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This 'Nothing Goes For Nothing' Life


I had planned to stay at my girlfriend's after my night out that Friday.
Unfortunately, she had to travel that same weekend. 
I had considered cancelling - I mean, having nowhere 'safe' to lay my head was a good excuse to avoid a TGIF show but my social life was non-existent and I craved new friends and activities.

"You always cancel everything interesting. Why?", I asked myself.

Elements never favoured me when it came to having fun. 
I had no car and no house of my own (my father's house is not my own please)...
No! No. No. No.
I wasn't going to let this one little fuck up ruin this Friday.
"Who can I call now?", my mind wondered as I scrolled through my contact list and BBM contacts.
I did as my mind advised, and booked myself space at a friend's for a night.

That Friday night was way awesome than I thought it would be. 
I played catch-up with old friends, met some of my Twitter DMers and exchanged numbers with 1, 2 people.
3 hours later, it was time to go home, with my friend.

*fast forward to sleep time* 
I laid calmly on the bed, stalking old friends on Instagram.
My friend kept tossing and turning every 2 minutes so I figured he was uncomfortable.
"Would you like me to sleep on the floor or something?'
He laughed. "Of course not. I'll be fine."

About an hour and thirty minutes later, I dropped my phone to sleep.
I hadn't laid still for more than 10 minutes when I felt a hand fall on the side of my right thigh.

"Eh. I don't understand. What is this?", I said to myself.

I continued to lay still to see what he was driving at. For some reason, I kept hoping he was in deep sleep and his hand didn't know what it was doing. I pushed his hand off my thigh and went back to trying to sleep.

Some minutes later, it was his leg on my thigh.

"But what is this now? I cannot sleep again because it's not my house?", I kept thinking to myself.

Not very long after, his idle hands begun circling my bosom. I was so used to this rubbish I didn't bother fighting it off.
The men with houses that I knew could not let women sleep over without touching them. Or maybe it was just me.
Maybe I was unlucky because I had a notable bossom. Or was that it? My bossom?
It didn't even make any sense.

As I laid there in 'Mahogany tree' mode and kept thinking of how ridiculous this uncle was.
How can a woman lie stiff as a dead body and you'll still want her?
How?

Expectedly, he didn't stop.
He drew me closer and I could feel his heartbeats on my upper arm.
Those heartbeats were the scariest I had ever heard.
Fucking fast heartbeats, on top this Mahogany style?

"O ga o. Were wa laye yi sha."
Direct translation: Wow. There are truly mad men in this world sha.

I gave a mental sigh but he did not hear it of course. My sigh was no match for his sporadic heartbeat.

All that forceful touching was starting to piss me off so I did the funniest thing.

I hurriedly put a hand inside my black tank top and pushed out my right tit.

I took his head and forced it on my boob and muttered, "just have it. That’s what you want right. It’s all yours”.

To my surprise, my words did not deter him.

As if the boobs were not enough, his hands gestured to go down and just got irritated.

"Bros, please sleep. I have things to do tomorrow".



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