But that's not what had television news vans blocking traffic outside my apartment this morning.

Lawyers had opened up his will, and apparently kept everything under wraps for the past week. But now a leak had hit the media that Mr. Johnson had left his entire fortune, worth several billion dollars, to his one and only son, Bashi Johnson, a young investment banker in New York.

Bashi Johnson, as in BJ.

A famous guy dying would always be news. But the fact that NO ONE knew Bashi Johnson even HAD a son made things more newsworthy. And the fact that he'd left several BILLION dollars to a son who was unaware made the story the headliner.

And then there were three photos on the screen. To the left, 48-year old Bashi Johnson, with his light brown hair and sterling dark eyes. To the right, a pretty picture of my mom from a few years ago. And in the middle, the official company photo of me acquired from my investment firm. Now that they lined up all three of us, I could detect some physical resemblance. Same hairline, same cheekbones. I had my mom's eyes, although they were the same deep dark color of my father's. I'd gotten a great mix of both African and Asian genes, and now I knew exactly where they'd come from.

"Bashi!" my mom was screaming through the phone.

I suddenly jerked out of my stupor and picked up the handset once again. "Tell me everything."

My mom was only 20 when she'd gotten pregnant with me. She'd come to America from Hong Kong for college, a scholarship student with a bright future. Bashi Johnson was a poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks with a hard determination to succeed. They'd met during their sophomore year and soon began dating. It was the first real love for both of them.

They were careful to use protection, but even the best protection isn't 100% guaranteed. They'd disagreed on what to do when my mom got pregnant, and in the end it drove them apart. My mom dropped out of school to give birth to me and got a job. Bashi wanted no part of a baby that would slow him down in his quest to make it big in business.

My birth certificate listed "Father unknown", even though she'd named me after him. Oddly enough, having a native born child had been the catalyst in getting my mom citizenship as well. And so my mom and I had made our life together.

Eventually, she went back and got her degree. She used her intelligence and personal drive to forge a successful career, despite the demands of a baby. And she taught me her hard work ethic as well.

But while she took her child and moved on with her life, Bashi Johnson never forgot the son he had fathered. When he made it big, he contacted my mom to ask about me.

The two of them agreed that I didn't need to know who he was right away. Too many children of the wealthy became spoiled brats, wasting money on parties and drugs. I was only ten years old, and both my mom and real father wanted to see me succeed on my own. So there were no trust funds. No checks mysteriously sent to my mother. No record to tie us to Mr. Johnson.

Realistically, I was still given a lot of advantages. My mom was successful in her own right and we were never poor. I didn't have to struggle to pay for college. And so without knowing how much money I would have to fall back on, I graduated, got my MBA, and found my own high salary job working in finance on Wall Street.

I was 27 and could afford my own Lagos apartment. I was debt-free and financially stable. I'd enjoyed my social life, but I'd never shown an inclination for drugs or other excess. I was a responsible young man, and I didn't need my father's money. Those were exactly the reasons why my mom and father had been ready to tell me the truth.

But then his jet had equipment trouble and went down. And my father was dead before I ever knew him.




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I lifted her spaghetti top and unhooked the pink bra. As I suspected, her boobs were of average size. She must have done some job on them because they looked quite firm; firmer than what a woman of her age should have on her chest.

The kissing continued. I had full access to the boobs now. They felt soft in my hands. She moved to the bed and I followed her. We sat on the bed and continued the kissing game, if you could call it a game. To her it might be a game, but to me, it was more of a task.

She smiled at me. 'Wow, you're a real professional.'

I smiled back. 'Are you okay now?'

She nodded, stood up and opened one of the wardrobes.

'That will be all for now,' she said and put on a sexy satin night wear. I took a cue again and wore my boxer. My prick was still erect, but it appeared she had no business with that. That organ was going to be mightily disappointed.

She came to lie on her belly on the bed.

