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Stats: 2,487,098 members, 5,636,375 topics. Date: Wednesday, 03 June 2020 at 01:36 PM
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by Lorayne(m): 7:24pm On May 15|
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by imightnotexist: 2:05am On May 18|
A small part of me was still a bit surprised. I literally just met this man and a few minutes of disinterested conversation landed me in his super comfortable SUV. The wide lane express ways didn’t give me the opportunity to immerse to capture the environment. I decided to just sit still and look forward to my date for the evening. “errm… where are we going?” I asked the driver in an extremely innocent voice. The man seemed to be very keen on minding his own business. It was a whole different experience compared to taxi drivers. “Castle Grande Hotel close to National assembly complex” he went silent immediately after. My mind didn’t wander around as usual, I just waited silently for the grand destination. The hotel parking lot was filled to maximum capacity with cars ranging from exotic SUVs to visibly dented saloon cars. After parking the car, still facing forward like a man under orders, the driver spoke. “Oga has already informed the reception, he is waiting in the lobby” I drew two conclusions from the short trip with the overly robotic driver. He had probably been in the service of Oloye for a very long time. Being in his service for a very long time, the old man had probably grown a thick skin to the vices of the potbellied pervert. Also, he was probably just not a people person, which was rather strange. Most domestic workers always had a social, although annoying aspect to their personalities. Soliciting for bribes and kickbacks was a sure way to beef up income, and being quiet and cold sure as hell didn’t help.
The hotel concierge and front desk staff were quite courteous. As soon as I introduced myself as Angela, and mentioned Oloye Akanbi, I was accompanied straight away to the front porch lobby where I met Oloye relaxing with a bottle of whiskey. He smiled immediately he saw me, jiggling quietly on the poor wooden chair that had to support all that weight. I returned the smile with a fake quick grin, I had no mental tricks in play yet. As much as all men had very similar need for sex and ego boosting, there was a nuance to every client. Was he a committed husband looking for a little thrill outside marriage? Was he more of an “old soldier never dies” type? Would there be any point in establishing some form of long term relationship? I pondered all these questions as I took my seat beside him. “Angelaaaaa… how is Abuja treating you” he asked while pouring a drink for me in a second empty glass.
I didn’t know when or how it fell out of my mouth. “You want to get me drunk sharp sharp hmmm” Suddenly he was taken aback. A little guilt showed up in his eyes, then he immediately hid it with a smile. “Drunk ke? I know you small small girls of nowadays can finish one crate and still dance kukere” His smile had turned into a chuckle and he stopped pouring into the glass. This had given me just about enough hint to profile this old bastard. I was in the category of the many small small girls he had slet with, and considered himself to be the big daddy of the situation. It was practically hard to keep men like this as long term clients of any sort, they were always looking for the next fresh meat. The game was now set clear and simple for me. One time, and take what I could where possible. “Noooo, I don’t even drink that much Oloye” It was the first time I was going to use his name in conversation. I smile and clenched my hands together, displaying an obvious naivety. There was momentary silence between us as I sipped the whiskey gently. Both of us knew how we wanted the night to end. Neither of us were at the Castle Grande to make acquaintance or discuss business. But it was typical to allow the man to lead to the moment especially if the transaction wasn’t pre decided. I hated nonverbal contracts like these.
“Oloye I’m hungry. I’ve not eaten anything since the flight” I said as the silence still lingered on between the both of us. His eyes seemed to brighten up with my request. Finally, an opening for him I guess. “Why didn’t you say so, my dear. Let’s go the restaurant, abi will you order room service, let us go to my suite” I didn’t want to make things longer than they already were. I opted for the room service option. The walk to the elevator seemed like forever as he took to interrogating me. “So, what are you doing in Abuja?” His steps seemed very slow as he had to pull all that weight on these poor feet. My business in Abuja was clearly none of his business, but I still had to answer nonetheless. Lying wasn’t so hard. It wasn’t like he was going to stick around for much longer. “I came to see my project supervisor for my part-time masters at Uni-Abuja” The school lie was the easiest. Portraying myself as a student was a good status booster. I had a professor client once, who rambled on and on about some research he was doing. His research would always be my alibi if anyone pressed too hard as regards my fake education.
“Aaah, Masters Student leleyi ooh. That’s good. What course?” I desperately prayed that the questioning should stop. “Marketing” I replied. I chuckled to myself after the reply. I was a marketer already. But I was marketing my own body! “My project is on the research on the loan viability for small and medium enterprise in rural areas” I quoted the old professor client verbatim. This was sure to shut him up as Oloye didn’t really seem like one who was very interested in matters of the brain.
“Efiwe la gbe oooh. Book is in this one’s head” He laughed. He certainly wasn’t pushing the discussion any further. At long last we were in the elevator. It was the two of us, and the numerous reflection from the mirrored walls. “Don’t worry, Project money is available” Oloye said reassuringly. I breathed a sigh of relief. I wouldn’t have to ask for my payment when I was ready to live.
