Selfish

Selfish

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You’ll only regret it when I get heartbroken 

 ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PLAY THE SONG BEFORE YOU START READING

Say Yes by Floetry

I hated coming here.

But over the last year or so, I had become a regular.

I just had to get what I needed and go. That was what I repeatedly told myself, except it didn’t always work. Coming here would almost always make me begin to over think my life and my needs.
I would sometimes ask myself why I had to be the broken one.

“Do you need me to get the Pharmacist to explain how it should be taken?”

she asked me.

I looked down at the packages in her hand and thought to myself that it couldn’t hurt to have someone explain it to me. I nodded and said,

“Sure”

She smiled and slid the bags over to her left and parted by saying,

“Somebody will be here to help you shortly”

“Shortly” was never shortly with these people and so I waited. I was starting to get frustrated because I had somewhere to be and a lot to do that day but I kept calm and waited. A pharmacist walked up to me and said,

“How can I help you?”

I had to catch myself and then I said,

“I just needed someone to explain the meds and how I should take them before heading out on my trip”

She smiled and said.

“Oh, you’re going out of the country? Where are you headed?”

It was kind of an intrusive question but her smile just made it okay, I was beginning to answer and then I held back because I knew what her follow up question would be.

“Just to visit some family in Africa”

“Oh cool! I haven’t been back in 6 years. I’m from Ghana”

I smiled. I was actually going to ask her name but she had just given me half of what I needed and reduced my work for me.

“Oh really? That’s where I’m headed too.
I leave tonight. Maybe you should come with me”

I joked.

She smiled as she packed up the meds and said,

“Maybe.”

I turned and said,

“Well have a great rest of the day and I’ll see you at the airport tonight”

I joked as I walked away. She smiled and said nothing.
I headed out the door and began thinking to myself that the old me would have probably asked her for number and been looking to have sex with her or something. But recent events in my life had changed those and I was seeing things in a different light. I then realized she never even explained

.       .       .       .       .

I finally felt like I had gotten everything under control and I was about to leave the office. I wrote some final instructions on a sticky note and placed it on my secretary’s desk. My partner was holding things together for the next 8 weeks while I was gone. I headed out of the building and there she was. Fola was driving my car as she pulled up in front of my office. She was taking me to the airport and she could tell that I was now more nervous than I had been the whole time. It was real now. The responsibility was now on my shoulders but it was now here and I was starting to get cold feet.

She could read it on my face and she said,

“You got this.”

I smiled and said,

“But what if I’m making a mistake Fola? What if this is not how it is supposed to go?”

Fola turned and replied,

“You and your family have been working on this forever. You have covered all the bases, you are doing a great thing for family and for love and I respect it. You have to believe in yourself that you’re doing the right thing and for the right reasons”

I couldn’t stop smiling. There was some confidence in me albeit just for a short while but it made me feel good.

“Fola, you know you’re the best right?”

She laughed as she made a right turn and said,

“Yup! I know I am”

She was right. She was the best; my best friend.

For many years, I had been through so much from self hate, insecurities, battling with depression, anger management and Fola was a huge factor in keeping me grounded and sane.
I could always reach for her to be there for me and she still hasn’t failed me, even when I had let her down before. I was so grateful for everything she had done and was doing in my life.

“Here we are”

She said as she pulled up to the side in front of the airport door. I could hear the airport security continue to read their safety procedures over the public address system at the Seattle-Tacoma International airport.

I stepped out of the vehicle and lifted both my bags out of the trunk and said to Fola as I gave her a peck on the cheek,

“Don’t crash my baby o.”

She hugged me back and said,

“Don’t bring back a baby o”

Into the airport I headed and dropped off my bags in line at the check- in counter. A few minutes later I was at the head of the line, watching the guy weigh my bag and check it in. I was through airport security pretty quickly. They pride themselves in efficiency at that particular airport.
I took my seat at the gate and checked my surroundings to ensure that I was at the right place. I had once missed an important flight because I was seated at the wrong gate.
I was at the right place; I pulled my phone out and started listening to some music as I tried to catch up on some sleep.

