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A Story written by MaziOmenuko…

She’s not ur mum?

“Yea, she’s my aunt. I lost my mum when I was a kid, I grew up with my aunt”.

But your mum didn’t stumble upon herself and got pregnant, I thought to myself but I knew better than ask.

This explains the difference in looks and attitude.

“I don’t feel belonged here”
she said.

“Here comes the baggage…”

I thought to myself.

“Why” I asked. “I didn’t notice before you told me. Infact, there’s no telling you’re not part of the family”,

I lied to her again.

She told me how she had a difficult time fitting into the family because she was being treated differently, how she was giving a strict upbringing while emon was allowed to freely socialize, how the aunt ensured she secured admission for emon at unical, against all odds and with a very low jamb score while she was left to her faith, and she resorted to akwa-ibom state polytechnic.

“Well, you are a grown lady now and your destiny doesn’t lie in your aunt’s hand but in yours”

I said, trying to shut her from whining, but succeeded in creating a smile in that lips that wore a heavy dark-red lipstick.

“That’s so sweet”, she said, “you’re really nice”

“And you’re just naïve”,

I thought to myself.

I smiled back and we continued from where we left minutes earlier. This time around, she was more warm, open and receptive. She never resisted any position I suggested, she moved a pitch higher from moaning to screaming. It was a bit embarrassing but I was more engrossed with the sight of her a.r.s.e as it bounces forth like a boomerang as I was kneeling on the bed and hammering from behind. I thank my stars I was not doing the missionary, b’cos seeing that face with a heavy makeup would have been a sure turn off for me, but that a-r-s-e was doing the magic. The screams were so loud that if I was a novice, I would have stopped and asked if I was hurting her. But I didn’t, I kept going deeper and deeper as the screams became more intense. . .

Finally, we both were exhausted and I layed on the bed, thinking of no one else but emon. Is she expecting to see me at the peagent? Is she as expectant as I was? Is she really into me?

Thinking of another woman while another was lying beside me could seem strange to others, but to a twisted mind like mine , this was just normal. Emon looked and acted reserved and classy. Flox, to me, was just too free spirited, I felt I didn’t score much with flox, I told myself that I needed to complete the show with emon before I could grade my papers for the carnival.

How wrong was I!

If I could turn back the hands of time, if I had a second chance to attain the calabar 2012 xmas carnival, I would have extinguished the emon dream, this would have saved me from the catastrophe that ruined a nice carnival. I would have maintained my friendship with idi and still hold my head above my shoulders if I didn’t listen to that silly st-u-p—i-d voice inside of me, telling me that scoring emon will mean much to me.

Just within hours at calabar and I’ve scored one, and maybe, just maybe, could make it two if I can make it to the peagent, I thought to myself.

I got up from the bed, started to dress up as I imagined what the time would be.

“Where are you going”, flox asked.

“Stadium, for the peagent” I answered as I searched for my phone.

“What for”, she asked.

-To watch Enyimba vs kano pillars-

“For the ms calabar show of course, aren’t you going?”

“Isn’t it better we spend more time together?” She asked, “at least its better than watching n.a.k.e.d girls parade their shame-less bodies for a crowd of the highest bidder”, she added.

-wow, you really had issues while growing up-

She blabbed on about how those ‘w.h.o.r.e.s’ sleep around with the organizers of the event just to get the form, then sleep with more people to get shortlisted, then sleep on and on to get a 1st, 2nd or 3rd spot.

“That show is nothing but a scripted p-o-r-n” she concluded.

“Wow” I thought to myself, “why on earth do girls hate their fellow girls? Ok, hate might be a strong word, dislike is more like it.

Anyway, I didn’t have any intention of watching those Unclad girls, I had something else in mind.

“Come back to the bed and let’s make more love” she pleaded.

I glanced at her for some seconds, she smiled. I can’t tell if its the fluorescent light or just the makeup, but her face looks plane weird.

“Come to bed”

I gentle shook my head, stood up and kept searching for my phone. I’ve spent 45mins and two rounds of s-e-x with her and she still wants me more. Is she s-e-x starved or just a nymph!
I’ve heard tales of calabar girls before, I still don’t believe any of those tales could be true. I have screwed so many ladies (something I aint proud of) and I have come to the conclusion that all *** are same.

I found the phone, and discovered I had 9 missed calls and 2 messages, my phone had been on silence.
Most of the missed calls was from my girl friend, one from idi, then a message from him informing me that he made a ticket reservation for me at the centre, that I should contact him when I got there.
The second text was from an unknown number, with a simple message which reads. . .

“What you just did now was wrong, I’m disappointed”.

Holy shiiiiiittt!!!!
What I just did now? Is this a joke or what!
“Did you text me now?” I asked flox.
“No” she replied as she got alarmed with the look on my face.

“What’s the problem”, she asked.

I didn’t border answering, I collected her phone, checked her sent items, no such text, dialed my number to check if its same with the one that text me… Ring ring, not same.

Did anyone enter the house while we were busy on the bed? Who is playing such an expensive game?

There was only one way to find out. . . I dialed the number that sent the text.

Ring, ring. . .
Ring, ring. . .

“Hello”,

It was a lady’s voice in a noisy background.

“Hello” I said back, trying to buy more time so I can decode this voice.

My brain was doing a quick scan-and-match, I just needed her to say one more word so I can fix the voice to a face.

“Don’t tell me your new girl friend is boring you already. . .”

“Eeeeemmmmooooonnnn”. . .

To Be Continued…

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