I caught a glimpse of a few dollar notes sticking out of the bed side drawer as we entered the room. I had clearly underestimated this fat old man. It also awoke some of my kleptomania. If there were more bundles in the drawer, then he clearly wouldn’t know if a few went missing. The beds creaked as he landed on it with a heavy thud. The sky was completely dark as the view from the large windows peered into the city skyline. I quickly found my place on his laps. The smile on his face was starting to grow permanent. Thus began what I had come to refer to as the “Hot manifesto” it was the ramblings men gave right before sex. Some of them would go on and on about their sexual prowess, and others like Oloye would make promise after promise, hoping for a commensurate sexual experience. He spread his arms around me and continued rambling. I couldn’t recall most of what he said, but he did promise to compensate me very well. Seeing no end to the talk I offered the we have some more wine from the bottle across on the desk.
He pulled off his shirt leaving just his white singlet to support his pot belly. I instinctively just took off my shirt also. My firm breast struggled to peek out of my bra. Oloye still stood backing me as filled up the two glasses on the porcelain tray. He jerked backwards in surprise as he saw that I too had taken off my shirt. He turned back and dropped the two filled glasses back on the table. I guess he wanted to waste no further time and get on with the action. I assumed my position on the bed as I flung my denim shorts aside. Oloye quickly pulled off his pants, and in the twinkle of an eye, he was inserting a condom on his barely erect penis. The first round of action didn’t last too long. He was sweating even under the chilling hotel central ventilation. I hadn’t even lifted a finger. I guess he wanted to be a man and just pound away with his rather oversize waist. he lay on the bed trying to catch his breath as I stared at the ceiling completely naked.
As soon as he tried making a move for another round. I tried excusing myself to the bathroom to take a shower. I was thinking about slipping some sedative into his drink. I certainly had to do away with some goodies for myself. As I strapped myself with a white towel hanging on the bed side chair, I noticed Oloye popping some pills. I look surprisingly at his face “ermmm… what the hell is that?” He smiled, shaking his head in amusement. He stopped as soon as he realized the apparent anger on my face. I knew what the hell it was but I needed him to say it. “my dear, you know I have to perform. This one will give me strength Gidigba!” I turned immediately to the bathroom. I didn’t like sexual enhancement drugs. Asides the annoyingly prolonged sex, there were too many grim tales of old men dying while with prostitutes. I sure as hell didn’t want to grace the front pages of sensational blogs.
I took my purse with me to the bathroom, and brought out the vial of sedative I had stashed in side. This would sure as hell put him to sleep very quickly. The only problem was how to put it in now. There was no way he wouldn’t see me slip it into his drink. I had to send him out of the room somehow. An idea quickly hit me. I really was the master at evil schemes. As I stepped out of the bathroom, I quickly reminded him to go flush the used condom down the toilet as it irritated me very much. I squinted and shrieked from fake disgust as he rushed into the bathroom to get rid of the condom. I immediately poured the sedative into one of the glasses. I immediately started sipping the other glass as I let my towel drop to resume my unclothedness. As soon as he emerged from the bathroom, I handed him the second bottle with my left hand. I didn’t expect any protests as he simply gawked at my nude exterior and began gulping the drink quickly. I dragged him to bed to resume a second round, and barely a few minutes later, he was sound asleep. My sights were set on the drawer stashed with cash. I drew out a few dollar bills for myself as I neatly arranged the remaining stash.
Blessed is the considerate thief, for he shall draw no suspicion.
I took a few more notes and stashed them neatly into my purse. The room was quite scanty, so taking any physical possession would raise too much suspicion. I finally settled down to sleep, as I really needed it after a long flight and a long day. A call from an unknown number woke me up as I caught a glimpse of Oloye who was coming out of the shower after what seemed to be a hot bath. The steam oozed out of his dark skin. He immediately handed me a bundle of naira notes. I smiled and said my thank you, and was ever happier that I had taken my own share the night before. I wore my clothes, rinsed my face in the bathroom and was ready to bid Oloye goodbye once and for all. I clutched on to my purse and dashed out the door. I realized that I needed a ride back to Amaka’s as I wasn’t privy to Oloye’s driver for a return trip. As I thought of Amaka’s place I saw her at the hotel lobby. She was as visibly shocked to see me as I was to see her. What the hell was she doing here? What rooster and bull story would I have to cook up quickly? As I approached her my mind went over a thousand lies. Some laughable, others a little believable.
