She was too drunk to go home alone, and I was too horny to let her go. My house was closer than hers, but she insisted that I walk her home.
Glory and I were the last two customers at the bar. Every other lounger had left hours before we did. The bartender must have been bidding the time when we would stop ordering for more drinks to throw us out and close for the night. I am sure the time was few minutes to midnight when she started nagging me to walk her home. I gathered our things- mobile phones, her handbag, purse and the half-empty bottle of the Alomo Bitters I had been nursing. I settled the bills.
I got off the stool gingerly, but firmly. I helped her off the stool, and she crumbled into me. Her head on my shoulder and her dead weight almost toppling me over, but by some inner strength or sheer willpower I didn’t keel over. She let off a raucous and tunless laughter at her own clumsiness, or my Quixotic show of manliness. I gathered her into my arms, holding tightly to her sagging lump. The motion crushed her voluptuous breasts hard against my chest. She steadied, and started to sway gently to the beat of “introduction… I’m in love with my boo… first of all, are you a learner? …go down low… Go down low” still playing but less loudly than previously that night when the dancefloor was crowded. Her motion coupled with her body heat set my body fluid racing. I was even salivating, and some sort of storm was brewing in my groin region. I sought out her lips with mine, found them, I kissed her good, and she kissed me back and hard, as if she would suck my adventurous soul into her body.
I am not a good dancer by nature, and when she had danced earlier that evening, as loud music boomed out of the great loud speakers, and the crowded dance floor had seethed with sweating male and female bodies, another guy had held her that close, spiking my jealousy and my libido. “I have her now, I am not going to lose her to another for the night, so help me God” I pledged to myself, silently. I have been aiming to lay Glory for week, and days, but coquet that she was, she’d been toying with my emotions. She had encouraged me to chase her, and I played my part very well as much as I know of the Game of Seduction. I had fully engaged my macho charms, and created new ones in the process. But when it comes to the kill she always get away, or repel my advances. I am not of the run of men who give up the hunt quickly in the face of daunting challenges, but I gave up trying too hard. I forego aiming to fuck her, and called off the chase. We called a truce, and became friends; Good Friends without benefits. So good was our friendship and trust that she’d hung out with me that material evening, in a crowded bar. Everyone had paired off, and we were the two last standing man and woman.
For the moment her breasts pressed against my chest, I felt the heat of her burned through my clothes, heating me up and further awakening my libidinal ardour.
“Babe, you sure say you fit go house like this? make we kuku lodge till daybreak na. I still hold some cash”
I whispered into her ear when we broke up the kiss. That seemed to activate some mechanism in her demeanour. She suddenly, stiffened, and backed off from me. Her eyes opening wider than I had seen them. The new stance and the glint in her glazed eyes were frightening and reassuring at the same time, but I interpreted her move as a romantic call. That coquet, she knew how to work me. But she shook her head and said in slurred, husky voice:
“I wan’ go house, abi you no go escort me?”.
“Baby, me self I done waste as I dey like this so, and time self done go far make we lodge na”,
I replied in a voice I hoped was as husky as my alcohol-fuddled brain would allow, and as sexy as the swelling in my groin was sure.
“ABEG! GIVE ME MY BAG, MAKE I DEY GO! IF YOU WAN’ FUCK, YOU NO KNOW WHERE ASHAWO DEY? …I BE LIKE ASHAWO FOR YOUR EYE?”
I am sure those words came out in capitals, and these exclamation marks are not exaggerated. The rebuke should really have quenched my zeal to get laid, in fact, it deleted the erotic intent on my mind, but the gloriously-painful turgidity inside my pants would not abate. She snatched her handbag off my shoulder, and staggered away from me, swaying and vibrating her butty (for my benefit). I followed, and that was good thinking on my part, because I was right there to catch her as she tottered and would have crashed into the flower pot by the exit door.
Outside of the motel’s premises, she tripped on my wobbly legs, or was it I who tripped on the wedges she wore on her feet? But she fell down flat on her butt, on the culvert just by the gutter. I was still holding on to her, as we crashed together; I on top, she below me. What made me think it was a great moment to go in for the kill, must have been a alcohol-induced delusion; I locked my lips on hers, and was rewarded with a resounding slap, that cleared the cloud inside my head momentarily. She swung out in another slap but I caught her hand in mid-action, and restrained her. We struggled a bit as we lay there beside the gutter.
“Christ, you wan’ rape me? I go shout for your head o!”
I saw fire or what looked like it in her blazing eyes. I got off and help her up. Just across the gate of the motel was my house. As I contemplated my gate, a dirty thought began to form on my mind. A laughter also began to bubble from the pit of my liquor-filled belly to my lips, but what came out was a puke, and I gushed it onto her bosom. For a moment, everything went quiet and blank… Then the stars came out twinkling in stark brilliance… A hand was going through my hip pocket, I caught the hand as it pulled out my hanky.
“Wait, make I clean your worwor face, odoyor… you don’ high like mumu.”
She scolded as I became aware that we were already inside my compound. I was home, home where the heart was. And Glory was still with me, “ah, what would I not give for a night nurse?” I mused to myself, or maybe I thought it aloud. I felt like singing and break-dancing. The suggestion must have seemed very funny, as somebody began to chuckle. I stopped when I realised that the silly sound was actually coming from my throat.
“na monkite wey you take top the shak na him dey worry you so… Akpos like you… Odoyor”
I heard her echo from a distance.
