I started preparing for my service year. Most of the next semester was spent on filling out clearance forms, paying off one fee or the other, and waiting for the posting list to come out. When that came a couple of months later, I was happy to find out I was posted to Enugu state. I had in the meantime started a small job to occupy my time while I waited for my call-up letter. I wasn’t in school much after my graduation, but I made sure I kept in touch with Yewande. We chatted every day. There was no day she didn’t tell me how much she missed me. I told her I would come by the school to see her one day. I kept sending money to her account whenever she needed something, and sometimes I did without any reason. This went on and on for the next few months.
Then the day came that totally changed everything for me. It was my dad’s 65th birthday, and we celebrated it on a grand scale. We had upwards of a hundred guests that day. I was the host of the occasion, and was involved with so many things that day. Trust my lazy farts of brothers, they rather just hung out with their friends and left me to do everything. I had to delegate two of my cousins to make sure things ran smoothly. I didn’t want to let my anger at my brothers ruin anything for the old man; this was something I was going to iron out later.
I had invited Yewande to the party and she came along with Aijay and Susan. I was so busy moving around, so I had to assign someone to take care of them. Every now and then, I made sure to check up on them, and at one point I met my brother at the table where they sat. Susan and Aijay were nowhere to be found. I could tell she was laughing at something he was saying. His eyes met mine from across the hall and he quickly averted them. I casually walked over and when Yewande saw me, she quickly stood up and gave me a hug. I asked her if she was okay and where her friends were. She told me Susan left as she had to be home to prepare her family’s evening meal. Aijay had gone home as well. I told her I was sorry that I abandoned her as I was just running around making sure everything was going on well, and she told me not to worry. She understood I was busy, and was happy I invited her. I promised her that I would come over and check her again soon. I glared at my brother, who took a step back and disappeared before I left.
That “soon” did not arrive until much later. By then it was going to eight in the evening and guests had already started leaving. I got some time to check up on Yewande again but she was not at her seat. I asked one of the other ladies who was still at the table if she had seen her. She told me she had followed my brother but did not know which direction they headed. I tried calling her but she did not pick up her phone. I tried her again with the same result. I ran into one of my cousins who was helping me out and he told me he saw them heading towards the lakeside cabana, which was quite secluded from the rest of the party.
I quietly walked down the dark path towards the structure. Approaching it, I could hear the unmistakable laughter of Yewande and voice of my brother coming from within. I heard her laughter again and what sounded like a moan. I peered around the corner. There, in a dark corner, sat both of them. Yewande was sitting astride in my brother’s laps. His hands were all over her body and they were literally devouring each other’s mouths. I stood watching them for a few moments before I stepped back and sat on a nearby rock. Both of them were unaware of my presence. They were in there for close to another ten minutes before I heard another word from any of them.
“Let’s go, your brother will be wondering where I am,” I heard Yewande say.
“Don’t worry about him, I’m sure he wouldn’t even notice you left.”
I chuckled where I sat throwing rocks across the surface of the pond.
“Oh,” I heard her exclaim and hiss, “he has even called me!”
“Relax, you will tell him you went to the restroom.”
They both walked out of the cabana. Yewande was trying to button up her top. They both froze in shock when they saw me sitting there.
“Shit!” I heard my brother swear under his breath.
I ignored him and turned to Yewande. She didn’t seem scared or anything. She only buttoned her top up and straightened it out properly. I did not even have the energy to yell at either of them.
“Just tell me the truth,” I asked her, “do you want to be with me or him?”
She did not need words to convey her response. Her arm instinctively wrapped around his and she rested her head on his shoulder. I nodded.
“I just wanted to be sure. I hope he makes you happy.” I turned and headed up the dark path back to the party. I heard my brother call my name, and then Yewande say something about letting me go. Each word felt like a dagger to my back.