'Come and rub my back,' she said. I nodded, pulled the satin top up to her chest and started rubbing the back. I combined rubbing with massaging and caressing. She closed her eyes. After some minutes, she slept off. I stopped what I was doing and stared at her. Was that all I would be doing - kissing, caressing, sucking and rubbing? Was that all that would be my task? I sighed and shrugged. If that was all that she wanted, then no qualms.

I lay by her side and soon slept off too. I was awakened some hours later by her soft hand which tapped on my shoulder. The clock in the large bedroom showed the time to be some minutes to one in the morning. I opened my eyes dreamily, wondering where I was and who the woman by my side was. But, it was only momentary. In a jiffy, I remembered that I was with Ms. Biola Amigos and that I was on a special assignment.




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Then she blurted a harsh phrase in Cantonese, telling me to wake up.

"I'm up, I'm up."

"Bashi, I have to tell you I'm sorry. I should have told you the truth a long time ago."

That got my attention, and I could feel the last bindings of sleep breaking away as I sat up a little straighter in bed. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry. But you're going to be hearing a lot of things in the next few days. But you should know it is the truth. I should have told you before. Bashi, I love you."

"I love you too, mom. But what are you talking about?"

There was no answer, and I no longer heard the faint buzz of feedback from an open cell connection.

"Hello? Mom?" I ventured. "Hello?"

Nothing. And then a moment later came the triple tone of CALL ENDED. I cursed out my cell phone carrier. Fewest dropped calls my butt.

The phone vibrated a second later and I instantly hit the TALK button. "Mom?"

"No, it's Tolu. Ohmigod! I can't believe it! Can you believe it?"

Between my mom and Tolu, this was really starting to frustrate me. "Believe what? What the hell are you talking about?"

"You mean you haven't heard? They just announced it on the morning news!"

"Heard WHAT?"

"Your father! He's dead!"

She couldn't have said what I thought she said... "Who?"

"Oh for Bleep's sake." Tolu sounded annoyed at me now. "Turn on your TV. There are news crews right outside your apartment right now."

I found the remote and hit the power button. As the screen was flickering to life, my phone was buzzing at me again as I had another incoming call. "Tolu, it's my mom, I'll call you back."

"You'd better."

I hit the button to switch calls to my mom, and then my jaw hit the floor. There really were news cameras outside my apartment. The screen showed the front of my apartment building, two of the doormen I recognized working hard to keep various media types away while various residents tried to sneak out and get on with their lives. With typical New York self-centeredness, none of them even stopped to ask what was going on.

"Bashi!"

"Yeah, mom. I'm watching the news."

I could almost HEAR her close her eyes as she sighed. "I should have told you."

I was getting really annoyed. This had gone on WAY too long. SOMEBODY had to tell me what the hell was going on! And as her words reverberated through my head, the answer scrolled across the screen.

Noted billionaire industrialist Bashi Johnson died in a jet crash almost a week ago. I'd recognized the name as he'd been romantically linked to several celebrities over the years. An unmarried playboy for decades, he'd been very visible hobnobbing with the Hollywood elite, building his fortune through some successful movie producing in addition to his profitable corporations. But that's not what had television news vans blocking traffic outside my apartment this morning.





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Then she got dressed quickly and then gave me a short peck on the lips. "I'll call you."


And then she was gone.

Tolu rarely stayed with me overnight. We had a great sexual chemistry, but we both knew I was just her booty call. I was like the old, comfortable blanket she could always snuggle up to. Then again, the sex was fantastic and I had nothing to complain about.

Still, it would be nice for her to appreciate me a little more.

I lounged around my bed for another few minutes, then finally got up and went to take a shower before going to sleep.






My hand rested on the nightstand, two inches from the alarm clock I'd just attempted to crush. The morning noise of a busy Lagos morning wafted in through the walls while I tried to shut my eyes and ears against an invasive weekday.

***!

The hell? Why was it still buzzing? Then I noticed that the noise was coming from INSIDE my nightstand. Bleary-eyed, I yanked open the drawer and found my cell phone, which was vibrating against the wood in silent mode. I'd turned it down when Tolu had come over last night.

