₦airaland Forum

Are you creative?
Does your sense of imagination
go beyond the ordinary?
Do you have spice?
Can you weave words to create attention?

AND
Work well with instructions and do well with criticism and corrections?


Okay. Then contact me right now by sending a few two hundred word story on "Accidental Discharge'

Email is: bunmilolayo@gmail.com

Pay is relatively good too

Abeokuta

Title: No Love Lust
Genre: Dramatic Romance


Lillian And Bunmi had one thing in common, they lost their belief in the existence of love. To them, every love story was a sham. Then came a petty-thief with the bluest eyes Bunmi had ever seen and Lillian got more than she bargained for in the hands of a little boy and his cute dad.

https://okadabooks.com/book/about/no_love_lust/11919


Title: Beautiful Colors of Sin
Genre: Drama

Life went quickly by for Alice and her brother but the tide turned and her journey sent her to meet Sandra who steered her course into other waters. They met other girls along the way; some came with good-luck charms while others were not so good. But the story of HiV turned Alice into a mother-hen over her brother who was bent on making a dying girl, his own rabbit's foot. How do these girls keep a life they had lived from interfering with the new life they desire?

https://okadabooks.com/book/about/beautiful_colors_of_sin/13216

Chapter 1
Passion Triangle

The room had series of smell in the air when you enter: there were jasmine, rose and musk. There were clothes on the floor and a pointy shoe laid on the sofa like it was a forgotten item. It was warm but also chilly in the room. You would think nothing of this room and its seemingly bare walls until you let your glance move away from the dull walls to the redness of the bedding.
It was red satin, and it wasn’t the only noticeable thing on the bed.

There were two bodies, one with sensuous curves and the other had toned muscles. Long velvety legs were entwined with muscles thighs with fine black hair. Excited arms were folded into each other with passion and submission. The passion running through their veins showed itself in the sounds that were coming from their guts.

Even Natasha Bedingfield bore her hearts out through the speakers of the disc player on the chest of drawers at the far end of the room. She seemed not to have that much impact on these entwined souls.

The dim lighting of the room caused shadows to lay themselves on the bare walls. It was such an enchanting dimness caused by the candles in the candelabras that emitted jasmine into the air.

“Oh baby, did I tell you how good you smell?” the muscled-one asked as he sniffed the rose-smelling sweat of the curvy one.

“Hmmm…yeah, I remember a few grunts a while ago. But shut up and don’t ruin the moment.”

“Oh my gosh,” she went as she twisted her waist and grabbed his shoulder with assured grasps.

“Oh yea, like that huh? You like that, baby?” he asked as he raised his waist to intensify her arousal.

He wondered if it was right for her to be on top but the feel of her skin on his felt so good that he wished things were going to end differently that night. He stared at her as her eyes rolled up in sexual satisfaction. Her pale skin gleaned with sweat as her wavy hair stuck snugly to her neck. Her round firm breasts were pointing at him with nipples in erect position. He felt so good inside of him that he wished he would move things around for her, if only he could.

He made her burn inside with such great passion that he had never had in a very long while. He had had many in his past but this was beginning to feel like a whole new experience for him and he wished for many more to come, if only wishes were like horses.

He turned her at that moment and she squirmed under him, they both let out a knowing sigh. She knew it was about to happen and something inside her froze. Her brain went into a ‘not now, yes now’ mode but her body was too hot to care at that moment. She wanted him, it had to be him. It was a space that she had yearned for and it was time, no going back. All other sentiments were to be left where her common senses couldn’t reach.

“Be gentle, “she pleaded as he twisted. He kissed her and whispered incoherent words caused by he heightened state of his loin. Soon they were lost, maybe écsatcee made a rubbery invention for situations like that but the duo were too far into it to care or remember. There were sweet pains, guilty pleasures awaiting them. And then there was also redness, a memory left on the already colourful sheet.

“Oh, oh, it hurts but it doesn’t,” she moaned amidst jabs of little pain.

“I am sorry…hmm… should I stop. I can stop. Oh I want to stop but I can’t seem to do it, baby,” he replied as he slowed down his thrusts. He loaded himself inside her; a sticky awareness that said what was hers was no longer hers.

“Oh my gosh!”

“I am sorry, baby,” he said as he ran his fingers over her firm butt.

“I’m okay. I just want to take a few seconds,” she replied. It was lost and he had taken it or had she given it to him?

Tears gathered in her eyes but she fought it back as hard as she could, what was done was done. It was time for the hard part; all grieving will have to wait.
She lifted herself in her discomfort at the awkward position she was and he rolled off her. She stared at the ceiling for a little while, trying to find another emotion to replace the one she was starting to feel. Ten….twenty… and nothing came; she sighed and then got off the bed.

The bottle of champagne lay on the vanity chest and she turned to stare at him before opening the bottle. He jeered and stretched with contentment as he nodded in excitement at the coming goody. She turned her back at him as she poured the drinks, which she later took to him on the bed.

“Aren’t you going to clean yourself up,” he asked as he leaned on his elbows.

