‎'So will you be in church tomorrow?' Amaka asked me. 'I will try.' 'Okay.' She raised one hand and waved at me. 'I will be going now, bye bye.' 'Bye bye,' I said. I watched her walk down the street, as quietly and innocently as she always walked. As she always behaved. For many times I had wanted to talk to her, to toast her. I liked her, so much that I had jerked off with her once. I had imagined her n»ked, wild and sinful. Just like me. She was doing all sorts of crazy things to me and after I released, I felt guilty. Like I had just raped a girl in my mind. An innocent girl who obviously was still a virgin. And this was the reason I never approached her with my feelings. You see, I kind of hate virgins. They are so inexperienced, restrictive, and tight. For a guy of adequate endowment like me, experience matters. As lucky as I've always been, I've been finding such women. Lizzy enjoyed having two d¡cks at a time. So each time she called, I always went along with Tobi. Josh hated threesomes, the two guys to a girl kind of threesome. According to him, he hated sharing kits. Call him up if it's just him and several other ladies and he is in. Such a selfish brat. During the act, I would allow Tobi to go first, with his pencil-sized d¡ck. I know how Lizzy must be feeling the times he was inside her while she sucked me. She only endured him, the prickle of his pencil. I know from her undemonstrative face. One day she pushed him off before the poor guy could even climax, and asked me to take her. 'Take me,' she had said. I did not only take her. I occupied her. Totally! Betty was another girl with amazing experience. We met on Facebook, from a group called S3x Lovers or Lovers of S3x, can't remember precisely now. We started chatting dirty from the first day we added one another. And later that night she sent me slit pics. Clean-shaven healthy-looking c~nt. I asked her to show me her red skin and she agreed. Soon another picture dropped in. With the excitement a pensioner would use to open the envelope containing his cheque, I clicked on the picture. She had used two fingers to spread the slit, displaying clean red flesh. So inviting was it that I nearly licked my phone. Eating p~$$y is a favourite of mine. So also is being spanked in the a$$. I love a little of domination from a lady. That may exactly be the reason I sought only experienced ladies. I like girls that can take charge. Girls that can command me. Girls that can talk in the act. Not them silent, immobile logs of wood. And so I always dithered talking to Amaka. But yet, to my utter disappointment, my feelings for her only continued to grow. There were now times I dodged her, afraid that the more I saw her, the more I'm going to think about her. The more I'm going to do crazy things to her in my mind. One day, I was walking to the express to use the ATM when I saw Amaka in front walking beside some dude. From the way she walked I knew at once that was Amaka. I increased my pace. She was discussing with guy, tall and slim like a NEPA pole. I've never been that jealous in my life. When I came to their front, Amaka smiled and greeted me. Then I noticed the dude had been her brother, Tochukwu. How come he had appeared so tall from behind? I guess my mind was messing with me. Truth is, there is something about Amaka, a specialness(if there ever was a word like that) that I have not seen before. Her smile alone caused me goose bumps. No matter how spacious the blouse she is wearing was—she liked them big blouses and long skirts—you could still always tell how blessed she is up there. And, surprisingly, she knew how to package them, keep them up and going. Amaka was beauty. Josh has always been talking about this new club in town. It's in Ikeja, Opebi Road. I liked to club on the Mainland, the girls there are freer and cheaper. Not those Island girls that kept forming their lives out. Once, I followed my boys to one of the clubs in V.I. Troy, beside Oriental Hotel. This tall chic has agreed to follow me home, till we came out and she discovered we hadn't come in our own car. She hissed and thanked me for wasting her time. What is it with girls and cars anyway? Finally I told Josh we would try the new club next Friday. He had smiled and said, 'You the boss!' and I felt guilty for not telling him that it was going to be an OYO night. The boys and I took turns to sponsor our outings, but sometimes we were just too broke to remember the rules. On Thursday evening, as I was returning from the game centre, saddened by Arsenal's loss, I bumped into Amaka. She was in a short black gown and a scarf, her big Bible safe on her chest. Her bounteous chest. 'Wale, good evening,' she said. 'Evening, Amuka.' 'It's Amaka, how many times will I tell you?' She was smiling. I know, I was just playing with her. 'Yes,' I said. 'Amaka, kedu?' She seemed surprised I had said kedu. She replied 'Odi mma', and asked where I was coming from. I told her. She said okay. 'Why didn't you come to church last Sunday?' she asked. I wanted to tell her to drop church matters for now that I was not in the mood, but when I opened my mouth what came out was, 'I wasn't feeling too alright.' And I felt glad I lied. Amaka quickly came to me, her brows together in a worried look. She felt my cheek and then the other. 'Oh dear, I'm sorry, how do you feel now?' I looked at her and revelled in the deceit. I might as well tell her I have cancer if that would earn me a kiss. I was happy to learn she cared about me. Later when I got home I wanted to call her, but did not know what to tell when and if she picked. I stopped the call before it could connect. As usual, the boys and I left for the club by past 11. We like to arrive with the big boys. Maybe we are even the big boys. Because there are the bigger boys, and the biggest boys. Like every opening club, everything was amplified. The sound system boomed and you could feel the vibration as much on the floor as in your belly. Sometimes your hearing blanked out entirely and all you could feel is a really long 'woooo' sound. Some guys and babes were already on the floor feeling good. But they were the early dancers. The ones that buy a bottle of beer and quickly entered the floor, their beer bottles in their hand. I could spot some bigger boys sitting quietly in groups at one corner or the other, doing their thing coolly. As always. The lighting was good and the bar was drunk. The thick smell of all kinds of smoke mixed together was nearly suffocating. At the DJ corner, I saw the ugly dude—sometimes I wonder if ugliness is a requirement for the job. Large headphones covered his ears. He was nodding to the song, one hand in the air, the other spinning away on the controls—it was at that point when Wizkid was crying he wants the body sleeping on his bed. A friend used to say that you know the mood of the club by the mood of the DJ. In this new club, the DJ was feeling it. As with our ritual, the boys and I approached the bar for a little booze up first.  