Guys, remember when I said I will put a stop to SDC if I saw people consciously neglected Squadi for it and we all agreed? Well, looks like that time is now cos what I feared has happened. The stats don’t lie. SDC will be stopped until further notice. This is the last episode till whenever Squadi ends. Thanks.


I have been waiting for Sarah for hours. I called her earlier and she said she’d meet me here at this Bar built right in the middle of the sea.

I offered to send my Driver and she insisted on coming here by herself. I guess it was because she wanted to keep me waiting.

It has been three hours I have been sitting by myself at a Table, my companion the half empty bottle of champagne in front of me.

The Bar is silent, save from the jazz music playing quietly from the speakers. The owner of this place, a German friend, opened it some months ago. Built not too far from the shore, the Bar stands firmly in the middle of the Atlantic.

Like you may have guessed, it is not for the fainthearted and for people who earn salaries. Don’t get me wrong, but this is for the Elite, the wealthy – not the rich, the powerful and the people who are willing to spend without holding back.

Not too many people are aware of its existence and I guess it adds to the mystic.

I glance at my rolex and when I look up, Sarah is being led to my table.

She looks pretty in a black leather dress with what I assume is faux fur around the neck.

Her legs are fitted into a pair of brown boots and she does look like a fashion girl for real.

I stand and draw out a chair for her when she approaches me. She sits, her eyes on me for a long second before she asks, “Why am I here?”

I don’t say anything. I take her in, the whole of her. She is going to be mine but the wait is killing me. I want to take here right there and then, spread out her legs and thrust into her as fast as my body wants her.

“You can go back if you don’t want to stay” I say, aware that she could actually stand and leave but at the same time, unwilling to have her speak like she was forced to be here.

She wants to be here because she wants to, I did not force her. So I will not let her speak to me like she’s the only girl with a pussy in the whole of Lagos.

She eyes me, her eyes fall on the bottle of champagne in front of us.

“You want some?” I ask

“That would be nice” she responds.

“Anything else you want? They have amazing seafood here”

“I am not a fan of seafood, makes me puke” she replies, grabs the Bottle of champagne and fills my glass. She reaches for the pale liquid almost immediately after she has filled it to the brim and gulps it.

“Tough day?”

“Toughest day I have had in a while”

I try to imagine if her day had anything to do with Scott White. Scott is currently having it bad with his divorce; his wife threatening to walk with half of the things he owns, so the possibility that he is taking that out on his staff is very plausible.

“Scott is suddenly a Slave master” she mutters, “And it’s killing me”

“Sorry” I say to her, she nods.

“Wanna let out the steam?”

She holds my gaze. I am not sure what she is thinking but I have an idea she knows what I am thinking.


We both leave the Bar in haste, get on the boat that takes people to shore and end up in the backseat of my car in minutes.

She drags me by my collar and crushes her lips into mine just as I lock the doors. I am surprised but the taste of her lips and her body crushing hard against mine trumps my surprise immediately.

She is a good kisser, her tongue interlocks mine, her mouth draws on my lower lip and she explores my mouth like a curious Tourist.

Deftly, her fingers unbutton my shirt, her hands running through my chest. I harden against her, realizing my want for her is becoming overwhelming.

I want to bury myself deep inside her but this is not the place, neither is it the time.

I shove her off me gently.

The disappointment on her face is as obvious as a bold tattoo.

“What now? You don’t want to fuck anymore?” she asks.

“I do. But not now and not here”

She scoffs, “Where and when?”

I had plans to make her beg, I did not have plans to hand control to her. Kaycee had too much of that in the past and see where it left me; a man so broken, he’s messed up.

“Get in the front seat” I order and unlock the doors.

We both make for the front seats, I take my place behind the wheels and she, beside me.

I am going to drive her to my house and fuck her silly on my kingsized bed.

There is no way I am going to do her for the first time in a car and with her having all the control.


The ability to hold back when a woman you want is ready for you should be a super power on its own.

I want to screw Sarah so bad and the walk from the front door to the bedroom seems to be a long journey all of a sudden.

The moment the door shuts, she shoves me against the wall, her hands fiddling with my belt.

Before I can find the words, her mouth has found my cock and her lips her working it slowly.

I shut my eyes tightly for a second, unwilling to give her control but at the same time, losing myself to her.

“Sarah” I manage to call and she looks up at me, a sly smile on her pretty face.