***!

After a few blinks, I managed to read the caller ID. It was my mom. And it was 7 o'clock in the morning. I didn't want to pick it up at this early hour.

Still, she was my mom. My one and only parent. I never knew who my dad was. He'd been gone long before I was born and my mom never spoke of him. She'd taught me to tie my shoelaces and help me with my homework and generally take care of me my entire life. The least I could do was answer the phone when she called me. So I hit the TALK button and gingerly pressed the receiver to my head.

"Yeah..."

"Bashi!" she exclaimed. Well, it was a little more like my mom's accent wasn't very good with 'th' sounds. Then she blurted a harsh phrase in Cantonese, telling me to wake up.





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From evidence before me, it is partially true.

However a lot still must be done. There is need for broadbased impact, not just marginal one.

Diary of a Flirt





For the well-made Kay, the diary is an essential compendium of personal details that depicts life. He is a young man full of life who believes pleasure starts and ends here on earth. His belief is to explore the opposite sex in gratifying ways.







The succulent butt in my hands was absolutely perfect. The hips flared prettily around perfectly-shaped tight globes. The skin was milky white and unblemished save for the red blush where my hand had been spanking her.

She yelled when I spanked her again, half-surprise in her voiced mixed with lustful excitement. And then she moaned erotically as I thrust forward with my dick, burrowing deeply into her clenching pussy.

"Gosh, Tolu, you are so fucking hot..." I groaned as my cock pistoned in and out of her body. I could stare at this sight all day.

"I know..." she answered confidently, then moaned once again. She was comfortably crouched doggy-style, her knees spread to the side for balance and her head resting against her folded arms on my bed. This left that perfect butt up in the air, a wonderful receptacle for storing my man meat.

I pushed my way in, then held my crotch against her buttcheeks and rotated around, carving the sensitive nerves inside her pussy. The sensations felt great to me, but it was a technique I had for delaying my own orgasm while stimulating a girl as much as possible.

I was rewarded with extra whimpering coming out of Tolu's end of our coupling, and she managed to sneak one hand down to play with her own clit as she approached her climax.

"Oh, don't stop. I'm gonna cum. Bleep me, Kay! Bleep me!" she cried urgently as she got up onto all fours, planting her palms against the bed and jerking her body back against me with each push.

I ceased my rotations and gripped her hips in my hands, readying myself for the final stretch. With metronomic precision, I thrust in and out of her rapidly, giving in to the wonderful feelings and bring about my own orgasm.

Tolu beat me to it, grunting "Bleep! Bleep! Bleep!" before her hips suddenly twitched violently, her pussy muscles clamping down all at once. She screamed as she came.

I was still a little bit away from my own climax, but felt the tension leave my shoulders as I was now free to cum. I pounded into her backside all through Tolu's orgasm, until she unexpectedly slid out from under me, my cock wet and bobbing in the air as she turned about.

I whimpered in momentary disappointment, so close to the release I craved. But Tolu fisted my dick and started pumping it as she clamped her lips around the head and sucked furiously.

That was all it took as I grunted and then released, feeling my balls squeezing every ounce out of me as my pecker spurted jet after jet of hot semen into the back of her mouth.

She drank down every drop, and then collapsed back across my bed while I sat on my heels, my thighs burning from their recent exertion. Tolu's naked form was so gorgeous, splayed out haphazardly amidst my tangled sheets. Her large, perky tits pointed up into the air, full and round even though she was lying on her back. Her short, silky dark hair haloed around her head while she closed her eyes and luxuriated in the aftermath of our coupling.

When she caught her breath, Tolu's brilliant dark eyes opened back up and fixed on me, a sparkle in her light irises. When she was aroused they turned almost violet, but as she began to calm down the deeper dark seeped back in. "Sorry about that. I know it caught you off guard."

"I'll say. I was in a panic, thinking you were going to tease me all night."

"No, not teasing. But I didn't want your spunk leaking out of me." She got up and started looking for her clothing.