About ten weeks later, the school sent out an email stating our call-up letters Maltepe Escort were ready. I went to get mine about four days before camp was to open. The only person who knew I had come was my roommate. School was in full swing then, so that night, I took a final walk around campus, reminiscing about all the years I spent there. I took one last peek at the hall I read at night; it was mostly packed with students at that time of the semester. My thoughts travelled back to the day I met Yewande, and I quickly pushed them out of my head. I don’t know why, but deep in my heart I hoped I would run into her that night. I had made up my mind that it was best I let go and move on. She had stabbed me in the back twice, and that was more than enough pain. I also felt it was not worth confronting my brother about it. He hadn’t said anything to me about the incident, and the last time I saw him, I believed I detected a smirk of triumph in his eyes. Well, I consoled myself, there’s no point in me fighting with him over a woman. I would rather let her go and face my lane. The major thing I learnt from the experience was to NEVER let him near him to any girl I was interested in. I bade the school a final goodbye before heading back to my room.
The three weeks orientation camp passed quickly, and I found myself posted to one secondary school for my primary assignment. I wasn’t able to get a room in the lodge that was provided by the school for fresh corpers like me, so I ended up getting a place about ten minutes okada-ride(commercial bike-ride) away. The landlady lived in the large mansion and she rented the boys’ quarters of the large building to me. I found out she was a very wealthy businesswoman as she owned several large stores in the central market where she sold foodstuff, clothes, beauty products and other things, so she was out most of the day to attend to them.
When she learnt I taught mathematics and economics in the secondary school nearby, she asked me to tutor her only daughter who had finished her high school exams over a year ago but was stuck at the JAMB hurdle. Her daughter had just returned from her father’s house in Lagos and from what I saw when I met her, Amaka didn’t look her young age at all. Tall, voluptuous, and flirty were the words that came to my mind the first time her mother introduced her to me. She had an affinity to wear tight-fitting clothes that showed off her generous curves and was always at one party or birthday. Her father had tried encourage her to take her life more serious and be more attentive to her studies to no avail. This was going to be her third time attempting the tertiary entry exams, and her mother literally went on her knees and begged me to do all I could to make her pass. She didn’t want a high school drop out as a daughter. I promised her I would do my best, but it was up to her daughter as well.
Over the next several months I prepared her as best as I could. Every Saturday morning before the English Premiership matches started, I gave her some lessons for about three hours. At first, she wasn’t serious and was more interested in asking about my love life and seeing the final answers to the problems than with how I got said answers, but with further encouragement, prodding, and sometimes anger, she began to listen. When she finally took the exam and her results came out, she scored quite high, which was more than good enough to get her admitted into the university for her course of study. When I returned from school that evening, she literally jumped into my arms and planted kisses all over my face and mouth and hugged me fiercely as she squealed in glee. Her mother was so happy and thanked me profusely, almost weeping over the phone in the process. She told me I did not know how much this meant to her; I had covered her shame. Her daughter had finally passed her exams and was going to the university, something her other older children refused to do. They preferred to go into business but that is another story entirely.
Afterwards, Amaka became unusually “friendly” towards me. She would coyly flirt with me on occasions, licking her wet lips in a seductive manner while staring at me with her glazed eyes. She once “brushed” off an imaginary speck of dust on my shirt one morning I was going to school. She stood so close to me, my nostrils inhaled the sweet fragrance of her perfume. The brush was more of a caress, and the way she traced her delicate finger down my chest as she soothed me with her low, sexy voice conveyed more meaning than I wanted to admit…
…until that fateful day a couple of weeks later. Tuesdays were usually my community development service days. That morning, I left early as I knew we mostly just hung out doing nothing but gist to while away the time. I flirted with the thought of going to school to grade the economics test I had given one Cevizli Escort of the SS2 classes the day before, but decided to go home and catch a nap instead.