They were selling killer cocktails, some of them you could tell just how many seconds you have before you die from the colour. We got a bottle of Smirnoff Vodka and Andre. And from there we started our foundation. We were still on the first cups when Josh nodded towards the dancefloor where madness seemed  now to have come alive and said, 'No be that church girl wey dey your street be this?' I didn't bother to look. Josh has always been the fastest to depart. But today, on the first cup? Dude need some prayers. 'Na her na!' I heard Josh say again. He tapped me, 'Look.' And now I did. I actually had seemed a face, and a body, that looked like Amaka's, performing in the madness, but my mind quickly told me it wasn't her. In that top and short skirt? No way it could have been her. I watched the Amaka-looking lady rocking the slim guy behind her. She was professional and at that moment my mind cleared out all doubt. This was not Amaka. 'It's not her,' I said. But Josh would not have it. He stood and walked to the girl. She saw him and actually threw her hands around him in a hug of excitement. She had recognised him. My eyes blinked twice. I saw them pointing and then they were coming toward us. As soon as they arrived, I took Amaka by the hand and drew her outside. 'Who brought you her?' I asked her. Outside the club, the noise of music was low and one could hear another. Amaka gave me a surprised look. 'I came on my own. I didn't know you guys were coming, I would have followed you.' She sounded so normal, like I've always known she was a club girl. 'Do you club?' I asked her. 'Occasionally. Why do you ask?' 'Nothing.' I stared at her. 'So you are not a v¡rgin?' Surprise showed on her face again. 'Did I ever tell you that I'm a v¡rgin, Wale?' I shook my head. A strong feeling came over me and I grabbed her face and kissed her. When I released her and drew back, waiting for the worst—probably a slap or a punch, she only smiled, the seductive smile of experience and asked me to follow her. In the surreality, I followed her back into the club, then through a narrow hallway that led to the line of rest rooms. There were four in all, two marked Male and the other two Female. Amaka passed the rest rooms further down to another door. She had the key to the door. She opened it, entered and waved at me to come in. I pulled away one hesitant step and joined her in the room, well-arranged with a large bed and a table. Just like a standard hotel room. Inside, she was quick and direct, straight to purpose. Amaka had experience. She pulled down my jean trousers without unzipping. I didn't know how that was possible because I was not very slim. In fact my sisters used to tease me that I have hips. She did not pull down my boxers in the same quick manner she did my trousers. Instead she crouched in my front, rubbing the bulge of my shlong till it was completely up, threatening to tear away the two buttons of my boxers. She pulled it out and put me in her mouth. I felt a tickling chill, almost forcing me to laugh. I put one hand to my back and held her head with one hand, giving her all my length with great generosity. Sometimes I held her in for a while, till she made a choking sound and I released her. She would stop, drew back slightly to stare at the thick, stiff organ cracked with blood-filled veins. She would spit on it and then start to feed on it again. I liked the way she squeezed my a$$ while sucking me. Then I held her and guided her up, pulling away her short top at the same time.  I slipped my lips into hers, absently pulling off my own shirt. While our lips were still locked, I pulled off my trousers completely, my shoes still on. I put my arms round her and unstrapped her bra. The black piece of underwear fell off to the ground. I pressed her into me, feeling her hardened nipples on my chest. I liked it, the feel of the hard nuts on my skin. And if her n¡pple touched mine, I'd feel a throb of pleasure. She probably noticed I've got sensitive nipples and she pull away from the kissing bond and began sucking at my n¡pples. I find it weird that I enjoyed a girl sucking my nipples. I think it came with gyming. Enlargement of the chest causing the nipples to become more prominent, ultimately causing them to become more sensitive. As Amaka went from one n¡pple to the other, I made tiny deep moans. She bent down and started sucking at my d¡ck again. I held her and made her stop. If I hadn't, the game might end prematurely. I guided her to the bed and laid her down gently. I came on top her and sampled her br3asts. She had normal br3asts, not large, not small either. She sizzled as I began sucking her. Then she started blowing at my head. When I first got the feel of air on my shaved head, I paused and looked. Her mouth was pinched out in a small o, air surging through, like one trying to make a hot foot cold. I found this strangely motivating and I turned a baby, s~cking her now like my life depended on it. I knew she has had enough when the hissing and blowing stopped. And then I went down on her. Her pot was not as fat as I liked, but it was fresh. Smelt fresh too. Quite an adequate compensation. I spread her apart and plastered her slit with my tongue. She made a cackling sound and for a second I thought it was a laugh. As I brushed her in and out, like a painter, multiple noises emanated from her. Strange animal noises. I pulled my boxers off and knelt in the bed. She was s~cking on my d¡ck while I sorted out with the condom. I gave her some extra minutes to enjoy the sugar stick before I pulled out from her mouth and slipped the c•ndom on. I held the c•ndom ridge and rolled all the way down my thick shaft. Then I held her at the thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Like a book,  I opened her up and slotted in. She groaned, twisting her hips slightly to fully accommodate me. I gave some shallow thrusts at first before pulling back to throw my entire length deep into her. And with this came a lot of noise. From me. From her. From outside. I felt the slap again. Pa. Pa. Pa. Like from a deep pit, I heard my name. 'Wale. Wale, dide nle.' The slaps came again. Slowly, my eye lids came apart and I saw Josh, murky at first and then his face slowly cleared out. He was fully dressed and ready for the club. 'Wale, ago mokanla la wayi, oo si tii we,' he said.

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