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Thanking you very much. First to sit on the high table waiting for the rest guest. Meanwhile bar man mr tecno4life come serve me quick quick

Niwdog:
Thanking you very much. First to sit on the high table waiting for the rest guest. Meanwhile bar man mr tecno4life come serve me quick quick

U fada head dem tell u say na all thread I dey do bar man 4
OTONDO

Relax

tecno4life:


U fada head dem tell u say na all thread I dey do bar man 4
OTONDO

if u don't want the job, another man want am

Niwdog:
Relaxif u don't want the job, another man want am

ONE
She thought it'd be nice if she made something local. Egwusi soup perhaps.

But she hasn't seen him eat that before. She hasn't even seen him eat anything. Before that Friday of last week she never could have imagined there was still a possibility for her to feel this way again.

Every heartbreak came with a different kind of torture, and its accompanying decision. Ujunwa has had them enough to be sure she was never going to feel anything for any man again.

The last one had been two years ago. It might as well be the worst. He had come with a refreshing sugariness at the start, a deep promise of hope. His name had been Ireti, something alike, something that had ‘hope’ in its meaning. That might have been a lie too.
He told her that he was going to replenish all the love she has lost in the past. And she so believed him. So she had given it her all, as she always did.

She had always told herself, 'Uju, you are not that tall or beautiful to be so choosy.' And so she returned love with immense gratitude. She always obeyed, endured, whatever it required to make it last. Her dream was to finally one day become a wife. She would then know that she has finally won. She would call it her victory.

But Ujunwa was always defeated, sometimes even before the battle took off.

That day she discovered Ireti had been married, a beautiful wife and two lovely girls, she didn't cry as she did a year earlier when Ikenna disappeared to Malaysia with all her money.
She gently pulled off the ring he had engaged her with and dropped it on the table before him, his wife and kids. The whole staff of Tantalizers was watching.

Without a word, to him or his wife, he walked back to the front and picked her order.
Inside her blue Corolla, she turned the player on and Beyonce's Halo started where it had stopped when she parked the car. She quickly changed the song.

She turned the volume high and sang along the chorus as led by Pink, 'So, so what? I'm still a rock star, I got my rock moves...'
In her flat, she didn't cry either. It has always been the ritual whenever it happened, but that day she was feeling different. An overwhelming sense of control engulfed her.

She poured herself a glass from the bottle she had bought earlier, the one she'd kept specially for their meeting that evening.
She poured a glassful into her mouth and poured out another which she drank up quickly again. She lifted the glass and hurled it at the wall above her TV. It shattered.

As she picked the tiny glass pieces, she envisioned them as the pieces of her heart so she picked them with delicate care.
That evening when she threw away the trash with the glass pieces inside, she was sure she had thrown away her heart. And she felt so good afterwards. The thought that 'it' would never happen again.

It had ever worked so because since the morning that followed that day, she saw men differently. The cuter they appear, the more nauseating they made her feel. And when they try to be nice, she only felt pity for them.

Silently walks in unnoticed, I must steal techno4life's chinko 2dae with my stealth...

But the Friday of last week has changed something, if not everything. She was surprised. The harder she tried putting on the barricading thoughts, the more he crumbled them. Without effort.

'I'm so sorry, my dear, I wasn't looking,' he'd said to her as he bent to pick her papers which he'd knocked off.
'Please, don't be so mad at me, you see--'

She jerked the papers and cards from him. She raised a wary eye at him. 'Thanks,' she said, ever so grudgingly. She started to rearrange her file.

'Can I help you with that?'

She gave him another look and walked off. She was already at the gate of her office building when he called, 'Miss?'

She turned, doing nothing to mask her impatience.

'Please can I get your card?'

Her brows came together. 'What for?'

'Well, you see, I just started with the Green--' He pointed at the next building. '...apparently we are neighbors. I mean since you work with Armac's, we...we can...it'd just be nice if we connect.'

She noticed he was tense. His forehead had grown sweaty. It might have been this feeble show of vulnerability that got her interested. She wondered if men blush so visibly. But then she also noticed that he was good-looking. She ridded herself of the thought quickly.

She was surprised at herself that she didn't feel nauseated.

'Well, I don't work here,' she said.

'Oh, you don't?'

'I work with Armac's, yes, but not this branch. I'm only here to--' She remembered she doesn't have much time. She opened her purse and handed him a white card.

He looked at it. Ujunwa Okolo. Head, Corporate Communications. He nodded. He raised his face and saw that she was gone. He half smiled.

