GUYS ARE US 3
- Post By EmDee David 4:25pm on Friday 3rd February 2017
Tony is at it again...his escapade with Abuja babes is legendary, but he might be trapped, or is he already trapped.
GUYS ARE US (3) By Emdee David
The words “I love you” never departed from my mouth to Thelma’s ears day and night. Even Captain Joshua of ancient Israel, Prophet Moses’ boy, would have clapped for me if I had mouthed the book of the law that way. Only that I do not meditate on this. And Thelma’s ears are insatiable. I had to always say “I love you”, even when I didn’t feel like saying so, which was the case most times. She says it to me too piously without the blink of an eye, and expects same from me.
But everything got me thinking. Did I love her or was I simply attracted to her sexually? This thing that started as a simple online play of love had become an eternal affair. We were living together and did everything a husband and a wife do. We ate together, played together, bathed together, and slept together, literally and figuratively. We were married. I even overheard her saying to someone on phone that “my husband is in the room” Ah!
I knew I was not ready for any commitment; I was not ready to settle down. But as far as Thelma was concerned, she’d been hooked. Or was I the one hooked? Even, if I wanted to be, not with Thelma. Was this love? Or lust?
Lust could be so intense between two people that it becomes hard to tell it from love. This intense sexual chemistry usually blinds lovers to basic issues of compatibility. There could be ingrained habits that annoy them, yet in the heat of sexual exploitation, they are ignored. But when the passion begins to wane, issues would come up that good sex cannot solve.
That was the point I was with Thelma. Our bond was born of good sex, but we were intellectually worlds apart. Her brains only worked well on bed, and a few times in the kitchen. You dare not discuss the day’s news, business, politics, or worse, sports with her. I noticed these the moment I moved in with her but I completely didn’t see them. We were in love. After six months of living together, my eyes were beginning to open. Was it ever closed? I was beginning to resent her, and was already thinking of a way out of this malady. Of course, I had put some girl friends on standby.
I was sitting in the parlour this early Saturday morning when a text message came into my phone from a number not on my contact list. Anxiously, I opened it and found a message:
YOU WOKE ME UP;
PLS, KEEP ME AWAKE…
…OR I BURN…
While I was wondering who sent it, Thelma was calling from inside the bedroom. She had been sulking before I left her. We had had a one-round sex that night after which I slept off. All her caresses didn’t wake me up. She’d asked me why I always slept off these days after just one round. I told her it was because of work’s stress which rendered me exhausted. But she wouldn’t take that. She said it was because I didn’t love her any more, and that she noticed I spent too much time on phone and BB. See me see trouble o. She also complained I came back from work later than I used to do, and drank outside the house (meaning I must be hanging out with another babe). She also said I kissed her with less passion these days. Hmmm! The nagging continued and I couldn’t bear it when she asked me, the umpteenth time, what plans I had for her.
“A twin duplex in Asokoro,” I said in anger and caricature, and then, left to the parlour.
I called the number below the message and a female voice from the other end called my name three times: Tony…Tony…Tony.
What have I done? Even my mum didn’t have to call me three times in any case.
“Who is this, please?”
“Tony, it’s me,” the voice said. The voice was sweet and alluring. All my emotional antennas stood at alert.
“Sorry, I don’t have this number on my phone….”
“Honey,” a voice said and it didn’t seem to have come from the phone. I looked around and saw Thelma standing at the door with bare body, except for a pink rope forming the shape of a catapult and twisted itself around her waist.
“I need you…when can I see you?”This was from the phone.
“Honey, I want to see you.” That was Thelma. I stared at her, phone still to my ears.
“I am coming,” I said to both Thelma and the girl on the phone at the same time. Mumus!
“Oh, really? I’m waiting,” the phone voice said sweetly. External Mumu, whoever that was.
“I can’t wait please, now!” said the internal Mumu harshly as she began to catwalk towards me. I quickly hanged the call and watched her approach. Her nipples were already aroused, also staring directly at my lips.
“I’m so sorry,” Thelma said as she sat on me, her hands already on my neck, titillating me.
“It’s OK,” said I, avoiding her approaching lips. Didn’t she know I hadn’t brushed my teeth, Haba!
“Do you still love me?” Thelma slurred. WAEC question. No!
“Yes, I do.” Could I have answered otherwise?
The phone rang. It was a flash, from the number that sent the text message. Who could that be? Thank God I hadn’t saved it; hadn’t even known the identity of the girl. Or was it a lady? Or a Mama!
Thelma pushed the phone away and began to suck me even with my boxers on me. It didn’t take time for me to go wild as her fingers kept tuning my nipples to different electro-sexual frequencies. She hit a waveform that sent my boxers and her G-Strings away from our bodies’ bandwidth. As I was broadcasting, her transistor, directly placed on my transmitter, received signals with such strength and clarity that tightened our body muscles so intensely around our warm and wet genital areas.
The pleasurable wave of tingling sensation ran to every part of my body; and I’m sure hers too, as expressed on her face. She screamed my name and the words “I love you.”
“I know, baby.” I said, holding her tightly. The phone rang again, just once; same number. I hate flashers, whoever this girl was should know that.
Thelma slept in my arms right there; I slept too. Later, I checked the text message that came in when I was climaxing. It was from the same person, and this time it was signed:
Oh my God! I woke her up…and she wants me to keep her awake. Or she will burn? Hey, Fire brigade oooo!
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Click Here to read Previous Edition: GUYS ARE US (1)
Emdee David – is the Director of Africa Entertainment Network, a Writer, Producer, Director and a media consultant.
Read other Erotic comedy by Emdee David: THE SEXCAPADE OF NATASHA