Hiya! I'm Korede (Korayday) Azeez. I write flash fiction every now and then. I m looking to learn to become a better writer. Please let me know what you think of my story and I'll love to read yours too. Thanks for stopping by!

How he couldn’t wait to get home. It was Friday and every Friday his wife made a special treat, last week it was samosas, the week before it was pineapple crumble. He didn’t bother guessing what treat he would be enjoying this evening because he would only be tempted to drive faster and as it was he was already too close to the speed limit. Instead, he turned on the radio; “shut up and drive, drive, drive, drive…” It was Rihanna. Perfect.

Finally, he got home, he walked to the front door with long strides and a burst of energy. He opens the door and finds that the house is completely dark. Why weren’t the lights on though? The security lights outside the house were on. He peeked outside, they were still on.
“Honey.” He called out as he stepped in.
“Sweetheart?” Where on earth was she? The light switch was all the way across the room.
“Dami!” He yelled one more time; he quickly remembered he was exhausted. Carefully, with his free hand in front of him to guide him, he found his way to the nearest couch, dropping his briefcase as he sat. He let out a deep sigh and grabbing his phone from his pocket, he proceeded to call the gateman or whatever he was. He did the gardening, operated the generator, cleaned the compound, ran errands, and sometimes served as a driver, but he most certainly wasn’t a gate man since the gate was remote controlled.
“Beep, beep…crrrrk.” Crrrrk? That wasn’t his phone.

She had the gun to his head, she could end it now, just pull the trigger and blow the bastard’s brains off. She wondered if the bullet would go right through his head leaving a nice smoking hole, or maybe it would remain lodged somewhere in his big head, or maybe…just maybe it was one of those bullets that scattered in a man’s body. Heck, she knew nothing about guns without the exception of the one in her hand, she only knew how to load it, cock it, and shoot it. Deji had taught her that, it was his gun that she held, he had insisted they get one for protection. Now she would use the same gun for his obliteration; the irony.
“Crrrrk.” She cocked the revolver slowly.
She moved a few steps backward to the light switch as Deji slowly turned around and then jerked himself up as the light came on. The sudden light momentarily blinded him. As his eyes adjusted to the light and focused on his wife pointing a loaded gun to his head, he went from shocked to petrified, and from petrified to petrified but trying to look calm. He might have laughed if he didn’t see the look on Dami’s face, or if he thought she was joking; he knew his wife liked to make crazy jokes but she would never joke like this.
“Sit down Deji.” Her voice was steel.
“Dami wha-”
“Deji I said sit down!” This time she yelled.
Deji instantly took his seat and at the same time forced a lump back down his throat. Dami walked around the couch and went to sit on the edge of the coffee table, facing Deji. She held the gun in front of her, pointing downward.

“What is this about Dami?” Despite his fear, he managed to sound somewhat calm. She couldn’t be having one of her bouts again, could she? It had been so long since the last one.
“Let me tell you a story dear husband,” she said, looking at the gun in her hand.
“There was this young couple, they fell in love and got married; their life was perfect. But you know what…” She paused and stared hard into Deji’s eyes.
“The lonely mother-in-law decided she was better than her daughter, so she took her husband when her daughter was away.” Damilola stared at the gun in her hand for a few seconds though it seemed like forever to Deji. Then she sharply raised her face to Deji and yelled, “You got my mother pregnant you asshole!”
Deji was flabbergasted, he couldn’t believe what he had just heard; his wife had gone mad. He looked from Dami’s face to her protruding belly and back to her face, completely lost for words.
Dami continued, “How could I ever have guessed that my own mother and my hus-”
“Stop it Dami!” he was on his feet, fuming.
“How can you even suggest such a thing, you are just unbelievable! Who has told you such a disgusting lie…who?!”
Dami stared at him, expressionless for a while before she burst into a wild laughter.
“Damilola, you need help,” Deji said as her laughter died down. “I’ll call the doctor”. He quickly scanned the couch for his phone, spotted it and grabbed it. “Beep, beep…boom.”

