Sunday, 3 May 2015

Another block buster story from Ebuka 'The Walk of Shame'

The walk of shame‘.
Those three words suddenly made all the sense in the world as Alex crept through the 2nd floor corridor of Queen Dora Hall trying his possible best to escape the notice of his devil-incarnate cousin, Chisom who lived on the same floor as Onyinye, the girl from whose room he commenced this early morning creep walk session. Chisom had told him times without number that he couldn’t lay it on Onyinye even if she was a table in Vegas and he was the last card dealer alive. Of course Alex thought otherwise and he had his chance to finally prove his stupid cousin wrong, he finally got home-access after weeks of tensioning the girl.
This was the morning after and he now realized that he couldn’t have been more wrong. For some reason that still eluded him, Onyinye thought “you know girl, we could spend the night at yours watching Game of Thrones” really translated to two straight adults of opposing sexes cradled up alone in a room all night doing nothing more than watch episodes of the nail-biting epic series. He still couldn’t tell which hurt more, the sting of the slap with which she replied his kiss attempt or the friend-zone-bomb she dropped in her apology for ignorantly leading him on. Her exact words still rang clear in his head,
“You’re such a sweet guy Alex, I wouldn’t want us to ruin this perfect friendship we’ve got going”.
“Perfect friendship keh? Bitch are you a retard?!” He remembers replying in the angriest, loudest imaginary tone.
Alex was certain even his ordained Deacon of a father would disown him if news got to him that his first son spent the night with a hottie and all the skin-to-skin action he got was her palm temporarily transposing her fingerprints on his right cheek, face cheek to be precise. In between composing the best ‘i-dint-hit-it’ excuse for the homeys, pondering over half a dozen ‘where-did-I-go-wrongs’ and cursing Onyinye for facilitating the world’s most shameful walk of shame yet, Alex raced down the stairwell and made for the gate, grateful that he’d successfully dodged his cousin.

‘Fuck!’ It was amazing how the same word which days ago she could’ve sworn would never proceed from her two baby-pink Angelina-jolips, as Chisom called them, was all that ran through her mind in quick continued succession this morning… as well as her mouth in loud pheromone-mediated bursts last night. However the latter she remembers was punctuated by the words ‘me’ and ‘harder’ at irregular intervals.
‘Fuck’. She thought again, letting it mature into whisper this time as she bit her lips.
Boy, did this Chisom guy hit it good or what. Whenever she was with him she forgot all about her values. She forgot that she was the best soloist in her church’s choir. She forgot that she was the class pastor in her departmental Christian fellowship. All she wanted to do was let him rip her clothes, like he always did… and take her however damn well he pleased, like he always did. She knew that there was no possible happy ending to this thing but she couldn’t say ‘stop’, and mean it, and Chisom knew that. He wasn’t even in the same area code as a gentleman. To him the term Mr Nice Guy was nothing more than a dumb movie title, which is all the more reason why she was bewildered by the fact that he had offered, even insisted on walking her down to the gate. Once again blinding herself to every ray of common sense, she obliged.
They’d been there for about 5 minutes now, her back against the gateman’s cubicle and her butt cheeks firmly cradled in Chisom’s palms as he whispered sweet nothings to her in between kisses on the cheek, neck and lips.
“Chisom stop…” She moaned lightly, in a weak attempt to get him to let her go.
“You know I know you like it baby” whispered Chisom as his hands found their way into her jeans, already moist at the middle seams.

Nearing the gate, Alex could hear moans and whispers, and even though it wasn’t bright enough to see clearly he was sure it wasn’t the gateman getting rid of his morning wood. It was definitely two people getting it on this early and giving him even the more reason to rain a hurricane of mental cusses on Onyinye.
They pulled apart too late, the guy was just inches from them now. How could she not have heard him coming, or did she? Was she so lost in Chisom’s finger treats that she forgot she had a reputation to uphold? She could already hear the gossip mill spinning nonstop with her tape, ‘that half-caste church girl… omo she sef dey collect oh!’
She could swear this guy looked familiar, there was something about the look on his face, something more than the pure amazement of stumbling upon two horny, shameless youths starting their day in good terms with the devil.
Just when she almost figured, Chisom called his name with a coy, knowing smile plastered on his face.
“Alex, hehe, meet my errm, hehe, meet my class pastor, Rolake.” His grin widening by the second he continued, “Rolly, Alex my cousin… who judging by the look on his face and the haste in his step dint have a night as errm blessed as ours.”
“Jeez Chisom, you’re such an arse!” retorted Rolake irritated by the loud cackle that accompanied and endured after Chisom’s last three words.
“I know right” replied Chisom. Then, looking at Alex, “have fun sharing your walk of shame with my whitey, haha! As you can see she enjoys kissing arse”.

Watching Chisom bounce back towards his room made both Alex and Rolake speechless with anger, but even the more speech impeding was the fact that his swagger had transformed suddenly into a stagger. Eyes wide open with shock, Alex saw it. Chisom’s sky-blue tee shirt was marred with a thick dark red liquid which apparently started flowing from just above the small of his back.

Alex heard Chisom call to him in a frail voice through the still dim early morning, “Cuz!”

“What the fuck have you done!” said Alex to Rolake in a shout-ish whisper as he now saw her right hand.

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