I got home around one o’clock in the afternoon. I changed out of my corper gear and just as I was about to lay down on my bed I heard a soft knock on my door. I was mildly surprised to see Amaka walk in. She hadn’t been in my room since she took her exams and I asked her why she came since I no longer had to teach her anything. She said she saw me coming in and decided to come over to hang out with me as she was bored since everyone had gone out and she was the only one at home. I offered her a can of Schweppes and we settled down to watch a movie on Africa Magic.
She lay beside me on the bed and surprisingly snuggled up into my arms. I had noticed when she came in that she had on a snug long-sleeved black dress and now I could feel her body pressed against me. Unfortunately, when I got back earlier I had worn an old singlet and a pair of shorts with no boxers. To make matters even worse, she flung her arm over my chest and cuddled up to me. With her now half lying on top of me, my arm draped across her shoulders. Her head rested on my chest and she focused her attention on the movie. I took a breathfull of the scent of her hair. I absentmindedly caressed her shoulder, then ran my hand down her arm. She didn’t say anything, so I took it further by rubbing her back and down her side to her waist, and over hips to her thigh. I encountered no forms of contours and it was then I realized she wore nothing underneath her dress. That realization triggered some thoughts in my brain. I tried to will my manhood down but it seemed to have developed a mind of its own, and before I knew it I had formed a glaring bulge in my shorts.
Amaka noticed the crisis going on and her eyes grew wide in surprise. She looked up at me and I began to apologize. To my utter astonishment, she reached out to caress it. I felt the blood rush as it grew harder. I tried to tell her to stop, but she only looked at me with a mischievous smirk on her face. She pulled the band over and it popped out into view. She grabbed it and started to stroke, stating she hadn’t felt one that big before. In spite of my reservations, I reached out to cup and squeeze her breasts. She made it easier for me by pulling them out over the neckline of her dress. I bent over to kiss and squeeze them, taking a mouthful of breast and sucking hard on her nipples, and she moaned and sped up her stroking.
I soon started to feel my ejaculation building, and I moaned as the first tingles began. She smiled and told me she wanted to see me cum. I pressed my forehead against hers and my back arched as another bolt raced through me. She murmured something in Igbo under her breath, and her mind focused as her fingers deftly tugged away. I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer. By then she was making circular motions around the head, and the tingles were coming in rapid succession, a sure sign that I was going to cum any moment.
“Shoot it out,” she implored in her husky voice. My hips bucked and she pumped with renewed vigour. I groaned and grabbed her breasts and surrendered myself. Amaka gasped and squealed as a hefty burst of whitish semen erupted from me. I grunted like a pig as she carefully pumped the life-making matter out of me. She kept on stroking, carefully squeezing until I delivered every last drop. Finally, after what seemed like ages, I finished emptying myself. She assessed the vast quantity of jizz she had coaxed out of me and we laughed. She told me it was her way of saying thank you for helping her study and pass her exam. I kissed her cheek, then bent over to suck on her breasts which were still dangling in full view. She giggled, then pushed me away before moving to the bathroom to wash her hands.
We spent the rest of the afternoon watching another movie and around four o’clock her mother called her to tell her she had arrived home. Before she left she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a deep kiss on the lips. I hugged her body close and she whispered into my ear that next time, I was going to return the favour. I wore a sheepish smile on my face for the rest of the week.
From that day on, Amaka became my unofficial sex partner for the rest of the service year. I say sex partner because we did not define our relationship beyond that. She herself told me in clear terms that we were just “catching cruise” and we should not make it more complicated than what it was — two young people having fun. I hadn’t been intimate with any girl for a couple of years and I was more than happy to have her satiate those urges for me. Even at that, our sexual exploits drained me both physically and mentally and I was often too tired to do much afterwards. It seemed as if I had unlocked a floodgate of her sexuality and it had all come Atalar Escort bursting out like a ruptured dam. Just shy of her twentieth birthday, she was around the same age as when I first met Yewande back in school. I could understand she was a basketful of sexual hormones and energy and would naturally need an outlet for it.
