DIARY OF A PORT HARCOURT BACHELOR 2

I came late to work today, and i told myself it was because of the mad traffic congestion at Slaughter Market. Nneka, the Igbo girl at the reception, barely answered my greeting as I wrote down my name in the log. She has been like that since I abandoned her and the three friends she brought with her one time i asked her out on a date. For once, I did not feel bad about missing out on a nice piece of meat.

It wasn’t the gridlock at slaughter though. I had such an eventful weekend that I almost did not show up for work this morning. So Ebiere came back, after the trial and error we had last weekend. Well, that was how my self-deprecating eyes saw it. Girl had so much fun that she decided to come back and get some more. Maybe I was not as unlucky as I thought.

Like before, I bought a pile of weed and a bottle of her favourite wine. Girl came on Friday evening straight from work, with an already packed bag. Even with the grime of the long day, I could swear she smelt so nice.

Konji na bastard!

She did not even waste time in undressing like I wasn’t there and stepping into the shower. When she was done, she went straight to the weed scarcely dressed. I protested sha, saying she needed to eat something before someone’s daughter slumps in my house out of hunger. But she said she already ate.

I sat still like Buddha watching her roll up the blunt and smoke it like a vintage queen. The fact she knew she was entertainment enough and made a slow show of it did wonders to my little Bura. I was madly aroused just watching her smoke and pout.

My entire body was on auto-pilot and not even a plane crashing into my house would have stopped what i wanted to happen next. I closed the gap, meeting both her red lips and the smoke they emitted. She tasted of smoke, guaranteed happiness, and raw sexiness.

Also Read:

DIARY OF A PORT HARCOURT BACHELOR 1

The kiss deepened and I was soon as scarcely dressed as she was. The series of other things that happened that night are too good to be shared on this medium but I’d summarise.

There was passion, plenty of it, ice, and then plenty licking of something something. Don’t ask questions. Man went to bed satisfied, warmed up, and happier than he has ever been in the past one year. The fun continued all through the weekend, on the couch, the kitchen table, in the shower, and on the bare floor.

Even as I stepped into my car to drive to work this morning, I felt so sore. But it was the good kind of sore.