She obeys and I sweep her off her feet, my legs running up the stairs into my bedroom. I push the door open and throw her on the bed. No other woman has being on this bed since my former sugar mummy or whatever you choose to call her and Kaycee.

And I wish I can say why exactly Sarah is getting the luxury of lying in it but I can’t. And I do not want to.

I pull up her dress, unzip it and unhook her bra.

Her boobs are fresher than a glass of pure juice and her nipples are begging to be sucked.

My lips find them and I suck hard on them, my fingers working their way into her moist insides.

She moans my name, her hand stroking the back of my head.

There is no holding back anymore, I am going to screw her now and I will worry about why I couldn’t hold on later.


I roll off the bed and almost stumble at the voice of my mother. Shamelessly dragging my pants, my hands fiddling with the zipper, I drag my gaze to her. Why in the name of tomatoes is she in my house and right here in my bedroom?

A look of disapproval is plastered on her face and she eyes Sarah who is now sitting up on the bed, pulling up her zip.

Sarah is not as nervous as I am and I don’t blame her. She gets to escape my mother’s thorough investigations later, I don’t.

“So this is what you do now?” her hands her on her hips, the disapproval has given way to irritation and I know I am not going to hear the end of it till the end of the year. Unluckily for me, we are still in May.

“No” I say and then hurriedly mutter a greeting in Yoruba “E kaale mummy”

She ignores the greeting, her eyes have fallen on Sarah again. “You, does your mother know you’re here opening legs like the gate to a supermarket?”

Oh no.

“Actually, she’s dead” Sarah replies blandly. She is staring at my mother blank faced, clearly unmoved by the whole situation playing out in front of her. I am not sure if I want to laugh or caution her.

Her dress is fully zipped now, her legs crossed while she watches my mother and I.

My mother is thrown back by her response and it takes her a few minutes to recover.

“Please come and be going to your house, Aunty” she says to Sarah before she turns and storms out of the door, her hands adjusting the iro of her Ankara iro and buba.

“Your mom just walks in here when she likes?” Sarah asks, she is pissed.

“No. I wasn’t expecting her. She lives in Akute and she hardly comes here. I don’t know what this is about” I reply. Sarah shakes her head, stands and makes for the door.

“Such a turn off” she says to me as she nears the entrance.

My eyes fall on her booty, I still want all of that tonight but that has been made impossible by my mother.

What a cockblocker.

“Please tell your Driver to come drop me at home, mummy’s boy” Sarah says just before she disappears through the door.

I exhale sharply. My mother better be ready to tell me why she suddenly surprised me with her presence at night while I was trying to bed the only woman I have wanted badly since Kaycee.

I make for the door.


AKT ha✨s never struck me as a mummy’s boy. I know he has a thing for sugar mummies but who would have thought that his real life mother will saunter in through the door while we were trying to get it on?

Such melodramatic behavior meant for Soap Operas. I fight back the urge to say something silly to him. However, I am done visiting him and doing whatever almost happened between us tonight.

I am not going to hook up with a man whose mother will be coming to check on us every single second.

When I reach the sitting room, she is sitting, tapping her feet impatiently, a lady near her.

I am curious but I say nothing. The girl looks strongly familiar though.

“What is your name?” His mother asks me, her question accompanied by a you-better-answer-me-or-get-smacked look.

“Sarah” I reply just as AKT strolls in. He stops dead in his tracks when he sights the girl near his mother.

“Cynthia what the fuck are you doing here?” he seems pissed and I am very interested in this drama.

“Language!” his mother chides, then waves him to a seat.

Angrily, he takes a seat.

“You’re responsible for her pregnancy, yet you’re sleeping with another girl just some rooms away”

I gasp. I cannot help myself. He has a baby on the way and he is… disappointment floods through me like a road in Lekki on a stormy day. I am not sure why I feel that way.

“How did you know about this?” he asks his mother through gritted teeth. He is undoubtedly angry, even the blind can see it.

“Is that what you should be concerned about? Akintunde, did I raise you to be an irresponsible man?”


“Answer my question!” she yells and AKT shakes his head. “So why did you refuse to take responsibility of your first child?” there is a long stretch of silence and I think that reminds AKT’s mother of my presence in the sitting room.

Her gaze falls on me and she says, “My dear, get out of here. We are about to discuss a family situation”

I nod slowly and obey.

I don’t get tied up in family situations and this is goodbye to me and AKT.