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by Ann2012(f): 7:05am On May 18|
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by M4pic: 11:39pm On May 19|
I've bn stalking for update now ��
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by imightnotexist: 12:14am On May 20|
M4pic:sorry for the delay.... trying to find some traction at work.... will steal some time in between to write some more
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by imightnotexist: 11:48pm On May 20|
“I came to see my sister”. Nah, that didn’t sound believable one bit. I wasn’t the touchy feely type and I stayed perfectly clear of all family issues. Saying I came to client wouldn’t have been all that but I felt like in a betrayer. I was in Abuja under the auspices of Amaka and I should’ve just mentioned it in passing that I was going to see clients of my own. Amaka also felt uncomfortable as I walked towards her. Maybe she was feeling guilty too for not informing me of her own escapade. Also this bitch god dam lied to me that she was going to back by nightfall. “Angieeee, ah ah, what are you doing here” A good morning or hi could have just sufficed. Why the Bleep would she expect me to give a honest answer in the open lobby of a highbrow hotel. I tried hard to hide the disappointment and disgust on my face. “I’m doing the same thing you came to do here” I fired back as I lifted my face in disapproval. Amaka seem shocked as she probably just expected a sarcastic answer from me. “This is the center for the party meeting this evening. I came to get the place ready” Amaka’s eyes turn bloodshot red. She stared at me, expecting a more dignified answer than what I had given.
“I just came to see an old friend” She got me good, and I felt really stupid. That was the downside of reading meanings into every word. Sometimes people just meant no harm. As I stood waiting for Amaka to finish her discussion with the hotel manager, I thought to myself. How did the hell did set up the hotel venue in an entire night? Wasn’t that the job of the hotel? “Amaka, what exactly did you come to do here, setting up event venue doesn’t take one night?” I asked as we walked back to her SUV. Amaka let out a little chuckle. This bitch won this round. I recognized the laughter, the laughter of victory. “The hotel is not the only thing that requires setting up you know?” Almost immediately she gave me that look again. The same look she gave me when talking about her new found spiritual powers The look that meant that she was miles above me in wit and wisdom.
The humiliation was much worse, but I let it slide. She could have this round. I now wanted this trip over as quick as possible. The Money from Oloye and the one I stole from him was enough financial compensation. The ride back to Amaka’s place was quiet as I stared outside the quickly disappearing buildings and trees. “So how much did you get?” Amaka broke the silence still staring straight ahead into the express way. “I don’t even know; I didn’t even count the money” Amaka immediately turned to me in total disbelief. “Na so toto scratch you reach, you nor even count money?” I laughed for a few seconds. I was back I guess. She turned a few more times to catch a few glances at my face. “I took some pepper for myself. Hard Currency!!!” I sat upright once more. The game in my head was even now.
“Na my luck dey shine on you sha…” Not long after we were packing at the small space in Amaka’s building. I dashed inside to take a shower. “Angelaaaaaaaaaaaaa” I heard Amaka scream from the bathroom. “Why did you smoke in the parlor and left the whole place smelling?” Her voice didn’t sound too serious so I carried on with my business. As I stepped out of the bathroom completely naked I met a circle of girls. Amaka, someone resembling Bose from yesterday and a new face. I forgot to take a towel to the bathroom, but I didn’t think it was much of a big deal. The figure that looked like Bose immediately turned to stare at me. It was definitely Bose as I could see her face now. She stood and began to walk towards me as she stared intently like she had just seen a ghost. I stood patiently waiting for the awkward situation to end. The water dripped slowly from my body as Bose inched towards me ever closer. In a swift moment of action Bose Immediately grabbed my breasts laughing. “How the Bleep are your breasts still firm and standing?” The whole room burst into laughter like it was some kind of inside joke. I stood there still confused as Bose stole a few more seconds to handle my breasts. “You’ve met Bose right?” Amaka asked pointing in her direction. That was the moment I finally knew her name. “And this is Clara” She continued while pointing to the new girl. The new girl had all the vibes of a working girl. It was almost like a sixth sense. If you spent enough time in the business it was easy to identify other women who were in the business also. She seemed like a new comer though. I grabbed a pink towel from my bag and retreated into the room to put some clothes on.
I laughed a little to myself as I forced the white shirt on. They couldn’t possibly be having a strategy session. There was no fucking strategy to the Ashawo business. You followed your gut feeling, and used your experience to land a big fish for the night. What the hell was there to plan. I joined them in the parlor to clear my doubts. “That man na complete gbef, just open mouth like goat after one round” the room burst into laughter after Amaka. It wasn’t a strategy session after all, just a little working girl previous night’s tale. I too my seat on the couch, feigning attention. I wondered if the other two girls had been given the offer of spiritual fortification by Amaka. Did she consider me a good friend? Or did she just consider me her equal in the game? Bose immediately took a seat beside me on the couch. It wasn’t clear to me up until that moment. This bitch was definitely attracted to me.
It was obvious. From the moment she grabbed the joint my mouth, and then handling my breasts at the slightest opportunity she. A few weeks ago I would probably have jumped on the opportunity. I was in Abuja for business, I wasn’t in the mood. It was as if my demons left me in Lagos. As Amaka stood to go into the kitchen to get some wine, I raced behind her. “What the hell is wrong with Bose?” I asked. I wasn’t looking for answers just a confirmation. “She’s BI” Amaka said as she squinted in discomfort. “Oh. cool” I said as I breathed a sigh of relief. I went straight into the bedroom as Amaka rejoined the group in the living room.
