Okay, I must admit, typing through the phone and blogging isn’t the most comfortable thing to do. I tried it tonight to see if I could surprise y’all with a new episode of SDC. I don’t think I’ll be doing it much in future. However, good news is my workshop ended today and my laptop is being fixed. Until I get it back, no writing on the phone. Lol. Enjoy.
I know him from the Blogs. Or as it were – I know of him and his mumu ways from the Blogs.
As I dump my clothes into the Washer, I remember how he had been specifically made to look like an idiot after he lost Kaycee to his cousin.
The news had made the blogs because Kaycee was involved. Generously pouring the detergent into the Machine that was going to wash my laundry, I remember how it had been reported .
“Popular Socialite Kaycee Mbah dumps lover and hooks his cousin”
I manage not to laugh as I recollect the headline and how stupid a lot of people had thought AKT to be – they thought he was very stupid.
He was the guy who delivered his wife to his cousin’s doorstep, he was the number one mumu guy, he was the guy who generated a lot of memes when stupid was mentioned.
But nobody had warned me that he is one of the most handsome and cleanest men I will ever see.
I lean on the wall near the Washing Machine and fold my arms as my mind races back to the day before.
Seeing him saunter into the Fashion House where I work had been a surprise but what had thrown me off balance and threatened to sweep me off my feet was how breathless he looked.
I bite my lower lip unconsciously, still savoring him in all his handsomeness.
I have been waiting for him to call me. I want him to call me. But I don’t think he will.
It has been seventeen hours and thirty minutes and my phone hasn’t notified me of his call or text.
I return my attention to the Machine in front of me and realise my clothes are ready to be taken out.
I have a date or is it hangout with the co-owner of the Fashion House I work at.
His name is Scott. He is biracial but like my colleagues like to say, he is more in touch with his Nigerian side than his American side.
Scott owns major shares in Oge, which is the fashion house I work at.
I met him the first day I went for an interview at the place a year before.
He had been clad in a well tailored Buba and sokoto, something I had come to realize was his signature look.
Scott White is one hell of a stylish man and he has covered GQ, modeled for Calvin Klein and is currently the face of a major perfume brand in the US.
I had been in awe of him before I met him in person – a handsome face with chiseled features, Scott had light skin that seemed so smooth it might have as well own it’s own filter.
He also has an amazing body which is a clear result of intense workouts, some of which I have experienced after sleeping in his house and yeah, fucking him.
Oh yeah judge me, Judge me.
Wait until you find out that Scott is married to a gorgeous woman, who is one of the biggest Actresses in Nollywood and who has two adorable boys for him.
But I have to admit, the day I went for that interview, I knew I was going to fuck him if he asked.
His eyes had lingered too much on my lips and then, my boobs and when he offered to open the door for me when I was leaving, his fingers had brushed my skin. He apologized. But I know he did it on purpose.
The day we first had sex, I had been working late. I was helping his partner Ade Bajowa, an ex supermodel and MBGN put some finishing touches to an expensive wedding dress which had been commissioned by an Oba’s daughter.
Scott, who also had some work of his to finish had strolled in, a smile on his face while he teased Ade for holding me back without asking permission from my husband first.
I told him I wasn’t married. He asked if I was seeing anyone, I said no.
Before Ade left, he asked me to come help him with his work.
When I bent over to cut something he had instructed, he grabbed my waist and bit my ear gently.
“Please tell me I can fuck you. Please” he’d pleaded and I would have been mad if I had said no. He is fucking Scott White for goodness sake.
I held his hand and gently guided it to my boobs.
My nipples were already standing at attention through the lacy bra I was wearing underneath my short bodycon dress.
“Fuck me” I said without thinking and he had turned me around in one swift movement, spreading my legs and easing his way into me like he was born to do it.
He fingered me first, thrusting one finger and then two into my warm and moist pussy.
Then he pushed his cock inside me, causing me to moan without thinking of the wrong I was doing.
As I pick a short, lacy black dress and a pair of gold gladiator sandals, I dash into the bathroom for a quick bath.
I am horny but I am not horny for Scott. I am horny for AKT.
It sounds stupid but I have thought of him touching me in very intimate places since he asked for my number yesterday.
Why the fuck hadn’t he called?
I pull my hair into a high bun, do a little contouring on my face and settle for a dark shade of lipstick after wearing my dress.
I am not wearing panties, I don’t do that when I know I would be fucked thoroughly.
When I eventually find Scott, he is waiting for me in one of the biggest Hotels on the Island.
He looks worried about something and hardly speaks to me before ripping off my dress and throwing me into the Kingsized bed. He fucks me roughly, with no mercy. Crushing his lips into mine, I am barely allowed to breathe as his tongue seeks mine and his lips refuse to let me catch up with his pace.
“Scott!” I scream as he continues to thrust in me roughly. “Scott, stop!” I say and only then does he slowly get a grip on himself.
He rolls over and mutters an apology. I want to ask him what the problem is but I recall a day he told me firmly he didn’t care for what is happening in m life and I shouldn’t care for his.
We don’t discuss personal matter. We just fuck.
My phone rings, I check who it is and it’s AKT.
“Hello beautiful” he says and I smile before responding.
“Good afternoon, Sir”
He laughs, “I would like to tell you I am not ‘Sir’ but you already know. So I would just say, I would like to have dinner with you by 7pm. Wear something nice and fancy. And, prepare for anything.”
As he gets off the phone, I want to tell him I am not hundred percent comfortable with the way he said the things he said like I was waiting to do his bid.
But I know better.
Scott emerges from the bathroom. He looks at me, something is bugging him but I am not going to ask him.
“I have to go” I say and grab my bag that is sitting on the foot of the massive bed.
“Something came up” I reply and head for the door as I smoothen my dress.
“Can I see you tomorrow night?” he asks as I make to turn the knob.
“Sure” I reply and step out of the room. I am excited to meet with AKT and that’s all I want to think of right now.
I make it to the house in time to pick something I think someone like AKT would like. I am straightening my hair when my brother in law pushes in through the door.
These days, he doesn’t knock again.
He stopped knocking since he accidentally (that’s what he said) opened the door days ago and saw me naked in front of the mirror.
Since then he just bursts in. Don’t ask me why.
He and my sister are having issues in their marriage. My sister is a Bitch, we don’t like each other much but she offered me a place to stay and I am grateful for that.
However I don’t care for her and her marriage. We barely talk so I would never ask why she argues with her husband at night and why he threatened to pack out of the house two days ago.
“Going out?” he asks, his eyes sweeping through my body. I nod.
“We need to talk,” he adds and I tell him we can do that when I return from my outing.
He nods slowly, inches closer, kisses me on the forehead and leaves the room.
I don’t have time to think of what he did because AKT texts me.
I find him in the exquisite restaurant where he has booked a table in a secluded corner for us.
I smile inwardly, this is the life I always wanted. This life of dining in fine Restaurants, getting the attention of a rich man and being spent on.
“I would go straight to the point, Sarah” he says after our wine glasses have been refilled and I have gotten back to eating the Shrimps in my plate.
“I want to do things to you. Things I am sure your body can handle. I want to be your Sugar Daddy. I don’t want more, you would never get more. But you would never lack anything.” he leans forward and asks, “Is that something you can do?”
I open my mouth to answer
“Hey Sarah fancy seeing you here”
I turn and I find Scott glaring at me.
Is that anger I see on his fine face?