Once Bitten, Twice Lie (2)

It is important that you read the first part of this story before you proceed. If you haven’t, then see it HERE.

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When I got outside, I tried to wipe the smudges of Hauwa’s lipstick off my shirt without much success. Even wafts of her Estee Lauder perfume lingered on my collar. There’s no telling what Aunty Amaka would say when she noticed them, and she would. I smiled...

ONE HOUR AND THIRTY MINUTES EARLIER…

After placing my order, I took in the view of the pool outside. There were few people out there, the usual white men, and some kids with their mothers. One of the women was wiping herself with a towel. From behind, there was something familiar about the hips…those obscenely accentuated hips, I couldn’t be too sure. Then she turned my way and faced me. Our eyes met and I recognised her. She did too.

How could it be? But it was.

It was Hauwa, in all her glory.

She continued to wipe herself down, taking her time and mopping off any lingering wetness. If she had any reaction, she didn’t display it, at least not outwardly.

I sipped my Jack Daniels and felt it scorch my throat. I didn’t show any erection reaction either.

When she was done, she draped a shawl over her shoulders, wrapped her hips in a sarong and began to gather her things. Then she came towards the bar, walking in the same languid manner. She hadn’t aged a day since I last saw her, four years ago.

“Hi.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She forced eased her hips into a bar-stool, one bar-stool away from mine.  

“Hello.” I didn’t look up at her; I concentrated on the contents of my glass.

“Come on Richard, you can’t still be sour grapes about last time. It’s been how long, five years? Grow a pair.”

 “Of course not,” I smiled, “I didn’t mean to be rude, what will you have?”

“That’s better, I’ll have an appletini”. “You see”, she continued “It was just a game, only I happened to play it better.”

I motioned to the bleached case  lady behind the counter and she nodded.

“So what are you doing here in Lag? Are you now divorced?” I was looking at her ring-less finger.

“I wish! I only took it off to swim but sometimes it gets more comfortable that way” Her smile was full of mischief.

Hauwa and I talked for the next forty-five minutes, though I didn’t take much notice of the time then. And in that period we had four glasses of JD and appletini together. From our discussion, I gathered that her husband the (now retired) naval officer had been invited to Lagos for some APC pre-election event and had dragged her along. They were lodged by the party in this very hotel. The children were with her mom back at Abuja and since she wasn’t so particular about politics the whole trip was a long bore for her.

“…won’t be back until later” She concluded.

“What?” I hadn’t been listening. I was suddenly wondering how she had managed to fit her hips into the bar-stool.

“I said the Admiral went golfing with his friends and wouldn’t be back until dark. You know what that means?” Her lascivious smile was back.

“He really loves golf?”

“No, silly. It means I can make up to you for last time.”

My face lit up. “Are you sure about this? The Admiral…”

“Yeah, don’t worry. It’s alright, but you will have to come up some minutes after I do. The room is 625c”. She whispered and sashayed towards the lift.

I got the tab and counted to 120. It was the longest two minutes. I went upstairs. The door opened after the first knock.

The room was massive, probably the largest I had seen in a hotel. The drapes stood out in quality and my shoes sunk into the Oriental rug. It was like walking at the beach. But the most discerning feature in the room was the enormous bed…no, it was who was in the bed.

Now dressed in frilly Victoria’s Secret lingerie and sprawled demurely on the luxury giraffe bedding sheets, Hauwa was the sheer personification of seduction. I pursed my lips to whistle but no sound came out.

 “Well? Don’t just stand there.” She beckoned.

I started to take of my shoes but she pulled me down and we began to kiss.

“Wait…have you got any restraints?” I asked

“Oh you naughty, I knew it!” She was excited. She reached into the wardrobe and provided a pair of play-cuffs. Trust Hauwa to have them.

I cuffed both her hands to bed-posts and we resumed kissing, this time it was even more frenzied…

Until I stopped.

When I began to wear my shoes Hauwa just stared at me as if I had gone mad.

“Hello? What’s happening here…what do you think you are doing?”

I didn’t say a word until I dressed fully in my Mai Atafo suit.

“You were right about last time, it was a game and you played it better. Only this time I am playing it better, so we are even. Say hello to the Admiral for me.”