On one of such occasions late one night, as I was getting ready for bed, she snuck into my room. The whole neighbourhood had been plunged into darkness by the lack of electricity, and I was at first scared when I heard an insistent knocking on my door. Who would be banging my door at almost one in the morning? I was surprised to hear her voice when I peered through the window. I let her in and she told me she could not sleep as she was too restless and her body was “doing me somehow”. I knew what she wanted, but I had a long day the following day. I tried to dissuade her, but she quickly flung off what she had on — a small t-shirt and thin wrapper — and deposited herself on the bed. I gave her a half-hearted excuse and told her it was too dangerous, but she told me everyone had gone to sleep and no one was aware of her movements. All she wanted was for me to “scratch her down there with my big prick(dick)” a few times and she would be alright. I eventually relented. I lowered my kerosene lamp to a low flicker, disrobed and joined her on the bed. We didn’t bother with foreplay and went straight to business. Unfortunately, I did not anticipate how hemmed up she was and we ended up screwing like rabbits for the better part of the night. We finally passed out from exhaustion when the first signs of dawn began to light up the sky.
I woke up a couple of hours later. The other side of the bed where Amaka lay was empty; she must have left at some point. I padded to the bathroom to relieve my full bladder, and returned to pick up my phone to check the time. It was around nine o’clock — my maths class was not until eleven. I saw I had three missed calls from an unknown number. I redialled and fifty brownie points for whose voice came over the line.
“DJ, I know I’m the last person whose voice you want to hear, but please, don’t hang up.” she begged.
“What do you want?” I seethed.
“Please Dimeji, I just called…to apologize.”
“What exactly are you apologizing for?”
“For treating you the way I did. I now realize I should not have done all that to you.”
“I’ve heard that script before. You do not have anything to apologize to me for.”
“DJ, listen to me!!” she yelled over the phone, “I know I offended you. Big time. You would never have treated me the way he did if I chose you. Your brother took my heart, used me, and smashed it to pieces, something I know you would never have done. I know you cared a lot for me, and that is why I’m calling for your forgiveness. I would have a long time ago, but I did not have the courage. Everybody I spoke to about it told me I made the wrong decision — I chose the wrong brother. I’m sorry Dimeji…I’m so sorry…but it was partially your fault too.”
I stared at my phone for a second. “How was it partially my fault?” I asked, not believing my ears.
“You didn’t take charge…you didn’t try hard enough.”
“What the hell do you mean? What else did you want me to do? What did he do that I didn’t?”
“You treated me like I was your little sister. He treated me like…”
She paused. “Like what?” I demanded.
“Bullshit! Lover indeed. The only thing I did not do was to force myself onto you. Maybe that’s what you’re mistaking for “lover”.”
“Please DJ, don’t make this hard for me. I’m trying as it is without you hurting my feelings.”
“Do I sound like I give a shit about your feelings?”
“DJ don’t say that! I said I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did. If there is any way I can make it up to you, you know I will not hesitate doing it.”
“it’s too late for that. I came to terms with it a long time ago. Don’t worry about making up anything to me.”
“I just want you to tell me something, and I want you to tell me the truth,” I paused for a moment, “did you sleep with him?”
There was a long silence before she responded, but that silence told me what I wanted to know. “Yes,” she replied, “I-I’m so sorry.”
“You do not need to be sorry.”
“I didn’t mean to…”
“It was your decision to choose him Yewande, since he treated you like a “lover”.” I said coldly, my voice again rising a notch. “It hurt me deeply, but I ended up accepting it. It took a while, but I realized it made no sense fighting for something that was never mine to begin with…”
“DJ, don’t say that…” her voice broke over the line.
“…it was your choice. You went with him. I wasn’t happy, but there was nothing I could do. It wouldn’t have hurt me so much if it was some other guy, but I learned to live with it. You do not have to apologize for anything. There’s nothing to apologize for.” I concluded.
“Goodbye Yewande, and please, don’t ever call me again,” I said and ended the call.
End of part two.