a few minutes as it felt like her lips were
draining out my very essence. From then on, it was a blur of lightening
speed movements. Her jacket and blouse was off; my belt flew out of its
belt holes; her bra unstrapped at my expert right hand while the left
lifted her skirt; my trousers fell loosely to the floor as her hands
probed the contents of my underwears. Her glass which I’d dropped on the
table dropped with a soft thud on thick rug as we settled more
comfortably on the mahogany table. My lips went for her beautiful and
soft breasts which seemed to relish the attainment of freedom from the
stifling bra. Her nipples were hard and swollen. She moaned with delight
pulling my head closer to her chest as I worked both breasts with my
lips and fingers with skill and equal attention. Through all this, she
fondled my rock-hard equipment as my fingers slid from her breasts to
her wet triangular pleasure place, tingling and roaming till she could
take it no more. With expert skill and gentility, she guided me in and
we rocked rhythmically, gently at first till we worked ourselves to a
frenzy. The only sounds in the room was the quiet hum of the split unit
and the creaking of the table. Suddenly, the table felt uncomfortable so
I lifted her powerfully while she clung to me, struggling to rip away
the buttons of my shirt. When we hit the soft rug, my shirt was off and
my singlet was in all states of tears as she violently took it off me.
On the rug, the rhythmic movement continued and gathered momentum once
again till we peaked, making all sorts of noises that brought us to our
true nature and lay beside each other exhausted and out of breath.
“Wow!” She said, after a few minutes of hard breathing and panting.
“Couldn’t have said it any better.” I said, my eyes glazed and
feeling spent. There was a long and uncomfortable silence. There was no
need to say anything so I just lay back and counted the rows of designs
on the ceiling. Just when I imagined some form of resentment and guilt
trip would creep in as is often the case in these situations, she
reached out for me again. I thought I would die for I was spent but as
she touched me, energy surged into my blood from nowhere and as she
mounted me, I sighed in relief. The motions began again and reached a
crescendo when we heard the “cling” of the elevator. Damn! It was the
janitor and we’d forgotten to secure the door to the conference room. I
tried to get her off me to lock the door but she wouldn’t have it.
“The janitor is here.” I whispered as she continued to ride. Her face
was a mixture of bliss and satisfaction. She didn’t respond and as I
made to get her attention, she covered my mouth with her right palm and
continued to ride without a care in the world.
Oh well, I thought. Papa Grand was going to nab me again. Wouldn’t be
the first time though. The jovial seventy year old who had been the
janitor for our floor in the building was much loved by everyone for his
witty story telling and he loved me much and had told me on many
occasions about how I reminded him of his younger self. He was going to
have a new story to tell on monday starring me…again! *sigh*
Nike continued to ride with eyes closed, her beautiful breasts
hopping as she did while I kept my eyes to the door which was open a
crack. Papa Grand cautiously peeped in. I waved and he nodded and smiled
knowingly and stepped out shutting the door with a silent click. Nike
came long and hard and I didn’t (thanks to Papa Grand) and collapsed on
me, whimpering and sucking furiously on her thumb. I held her close and
we remained like that for a while before she said, “Michael, can you
please take me home. I don’t think I can drive tonight.” The first time
she’d ever spoken my first name.
“Of course.” I said. Without another word, she got off me and we
dressed up hurriedly. It was a couple of minutes to twelve am. We passed
Papa Grand on our way to the elevator who was vacuuming the corridor
and I squeezed a thousand naira note into his hand. He nodded without
even looking up.
On the long and silent drive back to her place, she said again, “Will you stay the night? I could fix you a nice snack.”
“I don’t know. I’d rather not push it.” I said, rather uncertainly.
She kept silent. Hmmm…I thought to myself, grinning. So I’ve tamed the iron lady that now she wants to cook for me? Ok…
What a day…what a motherfucking day!
Malcolm O. Ifi.
Follow on twitter @saymalcolm
Showing posts with label Short Story: The Mickey Jay Series. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Short Story: The Mickey Jay Series. Show all posts
Friday, 7 December 2012
Friday, 30 November 2012
MICKEY JAY: MEMOIRS OF A LAGOS PLAYBOY (II)
June 9th, 2012.
