“Jonathan, when are you going to bring your wife for us to see?” My mom askedme.
I nearly spat out the juice I was sipping, almost choked on it.
“Ah, mommy. Which wife? I’m just 30 years old nau?” I answered her.
“Will you shut up? I gave birth to you, I know your age. Your father married me when he was 29 years old. You are supposed to have at least brought her here and let her know how nice your mother is.” My mother smiled sarcastically and gave me a mischievous look. I laughed, I knew she was joking about being nice.
“Ma, you know I can’t bring any girl here because I know she’ll regret ever stepping her foot in here by the time you’re through with her.”
“What does that mean? So you’re never getting married?”
“Actually, I’ve been thinking about it. I’m not sure marriage is meant for me.” I told my mother.
“You must be mad.” She told me and I laughed even more.
I’d gone to pay my mother my usual weekend visitation and was on my way back home. She must have thought what I said to her was a joke but I’d been giving it serious thought over the past few weeks after the events with Amaka and Ms. Joy.
I wasn’t quite sure how I could cope with a life of being married and having sex with only one woman for the rest of my life. It was better that I stayed unmarried and fooled around as much as I liked. The way pussy was coming to me currently was even too much for me to handle. Just as I had that thought, my phone rang. I kept one eye on the road and used the other to check who was calling. It was an Etisalat number. No name. I let the phone continue to ring until it stopped and then I dialed the number. The person at the other end picked the call almost immediately.
A guy? I suddenly lost 50% interest in the call.
“Yeah, who is it?”
“Joe, It’s me jorr. Haba, why you no dey like to save person number?” He asked.
“No vex. It must have skipped my mind.”
“Na me jorr. Charles.”
“Oh… Charlo, how you dey bro?” I now remember why I didn’t save his number. A colleague at work, he was quite a troublesome guy. A wonderful womanizer. I mean, this guy was Hercules compared to me, a dwarf, when it came to bedding chicks.
“Mahn, I’m good. See, e get gig wey wan go down for Gbenga crib on Friday night. Oh boy, Gbenga talk say e don make arrangements for strippers to show that night. I know say you dey like that kind thing. You fit turn up?”
“Charles, are you mad? Are you asking if I will show? Do you know what I’ll do to you if this gig went down without you inviting me?”
He laughed like a crazed maniac. “Jooooe my guy. I could never have forgotten to invite you. So I’ll be at your crib before we both leave. I’ll be coming with a couple of friends.”
“Okay bruh. Thanks. Till then. I dey steering, abeg. Make I no jam person.”
“Hahaa. Okay nau. Later.”
I had planned to go clubbing that Friday night but somehow I just got invited to a party which would involve free booze and strippers. Even better.
Friday night arrived and Charles was in my sitting room shouting at the top of his lungs as he scored a goal on FIFA 14. He was a very boisterous fellow. I wonder how those who were really close to him coped. He came with girl who I wondered if she was his girlfriend. He was going to a party where strippers would be present.
He surely wouldn’t want to make his girlfriend feel bad. Come to think of it, how could Charles even have a girlfriend? That was like saying a rainbow had just one colour.
An hour later and we headed out to Gbenga’s crib. They didn’t come with a car so we used mine. Charles said his had to sleep at the mechanic over a faulty carburettor, I didn’t mind. All I could think of was the lap-dance I expected to get that night. And the free booze. The free booze especially.
We arrived at Gbenga’s house. A few cars were already parked in the vast compound. Charles led the way as we entered into the dimly lit sitting room. A song by Wizkid was blaring from the speakers, I took a minute to take in the scene before me. In the centre of the sitting room was a large round, glass centre table, on top of it where all sorts of drinks. White wine, Red wine, Brandy, Whiskey, Vodka, Beers in bottles and cans, some drinks I couldn’t recognize. Some were soft drinks.
Some were energy drinks, the table had me staring at it for so long that I didn’t hear Charles calling to me. I looked at him. He was laughing at me. He gave me a look like “this is just the beginning, bruh”. I’m sure he meant the strippers. They had arranged the settees around the centre of attraction and a few guys were occupying the chairs. I wondered how many more were coming. Charles’ girl was the only female there and I’m sure she felt quite uneasy. Why did he even bother to bring her? It wasn’t till later in the evening that I got surprised.
About 30 minutes later the strippers arrived. Four of them. The moment I saw them my jaw dropped, these strippers were fucking classy. They didn’t look like strippers at all. On a normal day, I wasn’t quite sure I could be able to walk my way towards fucking any one of them. I picked my jaw from where it had fallen on the floor and took a sip from my vodka/energy drink mixture. I could feel my dick getting excited already…
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