“Girl, you need to have seen the bag! Smooth, real crocodile skin like polished silver! And in a beautiful shade of chocolate brown! It was lust at first sight!”

“Why didn’t you buy it then if it was so pretty?” asked Meera, smiling at her friend’s colourful language.

Tracy grimaced as if she had tasted some bitter medicine.
“It’s my dad o! He seized all my credit cards and placed a limit on the amount I can spend while shopping. And do you know how much that is?” she queried. Meera looked at her eagerly like one expecting a great story.

“N500k! Can you imagine! A whole me, Tracy! What am I supposed to buy with that kind of money! It’s not even enough for a designer dress and a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes. God, that old man is driving me nuts!” she said with feeling.
From the other end of the large sitting room, I sat reading a newspaper while paying half an ear to the conversation between Meera, my wife and one of her closest friends, Tracy. I could always predict what they spoke about whenever they met for some ‘girl time’ as my wife put it. It was often about the latest designer clothes, shoes and bags, the ‘hottest’ human hair weave from Brazil or one Asian country or the other, the best diet to trim belly fat and so on...
Initially, I had found it all amusing but recently, it was beginning to get on my nerves. I couldn’t understand their obsession with such stuff, things I considered frivolities.
“You know your problem, Dave. You take life too seriously! Learn to relax. And enjoy life! And what is money meant for if not for spending on things one likes?” she had said a few weeks before when I had complained about her spending habits especially on clothes.
You see, Meera grew up in great wealth. Her late father, a multi-millionaire industrialist and businessman had denied her nothing as a child. She had thus grown up with a sense of entitlement, that she could get anything she wanted in life. And she usually did. Afterall, she got me, didn’t she? But I’m getting ahead of my story...
I turned the paper to the sports section and was reading a story on the recent titanic clash between Chelsea and Man U in the English Premier League competition when my four year-old-daughter Cyndi came into the room. She had just woken up from a nap and her eyes looked swollen with sleep. “Daddy I’m hungry! I want something to eat!” she demanded, tugging impatiently at my hand. I looked in the direction of her mother who was still chatting animatedly with her friend.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you meet Mummy? I’m sure she will prepare something nice for you to eat,” I told her, caressing her plump cheeks fondly.
She skipped towards her mother and I returned to my paper.
“Can’t you see I’m busy? Go and meet Cook!” I heard my wife telling Cyndi in a sharp tone of voice.
“But, Mummy, she’s not at home! And I’m hungry!” And she began to cry. Being Sunday, it was the Cook’s day off. Usually, one of the two maids we had did the cooking during the man’s off days. But both were not around as well. So, why can’t Meera, the madam of the house do the cooking, you might wonder. The truth was that she can’t cook. That might sound strange to some people that a grown woman with a family can’t cook but it’s the truth. And there’s a reason for it which I will explain to you, dear reader later.
As I could not bear to see Cyndi cry, I had to go to the kitchen to prepare lunch that day. After feeding my daughter, I also made some food for Meera and her friend.
“This is nice,” Tracy said as she ate the rice I had prepared. Then turning to me, she added:
“You must be an exception as most men I know can’t cook. You seem to have so many talents. I envy you Meera. You don’t know how lucky you are to have him.”
Meera didn’t say anything but simply focused on her food. As I left the table, I could feel Tracy’s eyes boring into me and even without looking at her, I knew what the expression in them would be. Lust. Desire. Longing.
My wife’s friend had never hidden the fact that she wanted me to date her. It didn’t start recently. It all began from the early days when I first met Meera and our story began:









........THE STORY CONTINUES.....

When ?

This is it,am enjoing this story.

Bookmarked

Continue bro

Definitely following

I've seen this somewhere.

Fully ehn... Which language will I use now...


Come... I dey your back

Na dis kind thing i no dey like ooo,y u go kip for suspence.d last tym somebody tried dat wit me.....i won't tell u what happend.
Oya come n continue. Nice work

Following..

Ouch, this is like phcn abi nepa taking light when the opera is just getting so interesting.

Mr man...where did you run off to ? Come and continue this wonderful work...

Blue diamond: Na dis kind thing i no dey like ooo,y u go kip for suspence.d last tym somebody tried dat wit me.....i won't tell u what happend.
Oya come n continue. Nice work

I hope the person is still alive

oyestephen:
I hope the person is still alive

with one eye,one hand n one leg,i guess he was lucky.

Blue diamond:
with one eye,one hand n one leg,i guess he was lucky.

I won't wanna mess with you myself *scared*

Come nd continue dis story na

Guyz, i'm still alive and Thanks for following...... I'm updating tomorow 1:20pm. Luv u all.

Thank God you're still alive...
Notwithstanding, after your updates, you will receive 36 strokes of koboko, for keeping us waiting

[quote author=Eze Promoe]
Give us links if your claim is true.[/quote
?

Eze Promoe:
Give us links if your claim is true.

I'm waiting for Fankasibe to challenge my allegation.

The angry landlady

At the time we first met, I had just moved into a new apartment. It was in a fairly expensive part of town. Ordinarily, I would not have been able to afford it on the salary I earned as a computer programmer in a private firm. But it was my cousin, Nick who was behind my moving to the new place. He had lived abroad for years and was planning to relocate to the country.

