Yesterday couldn’t have been more fun. The good boy in me feels I need spiritual cleansing while the street-me thinks I’m just ‘enjoying’ my youth; whatever the case, I feel good with myself.
Getting heartbroken isn’t something easy to deal. I knew visiting Kay at Abuja would be helpful; so I did. He would have no part hearing me suck over a lady after such a long time and adviced we hangout. I am not the club-type; I suggested we just get a bar close-by that evening, drink with his friends, stay real late into the night and return home at whatever time ‘vision is a little blurred’. Kay concurred.
Right from the very minute I spotted her, I knew she had a thing for me; either she passionately hated me or she liked me. She came with a guy for a drink. She was sitted directly before me on the other table. The guy she came with had his back to me. The way they were dressed showed they had worked late and decided to catch-a-drink together. They must be colleagues, I said to myself.
I don’t do beer; I prefer vodka, against whatever the doctors think might be wrong with that. Intermittently, we locked gazes and she smiles at me. After drenching myself, I was up for ‘the talk’ with a little extra dose of evil-confidence that accompanies drinking, praying that for whatever reason, I should be alone with the lady, even if it’s for a minute. I needed to know what the smile meant.
The guy stood up. Spontaneously, I walked towards her table. As if she read my mind, she stretched her hands forward and I gave her my unlocked phone. She typed her number. I took the phone, nodded and walked away. Not a word was said.
Settling in my seat, I saved her number and straight-up texted her. Instincts right, they were colleagues. Texting got flirty and she perspicaciously led me on.
We were at it for close to 2hours. By now, it was almost 10pm. She texted she had to leave. I replied, asking if I could briefly see her. ‘Come to the car park 7minutes after I step out’ was her exact reply. I guess she needed to ‘free’ her colleague.
All the while, I was barely contributing to whatever discussion was up at our table. I was more into reading and replying her text than joining their discussion. I tapped Kay on the shoulder and whispered I had to go out. I stood up and had barely walked five steps when I got a text directing me to the almost dark end of the car park. I guessed she must have seen me stand through the exquisitely lit, transparent glass structure that housed the bar.
As in the text, I saw her car’s rear lights flash. I found her sitting on her car bonnet, more in the dark part of the car park. Without letting me say a word, she walked towards me, pulled me closer to herself and kissed me. Boom! That was all I needed.
Kissing graduated into pulling her real close to me, working and walking my hands to her back, through her out-of-tuck shirt. My hands are soft and I made them work-and-walk more delicately. I couldn’t unbutton her shirt in that nobody’s car park; I had to ‘manage’ walking my hands to the front and sifting them under the not too tight bra to ‘work on’ her smart boobs.
Before long, she gently pushed me to sit on the bonnet, unzipped my jean and loosely pulled it down, leaving it hanging from my thigh. She ‘sang with my mike’. After a while, I couldn’t have it anymore, and I lifted her up. I gently pulled her close to me, raised her not-too-tight skirt up, shifted her undies and had her ‘sit on the nail’ with her feet on the car bonnet. ‘Ride’ was fun with lots of kisses. Her highly sensitive moaning made it even more romantic.
We were at it when she sighted a man approaching the car park. Damn! We hadn’t even stayed 30minutes at the car park alone! Couldn’t this man had waited a little longer? Why ruin this mad fun for me? I knew we had come to end of our ‘session’.
We hurriedly dressed up. As much as I tried to get her talking, she only smiled with looks that passed messages; even when I asked for her name. I kissed her and watched her drive off. I sent Kay a text and he brought the car keys outside. I took his car perfume, applied a few shots, and returned to the bar.
“I’m home. I enjoyed myself. I had fun, thank you. And I wanted to tell you my name, but I’m dumb” was the text I got few minutes after she left. I couldn’t believe what I read, but almost immediately, I remembered she didn’t say a word to me in person; she only moaned. She may be truly deaf, but she was fun. Mad fun.
Tommy Winson.