“Richard! Richard!! You can’t do this to me; get me out of these cuffs…Shege! Dan banza!!”

I gently closed the door behind me and put the ‘Don’t disturb’ sign on the knob.

When I got outside, the wind reminded me that I had conveniently left my jockey-boxers on the plush Oriental rug back in Hauwa’s room. I hated that I had to leave it there but it was necessary for the picture.

I tried to wipe the smudges of Hauwa’s lipstick off my shirt without much success. Even wafts of her Estee Lauder perfume lingered on my collar. There’s no telling what aunty Amaka would say when she noticed them…and she would. I smiled. The notorious Ikeja traffic was starting to build up when I began to walk in the direction of the church, back to Archbishop Vining…

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Once Bitten, Twice Lie (1)

"IF THERE'S anyone here who does not think they should get married, speak now or forever hold your peace..." 

The whole room was deathly silent. The groom did a slow turn and looked back at the rest of the congregation, he was sweating. At the other end of the aisle, some bulky guys in aviator shades stood by the entrance. Bouncers in church…that was a first.  

A silent beep. I checked my phone; Nadia had just sent me pouting selfie. Aunty Amaka from across the pew gave me a derisive look, nothing escaped her. I silenced the phone and put it in my suit. Suit by Mai Atafo.

“I now pronounce you man and….”

“HELL NO!”

“AINT THAT SHIT GONNA HAPPEN!”

Three intruding women had forced open the doors of the church and were making for the altar. One of the bouncers was on the floor, his designer sunglasses slid across the other side of the room. It was understandable; the women were built like rhinos. And one of them was even pregnant.

“You think you can knock up ma sis and marry some other bitch back here in Africa? Hell no!”

From their accent, I could tell they were Americans. They were black Americans.

By now, one of the women was close to the groom but a bouncer had got hold of her. The bouncer who was knocked down had recovered and grabbed the pregnant woman. Now it made sense why there were bouncers in church. The groom had committed back in the States and wanted to get hitched here. Only this time he had picked the wrong woman, as the only way these women could be described as was ratchet. They were just ratchet.

The groom and priest were hurdled behind the altar. The bride was screaming and the pregnant one was yelling back. The bridesmaid threw herself at the third woman and both of them began to roll on the floor.

“Lord have mercy! Lord have mercy!!” Boomed the speakers. It was the priest still on the microphone.The speakers boomed.

 The church was in pandemonium. When it was obvious that the wedding wouldn’t continue (at least not today), people began to leave for the exits.

Beep! My phone again. It was Nadia, this time the picture was more than just a pouting selfie. I muttered my own “Lawd have mercy!”

“Ricky, wetin go happen now, no reception?” Nosike was my cousin, Aunty Amaka’s son.

“Sike (pronounced Psyche) I don’t know”, I answered. “Ask the groom”.

I made my way through the melee of people and was glad for the fresh air outside. I tried to remember how aunty convinced me to attend the wedding; everything that could go wrong had gone wrong. I pulled out a cigarette and was about to light it when someone from the choir told me it was illegal to smoke within the church premises. I asked him if fighting in the church was illegal too.

A few minutes later, I realised I couldn’t find Aunty Amaka anywhere or Nosike for that matter. Somehow they had mixed with the crowd (Maybe Sike was at the reception looking for food, wherever that was). I didn’t want to start looking. I couldn’t make any calls either; Nadia’s string of provocative pictures had drained my battery.

I decided to walk across the street from the Church. Sheraton Hotel Ikeja was somewhat opposite, quite a walking distance from there. I would have some drinks and go back to Archbishop Vining when the crowd had cleared.

I entered through the lobby and made my way to the hotel bar. The lady behind the counter was as fair as ripe lemons but her knuckles were black, as in Alek Wek black. It explained why Dencia’s Whitenicious had sold out only weeks after its launch.

After placing my order, I took in the view of the pool outside. There were few people out there, the usual white men, and some kids with their mothers. One of the women was wiping herself with a towel. From behind, there was something familiar about the hips…those obscenely accentuated hips, I couldn’t be too sure. Then she turned my way and faced me. Our eyes met and I recognised her. She did too.

How could it be? But it was.

It was Hauwa, in all her glory.

To be continued…

If you don’t remember Hauwa, then refresh your memory here Valentine Blues.