04. 43am.
The promise of a brand new challenge is what makes me go on. I often wonder how people are content to live life without a challenge. My theory about life is you never really know who you are or what you are capable of till you push yourself; regardless of the endeavor, I might add. I love women. They are the rainbow in my black and white world. As long as I have lots of them in my life, my world is colorful.
Its been almost five days since I met Christy in that eatery establishment and since that moment, she’s formed an “occupy movement” in my head. I returned the favor and have bombarded her mobile with calls since tuesday. At first, she hadn’t been so free and nice to me but I wouldn’t stop. I called her shortly after I left the eatery; we talked briefly for ten minutes. I called her after the close of business for that day; we talked for nearly three hours. Between tuesday and today which is saturday, I’d sent her over thirty romantic text messages and about seven lengthy and romantic poems. During this period too, the calls increased exponentially. By thursday, she’d started calling me. We exchanged information about ourselves. She told me about her work, where she worked (I’d promptly sent a box of chocolates the moment I got that detail), her family, her life in most personal terms. I traded a couple of stories too; some truths, half-truths and some lies here and there (Don’t look at me like that). She loved to laugh and jokes came easy to me so she had her fill. We agreed to hang out friday night and she said she couldn’t wait.
Now, the trick is to fill her head with thoughts of me. Most guys don’t believe in it but it sure works. Women dream of and crave for attention. Most dudes don’t have that time, understandably so. But physical presence is not everything. Those little things: like that frequent one minute call to ask her opinion on something; that sweet two-worded text message which is the first thing she sees when she wakes up; that lengthy email you send in the thick of work to distract her temporarily; that joke; that unexpected gift…etc, those are the things that matter. Women have an over-active imagination and the fact that we’d just met once and I’d chased her with so much vigor made me a mystery, a sort of demi-god, a standard, a symbol of perfection before her eyes. But we all know that such perfection does not exist. We would rather be in love with the utopian illusion, no matter how temporal it is. Its the reason we adjust quickly because deep down, we know its all a lie.
Just when she was getting so used to me, so used to those calls, those poems, those text message; like a drought affected fountain, they ceased. Yesterday, I took the day off from work and her as well. I had planned to take the day off from work on friday and I did citing health concerns. I ignored her calls, text messages and emails all day long. By evening, she was frantic. Seventy two missed calls, eight text messages and five emails! Not bad, huh?
After a time, the calls, texts and emails stopped coming. It was time to seek her out. I left my house around six thirty pm and drove straight to her office hoping she hadn’t left yet. She hadn’t. The traffic was crazy and she usually loved to wait till it simmered down. I parked and waited looking rather dandy in my brown suede jacket, blue shirt, blue jeans and brown shoes. I caught not a few stares from many ladies but I’m sexy and I know it.(LMFAO!)
I had to wait for about forty minutes before she came out of the big revolving doors of the bank. It was nearly eight o’clock and apart from the from the fact that the weather had changed again, it was getting darker. However, the mental photo of the beautiful princess I met a few days ago slowly began to recede. She looked wired. Probably the stress of the day… and hopefully, me. She held her jacket in her hands, her shirt was terribly rumpled and her hair was a mess. However, there was something I’d missed out on that first day: she hadn’t stood up so there was no way I could have known about that coke bottle shape. Damn!
She got to her car, a blue Toyota RAV4 opened it and kept her bag in the passenger seat. I had my phone out and I dialed her number. She answered immediately.
“I don’t want to talk to you right now!” She vibrated. “You’ve ruined my day. I’ve been calling all morning, all afternoon! I sent you sms’s, I sent you mails yet you wouldn’t reply none of them…!”
I tried to cut in but she cut me off and continued with her rants. I really didn’t have anything to say anyway so I kept silent till she finished.
“Where are you?!”
“Right behind you…”
“What are you…” She turned and there I was with my best and most charming smile.
“I hate you so much right now! Urggghh!” There was shock, a sigh of relief and a smile; all in a split second.