When he called that evening, she was quick to notice he's got back his cool. He sounded so in control.

She stared at the unknown number for a while before she swiped across the screen.

‘Helo.’ He had to say this a few times.

‘Who’s this?’

‘My name is Ayo. I’d like to speak to Miss O-ju-n-wa please.’

She felt slightly amused at the way he called her name. She had guessed but she still asked, ‘May I know who Ayo is?’ She had put on her edited voice, the one she used to talk to clients at work.

‘I was the guy that knocked off your papers in front of Armac’s building.’

‘Oh, the blind guy. I see.’

She heard an appropriate chuckle. ‘I’d have to say that I’m sorry again.’

She hummed. ‘It’s ok. So why are you calling me?’

‘Oh, I’m just calling to say hi.’

She was surprised he replied so fast. ‘Okay. I’d say thanks then.’

‘You need not to.’

‘What?’

‘It’s a huge delight hearing from you.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Bye, angel.’

He ended the call before she could do it herself. She felt beaten.

He called her everyday after that till finally it became an evening end-of-work culture.

The last time they spent over an hour, laughing, arguing. She was cooking but she had had to turn off the gas and walk out to the sitting room.

After they shared another bout of laughter he made about his white boss, his voice turned serious and he told her he needed to see her, that he has something to tell her.

She tried but he insisted it wasn’t something they’d talk about on the phone.

Finally the Saturday of their meeting had come. An unusual feeling had been with her all day. Something close to a disproportionate mix of excitement and apprehension.

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Following

ichei danwrite is at it again

Next chapter pleaseeeeeeee

Nice pice

following

Eyes, mind, heart n bodi fully ready 2 follow dx work. Danwrites keep it up!!!

Thank God i dragged my self here,Dan are you there with your story,please open up o,i can't miss this for any thing

Thanks guys.
Chapter Two comes up this evening.

I |uv d story....its interesting, waiting 4more update...

I |uv d story....its interesting, waiting 4d update...

Two

She waited for the knock to come again.

She opened the door. As surprising as interesting as it is, he was dressed rather sporty, in a white and black striped Polo shirt and dark grey chinos. With his blue Vans trainers, he created the impression of a UNILAG student.

'Good evening.' They said this together.

She smiled and he chuckled, revealing sparkling, well-set teeth. 'Can I come in?' he said.

'Of course.' She showed him in.

He looked round the room. 'Beautiful place.'

'Thank you.'

He moved close to a painting of her on the wall. 'Your mum?'

Her eyes got wide. 'That's me.'

'Oh. The painter should refund you then.'

Interest flickered in her eyes. 'You think it's not nice?'

He said nothing. Then he gave a tiny shrug. ‘Not done well.’

‘What?’

He turned back to her. ‘I see beauty not fully represented.’

She couldn’t help but pull down her eyes. She’d felt a discomforting rush of emotion. Something she hadn’t felt for so long a time, never knew she could still feel. She nearly became angry with herself.

Matters worsening, he took her hand. His palm was soft and warm, almost feminine. 'I'll paint you finer,' he said.

'If I let you.' She took back her hand, hoping he hadn’t noticed they’d grown sweaty in his touch.

'Of course,' he said. ‘I will beg if need be.’

Change the topic now, a voice said in her head. 'I made stew,' she said

'What?'

'I made stew in case you are hungry.'

'Oh I am.'

At the table, his eyes lingered on her all the while they ate.

She felt so weak under his stare. She couldn’t describe how she was feeling. There was just too many emotions whirling up inside her. She thought of herself stupid for allowing the situation in the first place.

‘So what is it that you have to tell me that can’t be said over the phone?’

He dropped his fork suddenly, as if startled. She guessed her voice had come out a little too harsh.

He stared at her.

She watched him. She could have sworn his eyes were growing watery.

Did he loose someone? She tried hard to make sure her face was soft enough.

He was taking so long to speak.

‘Alex? Are you okay?’ she asked. They had promised to refer to each other by their English names on the phone— he would call her Grace and she would call him Alex.

He blinked but not a word still.

‘Alex?’ She prayed his lips doesn’t burst open and he would begin to wail.

But he didn’t. He pushed his chair back and stood. He walked across the table and took her hand. He guided her up and took
her other hand so that they now faced each other.

Her mind went blank.

‘I love you, Grace.’

She jerked her hands away from him in reflex. ‘Alex, what are you saying?’

‘Ever since that day at the garden, I’ve been in love with you.’

‘What are you talking about? Which garden?’