“I’m thinking of a couple of businesses I can do back in Nigeria,” he had stated one day when he had called me on the phone. He said he planned staying for about six months while researching the business and since it would be expensive staying in a hotel, he instructed me to look for an apartment in a quiet part of town.
Through a reliable agent I knew, I got a nice three-bedroom apartment in an estate where fairly rich people lived. Nick had sent money for the rent and also some of the furnishing. I left my old flat for two of my younger brothers who were living with me and moved into Nick’s apartment. I had been there for about two months and was preparing for Nick’s arrival when I met Meera. It was in a dramatic way.

I had arrived home from work one evening to see my usually quiet compound in commotion. A young lady I had never seen before was in a heated argument with one of the tenants who lived on the top floor of the building. They stood, with a couple of other men in the large, open courtyard of the house.
She was practically screaming at the tenant.

“I’m sick and tired of your excuses! My manager has written you so many letters, yet no action. Every day, it’s one story or the other and I’m fed up! You are owing over one year’s rent and instead of paying up, you keep telling one story or the other. It’s either your business is not doing well, your wife just gave birth to twins or one other tale. I’ve had enough! If you can’t afford to stay in a place like this, then look for somewhere cheaper. I’ve given you enough time to pay the arrears.”
The tenant in question was pleading for more time to pay up.

“Please Madam. Just give some more time. I promise to get the money,” he stated.
She considered that for a moment then said:
“Three months! That’s all I’m giving you.” She turned to one of the men standing beside her whom I recognised as the property manager.
“John, you better take note of that. If he doesn’t pay up after that period, he will have to be evicted,” she threatened. Then turning, she marched angrily towards the gate near where I stood with a couple of other onlookers.
That was when a strange thing happened.
As she passed by where I was, she glanced casually at me, then did a double take.

“Michael!” she called out excitedly. I looked behind me, thinking she was addressing one of the people there. But she kept looking straight at me. I looked back, a puzzled expression on my face.
It was on coming closer that she exclaimed: “Oh! I’m sorry. You look like someone I used to know.” I smiled briefly.
“That’s ok,” I said. The manager then introduced us.
“You are the new tenant then. Nice to meet you. Hope you are settling in nicely,” she stated. We chatted for a while then she left.
As she walked away, she kept glancing back and I could hear her say to her manager:
“He looks so much like Michael. The same features and physique. Really weird...”
That was how I met Meera, who turned out to be my landlady. According to the other tenants, she hardly used to come to the house. “We see more of the manager than her,” stated one of them.

As I went up to my apartment, I thought about my landlady, wondering how someone of her age could own a big property in a choice area like that. It was much later, when I got to know more about her that I learnt she had inherited the building and some others from her father who had died some years earlier.
After that encounter, I didn’t see Meera for nearly four months. Not surprising since we moved in completely different circles. She was a multi-millionaire’s daughter who belonged to the upper class of society while I was just an average guy trying to make my way in the world.
So, it came as a surprise when I ran into her one evening on my street on my way from a store not far from my house. She was alone in her car and she beckoned on me.

“So, how’s my new tenant doing?” she said smiling warmly at me through the car window.
I smiled back. “It’s nearly six months now so I’m not so new anymore,” I told her to which she laughed. We stood talking for a while then she asked unexpectedly: “Are you doing anything special this weekend?” I looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“Why do you ask?” “Well, it’s my best friend Tracy’s birthday. And she’s having this little bash this Saturday. As I don’t have any one to go with me, I was wondering if you could be my date for the night,” she stated.
It was the last thing I was expecting her to say and my surprise must have registered on my face for she added:
“I know you might be wondering why I’m asking you or to put it more bluntly, what about my boyfriend? Well, I don’t have one and I don’t need one right now after my experience with my ex. So, are you going or not?”
The first thought that came to my mind was: ‘Wow, this lady doesn’t beat around the bush. She goes for whatever she wants!’
But to her, I said: “I don’t mind the idea. But give me till Friday and I’ll let you know if I can make it or not.” “That’s ok. Just give me a call then.”
We exchanged numbers and she left. ”Men, I think she likes you,” said Nick when I narrated the incident to him at home.
I shook my head.
”That can’t be possible. I mean look at me. How can a lady like that– rich, beautiful, well-connected from a wealthy background be interested in an ordinary guy like me?”
“You underrate yourself. You are quite good looking, you know. Besides, some of these posh girls like guys from the ‘hood, with a touch of ghetto. They find it exciting,” he said.
“Wait a minute. Are you calling me a ghetto guy?”
“So? You weren’t exactly born and bred in Ikoyi, were you?” he said. I made a face at him and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

I attended the party with Meera that weekend. It was held in a nightclub which had been booked exclusively for the party. It was a real eye-opener. Hitherto, I had never had much contact with very rich people. So mixing with them that night, seeing those children of the rich party showed me the other side of life. That there were some people in this world who never had to worry where the next meal was coming from or money for the rent or the children’s school fees and other challenges of everyday life that the average person goes through.







........THE STORY CONTINUES........

good work,nice writeup...........waiting patiently for the concluding part of the story..

beycitee: good work,nice writeup...........waiting patiently for the concluding part of the story..

same as me

Intriguing , av never read a similar story line before,waiting for the continuation

nah this kin ting i no dey like oh.....why u never update nah?

blessings follow u

Nice one hope you won't disappoint o