“I will but I just need to get this down there,” she said as she handed him his drink. She went back for the whole bottle. When she turned to return back to the bed, he had his usual smirk on his face. It was the smile of satisfaction and ego that had become a known part of him. She put the bottle beside the bed and then tucked her hair back into a bun with a rubber-band.

“Thanks baby. There isn’t a better time for a nice glass of bubbles,” he said jokingly.
He ran his hand through his spiky chest hair before collecting the drink from her. He then took a few sips and offered her a cigarette from a park that had miraculously appeared in his hand as if carefully tucked away nearby. She smiled deeply at him before taking the offered cigarette. He lit another one for himself as he gulped the whole glass, his eyes glued to hers. A pleasurable smile crept up her face and she patted his face before putting out the cigarette.

“What’s wrong, baby? Its red Marlboro,” he said as he poured himself another drink. She stretched her neck before bending down to rub off a trail of blood that was going down her thighs. She stared at it and finally dropped it into a corner of her bag that lay on the floor near the bed stand.

He watched her every move with a look of wonder and suspicion, he then lit the cigarette again and offered to hold it for her while she smoked. She smiled and collected the cigarette and walked towards the bathroom. After a backward glance at him as the cigarette made its way to her mouth, she closed the bathroom door after her.

In the bathroom, she dropped the lit cigarette by the wash-hand basin and got under the shower. The water felt good as it made its way down her body, cleaning every crevice and corner. She longed to stay under the trickle but she knew she had to go back to him. She sighed carefully and counted to twenty before getting out of the shower. And with the now half-burnt cigarette in her hand, she stepped out.

He still had his glass in his hand, by the look of the bottle; he had helped himself to more of the bubbly goodness. But his smile was gone; it was now replaced with the look of a man in discomfort. His hand was on his tummy as he made raspy sounds.

“How do you feel?” she asked as she leaned on the bathroom door, cigarette suspended in the air.

“It is nothing, baby. Guess that was a huge load I passed into you, huh?” he laughed as he shifted, his face giving off clear signs of discomfort.

“Are you sure you are okay?” she asked again, this time with a firmer voice. Why was he still talking? Had she done something wrong? Those were the questions going through her mind at that moment.

“Don’t worry about me. I don’t …” his eyes went round at that moment. He dropped the champagne glass in his hand and the content spilled on the bed. He grabbed his stomach with both his hands and let out a loud sigh. What he was feeling was familiar to him but the circumstances weren’t. No, she couldn’t have done it, he thought. There was no way she could have, his mind kept telling him.

She moved to sit on the bedside drawer and stared down at him. Then the evil hit him strongly. It started as a small cough and then it ended with raspy breath and choky feeling. He tossed and turned, throat on fire and fingers clutching at her toes as he rolled off the bed. It dawned on him then, that she had done what he thought she couldn’t.

“You…you…. Frigging bitch…” this was not always the last words of such a strong willed hunk of a guy, but passion wasn’t always what it portrays herself to be.

The lady watched as he struggled to get to her feet again but she knew it was the futile hope of a dying man. He wouldn’t hurt anyone again, she thought, and she loved seeing him in such a helpless state. But somehow, she still waited. She waited for the guilt to come sipping into her conscience but nothing came, she smiled to herself.

“I wouldn’t fight it if I were you. Lie down and let me stroke your crotch,” she jeered and kicked him off her feet. The blood flowed from the corner of his lips and he stopped moving but tried to lean on the side of the bed.

“You bitch! You are so dead… so you have it… in you... you LovePeddler,” he said as he gave her a stony smile.

“Baby, save your breath. Shouldn’t you be praying? But since you are not likely going to heaven, how about you let me give you a head,” she replied.

“I will… wait for… you over there,” he replied with teeth showing in its full redness.

She laughed out loud before quickly covering her mouth. She then smiled at him as he dropped the cigarette butt in a paper before folding it away and tucking it in her bag.

“I know when not to smoke, darling, especially when it’s been poisoned.”

“Bitch… you think… you are smart, huh? … you are just a ….cheap piece of garbage…” he said amidst bloody bouts of coughs.

She smiled as she blew a kiss in his direction and thanked him for the compliment. He laughed and winked at her as he curled into a tight ball. Minutes later, he wet very still.

She stood up and stared out of the window and looked into the sky. There were tears; passionate tears that couldn’t be kept in any longer. She had been strongly attached to him but love was a bitch and had a way of turning things around in a negative way. She picked up the glass-cups and the bottle. She then gathered her things and stood looking down at the body of the man she had once had strong feelings for.

Greater good, she thought, there was always a greater good that had to be done by someone and that person was her. She dressed up hurriedly and wiped out the room and everything she had touched. A last look at the room brought a sigh out of her and then a hiss as she walked out of the room.

The body of the man fell to the side and his bloody palm opened, a shiny red 4-stoned ring fell off his hand to roll under the chest of drawers. He managed to pick up his phone and dialled a number.

“Plea..se. come …. Now….the champagne…” But life was too much in a haste to leave so it just bade him goodbye and left.