‘GV. Palm Estate.’

Her eyes went narrow. She was at GV Gardens two years ago or so. With Ireti. It was their usual hang-out place.

‘Alex, the last time I was at GV Gardens was two or so years ago, so what are you saying?’

‘Yes. May 12. You wore a purple gown.’

Her eyes ran wide.

‘You were there with my brother. I came to drop his dry cleaning. You called me the dark version of Lynx.’

Awareness hit her. ‘Yes, yes. You were the young graduate that was supposed to travel to London the next day for a
training.’

He smiled. ‘Yes.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out his glasses. He wore it. ‘Remember me now?’ He touched his
shaved head. ‘The hair is gone—I took your advice and got rid of it, but this is how I looked that day. Remember?’

She smiled. ‘You were so young then. And it was just two years, how come—’

He chuckled. ‘I was never that young. Dapo was only two years older than me.’

‘Dapo?’

‘My brother.’

‘Oh. He told me his name was Ireti.’

His face dulled. ‘He did?’

‘Yes. Your brother is a crook.’

He quickly took her hand. ‘Forget my brother. I learnt everything but I’m here for you now.’ He leaned forward and pressed
his lips to hers.

The act was over before she could pull off a protest.

Dan is back,following

Im |0ving ur story.... Ride 0n dear

Grabbing a chair and joining, the village gal was wonderfulling. Riding on Mr. Dan

*walks in with her 4litres of zobo drink, meatpie and chi-chi;greets everyone that is present "sunnu knu" and grabs a chair at the back and makes herself comforfable*
oga danwrites, i dey hail o!

THREE

She had rehearsed her lines well. Once she entered she was going recite them all and leave immediately.

'I'm so sorry, Alex, but this won't work.'
'You see, I had a very horrible experience with your brother and I'm not ready to go down that lane again.'

Of course she knew he will put up persuasion but she would be gone before he'd even start.

She had it all well planned.

She picked the phone and dialed his number. She told him she was on her way and he said ok.
She saw No. 12 and slowed the car. She waved at a lanky young man standing in front of a provisions' kiosk. The tall boy raised a finger to mean ‘just a minute.’

She watched him dip his hand into his pocket and pay the store owner, a heavily-built middle-aged lady with the mean face of women who are experienced in beating their husbands.

The boy had leaned over to listen to her when the store owner called out. ‘Oga! This money wey gimme no good o.’

‘Madam I no get another one o.’ He turned back to Grace. ‘Ehe, Madam, ema binu, continue.’

‘Is this Iseyin Street? I’m looking for—’

Someone pulled the man from behind. Grace’s eyes ran up and she saw it was the fat store owner.

‘Take your torn money.’ She threw the note at him. ‘Pay me or give me back my detergent.’ Her Yoruba accent was thick. Grace understood little of Yoruba but she picked nothing from what the woman said.

The tall boy put the green sachet of detergent into his pocket. ‘Madam, I no get another fifty-naira. If I get I go give—’

He hadn’t finished when the woman grabbed him. ‘Give me back my A-li-al. I no sell again.’

‘Madam, take.’ Grace extended a clean N200 note to the woman. ‘Please leave him.’

The woman gave the man one last glare before releasing him. But it was the tall boy that got to the money first. He gave it to the woman. ‘Oya bring change.’

The woman scowled at him. She took the money and opened the purse hanging round her waist. She gave him N150.

The boy returned the change to Grace. ‘Thank you, ma.’

‘You can keep that,’ Grace said.

‘Ma?’

‘You can keep it. Please tell me how to get to No. 34.’

‘Thank you, ma. Eshe.’

Grace smiled.

‘No. 34, you said?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay. Just follow me.’

Grace wanted to tell him to just show her the direction but the boy has walked off. She started the engine and followed him slowly.
The boy showed her No. 34 and helped her park the car. The street was narrow and lined at both sides with cars, some of them so dusty one needn’t think twice to know that they hadn’t been moved in years.

She stepped down and slammed the door shut. She saw her reflection in the car window glass and suddenly felt the urge to use a mirror.
She wasn’t one of those women that owned a mini make-up house at home. She only had the few very-needed ones. The second man she dated had said his reason for breaking up with her was because she didn’t take care of herself as a woman should.

After the ordeal, she spent a portion of her school fees on make-up items but she dumped them aside only after some weeks. She has once said to a girlfriend that covering her face in make-up after a bath made her feel dirty.

God’s blessing abound, she has smooth dark skin. She only wished she was taller and her nose longer.