I must have slept for a few hours as Amaka woke me up to get dressed. “Whaaaa… get dressed? What’s the time?” I cleared my eyes and turned my eyes to check the wall clock. “Bleep! why didn’t you guys wake me up?” I made way for the bathroom to have my bath and rush through my beauty routine. “Relax, we still have time, just wanted to wake you up” Amaka said in a reassuring tone. As I made way for the bathroom in my white towel, Bose accosted me once more. “How about we look for a party gig tonight. Me, you, and some lucky old bastard” I manage to put on a fake smile and shoved her aside. She was starting to seem like the equivalent of a thirsty man. If Mariam was anything like this, I probably wouldn’t have slept with her.
“Thank God” I muttered as I met just Amaka in the bedroom, aimlessly swiping her phone. “Seriously, Amy, this Bose chick isn’t starting to irritate me” I said while dragging the G-string up my hips. “She’ll get tired, just ignore her.” “How far that pastor that month, una still dey roll. E be like say the guy don blow. Posters upandan” The question caught me by surprise. I knew better than to be truthful, this didn’t seem like a random question. “I’ve not see the old man since then. I Can’t be coming to Abuja to see one funny old man” I guess she was still pained from our meeting at the Castle Grande hotel. Did she think I was trailing her? It was a just freaking coincidence. “Hmm, Okay” I didn’t catch a glimpse of her face, but her voice said it all.
I picked an extremely short gown with a cut back and thin shoulder straps. My breasts struggled to peep out of the semi-gown. “We’ll be serving drinks tonight” I looked a little surprised as Amaka dropped the bombshell. “You know; you could’ve told me this waaaaaaaay earlier” I fired back in a n angry tone. “Look, we can’t just stand there doing nothing and wait for the meeting to finish. Those old bastards need an incentive to finish their meeting on time” I stood there in disbelief as Amaka strutted out of the room mumbling what seemed to be “If you don’t want to do it, then you’re free to not come” It was during times like this I missed James. You didn’t need to jump through hoops, just meet the client and get down to business. Why did that fool have to get embroiled in murder.
It was as clear as day that there was a bit of blood between Amaka and I. We marched to the SUV in silence as day turned to night in the capital city. I took the back seat much to the disbelief of Bose and Clara. Bose took the front while I was left to share the back seat with Clara. The ride to the hotel was short and smooth. I missed some of the Lagos traffic. It helped to bring some appreciation to the destination. Clara sad nothing throughout the journey. I liked her kind of girl, kept her mouth shut unless when spoken to. I guess Amaka was her madam, and was going to be taking a bit of her pay tonight. Bose and Clara quickly alighted from the car as soon as Amaka parked. Maybe they were used to the hotel as they didn’t need any direction. “Wait!” Amaka said as it was just both of us left in the car. “You may have squeezed your way out of the question this morning, but I’ll ask again” Her eyes looked fiercely at mine through the rear view mirror. “What were you doing at the hotel this morning?” I thought she was done after a momentary silence, but then she continued. “If you had just asked me where I was going, I would’ve just told you” Again, I thought it was over but she just continued. Her hand gestures became even more intense. “Are you jealous of me? is this what this all about? I tell you my secret and you think you can just sneak about like a little rat and dip your fingers in my food?” I tried to wrap my head around this outburst as I didn’t imagine this magnitude of bad blood between Amaka and I. The silence lengthened as I waited for more questions. “So, Amaka tell me. What the hell were you doing in the hotel this morning?”
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by M4pic: 6:05pm On May 22|
hot hot.. thanks for the update I wonder what will eventually happen between these two.. battle for supremacy
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by KelvinCoaster(m): 6:35pm On May 22|
More power to your elbow imightnotexist!
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by Ann2012(f): 7:35pm On May 22|
Thanks for the update
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by Kechbeau: 9:03pm On May 22|
pls keep on updating, I'm enjoying this story...
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by imightnotexist: 1:47am On May 23|
I resisted the urge to fire back angrily as Amaka railed on and on and gave her awkward intermediary pauses. I didn’t like saying that I was a prostitute. Worse, I didn’t like having to tell tales most especially to another working girl. Amaka folded her arms, and her face expressly begged for answers. I guess she was finally done with her rants. I paused for a little while trying to get my thought together. How the Bleep was I supposed to make this as short and as quick as possible. Aarrgh! Follow up questions! I especially hated follow up questions. “I came to meet a man I met on the flight. And like I said in the morning, I didn’t count my pay because I took some for myself.” The continued pause prompted more explanations from my part. “It was even his driver that dropped me, You can check my Uber history.. I didn’t even order any ride” I fiddled with my phone trying to open the ride hailing app. I shoved my phone screen in Amaka’s face to prove my innocence with the ride history. Her face relaxed a little. She stared at the phone screen for a short while and finally uttered the words I was waiting to hear since she began her rants. “it’s alright… I had no Idea. I gats to shine my eyes in this game” I managed to put on a smile as I agreed with her every word. It was quite the cringe sight to behold. Old Angela would have probably just walked away and said all the “Bleep you” in this world to Amaka. But I was changed, a lot mature I guess. With James out of the equation, my financial year stood on shaky grounds. I waited outside the car for Amaka as she fiddled with buttons and switches on the dashboard. One part of me wanted to go inside and meet up with the other girls. But I was off to a bad start and just decided to walk on eggshells for the remainder of the night.