"I take it that means you're not staying tonight?"

"No, I've got an early morning shoot. Maxim Magazine! And the last time we did this I left a wet spot on the taxi seat because of you."

"Yeah, no problem. And uh, I've got a photo shoot too... for um... Cosmo..."

Tolu grinned and muttered, "Yeah, right." She stretched for a moment, bending her body back and forth and twisting her arms behind her in some pretzel fashion that showed off her amazing flexibility and simultaneously thrust her naked bosom outwards. Catching my stare, Tolu smirked for a moment. Then she got dressed quickly and then gave me a short peck on the lips. "I'll call you."




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The line was disconnected.

'Is that your girlfriend?' Ms. Amigos asked.

'No. She's my Assistant in the office.'

She nodded as if the answer I gave her was the one she expected.

We remained in the living-room until few minutes past nine.

'Alright, let's go to the bedroom.' She stood up and used the remote control to switched off the television. She switched off the split air-conditioner too. I followed her upstairs. We went to the last room to the right, her bed-room. She certainly lived big. The bedroom was big too.

She wasn't a careless dresser as I could see no cloth carelessly left on the bed or thrown somewhere. There were up to four closed wardrobes
and I imagined they were full of clothes and ladies' accessories. A fashionable woman like her would clothes and wears in abundance.

'Here, we are,' she said.

Here, my work would start, I thought.

I removed my shoes and socks, tucking the socks inside the shoes.

There was a small rechargeable radio and MP4 player on a stool by the bedside. She put it on and played the music via the memory card. It was
cool R & B music.

I tucked out my shirt and waited. She came to stand before me.

'Alright,' she said. 'Handle me lovingly the way you've never handled a lady before.'

I grinned. 'That will be no problem. I'll do it with all pleasure.'

She put her hands at akimbo. 'Well, go ahead.'

'Okay, baby. As you like.'

I drew her to myself and kissed her lips. They yielded easily to my ravenous lips. Then, I slowed down. She probably liked it easy and slow. My hands went to her boobs and I cuddled them. Just the previous day, I was introduced to this woman. If anyone had told me that within forty-eight hours, I would handle the breasts of this society lady, I would dispute it. Here I was, doing exactly that, and with relish.

I lifted her spaghetti top and unhooked the pink bra. As I suspected, her boobs were of average size. She must have done some job on them because they looked quite firm; firmer than what a woman of her age should have on her chest.

The kissing continued. I had full access to the boobs now. They felt soft in my hands. She moved to the bed and I followed her. We sat on the bed and continued the kissing game, if you could call it a game. To her it might be a game, but to me, it was more of a task.


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She smiled briefly. 'I like your eagerness. Well, it's good. I can see that there'll be a lot of mutual understanding and cooperation ahead. That's good. As for your first client, I'm the one.'

I looked at her sharply. 'You?'

She nodded. 'Yes, me. I will have to sample your taste and know exactly how good you're. It's after that I can properly evaluate and recommend you.'
It wasn't funny, but I felt like laughing. This whole thing would be interesting, wouldn't it?

I breathed in deeply.

'You'll be my guest till tomorrow morning. You keep me company and you'll amuse me. Tomorrow morning, you'll get your pay. As early as you want, you can leave.'

I nodded. This was one job that should be worthwhile. Even as Biola Amigos sat opposite, my mind was filled with vivid imaginations. I
imagined what would be the shape of those breasts when she removed her top and the bra. I imagined many other lurid things. I grinned to myself.

'I can be here till five-thirty a.m,' I said. 'Then, I'll have to go home and prepare for office. So, how much is in it for me?'

'Smart guy,' Ms. Amigos replied. 'Everything depends on how good you are, but the least money you can get is one hundred dollars.' I mentally calculated that in naira and nodded.

'Deal,' I said.

She smiled again and stood up. 'Let me go to the kitchen and see how far Salamat has gone with preparing dinner.'

I sighed again. 'Okay, madam.'

