love

WET DREAMS

She was naked, in my mind at least, and stripped-down to the very last piece of her dignity before she even stepped into the room. My eyes took out everything: the erect boobs, the curvy walls of her hips down to the edges of her womanhood. And her gait as she walked toward the room I share with 3 other guys. Nothing beats the raw urgency of a young man alone, and within sight of the object of his sexual desire.

Her clothes lay in a pile at the base of the bed that has witnessed lots of orgasmic pleasures, and spent energy from Chike and Ada. I was a virgin. This was going to be my first time.

There was no time to waste on false hospitality, no time to equally waste on questions like “How was your day?”, Hope you went to church today?” We got to the business of the day. The strings of her bra first gave way to my wandering hands, then her pants came off, and that was it as narrated in Kama Sutra: the bliss, the orgasmic pleasure given and taken in equal measure. Nothing else mattered.

Minutes later, her breath coming out in short gusts as we, still lying down and legs locked, took survey of the room that is not really a room but a structure carved out from two adjacent fences, joined by two slabs of plywood to form an enclosure. Her bag overturned sat on the table, it contents spilling onto the worn-out carpet that has also witnessed similar occurrence from Chike and Ada on weekly basis,  like the one that just happened some minutes ago.

Then Chike entered the room, announcing his presence by opening the curtains as the first rays of the morning sunlight hits my face. “Utobo you are sleeping”, he said. Don’t you have lectures today?

IT WAS A DREAM.

 

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