She ran her hand down her hair and clutched her purse in her front. In her fitted, blue gown she looked every inch what she is. A thirty-two year old working class woman.

She passed the gate and headed toward the stairs. The house was considerably neat and from the cluster of big generators she’d seen at a corner of the compound, she’d reasoned it wasn’t a place so many could afford to live in.

It might as well have been the most expensive house on the street.

She got to the second floor and saw the door at once. It was just as he’d described it for him. She put back her phone which she had brought out to call him inside her bag.

She dithered a second before knocking.

She inhaled deeply and knocked. She looked around, there was no bell box.

She knocked again.

She has raised her hand to knock again when she heard the sound of unbolting. The door moved inwards to reveal a happy young man.
He revealed so many teeth while smiling and strangely, she found it attractive. He was wearing his glasses and a black stay-at-home shirt with white shorts.

Either he had large thighs or the shorts were too tight. Either way Grace wouldn’t want to look down at him again. Looking up at his muscular arms, square shoulders and well-cut lips wasn’t that easy either.

‘Please sit,’ he said.

‘Actually, I’ve not come to sit.’

Something leapt off his eyes.

She was not happy that her statement had taken away so much light from his face.

He stared at her. ‘What’s the matter? We had a deal, didn’t we? We were supposed to spend time together.’

She quietly dropped her purse on the couch. It was black, bound with loose shiny stones that sparkled in the dull blue light of the room.

She joined her two hands together, in her mind, searching for the perfect way to start.

He watched her with near pleading eyes.

‘Alex, this will not work.’

His lips came apart.

‘I mean I like you, really, but you are…you are…I’m 32.’ She moved her hand through the air in disorganized demonstration. ‘You are only 27. I…’ She looked at his face and the words sank further back.

She didn’t even know why she was talking about age now. Though she had thought about it during her deliberation but the decision was to base all reason on her past relationship with his elder brother.

He inhaled audibly. ‘So the issue now is my age?’

‘No, not just your age. You are younger than I am and your brother and I didn’t…Alex just…’ With over 10-years’ experience in communications
she never knew that she would one day find speech so taxing.

‘Alex, please, you have to—’

He threw his arms around her and enclosed her. She was startled.

‘Please,’ he said. ‘Please say that to me. Don’t leave me.’

He smelt chokingly of masculinity. He must have used one of those perfumes made by combining scents with marijuana.

She tried to pull herself out but he held on, tight enough to make sure she doesn’t slip away yet loose enough to ensure she was comfortable
and getting air.

He made a sniffling sound and she wondered if he was crying. ‘Please stay with me,’ he said. ‘Tell me that you will stay.’

‘Alex.’

‘Please, Grace. Please. This is more than you can ever imagine. Please.’

She was curious.

He moved his hand and held her face up so that their eyes met and held. His eyes appeared cloudy.

She was able to perceive the intensity of whatever it was he felt for her in his eyes.

Slowly he lowered his face to hers and planted his lips between hers.

She hesitated but he was sweet. Everything about him.

In a moment they were kissing. He pulled her close and secured her to himself.

She felt loose, feathery. Sucking sounds of affection filled the air.

Slowly her subconscious felt him rising. She needed not see it to know how blessed he was. He was Ireti, Dapo’s brother, after all.

Hot emotions whirled inside her.

Mechanically he drew her this way and that till they landed on the couch. He released her lips and held his shirt. As he pulled it off, she wished
he hadn’t, that she had stopped him.

She became helpless.

The chest concealed under that shirt all the while was the perfect-built chest of magazine models. She ran her fingers down the hard lumps on
his belly. He let her.

A great feeling of ownership sprang up inside her.

He lowered down to her, kissed her lips for a while and then her neck, her ears. Anything he did made her shiver.

With chivalrous gentleness, he slipped one arm of her gown down and then the other.

She helped him unstrap her bra and her breasts came to view. They were of adequate size and strength so she had no reason to panic.

In her mind, she has decided go through with it to the end.

It was something close to that feeling of courage you have when standing in front of a big lump of delicious chocolate and you decide to eat it
all and savor the sweetness and worry about the calories later.

Oga Danwrites following o. How u dey?

anasbeaut:
Oga Danwrites following o. How u dey?

I'm okay, Anasbeaut. You?

Carry on Danwrite!!! Grace falling 4 lreti's younger brother!!!

Yaaaay! Danwrites is back. I actually thought we were going to continue with the village girl but this one also is a good compensation. Following bumper to bumper.

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With u all the way.
danwrite u rock!!