She moved out of the living-room and I watched her backside. Her bum was moderate, just like her boobs seemed to be. My salacious imaginations were back.

I poured more wine inside my cup and sat back relaxingly. I might as well enjoy every moment I was there. I looked at the young lady in the picture - her daughter. Tara couldn't be more than twenty-two, and she looked pretty too. I wasn't surprised Ms. Amigos said she had no use for marriage. A woman that acted the way she did would not fancy marital life.

Not me. Though I was thirty-five and I still frolicked around, I had the desire to settle down with a wife very soon. I hoped by then, I would stop fancying any lady in skirt. I hoped by then, my heart would be cured of the lusts it harbored.

About five minutes later, Ms. Amigos was back.

'The dinner will soon be ready,' she said.

'Thanks.'

She looked at me and smiled. 'So tell me, what do you do in your past-times?'

I smiled too. 'I love to surf the internet, I love to read and I love to chat with people.'

'Good. How old are you?'

I told her and she nodded.

'So, what do you do to while away time?' I asked in turn.

'I listen to music and dance. Any good music is okay. I'm very much young at heart.’

'It's good to hear that,' I said.

Salamat came to the living-room. 'Food don ready, ma,' she informed.

'Set the dining-table.' Ms. Amigos turned to me. 'Let's go to the dining-table.'

I grinned, stood up and followed her.

It was fried rice, fried chicken and fried plantain that were set in different slabs. The meal was sumptuous. I supposed I had to feed very well for the task ahead.

'I've not seen Tara since I came,' I observed.

She smiled. 'That's because she's far away in Canada.'

I wasn't surprised. Canada was the choice destination for many Nigerians.

She poured some portion for herself while I did the same too. Only that mine was a very generous portion. We ate the meal in silence. I must say Salamat was a good cook. Ms. Amigos seemed to be very good in selecting. I decided that I would prove to be very good too.

After the meal, we returned to the living-room. She switched on the television and watched the news. My telephone rang and it was Helen on the line.

'Hello,' she said. 'How did it go? Were you able to get the client?'

I grinned to myself. 'No problem, Helen. Everything went well.'

'Good.' She became excited. 'So, how much is the client investing?'

'Don't worry. Tomorrow morning, I'll tell you the details.'

'Are you at home, now?'

My mind raced. That seemingly simple question had a lot of meaning. 'I'm not. I may not get home on time tonight.'

'Oh, you're with friends?'

'Something like that.'

She gave up. 'Okay, till tomorrow morning, then.'

I sighed. 'Alright. Goodnight.'

The line was disconnected.

'Is that your girlfriend?' Ms. Amigos asked.




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She nodded. ‘What I’m saying has nothing to do with escorting anyone or doing escort service. It also has nothing to do with your ponzi scheme. It's a complete private arrangement. The company you're to keep is to amuse the lady, and it's mostly in the night.'

I opened my mouth. Wait a minute, what the hell was this woman talking about?

'I don't understand you,' I said.

'Of course, you do.' She smiled again. 'It's actually a very corporate thing. The lady in question is high class person and the pay is good.

At the same time, it doesn't disturb your other work. A young man like you will definitely find the whole thing adventurous.'
My mouth was numbed, but my mind was busy.

'Well, that's the proposition. If you accept, your work starts tonight. By tomorrow morning, you'll be thousands of naira richer. That is all.'

I wanted to get angry. I wanted to tell her that though I like ladies, 'prostitution' under any guise was not what I fancied. I wanted to present myself as a decent and serious guy. Unfortunately, I could not.

Biola Amigos was smiling at me. She must have known my weakness and must have realized I would fall for her bait.

'Who is this friend of yours?' I asked.

She nodded. 'Sorry, you're not to know too much details. All I can tell you is that she's a high class woman. Are you in this or not?'
I appeared to muse over it. It was my turn to take my time while she waited.

My mind was in frenzy. Well, maybe you go give it a trial and see if you could use that opportunity to reach more prospective customers for TMM, I thought.

'Okay. I'll give it a trial,' I said.