“Am sorry love. I wanted to surprise you.” I said humbly. She gave me a look like “you got me but I still wish I could strangle you”. I laughed.
“You gotta admit, I got you cold!”
“I’m still mad at you. Don’t try to make it look like a joke. It isn’t funny.” She said earnestly but I knew she loved it. I extended my arms, my eyes inviting her and she came into them gratefully. We stood together in the car park, locked in each others arms for what seemed like eternity. I could perceive faint wafts of her perfume. My hand caressed her hair gently and she snuggled deeper into my chest till she became conscious of what seemed like a boner and she looked up at me, inquiring and a sheepish grin was my reply. She pushed me away gently.
“I missed you honey. I just realized that hope is such a beautiful thing. I couldn’t have survived this long without you were it not for hope.” I said. I moved closer and held her waist and looked into her beautiful eyes. She had this adorable look in her eyes like I’d just said what she needed to hear. The smile her beautiful lips created weakened me totally.
“I missed you too…” She said shyly and quietly.
“Christy…?” Another voice jolted us back to earth. I turned to see who the intruder was. Whoa! Another hottie!!
“Finally, I get to meet your mystery lover…”
The intruder assessed me with her eyes and my eyes returned the favor. A little heavy but with that kind of voluptuousness that appeals to us guys. She had on a buttoned grey suit and a blue blouse inside it that made it look like her great breasts were struggling to jump out. Her skirt was very, very …mini. She was pretty with rosy cheeks. Her face was a bit heavily made up but it didn’t hide the fact that she was pretty and very sexy. The kind that could make a guy’s blood rush instantly on short notice.
Her sudden appearance didn’t seem to please Christy one bit who put her arms around my neck as if to say “Back off!”. Yeah, women can be very territorial but there’s plenty of me and I can never be labeled stingy.
“Err…Mickey, this is a colleague. Her name’s Kemi.” Christy did the introduction and was quite stiff about it.
“Its a pleasure to meet you Kemi.” I said, flashing once again my winner smile. I extended my hand and Kemi took it, still appraising me.
“Same here, Mickey.” She held on to my hand a little longer than usual as she looked me in the eye. Christy had to break us up before a subtle message or two could be passed.
“Now I know why she’s been hiding you all this time. She’s got a live mouse this time.” She winked at me and I laughed heartily at the analogy. No smiles from Christy.
“Ok o. Let me not interrupt you guys. Nice to have met you dear.” She said to me. She leaned to Christy and whispered something to her, laughed, gave me a wink and she was gone.
Christy didn’t look too happy with the interruption. The mood sort of changed so I asked innocently, “You don’t seem to like her much.”
“Don’t think I didn’t see your eyes roving all over her body.” She replied, feigning anger.
Oh dear, I thought. She’d caught me but I responded in time. “Oh come on love. I was about to tell you something about something…” I said nodding mischievously at the lessened bulge in my pants. She smiled. I leaned closer without warning and kissed her softly on her lips. When I drew back, she looked perplexed.
“Why did you…” She never finished the sentence as my mouth found hers again and this time, she responded drawing me close.
After what a while, she withdrew remembering we were still at her office premises, though it was all dark now.
“Where are you taking me tonight?” She asked, blushing and fumbling for her car keys.
“I had a great dinner planned at the Oriental but I’d honestly love to skip all that and take you home right away.” I said earnestly.
She laughed hard. “Are you always this direct?”
“I am direct but not always.” I replied smiling.
“I don’t imagine you have any food at your place. I’m feeling rather peckish and my back aches.” She rubbed her neck.
“My love,” I declared with a British accent, “it would be my pleasure to feed you and give you a massage. My hands have the magical quality of a masseur to them. Feel them…” I stretched them to her.
She laughed and pushed me away again. I leaned closer, caressing her hair. “So what’s it gonna be love? I’d really love to have a quiet night with you… alone. Haven’t we waited long enough?”
She looked at me, blushed and looked away.
“I promise we’ll only do what you want us to do…” I smiled.
“You’ll give me a massage?”
“You don’t have to ask love.” I smiled.