I must have nodded off for a bit because when I opened my eyes, there was a line of people boarding the flight in front of me. The lady said over the address system,

“Now boarding flight 2350 from Seattle to Atlanta”

I got up, picking up my bag and got into the line. The line continued to inch forward and soon I was in front of the line. My boarding pass got scanned off my phone and I walked into the walkway to the plane. I squeezed into the aisle inside the plane as I headed towards my seat. I placed my hand luggage in the overhead bin and sat down in my seat.
I took a deep breath and sighed.
I was actually about to go through with this.

.      .       .        .        .        . 

Adanma ft. Ayoola by Shaydee

It was dark and humid when I arrived in Lagos. I remember going through security and just laughing at how much of a joke the personnel was; asking to search my bags and then subsequently asking for money. I even had a phone vendor try to steal from me because he thought I didn’t know the environment I was in. It was actually quite amusing.

My cousin arrived with someone in the car. He came out and gave me a hug. He was like a brother to me. We used to spend every summer I had in Nigeria together and we only grew slower the older we got.

“Baddest!”

That was the nickname he had given me when we were about 16. I hated it at the time but people at my school picked it up and it stuck.

“How was your flight bro?”

He asked as he helped me put my bags into the trunk of the car.

“It was okay bro. Thanks for asking”

I replied as I got into the back seat of the car. There was a guy sitting in the front passenger seat. He introduced himself as Jonathan.
We were about a mile out of the airport when I asked my cousin Dare where Ada was.

“Oh, she said she had a thing in Abuja. She left this morning”

he replied.
I began to think to myself, she knew I was coming in at that time and that was when she decided to up and leave the state. I should have seen the signs then but I couldn’t because I was blinded by what I thought was love or maybe just loyalty.

 

Ada was a childhood friend and the daughter of my father’s high school friend. Our father’s told us stories growing up about how they played sports together, went on adventures with women as a team and even almost got expelled together. Their stories were always full of life and they would captivate our minds each time.

The year prior to this visit I was on, my uncle, now the head of the family since my father passed summoned me and so I went. He talked to me about something that the family wanted my help with since I lived in America. I was not sure what it was, I spent the night at his house and he told me that the next day, we were going to visit my dad’s childhood friend. It was at that meeting that my uncle, Ada’s parents and my mother asked me to marry Ada and bring her to America because her parents wanted her to have a better life and they could not afford to send her.
My initial thought was that I would give her the money for a ticket and she could even stay with me but why did I have to marry her?

Later when I came back to America, the immigration lawyer I consulted with explained it to me better and he showed me how the process would be easier if Ada and I got married because I was an American citizen. It seemed like a deal with minimal risk considering that a lot of Nigerians currently do it. I asked for a few days to think about it and my mom would not get out of my ear. She had sad stories of my dad’s friend Chief Abe, being the only one that believed in my father and such. I was filled with tremendous guilt and a sense of repayment. Before I left Nigeria, I agreed to do it.

I came back to Nigeria about 8 months after; Ada and I had taken pictures and done the necessary things to “sell” our marriage to the American government. Ada and I knew each other, so this wasn’t weird. We had childhood pictures and even pictures capturing memories in our youth. In a way, I just felt it was my way of helping out. The idea was to get her to America, on her feet and eventually on her way.
My girlfriend at the time in America was an African American woman; she eventually broke up with me because she didn’t understand the concept of what I was doing or why I was doing it. I tried to let her know that for the most part, we all helped each other out. That was how we were. She wasn’t taking it, so she left me.

There was a lot about Ada and her family that I didn’t know. Over the course of the month that I was there, I began to learn more and more about her. Some great things and some things I wish I had never heard or seen.
Eventually, the wedding came and passed. It was just the right size; the perfect amount of people, and the perfect amount of rice and plantain to go around for everyone. Our lies were painting the perfect picture for those on the outside looking in.

.       .       .       .       .       .

