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http://www.oliviangene.com/2017/03/my-facebook-crush-episode-2.html

Emmy as I fondly called him was a guy I met on facebook. The first thing that caught my fancy where he was, were his numerous intellectually quipped posts on Facebook. He always had a way of stringing words together that usually make imaginations real. His sense of humour reflected in his posts too. There was nothing not to like about him. To sum it up, I discovered he was handsome the day i went through his photos. It is quite rare to see an intelligent fine guy. I can't recall how we became friends, either I added him through a comment he left on a friend's post. Or the reverse.
I took it a task upon myself to like all his posts. I desperately wanted him to notice my efforts or probably to just be aware of my existence. At a time, it seemed he doesn't give a hoot about me. I wasn't pained but swore I'd keep on with what I was doing till he notices. He had so many friends particularly female, most of whom seem caustic. It's banal for ladies to show undying fondness for guys on Facebook especially for some intellects like Emmy. They were like bees buzzing around him, waiting to sting whoever makes a move to touch their honey pot.

The situation momentarily threw me off guard. I asked myself why they wouldn't give him a breathing space to notice others. It was a flashback of what happened in my Secondary school. The Emeka in my primary school was good. He always stayed atop class in every examination we took. It became norm and customary for him to always collect gifts as the best Student. He intimidated us all with his intelligence. He was admired by all and sundry. There was no debate or competition held in school that he doesn't partake in.

I remember always looking up to him. I wanted to be his friend, I craved learning his reading skills and also for him to be my friend. Who wouldn't want to be friends with such person? All the girls in class back then were always blushing anytime they were opportuned to get an "hello" from him. Myself included. Not only was Emeka smart and intelligent but he was handsome. He was a masterpiece. I was young but it didn't stop me from knowing that bit. He had wide gorgeous eyes and his jawline looked like that of a Jewish man. His nostrils looked like they were sculpted. All the girls nurtured the notion of becoming his friend.

It got serious that most of the girls bribes him bribes with their snacks during break period which he never refuse to collect. I can now categorise that action as demeaning. That was the kind of behaviour that degrades someone's values.

There was an incident that happened which was engraved in my heart. Grace, a new girl in my class couldn't take it no more. She made up her mind not to be cooped by her feelings and took it upon herself to draft a note to Emeka. It happened in basic 6. We were all seated when a note came from behind to be given to Emeka. It didn't contain much, just carelessly written words. The note read thus:


Dear Emeka,

My name is Grace. Hope you are fine. I'm writing this to tell you that you are a good boy. Please can you be my friend?

Grace.

Emeka being the typical human parrot he was couldn't hold himself from mocking the hell out of Grace. He did well to inform everyone in class. The note was monotonously passed from seat to seat with snickers and laughter. Grace turned red. Embarrassment clearly written on her fair face. Grace wasn't someone you can call ugly. She was chubby and had piercingly nice eyes. She wasn't tall and from a stance, one can deduce the height future held in stock for her. Not more than 4.8ft.

The incident made Grace miss school for a whole week. It wasn't about what Emeka did but the whole girls in class became her enemy. It was like she just got admitted in school and came to snatch their wonder boy. One particular girl named Stacey carried the matter on her head. She was Emeka's die hard fan. She was always acting like Emeka was her king and she, the queen. I didn't criticise Grace but I remember admiring her guts.

Though i never hated Emeka because of the way he treated Grace, I became more cautious about the way I responded to his greetings. If he can do that to pretty Grace, then what about me that looked like a Tom boy?

I wasn't much like a girl while I was growing up. I looked like a boy or so they told me. I didn't care much, I played football with boys. I saw myself no different from them. I enjoyed their company more than I enjoy staying with girls. I hardly mingle with girls because of their constant gossip, and jealousy that emanates from liking the same guy they did. So the convenient thing was to avoid them totally.

As I reminisced on the experience Grace had with Emeka, I wondered if my crush on Facebook would behave in such manner since they literally share same name.


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http://www.oliviangene.com/2017/03/my-facebook-crush-episode-2.html

The sun was blazingly hot lashing it's tongue on whoever that dares to step out for whatever reason. I sat in the staffroom, my eyes glued to my phone. Engrossed with "The Travails of Maddie" when I heard shouts from outside.


What could possibly be causing such chaos in a school environment that should be as quiet as a graveyard I queried, albeit not referring to anyone in particular. I reverted back to what I was reading.

Students were running helter-skelter. Their shouts becoming too distracting. Then I paused, dropped my phone in my bag and decided to peek from the window pane. The window blinds were too dusty, I wasn't inclined to touch them, I beckoned on the other Corper to help me shift it to a corner. I needed to get a glimpse of what goes on outside.

The view was clearer. No obstruction. I held my breath and pursed my lips in puzzlement. Trying to decipher what was happening. The other Corper took interest too. He stood beside me and we looked together. The S.S. 3 boy was holding unto her brassiere. His eyes were bloodshot. His disgruntled voice thundering..

Continue reading ...http://www.oliviangene.com/2017/02/chronicles-of-kwara-state-corper.html?m=1

...

Please don't stop, I whispered as my eyes pierced into his with sheer ecstacy. My body arched up as I clutched steadily to the sheets. Without second thoughts, he obliged and tucked the strand of hair protruding to my forehead behind it's pony. It was all I needed to know he wouldn't abandon me to the cold hands of the night.


He came on upon me, his eyes peeked to meet mine. The fragrance emanating from the sprayed Cologne on his body hung on air. I allowed myself to gulp in, savouring every scent. He shifted his bulky weight so i wouldn't be crushed under him. His size mattered not to me as the desire to have him inside me tugged at my heart.

In what seemed like an eternity, he merely sat in bed and looked deep into me like he was searching for solutions to his problems. For a second, I dreaded he won't be nice enough to initiate that kiss. A longing that was too much for me. Then it happened. In a daze, his mouth covered mine. At first it was an innocent kiss. I liked the taste of his lips on mine. He tasted of dry gin and the other I certainly can't recall. His kiss deepened. He nibbled at my ears, then his tongue trailed down my neckline. It was a sizzling sensation. One I wasn't eager to relinquish. I wanted the moment to last for eternity.

My fingers pushed into his backbone. I encouraged him to go on. I nudged him. I was wallowing in pure ecstasy. Actions influenced his arousal which I already noticed from the way his joystick stood longingly and hard begging for a hole to fill it.

Then I woke up. I was wet. I sat abruptly in my bed and tried to recall what his faced looked like. It was becoming an impossible venture as his face fades anytime I'm close to grasping it. It wasn't the first time I've had such dreams.

Mother had berated me for having to dream about men in such manner. It was only the devil that can make one have such dream. The first time I opened up to her, she had thrown a fist. Then she asked that I get ready to meet an exorcist...a Pastor in that manner who would pray over me so that the spirit husband would go away as she termed it... continue reading here ...

http://www.oliviangene.com/2017/02/the-dream-short-story-by-olivia.html