The smile on her face was expansive. 'I know it,' she said, almost triumphantly. 'I know you'll accept the proposition.

Congratulations, Steve. Don't worry, just be a good boy and see how you'll be treated.'
I managed a grin. 'Thank you, madam.'

She nodded. 'But you must give your words that whoever you have affairs with must not be disclosed to any person, no matter what. Everything is highly confidential, and you must never betray anyone. Do I have your words?'

There should be no problem with that. 'I give my words.'

'That's good. You're on.'

I nodded. 'Thank you.'

'This calls for a toast.' She went to the bar and brought another glass cup. She poured the wine into it and handed it to me.

'Thanks.'

'This is a toast to the beginning of a rosy and happy relationship. Cheers!'

'Cheers!' I replied.

I sipped from the wine. The taste was excellent.

'Tell me about yourself,' she said.

Briefly, I told her my age, state of origin, schools that I attended, working experience and how I came to be working for TMM.
She nodded. 'Where do you live?'

'At Aguda, close to Ogba,' I replied.

'That's not far away.'

'Yes.' I took more wine from my glass cup.

'Let me briefly tell you about myself,' she said. 'Well I'm a single mother, and that' - she pointed at the picture of the young lady - 'is my girl, Tara. I've remained single not because suitors are not coming my way, but because I choose to remain single. I do clothing sales.’

'You've not told me the person and where she lives.'

She smiled briefly. 'I like your eagerness. Well, it's good. I can see that there'll be a lot of mutual understanding and cooperation ahead. That's good. As for your first client, I'm the one.'


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I studied the picture of a young lady, next to her portrait. The girl looked much like her. She had called herself 'Miss.' If the young lady was her daughter, then she was probably a single mother or a divorcee. There was no picture of a man there.

There were also many jars of flower in the room, leaving no one in doubt that she loved fanciful things. A couple of minutes after I arrived the house, the maid was back.

'The madam said I should ask you what you want.'

I looked at her briefly. The purpose of my coming was business, not pleasure.

'Don't worry, I'm alright,' I returned.

She left the room again. Minutes ticked on. After another ten minutes, Madam Biola Amigos came downstairs to the sitting-room to attend to me.

'Good day, madam,' I greeted.

'Good day, Steve,' she answered. 'Sorry for keeping you waiting.'

I grinned and nodded. It was part of the job. She was in a micro skirt and spaghetti top with the strap of her pink bra showing. I thought she looked prettier and younger.

She sat down opposite me and crossed her legs. In an instance, I could see the flawless thigh that led to her mid-section.

'Why are you not taking anything? I asked the girl ...'

'Yes,' I cut in. 'I asked her not to bother.'

'I see.' She relaxed back on the black leather seat.

A look at the clock in the sitting-room showed that it was almost six-thirty.

'Yes, I asked you to come because I have a proposition for you.'

A proposition? I thought she would talk about a prospective customer!

'You looked surprised,' she observed.

I nodded. 'I actually thought I would be coming to the house of the customer.'

She smiled. 'Yes, I'm coming to that.'

I nodded again, staring at her.

'It's a business proposition,' she went on.

It was my turn to smile. I always liked business propositions.

'But it all depends on you. It depends on whether you can do it or not.'

I sighed. 'As long as it is legal and it's something I can do, I'll be in it.'

'That's good. I know you're capable and able, even at the first time I set my eyes on you.'

I nodded. Was she pulling my legs or just prodding me on? I waited for the proposition.

'The thing is this. There's a friend of mine I want to introduce you to. All she needs is your company.'

My face wore a slight frown 'Are you talking about escort service? Sorry, TMM operates purely a ponzi scheme.'

She nodded. ‘What I’m saying has nothing to do with escorting anyone or doing escort service. It also has nothing to do with your ponzi scheme. It's a complete private arrangement.

The company you're to keep is to amuse the lady, and it's mostly in the night.'
I opened my mouth. Wait a minute, what the hell was this woman talking about?




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