₦airaland Forum

OT2024:
"Tayo, I'm on my way," T.K, my brother, called out from the sitting room.

It was Monday morning and the time was about five a.m. He always said this Monday to Friday, about the same time. T.K was on his way to work on Lagos Island and he must leave home early. He was a chartered accountant with an audit firm, while I, his junior brother, was still jobless.

I left the bedroom, went to the sitting room, and followed him to the exit door to the apartment.

"Have a nice day at work, brother," I said, wishing him well.

He nodded and smiled. That was one good thing about him. He was always looking jovial.

"Have a nice day too," he said.

I locked the door after he had gone and returned to the bedroom. It was a two-bedroom apartment and I was 'privileged' to be given a room.

I knew sleep would not come again that morning. I would just loiter in bed until I would get up to take my bath.

I intended to go out that morning in search of a job. I did this regularly. At twenty-five and a graduate, I was still searching for work two years after graduation. I had read Economics and I had always believed that in spite of all the obstacles and economic travails bedevilling Nigeria, I would get a befitting job. I never stopped believing that.

By eight o'clock that morning, I was set to leave the apartment. I was dressed in casual jeans and t-shirt. In my hand was a black folder in which I kept photocopies of my credentials.

Today must be very good for me by the power of almighty God, I said in my heart. I indeed believed something good would happen that that as I stepped out of the house.

OT2024:
"Tayo, I'm on my way," T.K, my brother, called out from the sitting room.

It was Monday morning and the time was about five a.m. He always said this Monday to Friday, about the same time. T.K was on his way to work on Lagos Island and he must leave home early. He was a chartered accountant with an audit firm, while I, his junior brother, was still jobless.

I left the bedroom, went to the sitting room, and followed him to the exit door to the apartment.

"Have a nice day at work, brother," I said, wishing him well.

He nodded and smiled. That was one good thing about him. He was always looking jovial.

"Have a nice day too," he said.

I locked the door after he had gone and returned to the bedroom. It was a two-bedroom apartment and I was 'privileged' to be given a room.

I knew sleep would not come again that morning. I would just loiter in bed until I would get up to take my bath.

I intended to go out that morning in search of a job. I did this regularly. At twenty-five and a graduate, I was still searching for work two years after graduation. I had read Economics and I had always believed that in spite of all the obstacles and economic travails bedevilling Nigeria, I would get a befitting job. I never stopped believing that.

By eight o'clock that morning, I was set to leave the apartment. I was dressed in casual jeans and t-shirt. In my hand was a black folder in which I kept photocopies of my credentials.

Today must be very good for me by the power of almighty God, I said in my heart. I indeed believed something good would happen that that as I stepped out of the house.

MrCork:
Of course moiney can buy pucccccci...dont they hav olosho in yor area? Are u ok sir!!((no oofencse))

BigBasher:
So, in your mind, 'buying pucccccci' is the same as buying love.

You are far from the truth.

MrCork:
So u dont like pucccci & u sayin u gay....corrrrect?....WHY ARE U GAY SIR??((no oofencse))

OT2024:
She smiled in delight. “That will be good. That will be very good.”

“But there is something I must say too,” I put in.

“What is it?”

I allowed a meaningful pause, sipping more juice. “I don’t believe in just boyfriend/girlfriend stuff. I believe in serious relationship, a long lasting relationship.”

I smiled briefly. “Above all, I believe in sex only in marriage. Premarital or extramarital sex, to me, is no, no, no. I will give a lot of caresses, mind blowing ones, but the physical activity will not go beyond that.”

I stared at her face to read her reaction. At first, she appeared shocked by what I said. Then she broke into a long laughter.

“No premarital sex? No sex? Tell me you’re joking, Tayo.”

I smiled at her laughter. So, she thought I was joking? No, she was wrong.

“I’m serious, madam. It’s a policy I love and want to continue with. There will be no sex until we are legally married.”

She saw my seriousness and stared at me. “You’re really serious?”

I nodded emphatically. “Yes, I am.”

“Does that mean you can marry a woman like me – a woman much older than yourself?”

“Of course. Once love develops in the course of the relationship, the target is marriage.”

She stood up from the dining-table and moved to a seat in the sitting-room. She appeared thinking over what I said. I decided to allow her to take her time.

I washed my hands, dried it with the table cloth, took the last sip from the juice and went to join her in the sitting-room. I however took a seat opposite her.

