Is this real? Is this actually happening? My husband just woke me up and told me to get dressed, it is 6 in the morning. He says we are going to Paris. Paris!!! The Nigerian woman in me could not believe it. My lifelong dream is to visit exotic places all over the world but I didn’t know how to go about it.

Barely two hours later, I’m on a flight to France. I had to renew my international passport a month ago. I renewed a blank passport, chai.

On the flight, my husband finally tells me how he planned the trip. He heard about a travel website that would plan the vacation of a life for you with no stress. The name of the website is https://timbu.com/ and this website has everything you need to know about wherever you are going. It is quite different from normal travel websites because here, there is a detailed description of where you are going. In my case, Paris, there are tips on moving around in Paris, the currency, and of course, hotels.

Above is a screenshot taken from my mobile of how the page looks https://timbu.com/france

We got to Paris about 6 hours later, give or take a few minutes. The sight was breathtaking. France is definitely rich in culture, and Paris is not exempted. Walking down the streets of Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, we couldn’t help but do some shopping. And also, ate a late lunch of croissants and lattes. We didn’t quite hurry to go to our hotels to settle in cause timbu.com had already taken care of our bookings. The trip lasted for four days, each day better than the previous. I can’t wait to tell all my friends about timbu.com and how it can help you escape to any location without a lot of stress.

She smiles at me when I open the door. I’m late to class once again..My teacher is fuming, I apologize briefly and proceed to take my seat beside her. My best friend smiles even wider and asks me what my excuse is this time. I say “Babe, A queen is never late. Everyone else is simply early “..

She laughs but is silenced by a look from our teacher.. She looks beautiful today, as always. She had taken her cornrows out over the weekend, and was wearing a low puff style on her hair. I try to keep my eyes off her during lectures. We went to the cafeteria together during lunch. And I could finally hug her, she smells like heaven and her hair was unbelievably soft. I always wear locs cause I don’t have the time or energy to maintain my natural hair..

“So why were you late?”.. I hear halfway through my sandwich..Umm, you know, the usual, surfing the internet, writing and stuff.. I can’t tell her the real reason. I can’t tell my best friend that I was up all night thinking of her, and the things I could do to her body. I want to believe it’s just friendship but I am in the 12th grade and I knew the difference. I love her. But not in the way a girl should love a girl. I love her in a way that cannot be spoken out loud. I love her in a way that causes my loins to ache and my breasts to itch for her touch.. I couldn’t tell her I was up all night having so many conflicted thoughts, so many fights with myself..

My pastor says it is a sin for a woman to lie with another woman. I don’t know what I believe anymore. I wish, oh so strongly, that I could just ignore my feelings..that I could just pretend they weren’t there..but they are..and growing stronger with every twinkle in her eyes. I couldn’t sleep because I was imagining the way I would kiss every freckle on her delicate sin. I don’t wanna be laughed at, I don’t want people to think I’m weird. I need to tell someone about this, about how I feel. I need to find out if this is how everyone else feels. I need to know if this is normal.

Maybe I would be able to deal with it then.. I have watched Disney movies with the same plot, a handsome prince charming and a beautiful damsel in distress.. But in my mind, in my dreams, I am the prince. She is my damsel. Oh Lord, what am i doing? Why am i thinking of these things? Why did you make me different? Why can’t i just be normal? Why can’t i be like my mates? Why do i feel these things? Why am I in love with my best friend? Save me, Lord.

Oh no. What is she doing now? I can’t see through the blindfold but I feel an ice cube on my clit. And quite unbelievably, I have another orgasm. To think I almost didn’t come. According to her, this was just the tip of the iceberg. Nice play on words, don’t you think.? I feel her tongue warming up the parts of me that still stung from the ice. She sucks on my clit, lapping up my juices even as it gets replaced almost immediately..Her tongue thrusts in out of me repeatedly, purposefully, driving me to climax and breaking down all the walls and doubts I had. Her tongue is briefly replaced by the index finger on her left hand.. She uses her right hand to tease my beaded nipples and gives each of my breasts a satisfying squeeze..Her thumb circles and presses down on my clit. Bringing me to a very earth shattering high..my fifth orgasm in two hours. I am spent.

Empty, vacant , void, spaced out . . Okay, maybe the last one is a bit out of shape/ or out of tune. . Who knows? The point is . .

I’ve been feeling rather distant to myself and yes, i know that’s not a thing but i feel like i’m lost or rather in a black hole .