We strutted inside the venue with me trailing right behind Amaka as she inspected the venue like some environmental inspector. I caught sight of Bose who was waving at us behind the open bar. Several men clothed in flowing native attires talked loudly as they engaged in boisterous camaraderie. There were a couple more girls that I had never met. I was pressed to ask Amaka where they came from but I just kept my questions to myself. It may have been a slip of tongue or the heat of the moment, but I was her biggest competitor. Made me wonder what all the spiritual hullabaloo was all for if she was going to feel threatened by me. I stared at the collection of wine and vodka in amazement. I had never been a bar woman before. I didn’t know how to mix drinks much less how to serve them.
Clara must have noticed my apparent bewilderment and spoke for the first time. “Don’t worry.. they will just order beer, red wine or plain vodka. Nothing out of the ordinary” Holy hell, her diction was as smooth as her voice. She sounded like a rich kid, way better than Mariam did. How the hell did she end up with Amaka? How were girls from better homes ending up here? Clara went on briefly about the appropriate glass and poured me a shot of whiskey as an example. The men were beginning to disperse from their roundtable discussion and soon enough one tall lanky grey bearded man occupied one of the bar stools. Bose swiftly took his drink orders. I watched intently at her moves as I wondered how the transaction would ensue. Would he explicitly ask her for the night? Would she have to dangle the offer explicitly – “Do you want to Bleep?” I stared intently at the both of them as she slowly poured a small glass or clear vodka.
“Is not by oversabi, the real men are still in the meeting. This one even looks like a PA” a voice whispered in my ears. A busty, light skinned girl was beside me. I turned over to catch a better glimpse of her face. she wore a look of disapproval. I twitched my head in confusion, as if waiting for extra explanation. “Don’t mind her, that she always use to do… bebe” Her voice didn’t sound as good as Clara’s and her command of English left we wishing we were conversing in pidgin instead. She did look my Mariam, although slightly beautiful. As I thought of Mariam again, I muttered a significant “Bleep”. Suddenly my standard for beauty had been eroded by thoughts of Mariam alone. The Bose-Hating Light skinned girl must have heard the “Bleep” and she nodded in agreement. Amaka get moving around as she joined the men at the round table at regular intervals. I still watched intently at the interaction between Bose and her catch for the night. At this point she had taken a seat on his laps and their conversation was now filled with giggles.
Bleep! I would have to basically kiss ass tonight. I preferred to use my womanly charms of seduction and emotional gameplays. I took another sip of the whiskey hoping to maybe get a little drunk and loosen up to become a giggle factory like Bose. I liked to think of myself as high functioning alcoholic as I was never too drunk to not be aware of my surrounding. Even the night I went home with the sniveling bastard Mike, I was well aware of everything that transpired. A few minutes later and Bose was off to one of the suites with her client for the night. And soon enough a couple of men were at the bar and almost every girl had a potential client. I turned around hoping to see Amaka. She was nowhere to be found. I was on my fourth shot of whiskey and was starting to feel drunk. Clara came back to me this time she wanted to speak in private drawing me away from the bar towards the second exit doors. “Hey Angela. The Senator I was trying to game said he wants the both of us. Are you down?” There was nothing to think about, I wasn’t getting too lucky for the night and it was starting to seem like everyone was leaving me behind. Amaka’s rants probably got to me. “Yeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaah” I said slowly trying to picture the night in my head. For all my years in the business I had never been in a party. Maybe I was selfish even with my clients. Nah! Maybe having another man right in the middle of an intimate session with another woman was just a mood killer for me. Being with a woman was my sexual escape. Clara gave me second look. Her face was patiently waiting for a reassurance. “Have you even been in a party before?” I asked in a sarcastic tone. “Yes” Clara answered swiftly still staring at my face waiting for the reassurance.
“sure. sure” I replied hoping to put Clara out of her misery. I stood there patiently waiting for her return. I was also relieved. She was definitely a pro, so I had nothing to worry about. Clara appeared out of nowhere a few minutes later. I trailed behind her quietly as we went up to the hotel room. I fit was an old man It was probably going to be over quickly. Suddenly I thought about an even bigger problem. Sleeping arrangement! If we were done, how were we supposed to pass the night. All three of us couldn’t possible sleep in the same bed till morning. I felt really pressed to voice my concerns but I just kept it all to myself. I didn’t want to piss anymore person that night.
