₦airaland Forum

People should be careful about using AI to generate someone else's picture.

Pastor Adeboye deserves some respect

But her boobs were still out of view. Her tummy was smooth and flat. The flatness was probably as a result of her lying position.

As I mover my palms to her body, the image of Busola suddenly appeared. It was vivid, as if I had seen her real picture. I stopped my act immediately.




PART TWO


The image stared at me. Wait a minute, why was it that Busola’s image was not frowning or looking at me in disapproval. Rather, she smiled at me. Why was she smiling? Was she not supposed to be miffed that just about ten months after her demise, I wanted to hold a woman in love and tenderness?

Then, she was out of my mind. I stared Ms. Morgan’s beautiful body. Go on, my mind told me, tentatively, my right palms rested on her mid-rift. It moved to the navel and gently caressed the place. She closed her eyes. That was what Busola too usually did? Hey, stop it, my mind said. Stop comparing Ms. Morgan with Busola.

But another part of my mind said there was no cause for alarm. I rubbed me hand on the tummy, feeling her skin and having a sensation. It was still difficult to believe that I was holding Ms. Morgan so lovingly. I rubbed my hand on the upper middle part of her chest, but it never reached her breasts. I didn’t want to rush things. Besides, I told myself I was doing all this out of love, not lust.

Again, Busola’s image flashed through my mind, smiling. I wondered if I was doing the right thing. One thing was me and Ms. Morgan had to keep this relationship for some time.

“Are you thinking of her?” Ms. Morgan suddenly asked.

“Thinking of who?”

“You know who I mean. Are you thinking of Busola?”

How did she guess right? “Yes,” I answered.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure she will approve of this relationship.”

I was astonished. “How could you tell?”

“She will,” Ms. Morgan insisted. Now, where was that confidence and assurance coming from?

Some seconds, then minutes passed. I still stayed within ‘boundary.’

“Have your read her diary?”

I was surprised she knew Busola kept diaries.

“She told you she kept diaries?”

“Yes. Have you gone through them?”

There were three diaries she left behind. I decided to keep them in remembrance of her, along with some of her things. But in all honesty, I had not read them.

“I hope you’ve not thrown them away.”

“No, they are among some of her things that I kept. In truth, I’ve not gone through them.”

Ms. Morgan opened her eyes. “You need to read them. You need to read what she wrote about me.”

I was surprised again. These were certainly moments of surprises. I was surprised the level of confidentiality between Busola and Ms. Morgan was much deeper that I had thought.

There was another long pause. I decided to explore the other part of her body. My hand went to her thighs. They were smooth and succulent. She cooed as I caressed them.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to keep to your no premarital sex with me?” she asked in a whisper.

What a question! If this woman thought I was weak in my resolve, she would be making a big mistake.

“I’m perfectly sure,” I said.

“Really?”

“You will see, my dear.”

She giggled. After more minutes, she said she felt sleepy.

“Go on. Take a nap.” I stopped what I was doing and stood up.

“Where’re you going?”

“I want to leave you to take your nap.”

“You don’t need to go out. Stay.”

I sat on the bed again. She turned, such that she was now lying on her belly. I stared at her bum. They were not very big for her slim body, but they were enticing enough. I touched and rubbed them gently.

Some minutes later, I could see that she had slept. I stopped touching her body. Let her rest, my mind said. I looked around her room. I was sure there would be many clothes in there. Her clothes should not be my preoccupation, I cautioned myself.

I lie down on the bed beside her with my thought alternating between Busola and Ms. Morgan. I soon slept off too. Several minutes later, Ms. Morgan tapped on my body to wake me up.

“Maria has made food for us,” she said. “Let’s go to the dining-table to eat.”

I got up and followed her to the dinning-table. Three days ago, if anyone had told me I would sleep in Ms. Morgan’s bed that hour, I would have seriously disputed it. I was surprised it was already past noon. Goodness, I must have slept for almost two hours.

We sat next to each other at the table. The way the maid looked at me, I knew she must be wondering what was going on between myself and the madam of the house. Let them keep wondering.

I smiled to myself. It was a delicious lunch of jolof rice and beef. I ate to my full satisfaction with Madam Dupe urging me to take more.

That very moment, I decided I would be calling her M.D (Madam Dupe), apart from endearments. M.D was also endearment as it could mean My Dear.

After the meal, we retired to her bedroom again. We indeed seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. All we did was to chat. She revealed things she had never told me before, from her childhood to adulthood and how she came to have her first daughter, her only child. Sophia had been living in Spain for the past six years. MD said she had the child when she was twenty-six, though she was not ready for marriage.

Why having the child when she was not ready? I wanted to know. She shrugged. She was not the marriage type, in her estimation, she said. That was twenty-five years ago. I did a simple calculation. Two years ago, MD celebrated fifty years’ birthday. She was fifty-two now. At twenty-nine, she was twenty-three years older than me!

But the age difference didn’t matter. I had always believed that. I told her about myself too. She definitely had more to tell me, than I had to tell her. I was with her until she had a visitor about five p.m. I stood up. It was time for me to return to my residence.

As I drove home, I kept thinking about the development between MD and me. More importantly, I thought about what she said Busola disclosed to her. On getting home, I opened one of Busola’s leather boxes. I then brought out the three diaries and started reading.