“Where did you park your car?” She asked. I pointed to the black Infinity FX 45 across the road.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be moving against the traffic and I’ve got some t-shirts that would fit you perfectly.” I gave my mischievous grin again.
“You read my mind! You’re so naughty!” She hit me on my chest again, laughing. “So, lead the way. I’ll follow from behind.”
And the rest, as they say is history.
Watching her sleep like an angel on my bed with my t-shirt on while I write my memoirs with memories of last night fresh in my head, I can’t help but think that there just may be some unfinished business between me and what was her name again…? Ah yes, Kemi. The voluptuous one…
Its way too soon to think of that. I may just fall in love with Christy given time. She is a dreamer and a hopeless romantic. Pretty much like me. Perhaps, that’s what drew me to her. I may seem all hard and tough on the outside but I’m actually all soft and gooey on the inside. The hope of true love is what drives me, keeps me…but so does the promise of a new challenge.
She stirs. I’d better head to the kitchen. Breakfast in bed coming up.
Malcolm O. Ifi.
Follow Malcolm on twitter @saymalcolm
Copyright © 2012 Malcolm O. Ifi.
04. 43am.
The promise of a brand new challenge is what makes me go on. I often wonder how people are content to live life without a challenge. My theory about life is you never really know who you are or what you are capable of till you push yourself; regardless of the endeavor, I might add. I love women. They are the rainbow in my black and white world. As long as I have lots of them in my life, my world is colorful.
Its been almost five days since I met Christy in that eatery establishment and since that moment, she’s formed an “occupy movement” in my head. I returned the favor and have bombarded her mobile with calls since tuesday. At first, she hadn’t been so free and nice to me but I wouldn’t stop. I called her shortly after I left the eatery; we talked briefly for ten minutes. I called her after the close of business for that day; we talked for nearly three hours. Between tuesday and today which is saturday, I’d sent her over thirty romantic text messages and about seven lengthy and romantic poems. During this period too, the calls increased exponentially. By thursday, she’d started calling me. We exchanged information about ourselves. She told me about her work, where she worked (I’d promptly sent a box of chocolates the moment I got that detail), her family, her life in most personal terms. I traded a couple of stories too; some truths, half-truths and some lies here and there (Don’t look at me like that). She loved to laugh and jokes came easy to me so she had her fill. We agreed to hang out friday night and she said she couldn’t wait.
Now, the trick is to fill her head with thoughts of me. Most guys don’t believe in it but it sure works. Women dream of and crave for attention. Most dudes don’t have that time, understandably so. But physical presence is not everything. Those little things: like that frequent one minute call to ask her opinion on something; that sweet two-worded text message which is the first thing she sees when she wakes up; that lengthy email you send in the thick of work to distract her temporarily; that joke; that unexpected gift…etc, those are the things that matter. Women have an over-active imagination and the fact that we’d just met once and I’d chased her with so much vigor made me a mystery, a sort of demi-god, a standard, a symbol of perfection before her eyes. But we all know that such perfection does not exist. We would rather be in love with the utopian illusion, no matter how temporal it is. Its the reason we adjust quickly because deep down, we know its all a lie.
Just when she was getting so used to me, so used to those calls, those poems, those text message; like a drought affected fountain, they ceased. Yesterday, I took the day off from work and her as well. I had planned to take the day off from work on friday and I did citing health concerns. I ignored her calls, text messages and emails all day long. By evening, she was frantic. Seventy two missed calls, eight text messages and five emails! Not bad, huh?
After a time, the calls, texts and emails stopped coming. It was time to seek her out. I left my house around six thirty pm and drove straight to her office hoping she hadn’t left yet. She hadn’t. The traffic was crazy and she usually loved to wait till it simmered down. I parked and waited looking rather dandy in my brown suede jacket, blue shirt, blue jeans and brown shoes. I caught not a few stares from many ladies but I’m sexy and I know it.(LMFAO!)