The excitement in his eyes as he opened the door was a sight to behold. He continued smiling as we took a seat on the bed. This was probably his first time too in a party. I was anxious as I sat on the bed waiting. I wondered what the opening move was going to be. Soon enough he began taking off his clothes. It was probably time. Clara fiddled with her phone while I stared at the whole scene as it ensued. As he began to UnCloth, so did Clara. I guess It was also time for me to join the naked train. All three of us were now completely naked and I took my seat on the bed once more. Suddenly the old man, Senator Aliyu as I would later learn his name searched furiously for something in his suitcase. Clara relaxed completely on the bed trying to caress my shoulders with her left hands. Finally, he found what he was looking for. Sex Enhancing drugs! I couldn’t be too sure, but what other medicine would an old man need to take right before intercourse. He popped two pills swiftly and downed it with a bottle water laying on the bedside desk.
He looked at the both of us, trying to choose his first port of call. Not surprisingly he went with Clara. I was definitely the third wheel for the nights’ festivities. In a few minute it was perfectly clear that this Viagra powered old man didn’t know jack shit about threesomes. He was deep in embrace with Clara, missionary style leaving no room for me to join the action. It became clear to me. He probably just wanted to have sex with two different women the same night. It turned out to be as awkward as hell for me as the both of them went on. The moans and groans were cringeworthy and I was praying to be put out of my misery.
Humiliation was the best description for my feelings as the night went on. The last time I was in Abuja, Amaka was just a fellow hustling girl like me and the world was such a happy place. Now she ran the show and I was a fucking third wheel in an amateur party. He unmounted Clara and set his gaze on me beckoning for me to come over. Clara retired to the bathroom, and It was turned to get humped by a huge mass of Belly fat powered by Viagra. It didn’t take too long before he climaxed. I guess the drugs weren’t that powerful. Or maybe, just maybe that was the best he could go. He did seem very satisfied. He was definitely going to brag to this gang of perverts how he ravished two younglings in one night. Clara came out of the bathroom still wet from the shower. The old man seemed to get instantly aroused again, and he rushed straight to hi suitcase to pop more pills. The night wasn’t over just yet. I hadn’t even gotten into the shower yet and the moans had resumed. I stared at the mirror for a few minutes and the humiliation hit harder. This was beneath me. I just got a Big name pastor to get me my first car, and here I was struggling for play time in a poorly thought out party. I wondered where Amaka was. Maybe she was with the real moneybags and left us with the lesser men. I looked around for a towel. I didn’t want to come out dripping wet like Clara. I went back into the room to pick up the towel laying on the bed side desk. As I reached for the towel, I noticed Clara’s phone sitting horizontally on the bedside lamp with the camera facing outward. I grabbed the towel and headed straight for the bathroom. I turned back again as it looked rather suspicious. I tilted the phone over. The camera was on. Clara was filming the whole night. In a moment of fear and anger, I grabbed the phone and headed straight to the bathroom, tightly bolting the door behind me.
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by Ann2012(f): 9:35am On May 23|
Why was Clara recording the whole thing
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by Dybala11(m): 2:21pm On May 23|
Ann2012:It's obvious she has an ulterior motive, maybe blackmail.
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by Ann2012(f): 10:04pm On May 23|
That's true, or she wants to keep it as a souvenir
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by jey4all(m): 10:31am On May 24|
Best story so far
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by ogyunging(m): 1:17pm On May 24|
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by Dybala11(m): 3:01pm On May 24|
Ann2012:Considering their line of work, it's very unlikely she's doing that to get a souvenir. They became prostitutes because of money and having such a video is an avenue to make more money through blackmail, so I'm insisting that she made the video cos of her ulterior motive.
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by dimssy(m): 7:02pm On May 24|
I love your work.
I love the thought process you take the audience through.
This is not just interesting story but hey, a meaningful one to the extent to which the street can relate.
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by SeeAfrica(m): 11:41pm On May 24|
I really love your work;the dynamism,the grammatical constructs,the suspense and the production of your literary thoughts into paper work are exquisite.
The story line is not too filled with over-exaggerations of sex scenes -which would have made it trite.
You are really a good writer,very good writer.One of the best so far in Nairaland.
Just give the work more review so as to correct few errors present in it.Nonetheless,it is a master piece.