How I liked Glory’s ministrations… She’d been holding my head as I bent forward under the tap. The cool refreshing water poured over me. It felt like paradise, and Glory and I were Adam and Eve, alone in the world. A rhymed verse had occurred to me in a flitting instant, but it was washed away in the cascade of water, and as the fuzzy haze begun to lift off from around my dripping head. What remained was shadows of memories.
I could remember in sketches, that Glory have had more of the psychedelic concoction- Monkite- than I did. Monkite was served free in the bar, and she never stopped swilling the concoction with every bottle of Stout she’d tucked away. I had made good with Alomo Bitters, supplementing with Monkite to make my it last. I shouldn’t be the one losing it, and needing help. She should be the one resuscitating under the tap, or wasted on my bed, that night. In fact I should have had her on my bed as at that moment. By and by, I had begun to regained appreciable control of myself, but lost control of my erratic libido.
We sat down on the bench on my veranda. The constant hum of the noisy Oil City of Warri played on. We were talking about things, inconsequential things. I can recall her nudging me to walk her home, and I not heeding her request until we both quieten down to a soporific stupor. What I can remember vividly was her body- limp, head resting on my shoulder, and arms around my neck, and my throbbing shaft threatening to bust the zipped fly of my Jeans, also how I reciprocated,and how I forgot my morals.
I remember stroking her back up and down, and played timidly with the straps of her bra. At a time, my right arm was pressing down hard on her heaving breast, and she didn’t seem harried in the least. Her face turned up to mine, so close, I felt her hot liquor-reeking breath warm my cheek and neck. My hand had begun to fondle her big breasts; kneading and squeezing them, albeit gently, and as nicely as I could manage, that time. Her eyes were closed. Reeking breath coming faster. Her heaving bosom increased its tempo when my hand, the same right hand, went under her blouse to free, the boobs from the hold of the bra cups. Her arms around my neck had begun to constrict me. I took that as a good sign.
I succeeded in exposing one of her warm breasts. It must have been the right breast or the left one, but I didn’t stop to see which, in the darkness, as I hastily, brought my mouth to the nutty nipple. I nibbled the hardened tit with my lips, and gentle grazed the region around the tit with my teeth. I was alternating the action with licks and lusty suckles. She moved her body harder against me. I felt encouraged, but the swelling in my crouch had reached a discomfiting level at that point.
What a blessing it was that my night nurse was responding to my ministration too? Then she seemed to awakened from a deep slumber. She retrieved her breast from my sucking, but replaced it with her mouth. The kissing was deep and slurpy. The tongues teased, chased, and wrestled each other. I felt her hand working on the zip of my fly- in my mind, I was screaming “hurrah! You go, girl”. My own hand had slipped into her crouch. The legs parted without further prompting. The hand which seemed to have a will of its own played with the pubic hair briefly before it went probing down, down, down until the middle finger disappeared into the space it created between the two succulent labia of her warm, wet and ready coochy. The probing finger dipped deeply, curving this way and that way, pulled out gently, and nicely rubbing upward. I felt her shudder as the finger repeatedly dipped, lingered, pulled out gently in spiral fashion, rubbing back and upward at where her clitoris should be situated. She rewarded my sexual overtures with subdued moaning, and that encouraged me to hope for what was to come.
Her pussy was getting wetter and making my probing finger more slippery by the minute; and the kissing was going from frenchy to frenchier. I was liking the foreplay. She got my fully erect dick out and squeezing the tip and stroking the shaft, it was my turn to moan. At once, she stopped, pulled away, breaking the kiss and ending th Quest of my probing finger. She brought her head down to my crouch, her hair fell forward, and shielded her action from my view, as if I I could have seen what she was up to in the surrounding darkness. But my kinetic sense jolted more awake as I felt a warm wetness enveloped my prick halfway to the base, and sucking it back up to the helmet and clamping harded on the tip.
“Hail Mary, full of grace…” Were words I must have uttered involuntarilly. I was soon fit to burst apart after a few superb strokes. I could have given her my head on a platter at that moment if she’d asked for it. I felt rather than saw an ILLUMINATION, “oh glory, glory, hallelujah” were other string of words that came to my mind as my eyes were widely shut in ecstasy. My eyes were turned up into my head. I could see that all things had become “bright and beautiful…” I felt like screaming as hot honey drained from my brains, seeped down my spine, gathered at the bottom, and was just about to spurt, beautifully, gloriously, and ecstatically, out through my very hard penis… “illumination… lightening… how bright and beautiful… Was all things” echoed and kept reverberating in my mind, when Glory suddenly pulled away from me interrupting the play. She seemed harangued, and she was prining, and righting her crumpled dress and ruffled hair. I saw then that the veranda light was in full glare. Either NEPA had restored power, or my cousin had switched on the light. And there he was, my cousin, standing over us.
Good griefs! For how long has the light been on? And for how long has the moron been there, observing us? the bloody bastard!
Glory grabbed her handbag, and hastened away, as the idiot cousin of mine walk over me towards the over-head water-storage tank to switch the water pump on. I quick packed my dick into the open fly of my pants, but not before semen had spurted; shooting out and cascading back down to soil my Levi Strauss Jean. Damnations! the spoiler was not supposed to be inside the room, I had told him earlier in the evening that I am most likely bringing a chic home for the night so he may spend the night elsewhere.
I got up, and chased after Glory as she swiftly vacated the premise of erotic fiasco.