I had to wait for about forty minutes before she came out of the big revolving doors of the bank. It was nearly eight o’clock and apart from the from the fact that the weather had changed again, it was getting darker. However, the mental photo of the beautiful princess I met a few days ago slowly began to recede. She looked wired. Probably the stress of the day… and hopefully, me. She held her jacket in her hands, her shirt was terribly rumpled and her hair was a mess. However, there was something I’d missed out on that first day: she hadn’t stood up so there was no way I could have known about that coke bottle shape. Damn!
She got to her car, a blue Toyota RAV4 opened it and kept her bag in the passenger seat. I had my phone out and I dialed her number. She answered immediately.
“I don’t want to talk to you right now!” She vibrated. “You’ve ruined my day. I’ve been calling all morning, all afternoon! I sent you sms’s, I sent you mails yet you wouldn’t reply none of them…!”
I tried to cut in but she cut me off and continued with her rants. I really didn’t have anything to say anyway so I kept silent till she finished.
“Where are you?!”
“Right behind you…”
“What are you…” She turned and there I was with my best and most charming smile.
“I hate you so much right now! Urggghh!” There was shock, a sigh of relief and a smile; all in a split second.
“Am sorry love. I wanted to surprise you.” I said humbly. She gave me a look like “you got me but I still wish I could strangle you”. I laughed.
“You gotta admit, I got you cold!”
“I’m still mad at you. Don’t try to make it look like a joke. It isn’t funny.” She said earnestly but I knew she loved it. I extended my arms, my eyes inviting her and she came into them gratefully. We stood together in the car park, locked in each others arms for what seemed like eternity. I could perceive faint wafts of her perfume. My hand caressed her hair gently and she snuggled deeper into my chest till she became conscious of what seemed like a boner and she looked up at me, inquiring and a sheepish grin was my reply. She pushed me away gently.
“I missed you honey. I just realized that hope is such a beautiful thing. I couldn’t have survived this long without you were it not for hope.” I said. I moved closer and held her waist and looked into her beautiful eyes. She had this adorable look in her eyes like I’d just said what she needed to hear. The smile her beautiful lips created weakened me totally.
“I missed you too…” She said shyly and quietly.
“Christy…?” Another voice jolted us back to earth. I turned to see who the intruder was. Whoa! Another hottie!!
“Finally, I get to meet your mystery lover…”
The intruder assessed me with her eyes and my eyes returned the favor. A little heavy but with that kind of voluptuousness that appeals to us guys. She had on a buttoned grey suit and a blue blouse inside it that made it look like her great breasts were struggling to jump out. Her skirt was very, very …mini. She was pretty with rosy cheeks. Her face was a bit heavily made up but it didn’t hide the fact that she was pretty and very sexy. The kind that could make a guy’s blood rush instantly on short notice.
Her sudden appearance didn’t seem to please Christy one bit who put her arms around my neck as if to say “Back off!”. Yeah, women can be very territorial but there’s plenty of me and I can never be labeled stingy.
“Err…Mickey, this is a colleague. Her name’s Kemi.” Christy did the introduction and was quite stiff about it.
“Its a pleasure to meet you Kemi.” I said, flashing once again my winner smile. I extended my hand and Kemi took it, still appraising me.
“Same here, Mickey.” She held on to my hand a little longer than usual as she looked me in the eye. Christy had to break us up before a subtle message or two could be passed.
“Now I know why she’s been hiding you all this time. She’s got a live mouse this time.” She winked at me and I laughed heartily at the analogy. No smiles from Christy.
“Ok o. Let me not interrupt you guys. Nice to have met you dear.” She said to me. She leaned to Christy and whispered something to her, laughed, gave me a wink and she was gone.
Christy didn’t look too happy with the interruption. The mood sort of changed so I asked innocently, “You don’t seem to like her much.”
“Don’t think I didn’t see your eyes roving all over her body.” She replied, feigning anger.
Oh dear, I thought. She’d caught me but I responded in time. “Oh come on love. I was about to tell you something about something…” I said nodding mischievously at the lessened bulge in my pants. She smiled. I leaned closer without warning and kissed her softly on her lips. When I drew back, she looked perplexed.
“Why did you…” She never finished the sentence as my mouth found hers again and this time, she responded drawing me close.
After what a while, she withdrew remembering we were still at her office premises, though it was all dark now.
