I am sure her braids were made of strips of rawhide. The wind was mercilessly flogging my face with the million braids, but I was not fazed. It kept me awake and alert, lest I fall asleep ridding on an Okada behind a delectable chic . I don’t mind too, the metal rail that was making minced meat of my pelvic bones. I was practically perched on the edge of the seat as her fanny was pressing down heavily, and pushing back, hard against me crouch, ouch!.
She was a drop-dead gorgeous diva- looking like she just walked out off the cover of a PlayBoy magazine. She got a face like Omotola, Hips like Beyoncé, and , a figure Shakira will be envious of. Those emerald eyes must never have seen evil, nor has that wine-red-lip-sticked pouting kisser, emitted any foul word. A man will go verily, verily, on straight to heaven if those well-turned legs should wrap around his midriff; and…maaaaan… those tempting-to-touch thighs, the entire lengths of them barely concealed by a pair of denim shorts, are a artist’s masterpiece. Those legs, if they should straddle a brotha , walahi, he will find himself floating in fluffy clouds amongst the stars of the 7th heaven. I can kill myself to get such visa. But I want to stay earth-bound if such heavenly creatures as this winsome lass could be found on here.
I found a little heaven in that beyoncé asrse sitting right on top of my balls. It could have been hell: the ride was one bumpy grind: the frequent bouncing of the Okada, in-and-out, in-and-out, in-and-out of unending potholes on the road to mile-2 from Okokomaiko, almost made it a hell for me. Her heavy bums were scrambling my eggs and making puddings of my Banana. A sizzling Hell that was.
But murder she, wrote. I got off the bike before her, having arrived at my bus stop. I really couldn’t go on with the torture. You would think a brotha should prolong the sweet sensations, and “ride or die”, but my rationality geared into motion. The pain was fast superseding what small pleasures there were. I had the good sense or stupidity to save my life to get down, and not go on to Oshodi-Isalé, or wherever she might be headed. I must have paid her fare in that daze, but I can’t remember such insignificant occurrence now. I have my mind on to-do things for next opportunity.
Define excruciating pain, something more than that is what I feel all over me. My eyes, I can no more open then wide enough in the blazing glare of the sun- they hurt like hell would, having been whooped so mercilessly by La Femmé Fatalé’s Million-And-One Braids. I could virtually see the redness of my sore eyes. It is a sorry thing. My balls, having taken so much hit, I can’t feel them no more, I’m sure they’re done for, this time, and lost for good; those goodly eggs , the pair of them; My Bum-bum is toast for sure; It must have swollen to 6-times its usual twin-burger size, and burnt so black it’s blue. The poor thing has been constantly chafed and pounded by the metallic part of the bike’s seat. I can’t even touch them now, because they feel like fire when touched.
How I endured all that grilling beats me. I can’t even account for what I got out of being an uncomplaining gentleman. But in all christian honesty, I can’t say I have given up my body for persecution for nothing. Reminiscent now (some of the pains assuaged) I count it all joy. Yesiree. I does.
I remember that Mona Lisa smile, O…M…G…! O.M.f**king.G! how my heart skipped ten beats and did a hundred flips in a second. Her smile had started from deep within those universes in her doe-like eyes, diffused to the Red-Hot-kisser, and spread wanly over the angelic-visage, and gave light to the stars. In there is the potency to turn the North Pole into Eden of flowers. That face- the heart-shape of it; the cherubim dimples; that graceful fulani-maiden neck balancing the pretty head; the so-so lovely twin-hills jutting off that heaving bosom; whoever has them can do no wrong. You know why? Because they can only belong to an angel.
I still think I deserved to have that angel for my forbearance and long suffering. Yes, I think, therefore I do!