She was indeed a freak of record keeper. Among many things, she wrote about the date she first started to work in my Abuja office, the day I proposed to her, the day she first visited my home and what we did, including the fact that I unbuttoned her top and kissed her boobs! I smiled as I read this.

She also wrote down what she told Ms. Morgan about me. Busola painted my image as a willful and principled character. She wrote that I was a loving husband and a devoted family man. I however got to something that made me to become curious – very curious.

She wrote that when she was no more, she would be happy if I could take MD as my wife.
My heart literarily stopped beating. Did Busola really write this? Of course, it was her diary and her hand writing. What did she mean by when she was no more?

Did she have an inkling that she would soon die? That disturbing part was written first of February, and she died some days later. How could she have written this, and how come she went to discuss the matter with Ms. Morgan?
Calm down, I told myself. I read the diary to the end and read the other two. I was more than curious and I had to put a call to MD.

“I hope I’m not disturbing anything,” I started.

“No, dear.”

“I’ve read the Busola’s diaries. One aspect that got and still gets me confused is where she stated that she would like me to marry you after she’s gone. She told you that aspect, right?”

Ms. Morgan, also known as My Dear, gave an unexpected answer. “No, she didn’t tell me that part.”

I was confused. “But you said she told you …she told you many things.”

“Not that one. I don’t even understand what that means. Could it be that she had a premonition of her death?”

I was exasperated. “That’s the question I was about to ask you. Did she hint about her death to you? Did she reveal to you that I should have love relationship with you?”

“No. All I can say is that she told me she wrote something about you and me in her diary. That was why I asked you if you had read her diary.”

I couldn’t get any further information from MD. I was sure there was more to this, “Alright. Thank you, madam.”

“Madam?” she quickly put in.

“Sorry, I mean my dear. I may need some time to adjust to my new status.” I laughed shortly.

“I can understand, darling. Are you coming over tonight?”

My heart started thumping. “You want me to come?” I asked unnecessarily.

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll be there.”

“See you.”

Another meal was waiting for me by the time I got to MD’s house. It was amala with ewedu soup.

“I hope you’ll like the meal,” she said.

I beamed in smile. “Sure. There’s no doubt that I will like any meal that comes from you.”

Once again, I ate to my satisfaction. Surely, Maria was a great cook. After the meal, MD and I went upstairs to her bedroom.

“It’s still a mystery to me that Busola wrote some of those stuffs,” I said. “I can’t believe she wrote the part about when she’s gone.”

“I’m surprised to hear that too.”

MD’s tone didn’t really show any surprise, and I wondered the extent of what she knew. I concluded that she knew more that she wanted to admit. As time went on, I believed I would unravel some ’mysteries.’

“So, how’re you today?” MD asked, changing the topic.

“Fine. What about you?”

She nodded. I observed her in the satin sleep wear she was wearing. She looked enticing as usual.

She put on the television set in the bedroom and flicked to a fashion channel. There was a leather sofa in the room where we sat.

“I’ve been thinking of something,” she said.

“We cannot make our relationship public for now. We will have to wait till next year before we can do so. That is, at least a year after Busola’s death. What do you think?”




https://selar.co/51r73d

Misplaced priorities.

But then, it is his cup of tea.

Dear friends, this is to wish you all a peaceful, progressive and prosperous new year.

.

“Hey, stop flattering. I don’t need it.”

“I only say what I mean. I don’t flatter. But wait, are you really sure you want this relationship?”

“I should be the one to ask you if you’re sure.”

“I’m more than sure.”

“I’m also more than sure.”

"Okay. I will give you caresses, amazing touches that will be fulfilling. But, then, like I said, the romance will not go beyond that for now."

I kissed her lips, gently, tenderly. Then I continued to hold her hands.

“I know people will talk, but I don’t care,” I said.

She shrugged. “I don’t care too, as long as there’s love between us.”

“Yes.” I checked the time on my phone. “I think I should go now. I don’t want you to be late for church.”

She shook her head. “I may not go to church again today. I want to be with you.”

I smiled. “The feeling is mutual, Dupe darling.”

We hugged again and lie on the bed, side by side.

“What are your likes and dislikes?” I asked.

She told me. “We have the same likes and dislikes,” I said.

“Oh, good. Just a minute.” She stood up from the bed and went to the wardrobe. Backing me, she removed the robe shat wearing. Even from the back view, she was beautiful and gorgeous. I remembered Busola. Slow down, boy, I told myself.

Dupe changed into a black, collarless t-shirt and a bum short, this time around, a black one. Then she came back to lie on the bed.

“Can you cuddle me a bit?” she asked.

Somehow, I knew it would not be more than a cuddle.

“Sure,” I said. She lie on her back. Where would I start the cuddle? I started on her belly. She raised the cloth for me to have a good access.

But her boobs were still out of view. Her tummy was smooth and flat. The flatness was probably as a result of her lying position. As I mover my palms to her body, the image of Busola suddenly appeared. It was vivid, as if I had seen her real picture. I stopped my act immediately.



https://selar.co/51r73d

This is to wish all my dear friends and fellow Nairalanders merry Christmas and Happy holiday.

God bless us all.


You can show love 💕 to me by visiting:

https://selar.co/showlove/titoo


Thank you and remain blessed.