A few days later, we were in the states. Everything that would happen up until I decided to write this had been crazy.
When Ada and I arrived in America, everything was great. We actually had a honeymoon period and our honeymoon was in the Dominican Republic. It was all going according to plan.
It was about two months after the wedding when things began to turn. To be honest, I was the one that made the first mistake by sleeping with Ada and changing the dynamic of our relationship. I should have just kept it at “business”. Soon enough, I started to develop feelings for her. I tried to fight them, I really did but I continued to fail.

She would be there for me, ask about my day, share intimate moments and vice versa. But abruptly things changed. She would no longer talk to me; there was no food when I returned from work and no sex. We basically became roommates, just sharing the same bed and house but nothing else. I tried to talk to her and figure things out but she turned all my advances down.

It had gotten to the point where I was just waiting on her work permit, so she could get a job and move out. I was tired of being emotionally bullied. I used to be that guy but I saw how many people I was hurting and so I stopped but also because I knew my behavior had to reflect marriage and it’s responsibilities.

We barely spoke anymore unless she wanted to or wanted sex, so I would leave the house in the morning and stay out as late as possible just to avoid talking to her.

This particular day, I had returned from a long day of work.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           I was taking off my clothes and about to walk out of the closet when she came out of the bathroom. I heard her climb on the bed and she asked,

“How long are you going to be in there for?”

I smiled and said,

“Not long. I’ll be out in a minute”

I bent down and pulled off my trousers. I slipped the belt off it and began stringing it into the pair I was planning to wear the next day.

She said,

“Hurry up, I want to cuddle.”

I was taken back. This seemed off.
Something felt off. I couldn’t put my finger on it. The way she was all over me was kind of surprising. Don’t get me wrong, we had our nights where we went all out, crazy and naughty but this one just felt kind of different. This was the 3rd time we were having sex in the week and it was only Tuesday night.  I was tired. Really tired but I mustered up some strength to give her what she wanted. I climbed onto the bed and kissed her. She placed her hands around my head and began to kiss me passionately. The surprise immediately left my mind as my member began to rise. Both my hands were planted on the sides of her as I towered over her. 
I began to lower onto her as she leaned back. I broke the kiss and looked down at her, the room was dimly lit but I could see her bold eyes and her pearly white teeth as she smiled back at me and said with a hint of shyness,

“What?”

I smiled, licked my lips and said,

“Nothing babe”

I looked down and bent her head to the side and began kissing down her neck. Her hair smelled fresh, her neck was lined with an inviting perfume. My tongue marked her neck with kisses as it traveled down. I licked across her neckline. Ensuring that my hot breath was felt as I marked my way down. I could feel her beginning to squirm as I arrived between the towers; her breasts. They stood apart from each other, perked up like upright guards. They were perfect for squeezing and succulent for sucking. So real they almost looked like implants. I took the left one into my mouth and twirled my tongue all over her nipple while the other rested inside the palm of my right hand. I squeezed it gently as she moaned at every pinch of her nipple. I kissed down to her wetness. Slowly licking as I tried to ensure I didn’t miss her sweet nectar. I slowly began to nibble on her clit as she pinned my head down. It just seemed like her drive was much higher than it used to be. I responded by digging my tongue deeper into her. Her moans were louder,

“Bada, Bada, if you stop….”

Don’t you fucking stop”

She placed her right hand on my head as i looked up, I noticed her clutching the sheets; tightly.
She opened her eyes and looked down at me. I winked at her and she said,

“ugh! don’t fucking do that… Right there, right there!!! Don’t move your fucking tongue”

I heard her tone and her grip on my head was enough to send a message. My tongue continued to wag from left to right with speed as I hummed and it vibrated on her clit. A few minutes later, both my hands pinned her down as she let out her latest round of wetness. My tongue lapped it up. She turned around and smiled, poking her ass up to me. I grabbed her cheek and spread them apart as I slowly slid into her. One word; wet. Okay maybe also tight, hot and fucking amazing. I pressed her back down as I began to pound; my balls dripping with her juices as they slammed into her clit. She was looking back at me and saying,

“Fuck me baby. Come one fuck me harder”

I knew it was coming. Her voice always did that to me and there I was. A few thrusts later, I said,

“Baby, I’m about to cum”

She placed her hands under and began stroking my balls as they slammed into her and she said,

“Cum for me baby. Cum all over me”

“Hunghhunghhungh…..”

