The Player and The Cele Girl (cont’d)
Is it the stress?… Is it the rush?… Should they take it slow and get to have a conversation first?… Is his mind not there?… What’s wrong with him?… Why won’t John Thomas rise up?
Although still on top of Debby, Tunde was experiencing the strangest, most bewildering moment of his entire life. Had he suddenly gone impotent? Or which active guy goes numb at the sight of a sumptuous naked woman?… Let alone lying on top of one.
Fear was steadily creeping in though he was still humping and grinding, he was hoping he was satisfying the girl enough for her not to notice his numbness.
“First time meeting for heaven’s sake!” he almost thought out loud.
Just as he was about telling Debby to hold on, his phone rang.
“I thought I told you to switch off your phone.”
“I switched it off… How come it’s ringing?”
“Yeah right. Go and pick your call.”
Right about that time, an expression of fear and frustration was clearly written all over Tunde’s face and with a sigh, he pressed the green button on his phone, to receive the most frightening call he had ever received in his entire life.
“Hey! How are you?”
“I’m fine. Are you in Benin now?”
“Yeah, it was a stressful journey though.”
“I see… (Laugh)… Sorry dear.”
“Thanks. What’s funny?”
“Nothing. Don’t mind me.”
“Tell me. I insist to know” Tunde had a straight voice now.
“Ok, just wondering how come you’re in a hotel in Lag with a nice chick. Instead of in Benin with your cousin.”
The sweat that erupted from Tunde’s inside sent goose pimples all over his body. He didn’t discuss his movement with anyone. Even Debby was phone conversations during night calls in his hostel.
“I’m not in…”
“Oh! Save it pls. And why exactly are you sweating in that cool AC?… Is it because of what I said or the inactivity of your manhood?”
At this point, Tunde felt like vanishing into thin air or just opening his eyes to realize he had been dreaming but it didn’t get past that level – Wishes.
“You are not talking?… Mr. Player. See let me tell you something. You have been doing it for different girls abi? But I will show you my true colour. You think all girls are the same yeah? I will be the last girl you’ll ever cheat on. Thank your stars I changed my mind on locking your crooked thing inside her stinking public hole. Debby or what’s that her name… That useless girl. I don’t blame her sha. Let me just leave her. Bros, FYI your this thing can’t work. Let me just tell you; in fact, it will never work again. It has even tried sef. Hasn’t it? (Laugh). Player of life. Mtcheww! Why am I even wasting my credit sef? He-Goat! (Line cuts)”
For all Tunde knew, he didn’t put the phone on speaker. How the phone had gotten on speaker, he didn’t know and he didn’t care. This was a matter of life and death and whatever happened to Debby was none of his business as he scrambled for his bag. To his surprise, everything he had brought into the room was gone. Vanished!
This was getting serious. He made his way to the reception, in his birthday suit, begged for a shirt and pants and between fifteen minutes, he was on a night bus, back to school. Throughout what was the longest, most terrifying journey of his life, his hands were in the pockets of his pants, massaging his device but getting it to respond had suddenly become rocket science. It was so numb, it was only through touching it that he knew it was still attached to his body; otherwise, it was like nothing was between his thighs. Halfway through the journey was when it occurred to him that Sarah was a conk Celestial girl. The white garments, no shoes church. He had heard that these people (and their candles) were not to be messed with but he had discarded that info with a wave of his left hand.
People had asked him what he was doing with a cele girl and on one occasion, his response had been “Even if she’s a witch, I would ‘screw’ (not exactly the word used) away her witchcraft.”
Tunde got back to school around 11:45pm and went straight to the university chaplain’s office, who he was told was in his prayer room. Every attempt by the chaplain’s P.A to either know what exactly the matter of life and death was or to make him come back the next morning proved abortive. He was sweating, both palms on his head and was mumbling inaudibly. At last, around quarter past midnight, the clergy asked to see him in the prayer room and hardly had he entered that he burst into tears as he began to narrate the story of his life to the one person he was certain could pull him out of this life threatening mess.
© Mature Minds Talk.