Story: True Life Story Of An Addict

8 years ago

Story: True Life Story Of An Addict

I woke up some minutes past 5 confused by that disturbing revelation from Deola. Wetin I go do now sef? Should I tell her I’m not ready for love now? Common sense slapped my conscience that if truly I wasn’t ready for her love, I shouldn’t have reeled into her sweet p***y at all. But now that I’ve tasted it, there is no going back. Na to just go and strategize and come up with a master plan to play around these 3 girls without creating any awareness or leaving any trace of cheating behind.

I entered Deola’s bathroom to take my bath. Her bathroom is just too superb. She’s got a bathtub, taps for hot and cold water, a clean white towel and a mirror whose height is as tall as I am. For a start, I undressed myself & stood before the mirror to admire myself and my arsenal. I turned left and right to see if I look the part. Am I really cute and s*xy**? For a quick glance, I checked my d**k which was already in full Attention; apparently due to the chilling condition of Deola’s bathroom or still revelling in the euphoria of penetrating Deola hours ago. I felt proud of myself, my Johnny and my luck!

After my bath, I got dressed to go home. I called Ini to inform her that I am on my way home. As for Cynthia, we still dey quarrel. I am not going to call or text her until she realise her wrong and apologise. As I was trying to lock the gate, a girl walked by. She looked so clean, tight and pretty. For my mind I was like, “Na Mammywaters dey live for this area?” She’s got a really big ukwu that can make one speak in tongue. Sharply, I locked the gate and started walking the path of the girl. She wore a long red gown that brought out all her glorious shape. A moderate height, ebony skin, white teeth and long hair.

Me: Good morning.

She turned herself about to see who is greeting. She scanned me from head to toe, sizing me up and my essense. She replied,

Girl: Good morning. Do I know you somewhere?

Me: No. I don’t think you’ve met someone like me. And truth be told, I don’t think I’ve seen a girl like you around this vicinity.

Girl: I don’t stay around here. I came to see someone but he’s not at home.

A he? Maybe her boyfriend. One could sense a tone of disappointment in her voice as she said of not meeting the guy at home.

Me: Didn’t you tell him you are coming?

Girl: It’s a little complicated. We had a quarrel last night at the club, and since then, he has been refusing to talk to me.

Me: I am sorry. Though this is none of my business but I think he’s a little harsh. I am Femi by the way.

Girl: I am Janet.

Me: So where are you heading now, Janet?

Janet: I’m going back home.

Me: Where is that?

Janet: Badore, Ajah.

Me: Wow! That far? I stay close by here in Ikate.

I made sure I followed her to bus stop. She was very sober that evening. I kinda felt sorry for her. When we got to the bus stop, she crossed to the other side to get a bus home. I brought out my wallet secretly, counted like 4k out of the 7k I had with me and gave it to her,

Me: Please Janet, I know you don’t know me and I don’t know you but, sometimes, this is how good friendship starts. Here is a token for your transport home. And please, stop being sober. He might answer the next call.

She looked at me a little surprised. I stretched my hands towards her with the money codedly wrapped up in my hand. She slowly took the money from me and said,

Janet: I don’t know what to say.

Me: Say nothing Janet. It’s nice meeting you.

Janet: Me too. Please can I have your pin, mobile, email…anything?

Me: That’s no problem.

I gave her my phone number and BB Pin and I collected hers too. I watched as she joined a bus home. She waved to me and I waved back.

*Dodges slap… stones… cutlass… bottles.* No be my fault now.

I called Ini when I got home. She sounded a little relieved and happy.

Ini: Welcome back. I will see you when I close tonight so that I can prepare the poundo yam for you. I hope you’ve taken something sha to keep you up?

Come ke? Wey Deola dey come in the evening?

Me: Don’t bother to come again tonight. I will be fine. I will send Garfar to you now. Please give him a bottle of chin-chin and 5 Alive Juice. I’ll eat that before I make eba for tonight.

Ini: Why Femi? I missed you.

Me: I missed you too my queen but I am a little stressed out and tired. Let’s make it tomorrow ok? I promise you, I will decorate you beyond measure.

Ini: Ok oo. If you say so.

Me: Thank you for understanding me my queen.

Ini: You’re welcome my king.

I called Deola too to inform her that I am home already,

Me: Hey D. How are you? I am home.

Deola: Ok Femi. Pele. Did you get my text?

Me: I do Deola.

Deola: So? What do you think?

Me: I think we need to see and talk things out…as mature guys, you know?

Deola: That sounds nice. I’ll see you on my way home tonight. What should I get you?

Me: Get me anything that is Femi-complaint, especially the one that comes from your heart.

