Omozele, my s*x-slave,
The first time I saw you, I suspected you were a slut.
You walked into Bar 38 at exactly 9:44pm on Friday the 27th of May, 2009. I know because I play at that club courtesy of my friend Don Pedro every last Friday because music is one part of my life and I had been a DJ back in school. I know because at the exact moment you walked into the club with my old buddy Nneka, I looked at my wristwatch because I could tell you were my soulmate. Nneka brought you to see because you needed me to be the DJ and the MC at your wedding which is well within my side-jobs.
“TJB – TDB” Nneka hailed me from afar and I beamed at her but my eyes were on you as Don Pedro and the rest of my drinking buddies who knew what TDB means burst into laughter. Nneka had been my coursemate at the University of Ibadan and had at one time been of interest to me but she had quickly zoned me into friendship stylishly and I spent the last two years of my studentship in UI walking her to Idia Hall before going to my own Obafemi Awolowo Hall rather than in class studying for my degree in Pharmacy. As you later told me she had told you, she’d agreed to date me after two of her friends whose names I can barely recall fought over me at New Hall bus stop. I remember her rushing to my room in anger screaming loudly even before she got to my room: “Olatunji Badmus what the hell is inside your preeq that Aisha and Lucy (I recall their names just now) are fighting about?” It would have been funny the way she said it but she was more angry than jovial. I asked her what happened and she told me that Lucy had somehow found out what I’d done with Aisha in night class one day.
I remember explaining to Nne that since I couldn’t FK her like I wanted to and I couldn’t find my way out of the friendzone with her, my best bet was to FK as many of her friends as I could and it was a discussion we had already had before. She had been the one in fact to suggest a K!ttyC@t for me to FK among her friends. I didn’t know until later that she had deliberately chosen Mary Essien because the girl was the Mother Theresa of Idia Hall in terms of holy-holy. It took me two months to blow away the myth of Mary’s virginity when I F*ed her one evening in my hostel room and brought out the bitch in her. Don Pedro who was my roommate then swore to Nne that he heard when Mary m0an!ng like a bitch had said “Oh TJ, FK me TJ, TJ please FK me doggy, FK me like a dog, I want to sU-Ck your J0yst!ck again and again, Tunji Badmus FK me till day break” in a voice that betrayed the animal hiding inside her.
Perhaps out of jealousy or curiosity since she was always regaled with tales of my conquests, Nne after she calmed down followed Don Pedro’s logic and agreed to date me. Our relationship lasted from that Friday evening till the next Friday night – a period of seven awkward days that saw me and Nne relating uneasily. The final act that tore the love affair was on Friday night when I got the itch and wanted to FK but she knew all my moves to sneak off in search of fresh or old K!ttyC@t and blocked them all me before saying “shebi I am your girlfriend abi? Maybe we should just FK” and I tried but it was a disaster. There was no chemistry between Nne and I as we took of our clothes separately and formally in a way that made me remember Ekaette in Jolly Friends Hotel on Adeniyi Jones who had taken my virginity many years before then. We’d booked an hotel around Orita-Challenge for this purpose and Nne switched off the light so I never saw her nakedness that day. She took my J0yst!ck in her hand and must have been surprised to see it so shrunken – evidence of my body’s lack of interest in her body – she stroked my J0yst!ck and tried to get me hard but not only was it awkward but also very un-erotic for me.
As you would later know Omozele, I like to see the woman I am Bleeping. I like to leave the lights on and watch her eyes as my J0yst!ck pushes in and pulls out of her K!ttyC@t. You know I also love to be sU-Cked and that night, I tried to nudge Nne’s head towards my J0yst!ck but she resisted. I touched her K!ttyC@t and found she was dry. The Pears Baby Oil she had brought along in her bag for her morning dressing-up ritual was generously applied on her K!ttyC@t and I was able to slide my semi-turgid J0yst!ck into her but for only a while before she called my name “Tunji”
I answered “Yes?”
“This isn’t working at all”
And we burst into laughter. We spent the night laughing as we listened to music on her walkman before we slept off. We promised not to tell anyone but Don Pedro wasn’t just anyone and when one day he made a joke about not needing Pears Baby Oil before Bleeping a babe, Nne didn’t speak to me for two weeks.
So there she was that Friday night: my bestie of life and she introduced you as “that my colleague I told you is getting married in July that needs a DJ and an MC”. You wore a short purple gown (lilac you called it later) that showed no cleavage but hugged your body tight enough for everyone to see that you were well endowed (34DD I predicted in my mind, 36DD you turned out to be) and on a slim body like yours, I was enthralled. You’d changed into slip-ons and looked a bit dressed down but I understood you’d come to see me with Nne straight from work at the same telecoms company where Nne worked too. I stood up quickly that night because I wanted to see how tall you were beside me but Pedro was faster as he offered you a seat beside him and also got the first look at your butt0ckz which while it was the right size for your slim body was disproportionate to your b0s0m.