“No man had I ever told me what you said,” she blurted out musingly. “Do you really mean all these? Please, stop hyping me.”

I smiled genially at her. “I mean everything I just said.”

She shook her head. “No, that’s unbelievable. Are you saying if I offer you sex right now, you will say no?”

“Definitely.”

She shook her head again. “No, you can’t be serious.”

She stood up. “Give me one minute.” She left the sitting room. I wondered what she was up to. A minute later, she was back. There was a wad of five hundred naira notes in her hand. She dropped it on the center table.

“That money and a lot more is for you if you can do one simple thing. It’s a favour from me to you, take that money and take me. Yes, I mean it and I’m saying it boldly, I’m all yours right now.”

“What an offer! What a beautiful offer. If taking you is to caress your lovely body, I am in. But if it goes beyond that, count me out.”

I smiled, stood up and walked towards the money. It was crisp and new. I dropped it back on the table and walked towards her.

“You’re very beautiful, madam,” I said. I pulled her up to her feet and kissed her. A knowing smile was on her face as she promptly wrapped her hands around my neck.

I kissed her again, long, deep and breath-taking. It was electrifying and I really felt I was doing all these to a desirable woman. Her body was very soft against mine.

She was some inches shorter and her forehead was where my mouth was. I could feel her big breasts against my mid-rift. I could vividly feel the beating of her heart.

Then, I disengaged from her.

"You have to take me completely," she said gently. "I won't settle for anything less."

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but what I said still stands; what I said about believing that there should be no premarital sex. It’s a belief I’m not going to discard for anything in this world.”

She looked at me in a shock and flopped back on her seat.

I took some steps away from her. It was now few minutes to ten. “I really want to thank you for the sumptuous meal. Thank you so much for the opportunity to hold you lovingly – and the kiss. I will give you time to think about what I said. I’m ready to give you time to decide if I’m really suitable for you. For now, I will like to take my leave. Thanks for everything.”

I was about to turn and go.

“Wait. Let me ask you this: do you have any feeling for me at all?” she asked.

MrCork:
^^^^STORY
...moiney can buy pucccccccci sir!!!!!((((no oofencse))))

OT2024:
Yes, money can buy sex, but not LOVE.

Is love & sex not the same??.... *i wanna make love*... duh!

Brother did u go to primarrry school & did they teach u sex edocation sir..
..even senseless Knightred & dumb Ayjay45 or steewwpid HellVictorinho6 no the difffarense sir!!(((no oofencse)))

MrCork:


Is love & sex not the same??.... *i wanna make love*... duh!

Brother did u go to primarrry school & did they teach u sex edocation sir..
..even senseless Knightred & dumb Ayjay45 or steewwpid HellVictorinho6 no the difffarense sir!!(((no oofencse)))

OT2024:
"Tayo, I'm on my way," T.K, my brother, called out from the sitting room.

It was Monday morning and the time was about five a.m. He always said this Monday to Friday, about the same time. T.K was on his way to work on Lagos Island and he must leave home early. He was a chartered accountant with an audit firm, while I, his junior brother, was still jobless.

I left the bedroom, went to the sitting room, and followed him to the exit door to the apartment.

"Have a nice day at work, brother," I said, wishing him well.

He nodded and smiled. That was one good thing about him. He was always looking jovial.

"Have a nice day too," he said.

I locked the door after he had gone and returned to the bedroom. It was a two-bedroom apartment and I was 'privileged' to be given a room.

I knew sleep would not come again that morning. I would just loiter in bed until I would get up to take my bath.

I intended to go out that morning in search of a job. I did this regularly. At twenty-five and a graduate, I was still searching for work two years after graduation. I had read Economics and I had always believed that in spite of all the obstacles and economic travails bedevilling Nigeria, I would get a befitting job. I never stopped believing that.

By eight o'clock that morning, I was set to leave the apartment. I was dressed in casual jeans and t-shirt. In my hand was a black folder in which I kept photocopies of my credentials.

Today must be very good for me by the power of almighty God, I said in my heart. I indeed believed something good would happen that that as I stepped out of the house.

OT2024:
There was bitterness, anger and hatefulness in her tone. I decided not to stay a minute longer in her flat. As soon as I stepped out, she slammed the door at my back.

What an anticlimax! Life could be such a big paradox. The same woman I was kissing and caressing some minutes ago was the one hissing at me and treating me so scornfully.
This was certainly a misadventure, I concluded as I returned to our flat.


