Calling All Side Chics…Please proceed to the Incinerator


I didn’t know what to make of his palm in my face; his lips were still moving but for some bizarre reason his leading statement ‘know your role woman!’ kept ticking in my head like his damn coo coo clock. I was waiting on the bird to burst out of my brain with some deep understanding of the statement.

An entire year of my life summed up in four words- ‘know your role, woman….’

What role exactly? I tried all efforts not to stand there, like a moron, but save the body spasms and saliva oozing from the corner of my mouth, I couldn’t help myself.

Like an outer body experience, I felt him tug at my arm and in less than 60 seconds his huge oak door was shut in my face.

Suddenly made aware of myself, I realized our all was lying at my feet and at the bottom of the stairwell, and some right in the street….well before the crack head dodgyly made away with the shirts and phone I bought him in Italy.

Slowly made aware of my surrounding, I began to ask myself if we ever dated or if it was all made up in my head…

Kunle and I met at an acquisition meeting, his company was bidding to take over mine, well not bidding they owned it, we were there to beg them to spare our necks.

You already know, my cleavage was on point, as well as my stilettos, even I knew I wasn’t doing down with the ship.

I made eye contact, firm handshakes and of course the ever so casual but deliberate butt rolls as I sashayed to my seat.

Eighty minutes later, we were done, I was retained, the ship sank and I was on top of my sheets heaving and sighing, sweaty yet sexy, kindled by some bizarre fire by the man beside me.

“You resume at 9:00am. The first thing you must do is report to my office…”he buttoned and zipped, kissed on the cheek and was out the door faster than he had cum.

Now, I know what you’re thinking; of course it wasn’t bound to last, men love the hunt, they want a woman they can chase and romance and crap….. Save the psychology babble for someone with an actual conscience.

Back to my story, work was in no way awkward and that’s what made me love him even more!

I admit now, that perhaps I should have been concerned that the only time I had ever been to his house was that one night when….well even if anything was odd, we were too drunk, I was too hot and only got to see the bedroom anyways.

Kunle and I wined and dined from Morocco to Seychelles, Australia to Japan, it was magic and I was in love. Everyone knew about us, everyone envied us, well me! But imagine my rude shock, when this lady who in another life could have been my friend (shoe game was sick- I cant hate) storms into my office to unceremoniously announce that I was the side chic-jump off- maintenance crew to her man.


9 thoughts on “Calling All Side Chics…Please proceed to the Incinerator” by Mobola (@mobola)

  1. Didn’t really get the hang of the story…and the beginning was a bit confusing

  2. the words seemed like they were running into each other without reprieve

  3. I will comment only my reserve for now.

  4. Maybe being on ‘word count’ took the juice out of the story. The ‘rambling’ at the beginning will make sense if/when we get to the ‘bottom’ of the story…i think…

  5. It felt like one was on sled rushing down steep, rough hills.
    But it could be a style. Anything goes in fiction, as long as it is understood.
    I understood.

    1. it’s a style I believe @kaycee, and a darn tedious one, @mobola, the pause should resume sometime I want to believe, if it does, do pass a message along with it…

  6. i understood too… the sudden mad adrenalin rush of a story of a ”spare-tyre” woman in a company executive’s life.. what did she expect before? to stay, or marry him?

  7. See you later.

  8. there’s more right ?
    and everything was everywhere, and a little quick.
    I didn’t drink in the main character or the character of Kunle either..

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