It was a normal Monday evening for me. I was making my way to the bank to deposit into the mother’s account the sum of fifty thousand naira I had carefully concealed in my wallet and carried around all day, the same money that had made me give a wide berth to anyone who mistakenly came a tad too close for comfort. The money was the proceeds from a small transaction I had carried out on my mother’s behalf and I knew she would not be too pleased if it went unaccounted for.
The journey to the bank saw me cross the ever-busy main road and walk into the bank closest to my residence. However, on getting there, I was greeted with the notice that the state government had ordered a closure of every organisation to enable people collect their permanent voters’ card.
Oh no, I groaned. The government just knew exactly how to put a wrench on things. I really at this point had no choice but to make the journey back home. I had barely taken a few steps, when my phone vibrated. It was Stanley calling, an old flame that never did work out. From time to time though, we hooked up for no-strings-attached sex. It had been almost six months since we were last in touch though.
I picked the call, and with the traces of annoyance still etched in my voice, I bellowed into the phone, “Hello.”
“Wow,” Stanley replied. “Na so? I didn’t expect that much hostility.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just having a bad day. What’s up?”
“Well, sorry about your day, but I was around your area and I think I saw you pass me in a hurry a few seconds back.”
“Oh don’t mind me, Stanley. I was rushing to the bank, but they decided today was the best day to shut down their services.”
“Oh, ok. Anyway, I am under the almond tree sha, come say hi to mummy.”
I had to laugh in spite of myself. One reason I wasn’t always keen on seeing Stanley was that he had an annoying habit of being extra blatant about his sexuality. Various times when we walked down the road, he would pick a call from a friend, and in his extremely loud voice, proceed to regale the caller with lurid descriptions of his sexcapades, not minding the curious stares he – and invariably, I – got.
Anyway, I hurried down to the tree of rendezvous and met him. He was looking fabulous in the tiniest flaming red bum short I had ever seen a guy wear, and a nice Ankara print shirt to go with it. After we exchanged pleasantries, he told me how bored he had been lately. In his words, he’d been unable to find a pretty good hook-up to clean the cobwebs from his mangina. Well, as the Good Samaritan that I am, I offered to do the honours. And he was more than happy to oblige.
We boarded the next vehicle to his house, and it was only when I was comfortably seated inside the bus that I remembered that I was with hard currency. A small voice told me that this was the perfect setup to lose money mysteriously, but the brain between my legs drowned out every other voice.
Stanley kept on chatting incessantly about his most recent shags, oh and boy, did he tell the details. I kept nudging him when he let out a not-too-subtle hint within the crowded bus that he’d had sex with a guy, but he either chose to ignore me, or he was starting to enjoy the attention the other passengers were starting to give him too much to care. We eventually got to his bus stop and proceeded to his house, where I met his elder sister Tamara, and her boyfriend. This must have been a new catch because the guy was not the one I met when I visited the last time. Stanley and his sister were the only ones at home, and hence, had the house all to themselves for the week. Tamara and her guy were soon inside her bedroom, while I – having decided to stay the night – quickly undressed.
Stanley was quicker than me, and it wasn’t long before we fell into each other’s arms in his room. And for the next several minutes, we thoroughly worked ourselves out. It was almost 10pm when we lay exhausted on the bed, spent from the rigours of lovemaking. My penis was extremely satiated for the time being, but I knew it would rise again at short notice to the promise of free ass.
And just then, I remembered the money left in my wallet in my jeans left pocket. Nearly gasping out loud, I ran naked to the sitting room to get it. I returned to the room and quickly counted the money to make sure it was complete. I noticed that while I was doing this, Stanley was staring at me, his eyes bugging out of their sockets.
“What is that money for?” he asked then.
“Actually, none of your business,” I replied before proceeding to keep the money in the innermost recesses of my jeans pocket. I wasn’t taking any chances. Then I put on the jeans before lying down to sleep.
“Ahn-ahn, what are you doing?” Stanley asked, suddenly aggressive. “Why are you sleeping in your jeans? Abeg take them off.”
Yeah, I thought, well it would be easier to get a dick out of a honeyed pussy than it would take to get me to take these off. I’d been a victim of pilfering gay guys a couple of times in the past, and even if I had no reason to believe Stanley would steal from me, I simply decided it would be best to err on the side of caution.
We both slept off, and the next morning, I woke to find my bed partner sullen-faced. I didn’t say anything to him concerning his mood while I showered and dressed up. However, as I was about brushing my hair, he suddenly blurted, “You are too wicked sef. After you fucked me anyhow, you can’t even give me at least ten thousand naira? I saw all the money in your wallet, and yes, I tried to steal it while you were asleep, but you kept it too far for me. Next time don’t come back here o. I have had enough. Wicked people.” And he hissed.
I was shell shocked for a few seconds before I realized that I’d had enough too. And I walked out of his house in a hurry to get me and my mother’s money to safety.
Written by Obatala