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by imightnotexist: 12:39am On May 25|
SeeAfrica:Thank you very much.. Hopefully I'll take time off work and sit down with grammarly for proper editing.
dimssy:Thanks. I'm very honored
ogyunging:Thank you so very much
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by imightnotexist: 12:39am On May 25|
I wasn’t really sure whether to scream or just flush myself down the toilet. Horror stories were starting to seem too real for me. From James to Mike and now this. What was next? High level blackmail? But I wasn’t rich enough to be blackmailed. I probably wouldn’t have minded having my nudes on the internet but this came as a shocker. I sat down on the toilet bowl for a few minutes pondering on my next move. If I left now, the whole situation would blow out of proportion and I didn’t know the temperament of the senator. But if I stayed in the bathroom too long, it would also arouse suspicion. Bleep! I hated all of this. The Fight with Amaka should have been a clear cut warning of the mighty disaster that this night turned out to be. I was in the gallery section and on the verge of tapping the delete button. Then I paused for a little while. If I deleted this, then I would have no shred of evidence. Maybe Amaka was even in on this. If she was, why the Bleep didn’t she tell me? I took a deep breath, and forwarded the video to myself and finally tapped the delete button. I snuck back in and gently placed the phone back in its position while the two lovebirds continued pounding.
I grabbed my clothes and went back into the bathroom. It was a hasty decision, but I was done for the night. This was the last straw for me. I quickly put my gown back on and ordered for a ride straight to the airport. I wasn’t thinking straight as I just wanted to disappear from the city. I still had the dollar bills I stole from Oloye and some money in my purse. Luckily for me, those two were still at it as I came outside. I opened the door, with my purse clutched to the other hand, and I was out. Maybe they didn’t see me go. Or maybe they just didn’t care but I was off.
I could feel my hands still shaking. I tried very hard to reassure myself that everything was okay and that this was little compared to everything I had been through. Betrayal was quite the mind fucker for me. Everyone was proving to be a worse animal than the last person. The driver was a relatively young man; in his early thirties I guess. “Good Morning” were the first and last words he spoke me. I sunk myself into the back set still shivering with fear and angst. Was this Amaka’s way of getting back at me? Why would she even need to get back at me? She was already a big shot. I stared at my phone continuously for minutes wondering if I should at least play the video. Like most of my past memories, I just wanted to leave it unseen. The airport was relatively quiet and cold. I felt the chill deep within my bones. It was the first time since I landed Abuja that I truly felt the cold breeze. Maybe it was the fear and commotion increasing my other senses. The last minute ticket to Lagos was almost triple the price, but I paid anyway. Anything to get me out of this den of Judases.
Throughout the flight my mind kept going over a thousand scenarios. I thought about my suitcase I left at Amaka’s apartment. I wondered if she would be able to use my clothes for some Juju spells like they did in the movies. Maybe this was the final sign that I needed a break or needed to get out of the game. This was just a bit too much to bear. I thought again about all the previous times with Amaka. We weren’t the best of buddies, but things always worked out the way they were meant to be. I remembered the retreat where I met pastor Effiong. It was also an impromptu call like this one. A certain guy was in charge of organizing the girls, and they were a few girls short. I took the next available bus to Abuja. Things were a lot less hostile then as we spent the days before the event scheming and planning to make the most out of it. Amaka would regale me with tales of the many fake rich men of Abuja and how one had to be very careful in spotting them. It was a simple relationship of two working girls hustling together.
That Night I had a really hard time landing a client for the night as I wasn’t too familiar with the political arena. Heck, I still am not familiar with that space, and I think I’ll never be. I saw Effiong sitting in a corner of the room, and decided to for the low hanging fruit on Amaka’s advice. Turned out to be one of the best moves that Night as He became a long term client. Why couldn’t things just have remained that way. I sighed heavily and stared again at the phone. I felt a little guilty for suggesting blackmail to James. I guess you never know how it feels till it happens to you.
The Lagos Airport was a lot busier as people filled the waiting area. I didn’t have any luggage, so I headed straight for the exit. I decided to take one of the airport taxis instead of an Uber. I put my phone on silent and closed my eyes, slowly relaxing into the back seat. I needed an escape, and not even marijuana was going to cut it this time. I wasn’t sure if I had any MDMA pills left. I needed to not exist at this point in my life. I still wondered what the issue was exactly. I was a prostitute. My nudes being leaked online wasn’t going to any damage to my nonexistent reputation. I guess I was back to my concealed feeling of hate and shame over what I was. Only I reserved the right to tell myself what I was. The world, and the people in it had no right to tell me that I was a prostitute. The world treated me unfairly and didn’t have the God damn right to judge me. The traffic was relatively light and I raised my head to peer at the sheer amount of cars on the road that early.
My thought came back to what my present realities held for me. Only old clients were my hope for the future. I wasn’t too big on the social media craze, and thought it was too late to begin shaking my ass on Instagram for a few low life thirsty men. I wasn’t sure how pimps operated in Lagos as James was the only I ever had. And now my political space had been ruined by Amaka. I felt like the dumbest prostitute in the history of civilization. I had hustled so hard, only to end up here. Trying to run away from my problems and being too afraid to head back into the game and slug it out with other girls. I picked up my phone again. The call I dreaded was already in. Amaka had left me three missed calls. I could feel my heart racing again. Even though I was clearly the victim here, somehow I still felt fear. Our conversation in the car had drilled fear into me. In that heated moment, she somehow managed to establish dominance over me.