“Where are you taking me tonight?” She asked, blushing and fumbling for her car keys.
“I had a great dinner planned at the Oriental but I’d honestly love to skip all that and take you home right away.” I said earnestly.
She laughed hard. “Are you always this direct?”
“I am direct but not always.” I replied smiling.
“I don’t imagine you have any food at your place. I’m feeling rather peckish and my back aches.” She rubbed her neck.
“My love,” I declared with a British accent, “it would be my pleasure to feed you and give you a massage. My hands have the magical quality of a masseur to them. Feel them…” I stretched them to her.
She laughed and pushed me away again. I leaned closer, caressing her hair. “So what’s it gonna be love? I’d really love to have a quiet night with you… alone. Haven’t we waited long enough?”
She looked at me, blushed and looked away.
“I promise we’ll only do what you want us to do…” I smiled.
“You’ll give me a massage?”
“You don’t have to ask love.” I smiled.
“Where did you park your car?” She asked. I pointed to the black Infinity FX 45 across the road.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be moving against the traffic and I’ve got some t-shirts that would fit you perfectly.” I gave my mischievous grin again.
“You read my mind! You’re so naughty!” She hit me on my chest again, laughing. “So, lead the way. I’ll follow from behind.”
And the rest, as they say is history.
Watching her sleep like an angel on my bed with my t-shirt on while I write my memoirs with memories of last night fresh in my head, I can’t help but think that there just may be some unfinished business between me and what was her name again…? Ah yes, Kemi. The voluptuous one…
Its way too soon to think of that. I may just fall in love with Christy given time. She is a dreamer and a hopeless romantic. Pretty much like me. Perhaps, that’s what drew me to her. I may seem all hard and tough on the outside but I’m actually all soft and gooey on the inside. The hope of true love is what drives me, keeps me…but so does the promise of a new challenge.
She stirs. I’d better head to the kitchen. Breakfast in bed coming up.
Malcolm O. Ifi.
Follow Malcolm on twitter @saymalcolm
Copyright © 2012 Malcolm O. Ifi.
Thursday, 22 November 2012
Mickey Jay: Memoirs Of A Lagos Playboy (I)
At last! Friday is here!! Dear readers of my blog, i present to you Mickey Jay: Memoirs of a Lagos Playboy. Please enjoy and your comments will be much appreciated! ;)
5th June, 2012.
2. 13pm
Today, during my lunch break I ran into this pretty lady. She said her name was Christy. She was about 5’7′, slim and well proportioned in perfectly cut dark suit and matching pants. A career woman from her outfit; most likely a banker. Now, I’ll let you know this upfront; I’m not looking to get settled just yet. I just want to have fun. I’m young, cool and handsome. I won’t say I’m rich but I do just fine. This was a much needed change from my steady routine of UNILAG…sorry, Moshood Abiola University babes (No thanks to Mr. President).
Before you call me spineless, hear me out. I don’t usually chase career women. You should know why. This is Lagos! It is teeming with single career women and 7 times out of 10, any single career woman you date is hoping you propose after six months of intense romance and hot sex. Not me. Call me selfish but I treasure my freedom too damn much. I don’t want to be wrapped around a woman’s fingers just yet. Actually, the last career woman I dated was a little over a year ago. Untangling myself from her web of possessiveness proved trickier than I thought with so many unsavory experiences; especially her exceptional detective skills that I’d rather not talk about. I’ll leave it at that.
Yes, Christy…she said her name was Christy. She wore her hair long and natural. She wore light make-up which perfectly accentuated her pretty face. She was fair in complexion in stark contrast to my dark. But then, fair complexioned ladies always found me attractive. She had ordered and was eating alone, deeply engrossed in her blackberry. I studied her as I ordered my lunch. I surmised she would be in her late 20′s or early 30′s. She didn’t wear much jewelry. No ring on her finger. She spent more time on her phone rather than on her nearly untouched meal; a clear indication she was in no hurry. However, the usual signals I usually seek before I moved in on a prey were absent (trade mark secrets so I ain’t telling!). Here was an absolutely confident woman who reeked of success. If there was any chink in her armor, she hid it well and to find it, I’d have to get close.