And just falling , falling into the dark abyss of neverland. A never ending rush of air and not the good kind of rush. How do I feel? I don’t know. Unbothered? Calm? Happy even? I don’t know.

Sometimes I feel like, I’m just going through the motions, like I’m not present. Like I’m watching a show. The show is my life. I can’t even act a role. I just watch helplessly.

And other times, I feel like I have no beginning and no end. I guess I’m getting closer to God lol… I don’t know where I am right now, or where I want to be or what I am. And that truly scares me, because the society has made it unacceptable not to know.

He’s back. With my cookies and cream ice cream which he never forgot once I told him. He is like a reservoir of knowledge. Fucking lexipedia. I love him to death and his beauty still makes me stare. My wedding is in two weeks and I am shit scared and tired too. And that’s why I’m swearing. Excuse my language. But I do not have cold feet. Cold feet Kwa? Nibo? His love for me keeps my feet toasty and warm. I am scared because I am a little young. I just finished youth service and even though I am well employed (I’ve been working since my part two). I’m a full stack android developer, I currently have two well-paying jobs and I’m also a freelancer from time to time. Ikemefuna is a child psychologist. And a part time medical researcher. We make a great team.

    ‘Babe, you ready to go?’ he says, breaking me out of my reverie. ‘Yeah sure’. We walk out of my sister’s place into his car. My sister lives alone since I moved to Ikemefuna’s place six months ago. We’re building a house in Lekki but we’re not billionaires, so it can take its time abeg.

    ‘Do you want me to make dinner or would you rather we get something to eat on the way?’ ‘Not in your condition, we’ll order in’ he says with a knowing smile on his face. I’m two months pregnant and he has been pampering me more than usual. The expression on his face was priceless when I told him I was pregnant. When his slow driving butt finally got home, the first thing we did was take a nice bath to wash away the stress of the day. . . . I’m just kidding. We had porn sex.

THE NEXT MORNING.

    ‘Hey baby, sleep well?’ he murmured against my ears. ‘Yeah, you?’ ‘Hm hmm. I have to go now, big day ahead. I love you’ ‘yeah whatever’.

    ‘Yeah whatever’ were my last words to my fiancé, he died that morning. Car crash. The shock made me miscarry. And I’m still not in my right senses; I don’t think I will ever be normal again.

THE END. Yes, this is a love story. It’s just not typical.

He walked me to my place, gave me his card with the cockiest smile on his face, which it turned out was only for me. I stared at his name as I bumped into the door… I walked down the gloomy corridors, which suddenly didn’t seem so gloomy anymore. I could see love ahead or in a worst case scenario, plenty of sex. His name was Ikemefuna Hamilton. I was thinking about how beautiful the name Hamilton will look next to my ugly name.. Yep, that is me. Always daydreaming.

My sister was sowing baby clothes for our niece, Zola, when I got back into the apartment and as usual, our mini flat was turned upside down and inside out. She has got to win the award for best disorganizer of the century. So anyways, I told her all about ikemefuna and of course, she had to remind me that ikemefuna died in “THINGS FALL APART” by Chinua Achebe. Such a bitch.

THE PRESENT.

    It’s been 3 years since that rainy Tuesday and I still can’t get enough of him. I’m with my sister for my final dress fitting. Ikemefuna went to get ice cream and waffles for us cause he’s not supposed to see the bride before the wedding day. Yes you guessed right, my sister is making my wedding dress and it is exquisite. Fake diamonds, fake pearls, like I said, exquisite. And also, ikemefuna and I are getting married! Yay!

    Right now. I’m reminiscing, and trying to think of all the big moments in our life since the day we met. The day I called him, he was all apologetic and fumbling and shit thinking I wouldn’t call cause I was mad he didn’t ask for my contact and in my mind, I was all like nigga, we have to wait for three days. Did you not learn anything from Barney?

    Our first date was a total disaster. This time, the rain wasn’t romantic. It was just rain. And before the date, I might have stalked him a ‘little’ on social media so he was a little scared of me and all I did was ask him if his late uncle’s wife, aunt Chidinma was coming to Christmas considering the bad blood between her and his mom. Fucking pussy.

Thanks for reading, come back for more.

This is a typical love story. Nothing more, nothing less.

THE BEGINNING.