Deola: Your words can make a dumb speak. Stop twisting my head!

I never expected anything from Janet, save her call or text message thanking me for the little gift I gave her. Besides, I was sincerely hoping and wishing that she reconcile with her boyfriend. There was no thought of any relationship with her whatsoever. I’ve got 3 ladies already to deal with, I no get the liver to add another one. Although Ini calls me a king, my kind of king is not the pre-colonial Nigeria kind of kings. They lived exuberantly, ruled autocratically and authoritatively without apology. Some of them compel’d & forced themselves on beautiful ladies they met on the road. They don’t care if such a lady has a fiance or not. In fact, some of them go to the extent eliminating a stubborn fiance who is not willing to let go his bethroded wife. My own kind of king, according to Ini, is simple, considerate, open-hearted, fun, caring and know how to please his woman IN ALL WAYS.

That’s by the way though.

I got home around 6pm. I called Ini to inform her of my arrival and my intention to send Garfar right away for the package. Garfar came back with the package…and a short stapled white paper. I opened up the paper and saw a message from Ini,

“I Love you baby. I missed you so much. Stop startving me. Should I come tonight?”

I smiled upon reading the message. I texted her back that,

“Baby I wish so. I love you and I’ve missed you too. I am weak tonight. I promise you, before this time tomorrow, I will be fine.”

Lest I bore you guys with my love stories about Ini, I believe I have said enough about how strong my love for her is; regardless other pu**ies around me. I assured her that evening that all will be well soon enough.

I sent Deola a message too that I am at my place. Her first concern was if I locked her gate. She no even let that one wait. Deola walk around with love and hate.

I went inside the kitchen to see for myself the soup Ini cooked. There is no doubting Ini’s skill in the kitchen. A yoruba adage said that, “food is the gateway to a man’s heart…and a woman who expresses her skills in the kitchen, owns the man.” Ini, both in the kitchen and on bed, is a flawless woman. The soup was superbly cooked and made ready. I made eba for myself and a little for Deola in case she wanna eat.

Around 9pm, when Ini had long gone home, Deola arrived. Now a regular in the eyes of Garfar, she enjoyed free entry and exit into my house with no questions asked. A knock on the door signaled her arrival,

Me: Who’s there?

Deola: Who else are you expecting?

Me: No one but you actually.

Deola: Better.

I opened the door and she came inside,

Me: Welcome dear.

Deola: Thanks baby. Can I have a hug please?

We hugged and I pecked her.

Me: How was your day?

Deola: It went pretty well. And yours?

Me: I’ve been sleeping all day. I am just too tired.

Deola: Why are you tired?

She asked cynically with one of her eyes rolled up in anticipation of my reply.

Me: You asked as if you don’t know the Royal Rumble that happened on your bed this morning.

Deola: Femi oooo! What Royal Rumble? Is my room Madison Square Garden?

Me: Na you sabi. What did you bring for me?

Deola: Hmmmm! Good question.

She dropped her bag and began to empty it until she carefully brought out a black small nylon. She handed it over to me and said,

Deola: That’s what my heart decides to buy for you. Know this that you are more than this anytime, anyday.

When I unwrapped the bag, I saw a gold wrist-watch and a new Blackberry phone! Jesus! I don enter am. Ha? This expensive things just for me? The last time I priced that wrist-watch at Silverbird Galleria, VI, the price was around 50k. She got me the latest Blackberry Bold then, sold for 93k. I stayed mute because I was short of words. I couldn’t say anything. I just kept looking at her, not knowing if I should scream for joy or not. I was hit with reality that Deola has truly fallen in love with me. Those gifts were to prove it beyond any reasonable doubt that she meant it when she said those words.

Deola: Why are you quiet? Don’t you like them?

Me: I am quiet because I don’t know what to say. If I do know what to say then I don’t know how to say it. If I know how to say it then I think I lack the capacity to say it. If I do have the capacity to say it then I think I am not worthy to say it. I am confused right now.

Deola: Femi! It’s just a gift. Please manage them. I would have done more but I…

Me: Done more? These right here can get me a return ticket to London conveniently.

Deola: Hahahah! Femi ooo. You’re a clown.

Me: In fact, call me your fool; I will surely and gladly be one for you. I am grateful Deola. God bless you.

I stood up from my sit and went to where she was. I gave her a firm hug and a warm kiss. She held me tight and adjusted her mouth so that the kiss can penetrate more. After the kiss, she asked,

Deola: You told me that you want us to talk as mature guys earlier today. What is it about?

Me: Deola, don’t trouble yourself. It doesn’t matter anymore!