On Sunday morning, I decided to do general clean-up of the house, T.K would soon be going to church. He did not like my infrequent attendance of Sunday service, but he had to let me be. I remained indoor till afternoon. About 1.00 p.m. I prepared lunch of rice.

“I’m definitely going miss to you,” T.K said. “All the same, best of luck.”

At two o’clock, I took my bag and left for Ikeja. At Off Toyin Street, Ms. Morgan lived in a three-bedroom apartment. I met Linda there. Minutes later, Linda drove Ms. Morgan and me to the airport. I could see tears in her eyes as she waved bye to Ms. Morgan. The fifty minutes’ flight was smooth. I sat next to Ms. Morgan who was busy reading some documents.

At Abuja airport, we took a cab to the legislative quarters. Ms. Morgan had been allocated a detached three-bedroom bungalow. In the house, she had a maidservant and a cook. Briefly, she explained some working and living schedules to me.

“You would have to manage a room in the back quarter for now,” she said and showed me to the room. It was a neat and standard room with a 4 inches by 6 inches bed, a reading table, a chair and an in-built wardrobe.

I opened my bag and arranged some of the clothes I had brought inside the wardrobe.
Some minutes, the maid came to tell me that madam would like to see me in the main building. I went to see her.

“I hope you’re not bored. I will get a television for your room by tomorrow,” she said as soon as I got inside the large sitting-room.

“Oh, I can always manage to get by.”

She motioned me to one of the exquisite, leather seats in the room. I sat down graciously.

“You can stay around for now to watch the t.v. Do not hesitate to let me know anything you need.”

I nodded. “Alright, madam.”

She soon left the sitting-room. I changed the channel of the television to a news channel. A while later, the maid told me food was ready.

“Will you like to eat it here, or should I take it to your room?”

I thought I needed privacy, so I said she should take the food to my room. I got up and returned to the room.

I followed Ms. Morgan to her office in the official car the following day. Everything still looked like a movie to me. On her instruction, her secretary gave me letter of employment and identity card. She also briefed me about where my office would be and other official matters.

Working for Ms. Morgan was interesting and fruitful. Now, I was closely working with her. The working schedule varied, as sometimes we could be in the office as late at nine in the night. Sometimes, she would we needed to work on Sunday. I must say she was very generous. She was always giving and asking me if there was anything I needed.

Our relationship remained official but cordial.
For now, I was under the payroll of the federal government. Of course, the remuneration was times three of what Ms. Morgan had earlier offered. I never hesitated to thank her for the opportunity she had given me.

OT2024:
There was bitterness, anger and hatefulness in her tone. I decided not to stay a minute longer in her flat. As soon as I stepped out, she slammed the door at my back.

What an anticlimax! Life could be such a big paradox. The same woman I was kissing and caressing some minutes ago was the one hissing at me and treating me so scornfully.
This was certainly a misadventure, I concluded as I returned to our flat.


On Sunday morning, I decided to do general clean-up of the house, T.K would soon be going to church. He did not like my infrequent attendance of Sunday service, but he had to let me be. I remained indoor till afternoon. About 1.00 p.m. I prepared lunch of rice.

“I’m definitely going miss to you,” T.K said. “All the same, best of luck.”

At two o’clock, I took my bag and left for Ikeja. At Off Toyin Street, Ms. Morgan lived in a three-bedroom apartment. I met Linda there. Minutes later, Linda drove Ms. Morgan and me to the airport. I could see tears in her eyes as she waved bye to Ms. Morgan. The fifty minutes’ flight was smooth. I sat next to Ms. Morgan who was busy reading some documents.

At Abuja airport, we took a cab to the legislative quarters. Ms. Morgan had been allocated a detached three-bedroom bungalow. In the house, she had a maidservant and a cook. Briefly, she explained some working and living schedules to me.

“You would have to manage a room in the back quarter for now,” she said and showed me to the room. It was a neat and standard room with a 4 inches by 6 inches bed, a reading table, a chair and an in-built wardrobe.

I opened my bag and arranged some of the clothes I had brought inside the wardrobe.
Some minutes, the maid came to tell me that madam would like to see me in the main building. I went to see her.

“I hope you’re not bored. I will get a television for your room by tomorrow,” she said as soon as I got inside the large sitting-room.

“Oh, I can always manage to get by.”