Copyright by me

2017

No copycopy allowed unless I say so.

This is a romantic crime story sort-of

Enjoy

PROLOGUE

It is funny how men see women at times. They look at women and all they allow themselves to see would be the four corners of a bed and satin sheets. Lillian shook her head as she stared at the talking man across the table from her, all these Nigerian big-wigs with their kinky minds. He had pestered her into a lunch date. If it had been at a place other than this lovely restaurant, Lillian would have shunned him, she wouldn’t really have cared if that would have made her boss throw a fit, she was good at what she does, and her boss’ tantrums she could match pitch for pitch.

But this man wanted to play games, and Lillian was prepared to beat him at it, it had been weeks and he had refused to even look at the proposal Lillian had for his clothing line. Today was today she had decided as she dressed up for the date; and there they were.

“I am having such a good time.” I am sure you are, you egoistic prude.

“I am too, so as I was saying, we are willing to give you a full page in our September issue if you agree to our terms and I promise we will…”

“Do you eat Russian? I know a beautiful place we can go. Their menu is fabulous.” Oh God, what have I gotten myself into? Lillian sighed. She looked around and waved the waitress over. Okay, let’s play then, she threw him a smile.

“Are you ready to listen to my proposal or would you rather I leave it to Ricky?” Lillian asked as she asked the waitress for another glass of water. The man looked at her like she was talking blasphemy. Lillian knew the motive behind the invitation but the magazine needed new adverts from prospective clients like him and he had seemed like a good man. His clothing line, Flirxy, was a rave and it was the kind of business that Ricky had interest in.

When Ricky’s interest is pricked, Lillian always got a huge commission. Lillian had agreed to this lunch because Ricky had insisted that she should, and she needed a new car. She was the best at negotiations but the Naija grandpa was flaying her. She briefly bowed her head and said a silent swear word.

“Why did you say that?” the man asked acting like Lillian should have gotten the drift. Lillian smiled. He thought he was smart but, taking this lady on was a big mistake. Hers wasn’t just a street-smart syndrome. She had her experience from being the BFF of the toughest Nigerian girl in town.

“You know what; forget that I just said that. Let’s take a new lane,” she said as seductively as she could.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Fool, she hearted.

“I am usually right, you know. People say I am a good judge of character and I know the best positions to put people in, anytime and anywhere,” Lillian replied and sipped the last of her champagne in a very suggestive way. The look on the man’s face changed in an instant.

She was a diva at this game and he was already losing his handle on it. Lillian adjusted herself and ran her hand over her chest pretending to wipe something off. The man’s eyes dropped down from her face. He stared at Lillian’s chest for a while then the stare went up again, the smile now wider.

“I have a proposition,” he said. Lillian nodded. You should, I don’t do this for nothing. She smiled wetly at the gaping man. He was not hiding it anymore. He had it on his face that he wanted her; he wanted her so much that she could see hints of sweat appearing on his forehead.

“I am all ears to propositions,” Lillian replied and leaned on the table. The man swallowed and drank more champagne.

“You are a very lovely woman indeed. So, what if I sign the contract you want me to sign, no questions asked?” I wouldn’t be doing all this if I didn’t want that, mister, was Lillian’s thought.

“That would be lovely indeed. I promise to meet your every need.”

“I am sure you will. So, let’s make it tomorrow…”

“No. tomorrow will not do. I have to get your signature now or Ricky will kill me. He threatened to take me off and give me to Mr. Sonibare instead and let Lovelyn handle you,” she replied.

“Tufiakwa, that stupid Yoruba man,” the man said in his thick accent. He then stretched his hands towards her. She gave him the papers and in few minutes the deed was done. She dipped her hand into her bag and brought out a piece of paper.

“What is that?” the man asked.

“Do you know the hottest strip bar in town?” Lillian asked she leaned back on the table.

“What?!”

Lillian asked her question again. She started to talk about how wonderful the place was and how slim and cute the girls there were.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

Lillian ran her hand over his and smiled. She told him that “Hot Tomatoes” was not a joke. It would be the best thing he could ever do to himself to cool his raging loin. Her phone started to ring then. It was her boss; he wanted her back at the office. Lillian dropped the paper in front of the gaping man and stood up. The man stared. It was a pamphlet with pictures of sexy girls with tomatoes in their mouths and the inscription “Hot Tomatoes” written boldly across their blurred but naked chests.

“What now?” he asked, “Don’t do this!”

Lillian stood up and picked up her bag, she then bent and shook his hand warmly, “I will see you when I see you but before I do, be a good sport and ask for Velvet at the Hot Tomatoes. She will rock your world.”

She strode out before he could compose himself to say anything else. She had places to go. She had to get back to the office. She was supposed to meet her husband’s friend and she was running late. She hurried down the parking lot to her car thinking one down, two to go.

Business was good but scoring points as a hustling girl with insights into how the Naija man thinks, was even better.

*********faari******

All rights reserved.
Copyright @ 2016
I hold all rights to this work of fiction.
Not to be shared to selfish readers
Work in progess but steady.
Hope you like

FAARI 2016