I welcomed her with respect since she was older than I was. I grabbed a clean napkin and scrubbed one of my better-looking benches clean for her to sit on – she looked so classy and sparkling, and I would not be the reason for the stains on her exquisite lace wrapper.
She did not even need to say anything or act anyway, she oozed of riches, and my jealousy was just beginning to get suppressed with my admiration for her growing.
As Suraju drove the car down the street to begin its repair, I went back to setting up shop and preparing to attend to my customers. For some reason, many of the guys who came around during the period which Alhaja spent in my shop behaved formally.
There was no unnecessary razzness or noise. They simply came, bought their concoction, greeted her with respect and left. Her presence had that much effect, and I began to wish I could also command such respect.
But then, it was quite impossible in this line of my work. Many times, I have to match my razzness with that of my customers to keep my credibility high and attract patronage.
Alhaja and I did not speak for a long time, until I walked past her to serve one of my customers, and she must have caught sight of my colourful waistbeads as they managed to slip through the gap between my shirt and my trousers.
Once the customer left, Alhaja spoke in the softest and silkiest voice I have ever heard. She told me to keep my beads under my clothes so that my customers would use their eyes to have sex with me.
The words took me unawares, but it was a task that one of my hands could quickly do. I appreciated her concern even though I know I did not mind if the guys saw my waistbeads – after my breasts, the beads on my waist were my second selling point, I use them to attract customers and sweet penis.
In my head, I hoped that I would not be getting a lecture from her on whatever decent or indecent dressing, not especially after I had heard her tape from Suraju.
Pot should not be calling the kettle black. “Is your waistbeads Kayamata?” The question took me off balance. Kayamata, how? She smiled and scoffed before stating that I should stop acting like a novice, many young girls use Kayamata now, and they always get it from people who deal in herbs.
In all honesty, she had not lied, and I knew about what she just said, my waistbeads are not Kayamata. They are just there for fashion, seduction and because I love them. The moment I mentioned seduction, she clapped her hands lightly and smiled again before saying we are still saying the same thing.
She took a quick look around before telling me to come inside my kiosk with her. We went in, and she asked me to block the entrance so that no one would know what was happening inside. I used my body as a shield and watched her begin to loosen her wrapper.
Gosh, this woman’s body was still in its prime, and she looked so dashing. Thick thighs that were not flabby, she wore tights under the wrapper, and my heart thumped so hard when she showed me exactly what she wanted to show me. It was her set of waistbeads – they were eight in total. She asked me to come and touch them, and I used that opportunity to feel the skin around her waist.
The smoothness was something I had never experienced. She chuckled and told me that her waistbeads are Kayamata, and she uses them to bind whoever she has sex with. With those waistbeads, she can control men and make them do whatever she wants.
For example, her husband is a workaholic, she lets him do all the work while she gets able-bodied men here to fuck her silly.
They are unable to turn her down or leave without her approval, and her husband has nothing to say about her lifestyle because she controls him too – she even chooses when she wants to have sex with him, and that was just every once in a while to renew her hold on him.
The way my mouth opened in surprise all through her monologue, saliva nearly dropped from my lips. Wow, I did not even know that people were going this far for real – I had only heard of Kayamata and never seen someone who was involved in it and believed in its efficacy.
She looked at me and smiled before advising me to step up my game by getting Kayamata beads, too. I quickly recomposed myself before stating that I had no belief in Kayamata.
The way I grew up, we were taught that it is the woman with sweet soup, sweet pussy and bedroom skills that will have full control of her husband.
She burst into bigger laughter now as she proceeded to tie her wrapper. She said, there is no natural sweet pussy, and everybody is now using pussy sweetener. She walked back to the bench I offered her earlier and asked me to prepare the concoction I gave Suraju the last time they came to me.
She praised the efficacy of the herb and said Suraju almost injured her with it. My jealousy was beginning to return once I heard this part, but I proceeded to make the herb for her.
Almost immediately after I finished, Suraju drove the car back to my shop to show that he was done fixing it. He rushed down like a puppy that missed its mother. Alhaja handed her handbag to him and asked him to take it to the car and open the door for her.
He said a quick “yes ma”, took the bag and rushed back to the car while Alhaja stood beside me smiling at the way Suraju fidgeted with the errand.
She looked at me and smiled before handing me a big bundle of cash – she just paid me what I would make in two weeks or more for a single order. I had no idea how I sank to my knees in appreciation as she walked away waving my appreciation away.
For most of the day, I was happy, but when I got home and started to account for my sales of the day, I began to realise some things. This woman had just come to show me how rich and powerful she was.
She had indirectly told me that she had snatched Suraju from me using her Kayamata, and there was nothing that I could do about it. I began to imagine how the duo would have gone to a hotel to use the concoction that I formulated to fuck themselves, and it just made me angry.
I remembered how Suraju told me that he had to fuck madam overtime and how Alhaja said Suraju almost wounded her, it made me angry again as I began to believe that Alhaja had intentionally given me that detail to tell me that I was not a match for her if I tried to compete with her over Suraju’s penis.
At a point, I accepted my fate even though I was angry. I did not bother to call Suraju again; he was a lost cause. However, just two days after this incident, Suraju called me. At first, I was not going to pick up his call, but then I was curious. Immediately, I picked up, before I could say anything, he told me that Alhaja wanted to talk to me.
I was immediately irritated. Has Suraju become this much of a lapdog? I wondered why she wanted to speak to but then, maybe she wanted to purchase another dose of my aphrodisiac herb – that was a welcome idea, so long as it fetched me money.
Her silky voice came into my ear and told me that she urgently needed my help, which she would also pay me for. Her husband is home and a bit under the weather, so she wanted me to help him make something for his fever and take it home to him.
She would pay me for the full day and also pay for my transportation. Even if I wanted to refuse out of pride, the moment she said she would pay me for the full day, I was sold. They sent me money and the address.
I took one look at my kiosk and decided that I was closed for the day. I returned home and prepared herbs for fever and even malaria. But then, I wanted to revalidate my notion that it was sweet pussy, sweet stew and bedroom skills that held the man and not Kayamata.
So, I made some stew, and I added some condiments to the already prepared herbs – their work was to give him an immediate, not easily quenched boner. When all was set, I went to take my bath, came back and sprayed perfume, grabbed one of my push-up bras to amplify my already easy-to-notice breasts.
By the time I finished, the Uber was waiting. I packed my stuff and headed for Alhaja’s residence. That place looked like a palace, the gateman let me in with no fuss and directed me on where to go.
Once I got to the sitting room, it was wide and empty. Alhaji came in clad in a long, white jalabia. He seemed so nice with a charming smile that showed two of his golden teeth.
I immediately set to work and told him that he needed to eat before drinking the herbs that I had brought. I asked him how he was feeling as I set out to serve him the stew and fried meat.
The way I bent over, I was giving him a free view of my yellow cleavage as my breasts threatened to spill out of my bra and dress.
Written by Reezy Sama
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