I picked up my lunch, paid for it and went straight towards her table. She seemed to take notice and she looked up at me. For a split second, I saw something in there as our eyes met. Yeah…I’m not bragging but I usually have that effect on women. She looked away as I got to her table.
“Hi, hope you don’t mind if I join you?” I said. She looked up and shrugged. The silent treatment eh, I thought. I sat down directly across her and pretended to be engrossed in my meal. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her steal a look. She seemed be a bit uncomfortable with my nonchalant presence but didn’t make any attempt to leave. Nearly half way through my meal, I said, “I see you have hardly touched your meal for almost fifteen minutes now.”
My statement surprised her and she looked up from her mobile phone. I continued, “Hope everything’s ok?”
“You’ve been monitoring me, haven’t you?” She said, her voice low and sweet. A light smile had formed across her pretty lips.
“Well, I admit I have. You are certainly worth monitoring.” I said and flashed my most charming smile.
“I’m Michael…”, I said extending my hand which she took. Her hand was soft, very soft. “…but you can call me Mick.”
“I’m Christy.” She said, smiling. Beautiful lips.
“I have a confession Christy. One I hope you’ll bear with me for sharing” I said apologetically. “I woke up this morning with a very special feeling…one that I couldn’t explain, until now.”
“What do you mean?” She asked, a bit taken aback.
“There was something special about today that I didn’t understand but finally I did when I saw you.”
I saw many things in her eyes. Shock, incredulity, surprise but repulse wasn’t one of them. She dropped her phone close to her barely touched meal which consisted of just a plate of Coleslaw and surveyed me critically. I put on my game face, meal pushed aside.
“I’m impressed.” She said. “Those are excellent pick up lines. Do girls usually fall for them?” She asked, mockingly.
“They are not pick up lines,” I said calmly, maintaining my intense stare.
“Merely an expression of my feelings. There was a promise of beauty in my life today and I’ve just come face to face with it.”
There was a small frown, but it was gone in a second. I could imagine the turmoil going through her mind. I had sowed a seed and it would germinate. My stare continued and she grew uncomfortable. She reached for her unopened bottle of water, almost knocking it down. With amazing reflex, I caught it, broke the seal and handed it back to her. Her fingers brushed mine as she retrieved it back. She unscrewed the cap, took two quick gulps and replaced the cap.
“What do you want from me?” She asked.
“Just your number” I said meekly as I brought out my phone and handed it to her. She took it without hesitation and typed in her number. I dialed the number as soon as she handed my phone back.
“Don’t you trust that I gave you the right number?” She asked, laughing.
“There’s that but I want you to have my number as well.” I said smiling. Her phone vibrated on the table and I cut the call. I rose up.
“Christy, you just made my day.” I extended my hand again and when I received hers, this time I kissed it. She went bright red.
Without another word, I turned and walked towards the exit. I could feel her eyes boring holes in my back and I was suddenly cautious about missing a step. It was a relief to walk out the eatery establishment without any form of mishap. She would be mine by weekend.
(To Be Continued...)
Malcolm O. Ifi.
Follow on twitter @saymalcolm
Copyright © 2012 Malcolm O. Ifi.
5th June, 2012.
2. 13pm
Today, during my lunch break I ran into this pretty lady. She said her name was Christy. She was about 5’7′, slim and well proportioned in perfectly cut dark suit and matching pants. A career woman from her outfit; most likely a banker. Now, I’ll let you know this upfront; I’m not looking to get settled just yet. I just want to have fun. I’m young, cool and handsome. I won’t say I’m rich but I do just fine. This was a much needed change from my steady routine of UNILAG…sorry, Moshood Abiola University babes (No thanks to Mr. President).
Before you call me spineless, hear me out. I don’t usually chase career women. You should know why. This is Lagos! It is teeming with single career women and 7 times out of 10, any single career woman you date is hoping you propose after six months of intense romance and hot sex. Not me. Call me selfish but I treasure my freedom too damn much. I don’t want to be wrapped around a woman’s fingers just yet. Actually, the last career woman I dated was a little over a year ago. Untangling myself from her web of possessiveness proved trickier than I thought with so many unsavory experiences; especially her exceptional detective skills that I’d rather not talk about. I’ll leave it at that.
