6

Birthday

laveudafrica.com

laveudafrica.com

It was her birthday, but she wasn’t excited about it.
Somehow, this neighbour of hers with whom she’d only recently begun talking had convinced her to go hang out with him. She guessed it was ok, he seemed funny and he’d definitely drop her off home since he lived a few houses down from her. She smiled sweetly as he pushed his head against hers for another selfie. They were currently in a club, after downing a few bottles each at a popular joint in the heart of town. He pulled her up when his song began to play, and she had to admit, his enthusiasm was infectious. They danced and sweated and drank and laughed until everything became a blur.


They left the club around 3.30am and drove back to the neighbourhood in relaxed, companionable silence. He stopped at his house and offered her some more beers from his personal warehouse. She went in with him. They sat on the couch drinking super-chilled bottles of Snapp, and making fun of the actors in the Nollywood flick on tv.
So where’s your wife sef, in all this, she asked finally. She’d scanned the walls and there was no sign of wedding photos or a wife anywhere.
Hmm, he said, taking a swig from his bottle. She could tell he was stalling, trying to decide whether or not to tell her the truth.
I have a girlfriend, but she’s not here… actually, our parents are hell-bent on marrying us off. There’ll be a family introduction soon.
Ah, that’s nice. She wasn’t surprised, everyone carried more baggage than the cargo hold of a commercial airplane these days.
They continued talking, the gist flowing easily between them. She looked towards him to catch what he’d just said, and suddenly his face was right there. They kissed and it was the most natural thing to have happened. She turned back to the TV, and it was a few minutes before they faced each other again and really kissed. A deep reconnoitre of a kiss that told her; he was a bad boy. He was a very experienced bad boy who had no shame and no regrets. He dragged the breath from her throat and busied his hands with her breasts. He guided her hand to his crotch and her eyes flicked open, a moan of appreciation escaping jaggedly from between her lips, losing itself inside his mouth. He stopped suddenly, laughed and sheepishly said, gosh I have to go pee.
The minute he got up, she drained her bottle, shook her head roughly and grabbed her keys from his centre table. She crept to his front door and let herself out, then set off at a fast trot to her flat.
She was trying to find the key for her screen door when she thought she heard someone coming. Shit! She hastened her search, fit the key in the lock and let herself in. She slammed and locked the door in the nick of time like the classic inappropriately dressed blonde in every horror movie ever.
She heard him walking around the side of the house.
Hey, what’s wrong, I went into the bathroom and you ran away?! What’s going on. His voice was soft and low, to avoid attracting attention from the neighbours.
Why did you leave?
The moonlight and security light from a neighbouring flat allowed her see him frowning at her in concern.
Because… she shrugged limply.
Ok, open the door.
No, I’m not opening this door!
Why!
Because if I do, we’re going to fuck.
She could see his breath catch in his throat, watched him swallow and scratch his head.
Well… so let’s fuck, then!
But you’re committed to someone. I can’t deal with all that.
She didn’t know if it was all that beer finally kicking in, or the effects of the full moon but she felt a familiar mood descend on her and she smiled, wickedly.
She stood directly in front of him, only the sturdy mosquito netting between them. Slowly, she pulled her dress off over her head, and flung it away.
Fuck! He was prowling around outside now, like a dog inches away from his lunch.
Come closer, he rasped, coming to a stop in front of her.
She unclasped her bra and dropped it on the floor, pushing her swollen breasts against the net. He stuck out his tongue and flicked it against her nipples. She pushed her head back and laughed at his very evident frustration. Are you still wearing your panties? He asked.
In answer, she stepped out of her panties, held them up for him to see, then let them drop to the floor. She stepped into a slice of moonlight so that he could see her naked.
Good night, she said, unlocking her front door.
Come back, he hissed. He wanted to yell but couldn’t, because it was late and he didn’t want to be mistaken for a thief or something.
So he stood there paralysed as she went into her house and locked the door behind her. He stood there a while, hoping she’d reappear and yell, sike!
No such luck.
He walked back to his house, glad there was ice in his fridge. He’d need an extra cold shower to survive till morning.

Yours,
@MsMeddle

3

Fat Girl’s Guide

20-12-2014

The logical thing any (skinny) person will say is, if you’re unhappy with your weight then do something about it. Then the slow motion montage will begin to play with inspirational, heroic music going on in the background. You will see it like it always happens in the movies; young, fat, usually painfully plain girl with no visible skills or talent, suddenly fed up with being the butt (harhar) of mean jokes, takes a stand and decides to change, jogs up and down wearing different coloured t-shirts until she’s suddenly this curvy, lanky, sexy and talented thing. Continue reading