I pulled out of her and slumped onto the bed. She rolled over and began rubbing my hairless chest and said,

“Babe, can u please buy me a ticket to go to Miami in two weeks”

It all made sense, her fucking me like that.  I looked down at her and said,

“What is in Miami”

She smiled and made circles on my chest in my sweat and said,

“Cindy, my girl from high school in Naij

You don’t know her.”

She was right that I didn’t know her. But I was tired and disoriented so I said yes. Funny how women always know how to ask for whatever they want as soon as the man ejaculates.

We fell asleep in that position.

Three days later, I returned home and noticed that she was gone. I kept calling her phone and there was no answer. Her clothes were still present as were her other belongings.

I was not sure where she was but I was just going about my evening. I washed some rice into the rice cooker to start getting ready while I walked out to the mailbox.

I was walking to the mailbox when my phone began to buzz; it was Ada.

“Ada, where are you? I was worried”

she giggled a bit sounding under the influence and said,

“I’m in Miami b**ch”

I was shocked by the response that I blurted out,

“Miami?

When did you go there or even buy the ticket?”

She asked me not to worry and that it was my credit card that she used. I was still trying to process all that she said and her being all the way in Miami when she said she had to go.

I tapped on the phone to end the call and then I noticed a letter from the courthouse amongst the pile of new mail I had just picked up.
I tore it open and it was our marriage certificate from the courthouse. I held it in my hand and my heart sunk. I couldn’t help but feel like it was all a mistake. I placed my hand in my head and said,

“What The Heck Man?”

My phone buzzed again. It was Fola.

The End.

Ladies and Gentlemen, you have been immense and amazing. Earlier this week, I noticed that my blog #WhatTheHeckMan had gotten over 17,000 views.

Listen to this key part; singlehandedly. No paid promo. No gimmicks. Just stories and YOU GUYS. Here we are, 10 months after the first series I posted with thousands of views but not a lot of comments/feedback but it’s okay “People I luh you…. POP pimp squad, hold it down…”. I appreciate the effort to read though from everyone that supports me and this outler. Even though it can sometimes be work to “keep up or catch up”

I want to thank you for letting me own your TL’s on Saturdays. For retweeting and sharing. For being patient with me as I’ve taken you on various emotional roller coasters. For enjoying my art with me and waiting up on Saturdays for the next part in each series. For #WhatTheHeckMan ,#SanmiSaturdays supporters, I truly thank you. I want to start by thanking the one that has always given me the push to do anything and infact start this blog even though at the time, our interactions were rocking, Arewa F.M.S.
Off the top of my head, let me thank my day 1 supporters.

N’wa, Simi, Ninz, Sinmi, Feddy9ja, Ashake and twinnie, Tonye, Olamide, Lamide, Desewa, Nnenna Chinaija, Bruce Bane, FreshDeltaBoy, Adaeze, Abiton, prettydiva11, Vanessa, KemiO, Tobby_e, Nadia, Beyoutiful_chy, 9jamadea, Ms_DamiAjayi, Rinsola, Words that go unsaid; and everyone else that I missed. Majority of my comments in the past year have come from the people above which means in some way, I trust your feedback and look forward to seeing how my stories impact you guys. To those that have boyfriends that make it impossible for me to shout you out without them coming for my head, thank you also, you know yourselves. lol

Now to my family, thank you for not knowing my blog exists. This is a seriously important piece to everything, at least for now. Anyways, to all those that support me comments or not, THANK YOU. Still leave a comment tho. I swear y’all don’t know what it means to read what you guys think of the things I create. Anyways, have a great weekend everyone.

SHARE THIS STORY AND OTHERS, #WhatTheHeckMan is my baby but you guys are the surrogate mother. Grow it with me. Let’s put these words, music and emotions in everyone’s ears. Till the next time you read from me which is Wednesday (#WordsofWednesday). Stay Up! And if someone tries to run you down, pray MFM prayers to fire them or just say

What The Heck Man

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