Yes, Christy…she said her name was Christy. She wore her hair long and natural. She wore light make-up which perfectly accentuated her pretty face. She was fair in complexion in stark contrast to my dark. But then, fair complexioned ladies always found me attractive. She had ordered and was eating alone, deeply engrossed in her blackberry. I studied her as I ordered my lunch. I surmised she would be in her late 20′s or early 30′s. She didn’t wear much jewelry. No ring on her finger. She spent more time on her phone rather than on her nearly untouched meal; a clear indication she was in no hurry. However, the usual signals I usually seek before I moved in on a prey were absent (trade mark secrets so I ain’t telling!). Here was an absolutely confident woman who reeked of success. If there was any chink in her armor, she hid it well and to find it, I’d have to get close.
I picked up my lunch, paid for it and went straight towards her table. She seemed to take notice and she looked up at me. For a split second, I saw something in there as our eyes met. Yeah…I’m not bragging but I usually have that effect on women. She looked away as I got to her table.
“Hi, hope you don’t mind if I join you?” I said. She looked up and shrugged. The silent treatment eh, I thought. I sat down directly across her and pretended to be engrossed in my meal. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her steal a look. She seemed be a bit uncomfortable with my nonchalant presence but didn’t make any attempt to leave. Nearly half way through my meal, I said, “I see you have hardly touched your meal for almost fifteen minutes now.”
My statement surprised her and she looked up from her mobile phone. I continued, “Hope everything’s ok?”
“You’ve been monitoring me, haven’t you?” She said, her voice low and sweet. A light smile had formed across her pretty lips.
“Well, I admit I have. You are certainly worth monitoring.” I said and flashed my most charming smile.
“I’m Michael…”, I said extending my hand which she took. Her hand was soft, very soft. “…but you can call me Mick.”
“I’m Christy.” She said, smiling. Beautiful lips.
“I have a confession Christy. One I hope you’ll bear with me for sharing” I said apologetically. “I woke up this morning with a very special feeling…one that I couldn’t explain, until now.”
“What do you mean?” She asked, a bit taken aback.
“There was something special about today that I didn’t understand but finally I did when I saw you.”
I saw many things in her eyes. Shock, incredulity, surprise but repulse wasn’t one of them. She dropped her phone close to her barely touched meal which consisted of just a plate of Coleslaw and surveyed me critically. I put on my game face, meal pushed aside.
“I’m impressed.” She said. “Those are excellent pick up lines. Do girls usually fall for them?” She asked, mockingly.
“They are not pick up lines,” I said calmly, maintaining my intense stare.
“Merely an expression of my feelings. There was a promise of beauty in my life today and I’ve just come face to face with it.”
There was a small frown, but it was gone in a second. I could imagine the turmoil going through her mind. I had sowed a seed and it would germinate. My stare continued and she grew uncomfortable. She reached for her unopened bottle of water, almost knocking it down. With amazing reflex, I caught it, broke the seal and handed it back to her. Her fingers brushed mine as she retrieved it back. She unscrewed the cap, took two quick gulps and replaced the cap.
“What do you want from me?” She asked.
“Just your number” I said meekly as I brought out my phone and handed it to her. She took it without hesitation and typed in her number. I dialed the number as soon as she handed my phone back.
“Don’t you trust that I gave you the right number?” She asked, laughing.
“There’s that but I want you to have my number as well.” I said smiling. Her phone vibrated on the table and I cut the call. I rose up.
“Christy, you just made my day.” I extended my hand again and when I received hers, this time I kissed it. She went bright red.
Without another word, I turned and walked towards the exit. I could feel her eyes boring holes in my back and I was suddenly cautious about missing a step. It was a relief to walk out the eatery establishment without any form of mishap. She would be mine by weekend.
(To Be Continued...)
Malcolm O. Ifi.
Follow on twitter @saymalcolm
Copyright © 2012 Malcolm O. Ifi.
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