Saturday morning and I was all packed up for the weekend getaway with Paul. I was certainly in the worst mood yesterday, so the only thing I was sure of, was the fact that we were going to a beach house in Ilashe for the weekend.
Two hours later, Paul was in my house. He insisted on us having a drink before we commenced our journey. At this point, I could care less, all I wanted was to get out of my house and my world. We both had a glass of red wine. While drinking, I allowed myself check him out for a bit. He looked really cute in a green flowery shirt, buttoned half way to the top and a white short. I instantly rushed to my room to put on the white dress I had been contemplating wearing because, I felt it was too sensual for the occasion. It was a long, drop neck free dress that revealed a large chunk of my cleavage, with a slit on the left side of the dress, high up my thighs, just in front of my left leg. I initially intended to stay safe and decent, without arousing any thoughts in his mind; but after seeing him, I knew I needed to put some sexy on.
Finally, we got to Protea hotel in Ikoyi and boarded a boat to Ilashe Island. Fifteen minutes later, we were on the beach. Now, let me take a minute to talk to you about the beach: One word – BEAUTIFUL!!!. It was a white beach house, with four spacious bedrooms. Each room had a large sliding door that opened to the balcony which held a full view of the ocean and the swimming pool. The rooms also had king sized bed with goose down pillows, wardrobe, and ensuite bathrooms, with walk-in shower.
The Master Suite which we stayed in was an oversized room, blessed with a California king size bed, a private living room, a lounge, and rooftop spa with breathtaking view of the Atlantic Ocean and the luscious towering coconut palm. My gosh, it was heavenly. The house had two chefs and two masseuses.
When I was done touring the house, I turned and gave Paul a warm flirtatious hug. Normally I would conceal my excitement, you know, I didn’t know him that well; but I did not see this one coming at all. To think that I almost blew this off for a pity party for Tunji, must be the oddest thought ever. When I finally got myself, one of the chef handed me an electronic gadget, like an iPad tablet, bearing the food menu. I collected it from him with a smile and headed to the room to lay on the bed and give my mind the opportunity to imagine things that could be done on this bed.
Tunji needs to see this, I thought to myself, he needs to see what his fellow man is doing. He needs to know that I am worth something; that I have another man willing and ready to give me the moon and stars and any other thing I ask for. I felt like Beyoncé, performing her “Irreplaceable” song.
We spent the evening on the beach. Dinner was served just outside the beach house and it was one hell of a romantic experience; a platter of prawns soaked in sweet and sour yoghurt, serving as appetizer. We had smoked salmon with a tinge of lemon, a small dish of sautéed spaghetti mixed with bits of celery, small sausages, peppers and Chinese egg sauce, washing all down with ice cold strawberry juice. From where I sat, viewing Lagos from afar, the scenery was everything. After dinner, we walked round the beach discussing, till about 11:58pm. The sad thing was that all I kept talking about was Tunji. At some point, I was sure it was irritation I saw on Paul’s face, because he kept on changing topics and when that didn’t work, he stopped replying me. I knew this, but I just couldn’t help myself. Tunji was all I wanted to talk about.
The next morning, I woke up feeling silly. How did I just go on and on about Tunji? I could just imagine how Paul felt, he must have thought I was a waste of time. I mean, who takes a lady on a romantic trip just to have her talk about another man? I needed to make it up to him, so I leaned over and gave him a peck on his cheek; then went to find the chef. We arranged for a good English breakfast: Scrambled eggs, sausages, some slices of bread, baked beans and a glass of juice. And I served him in bed.
At noon, we headed to the pool. I was wearing a white and red flowered bikini that did justice to my complexion and figure. The bra cup size was two sizes below my cup size for a regular bra; making my breast jump up and down at each step I took. And the pant was a high-waisted full pant. I knew I looked really sexy and ready to be eaten. Hell! I particularly packed this bikini to play with Paul’s mind.
Inside the pool, he could not get his hands off me. He was touching me all over. He wanted me and I knew it; I could feel him, but I wanted to tease him even more, so I leaned towards him and kissed him in the mouth this time. I did my usual trick. The trick I do with my tongue slowly outlining the top and bottom of the guy’s lips, then slowly kissing him, setting my lower lip free for him to suck on. It always worked on every guy I had tried it with and Paul was no exemption.
Deep into the kiss, I slowly ran my hand through his body. His eyes were deeply shut. He had gone faraway and I knew that was the perfect time to stop. So I withdrew my mouth. The disappointing look he gave me, made me jubilate inside. I was wet and ready for him, but I had to be a lady; a proper lady. I was not going to act like I wanted anything. Even though I did want many things at that moment.
“Let us go inside please”, he said, in a totally strange voice. I nodded and he took the lead.
As soon as my back touched the bed, he literally ravaged me. It felt like he wanted to taste every part of me at the same time: running up and down my body in a rather repelling way. He was biting and licking me everywhere: my tummy, nipples, the sides of my breast, my mouth, face, everywhere. At that point, I realized that there is a thin line between pleasure and pain and I was at the edge of the line. I tapped him on the shoulder and said, “relax dear, I am here for the taking”.
He smiled, but that didn’t work, so I just told myself that if I was going to enjoy this, I had to shut my eyes and cast my mind to the last spectacular sex I had. So my dear; that was how I had sex with Tunji in my mind and Paul with my body.
The rest of our stay was awkward. Paul was acting like I was an angel to be worshipped. He gave me a kiss at every given opportunity and talked about our lives together, about the future, our marriage. He was happy, I could tell. You know, I know my sex game is good, but I didn’t know I was that good. I didn’t know that a one-time sex with a guy can make him plan a future with me. If he only knew that I had Tunji on my mind the whole time.
9:34pm and I was back to my apartment and to life. The plan was to hold on to Paul until Tunji contacted me, who knows, I might even catch feelings soon enough.
Talk about man proposing and the universe disposing; the next day, I spent more than half of my day at work avoiding Tunji both physically and phone calls. At about 2pm, just after my lunch break, Becky came to my office with a bunch of flowers and a card that only said, “I AM SORRY”, she informed me that Tunji was around and had vowed not to leave the office premise until he saw me.
At the close of work, on my way out, I saw Tunji seated tiredly in the meeting room. He really had been here all day, I thought to myself and that made me feel bad. So I walked into the meeting room and Tunji’s eyes lit up.
“Okay, Tunji, let’s go have a drink or something.”
So we went to this spot I never knew existed, about three streets away from my office. As we walked in, I was sure that wasn’t Tunji’s first time there, but I wasn’t there to judge this man; I was there to see if there was even the slightest hope for us; I was there to be truthful to myself for the once in my life; I was there to see through Tunji. So I pushed my thoughts away and focused.
When we sat, Tunji instantly got on his knees, pulled out a black box from his pocket, took the ring out of it, took my left hand in his and said,
“Juju, now I am asking the question, please will you marry me? Be the mother of my children? Be the woman I spend the rest of my life with? Please I beg you baby, please’.
I took my hand away from his and he went again, crying, swearing, begging. I was really confused as to what to do or say. Then my phone rang. It was Paul.