She motioned me to one of the exquisite, leather seats in the room. I sat down graciously.

“You can stay around for now to watch the t.v. Do not hesitate to let me know anything you need.”

I nodded. “Alright, madam.”

She soon left the sitting-room. I changed the channel of the television to a news channel. A while later, the maid told me food was ready.

“Will you like to eat it here, or should I take it to your room?”

I thought I needed privacy, so I said she should take the food to my room. I got up and returned to the room.

I followed Ms. Morgan to her office in the official car the following day. Everything still looked like a movie to me. On her instruction, her secretary gave me letter of employment and identity card. She also briefed me about where my office would be and other official matters.

Working for Ms. Morgan was interesting and fruitful. Now, I was closely working with her. The working schedule varied, as sometimes we could be in the office as late at nine in the night. Sometimes, she would we needed to work on Sunday. I must say she was very generous. She was always giving and asking me if there was anything I needed.

Our relationship remained official but cordial.
For now, I was under the payroll of the federal government. Of course, the remuneration was times three of what Ms. Morgan had earlier offered. I never hesitated to thank her for the opportunity she had given me.

pansophist:
Money can't buy love, the same way ''abeg'' can't buy an aircraft.

But you can exchange money for the fruits of love, such as being with your choice of a woman, activating polygamy, improving your offspring's genes, and playing to female biological needs for security, which many will choose before love.

Because if she has to think of being with a man she has feelings for but will live poorly, or a wealthy man and they live like royalty, the choice is obvious for most.

Do not compensate yourself that money won't get you love. Money can brush you up, give you confidence, improve your wardrobe, and looks, and bring respect. Money will mint out the submission in a woman.

Your ability to attract a woman is higher from a place of abundance than a place of lack.

Most importantly, understand love as a duty. I don't care if a woman goes to national TV and declares that she loves me, all I want to see is that she is giving me the fruits of love. Feelings and declarations of love are meaningless.

So loyalty, respect, submission, preferably a virgin, being truthful, listening to me, not combative, argumentative, being my ally, no manipulation, etc. That love. Any woman that gives you that loves you.

And you are more likely to get the above if you have money. All the polygamous men in the past and present, do you think they care if their woman loves them? They don't. They just want the fruits of love.

Ned doesn't care if his wives love him, he cares they give him virginity and the fruit of love as described above. That's what you need from a woman, not her feelings or declaration of love that fluctuates like the weather.

Some woman who loved me a few years ago hates me now because I was uninterested. Is that the kind of love you want to take seriously?

Even women do not trust their love, that's why they choose wealth before the man they have feelings for. Your wealth is permanent, her feelings are conditional on that wealth. So why do you need her feelings?

pansophist:
So loyalty, respect, submission, preferably a virgin, being truthful, listening to me, not combative, argumentative, being my ally, no manipulation, etc. That love. Any woman that gives you that loves you.

pansophist:
Money can't buy love, the same way ''abeg'' can't buy an aircraft.

But you can exchange money for the fruits of love, such as being with your choice of a woman, activating polygamy, improving your offspring's genes, and playing to female biological needs for security, which many will choose before love.

Because if she has to think of being with a man she has feelings for but will live poorly, or a wealthy man and they live like royalty, the choice is obvious for most.

Do not compensate yourself that money won't get you love. Money can brush you up, give you confidence, improve your wardrobe, and looks, and bring respect. Money will mint out the submission in a woman.

Your ability to attract a woman is higher from a place of abundance than a place of lack.

Most importantly, understand love as a duty. I don't care if a woman goes to national TV and declares that she loves me, all I want to see is that she is giving me the fruits of love. Feelings and declarations of love are meaningless.

So loyalty, respect, submission, preferably a virgin, being truthful, listening to me, not combative, argumentative, being my ally, no manipulation, etc. That love. Any woman that gives you that loves you.

And you are more likely to get the above if you have money. All the polygamous men in the past and present, do you think they care if their woman loves them? They don't. They just want the fruits of love.

Ned doesn't care if his wives love him, he cares they give him virginity and the fruit of love as described above. That's what you need from a woman, not her feelings or declaration of love that fluctuates like the weather.

Some woman who loved me a few years ago hates me now because I was uninterested. Is that the kind of love you want to take seriously?

Even women do not trust their love, that's why they choose wealth before the man they have feelings for. Your wealth is permanent, her feelings are conditional on that wealth. So why do you need her feelings?