I was finally back at my apartment building. Empty handed and soaked in misplaced fear. Yohanna the security guard could see the anger and shame in my face and didn’t even bother with his antics. Then it hit me, my key was in my suitcase. Damn it! I turned back to meet Yohanna to help me bust the lock. It was very clear he had something to tell me and was trying to guess the mood right. “errmmmm Anty” he stuttered while we went to my apartment door with his toolbox. I hoped it just wasn’t more bad news to ruin my evening. “What?” I asked while turning to him with a sullen look on my face. “Those police people been come again oh. Dem talk say them been wan tell you say dem don arrest the suspect” I nodded my head wondering if this was good news or bad news. James was probably bleeped for life. Innocent people get completely screwed by the Justice system everyday how much more an already guilty man. But I guess the news was somehow refreshing. Maybe the nightmares about James would finally stop haunting me as he cooled his heels in police custody. The breaking of the lock was extremely swift. Just one strike of the hammer on the well placed chisel and the door creaked open. Yohanna silently went back downstairs. It was rather unusual of him. On a normal day he would have descended into an irritable begging dance. I guess for once in his life, he read the mood correctly.
I checked my phone again. Amaka had given me five more missed calls. Another number had called me. I guess it was Clara. I didn’t have the courage to face any of them. Maybe if I tripped on a little MDMA I would have the balls to make sense of this whole situation. I opened the drawer and couldn’t fine the tablets. No! this wasn’t supposed to be happening right now. I suddenly began sweating and my heart pounding. MDMA wasn’t addictive, or was I wrong. Maybe I packed it into my suitcase. I ripped the drawer from my bedside desk, emptying the contents on the floor. I scampered through the stash like a mad dog searching for food. “No.. No… No” were the words that flowed out of my mouth as I turned the bedroom upside down. It got worse. I could feel my head pounding. My hands shook eve more violently.
In a fit of rage, I smashed my head onto the table top. The slight concussion had a calming effect on me. My eyes cleared a little, and I could see the MDMA packet lying gentle on the table top. How the hell could I have missed it. I tore several pills open and swallowed one after the other, throwing caution to the wind. I lay still on the floor right in the middle of the trash I just made. I felt the calm slowly take over my entire being. The trip wasn’t like all the ones I had. I had completely blacked out as I was engulfed in a stream of consciousness beyond my comprehension.
I woke up a few hours later. I guess I must have drifted to sleep from there on out. The headache was blinding. It became worse as I stood up. I touched me head and I felt it. Blood. I guess it was after I banged my head on the table. I grabbed my phone again. This time Amaka had left me voice notes. I got a few other calls I didn’t bother to check. I finally was in the mood to entertain whatever hullabaloo Amaka was going to be selling to me. I played the voice note finally. “Babe where you dey. Are you still alive? Call me when you get this message.” I was thoroughly confused at this point. Maybe nobody knew what had truly transpired. Or was this just a ploy to get me thinking that everything was alright?
This ends, and this ends now, I loudly proclaimed to myself. I dialed Amaka’s number as my heart began racing again. “Angela! thank God you’re still alive ooh.” I paused for a little while then I spoked “Did Clara tell you anything?” I could hear Amaka sigh heavily over the phone. It seems the Jig was up, I braced myself for what was I going to hear next,
3 Likes 1 Share
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by Kechbeau: 8:43am On May 25|
thank you for the update...nice one... can't wait to find out what amaka will tell her
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by jey4all(m): 9:05am On May 25|
Nice update. Is there anywhere we can get the complete story
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by KelvinCoaster(m): 4:44pm On May 25|
This story is superlative!The story line is circumambulative! More power to your elbow. imightnotexist come and update!
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by lionshare: 11:20pm On May 25|
Interesting. Seems you are dwelling in the moment compared to the usual 3-scenes. Following keenly, like the era of watching Super story over a decade ago.
I do not want to comment on the plot so as not to influence your thoughts but if only she had stayed back...
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by Nancy225: 12:09am On May 26|
I love this story
1 Like 1 Share
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by Mario1983(m): 9:08pm On May 26|
lovely story got me hooked
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by Remite011(m): 7:30pm On May 27|
staying glued to my phone has been my hobby since I started following dis story, abeg keep em rolling
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by Kechbeau: 7:47pm On May 27|
please update ohhh
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by imightnotexist: 1:20am On May 28|
Sorry guys... Will squeeze time out of work for more updates
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by REALretep(m): 10:46pm On May 28|
This is a masterpiece.
The title though doesn't befit such a classical work
|Re: Sex Work Is Work (18+) by KelvinCoaster(m): 6:22pm On May 29|
REALretep:You are in the spirit.
I made some suggestions on the change of title earlier!
This story line is morethan just a 'Sex work is work'.
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