Dami stared at her husband’s body, he sat propped by the couch behind him with his legs wide apart and his head thrown back, mouth wide open. She moved closer and looked at his face, she had shot him between the eyes. She wondered if the bullet had blown a hole clean through but she didn’t want to check, seeing all that blood was almost nauseating. Damilola dragged herself to her bedroom. When she got to the door she couldn’t help but stare at the dead pregnant woman that lay just a few feet from her. It was her mother that lay dead, dead by her own daughter’s bullet. The woman had come to Dami crying, and begging for forgiveness, saying that she couldn’t live with herself anymore knowing she was pregnant for her daughter’s husband. She said it happened the very night Dami left the country for Dubai. The traffic was stagnant on their way from the airport, so they were forced to spend the night in a guest house. They had to share one room because all the others had been taken. That was six months ago now. By the time Dami returned, her mother had left for America.

Wait a minute; was it her mother that had told her the story herself or was it the voices in her head. She glanced at her mother one more time but this time she was not pregnant. The only pregnant woman in the room was Dami.

Damilola sat on her bed, sweating profusely. She put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger. “Click.” “Click, click, click.” The barrel was empty. Just at that moment, mother nature decided to show Dami how much control she had over the defenseless human; she began to feel the first signs of labour creep up on her.

I'm new here too....still trying to figure it out. That your first story ehn...so disgusting and so on point! Couldn't stop reading...I'll be posting a few stories here too..Please check my profile. I'm still not sure how this thing works lol

**This piece is a copyrighted piece of work and the owner (koraydayazeez) will not hesitate to prosecute anyone found to reproduce this work in any form** That being said, please enjoy the story.


You never feel sexy enough for him. You think your thighs are too thick, your arms are too wobbly, your tummy is too flabby, your chin is too fatty and of course, there’s the hair. You have hair everywhere – your legs, your back, your arms, your tummy, your face. You’ve had something close to good sex only twice in the two years you’ve been married, every other time was either awkward or seemed like a chore. Maybe it’s because he’s freakishly tall and you’re just 5 feet 3 inches.

At first you both worked at it and tried to make it better but eventually you gave up; actually, he gave up first. You want to make it work, you want to score an A+ in the bedroom department, you want to make your husband the happiest man alive but you just don’t feel like you’re enough for him. You know he loves you but you don’t think he is sexually attracted to you so you ask him: “Jay, are you sexually attracted to me?” He puts his laptop aside and walks to you with a smirk on his face: “Come on Jane, you know I’m extremely attracted your soul and who you are inside.” As he plants a kiss on your head and walks away you can’t help but feel rejected. You know his answer to your question is “no”.

You have been on the internet for hours searching for solutions to your problem and you think you’ve found something that will work. Tomorrow is your anniversary and you’re going to blow Jay’s mind. You don’t really believe you can do it but you’re willing to try.

You’re back from dinner at that new restaurant in town and it’s time to shower, Jay has showered already and is in bed watching the news. In the bathroom, you take out the red lingerie from the Victoria’s Secrets bag lying on the ground. You look at it and sigh, consoling yourself that in the end the 18,000 Naira you spent on the thing would be worth it.

You return to the bedroom with your bathrobe on and you walk to the stereo. The CD you bought earlier today is already inside so you press play. You take the remote and mute the sound from the TV. You step in between your husband and the TV and close your eyes. You let the music get to you and you begin to dance, slowly, trying to be sensual and all. With every passing second you feel more confident and by the time you’re done your lingerie is lying on the floor. You look at your husband and it’s pretty obvious he’s trying hard to hold it in but he can’t and he bursts out laughing. He laughs and laughs till his eyes glisten with tears and you stand there staring at him with a scowl on your face.

INTERMISSION (Indian movies style )

For the first time in a long time, you both felt awesome. You feel as if you’re finally getting the whole sex thing right. You look up at your husband and ask him: “My striptease must have been good huhn?” He replies: “Yeah, it was hilarious!”

Hi. I'm new around here. Still trying to figure it all out.