“Take an umbrella, it’s going to rain” my sister shouts through the dingy hallway minutes after I left the apartment. I still hadn’t forgiven her for eating my ‘dodo’ last night. I swore under my breath and shouted back at her”yeah, like you’re God” and hurried out of the building. My sister and I had been living together for about three years now in a mini flat in town. She was doing her masters in Human Resource Management in the campus where I studied. She infringed a lot but she was still my best friend.

I planned to go to the library to go return some books and take a stroll afterwards. The library was just 15 minutes away so I could walk to and fro quite easily. On my way back home, A slow rumble of thunder alerted me of the ‘sharpally’ darkening clouds, shit, the bitch was right, it was going to rain and I was wearing a ‘dev’ t-shirt and jeans, my only consolation was that I was on natural twists that week so my hair was at least sort of safe. It would still take me 10 more minutes before I get home and suddenly, 10 minutes seemed like a lifetime. In a few seconds, I realized I was no longer getting wet. My head was covered by a black umbrella with blue stripes and holding it was one of the cutest guys I had ever met, damn, he had a Yoruba demon look in his eyes, oh his eyes, hazel and blinking.. at…at me. His mouth was moving too, but I paid no attention to what was coming out. His lips were pink, pink! And it’s quite obvious that this color wasn’t forced out by chemicals like some of the fuckboys these days. His lashes, I was so jealous of his perfect, elegant long lashes. His hair, jet black and curly, he probably relaxed it and left it uncombed and so it was messy but hot… he was a walking god and I had turned from a tech savvy woman to a slumbering and blubbering idiot. He was Ibo upon inspection but I never stopped calling him my Yoruba demon.

“So do you live around here?” I managed to catch these few words despite my unholy thoughts about this guy who could be gay or have a girlfriend. “y-yeah” I replied still stuttering. “I live in that next street” I said with a much steadier tone. I barely made it through the rest of the conversation but I got a few details, 1. He is hooooot. 2. He is hooottt 3. He is hoottttt. Okay, I’m just kidding, I totally got distracted by his eyes.

To Be Continued…

Hi guys, there has been this debate with my coursemates about people that cover up their boobs .. Do you think it’s cheating to open up your boobs for everyone to see? Or do you think it is simply part of life? Where does cheating start then? Is cheating simply bringing in of foreign materials? Cause a lot of people find it annoying, stupid even to see people covering their boobs. They go as far as to dislike such a person. And for what, because such a person has high morals, or standards? What do you think?

I know the question you’re about to ask. And yes, I meant books. But no, it wasn’t a typo. Have a pleasant day. 😏

Hey guys, Welcome to my chan…..lmao, hell no. We ain’t doing that. Not that I have a problem with youtubers or people that say that, I just do not think it would  sound well with my medium pitched but still a bit froggy voice. I have given a lot of thought(perhaps too much thought) to what my first blog post would be about and how it would be inspiring and captivating and all that crap. 

So I thought, why not tell a story? It’s a real life story, no jokes.  Now, lemme say first of all that I do not have a problem with physical touch, I crave it, matter of fact. I’m not comfortable with someone’s body casually touching mine in a confined space, (eg bus) but I manage on account of being the nice person that I am. I just don’t know why I was irritable this particular day, I was going from Ife to Ibadan, and because I was trying to avoid as much physical touch as possible, I sat down in the front seat with the driver. I was the first one to get there, so I sat on the main seat and left the middle seat for the next person. So this hanty comes and politely asks if someone is sitting beside me. I thought, she looks pleasant enough, why not ask her to join me? I said yes. Worst decision I made on this trip. 

Next thing I know, hanty decides that because her bag is white, she can’t put it on the floor, it has to be on the seat. Who the F carries a white bag when travelling tho??! I told her she was already putting her bag in my seat and that it was disturbing me, she had the audacity to tell me that my whole body cannot fit into all that space. I was pained. She shifted it eventually after seeing the look on my face. Then she called her boyfriend and told him she was about to leave Ife, there were only five people in a 12-sitter bus but who am I to judge? Hanty did not only make the call as loud as she could, she had arms swinging..honestly, how could there be so much body movement while making a phone call? Haba. 

Anyway, trip started and hanty fell asleep after 10 minutes, hurray? Hell no. She was basically falling on me, with her big ass head.. Like sis, I don’t know you. I think you have nice boobs but I don’t know you, and where I come from, it’s not very polite. 

Thank you for reading. Stay tuned.😁