He had been watching her for days, religiously following her every move since he had seen her at the club. At first he had been trying to determine if she was his type: unguarded. So he had begun watching her in her natural habitat; taking mental notes of her preferences, her friends, her behavior patterns and oh! did he have a lot of space up there for mental notes. He hesitated in making his move until he was quite sure she would be one of his.
She was a light-skinned goddess; although he was pretty sure most of that glow was out of a bottle. She was 5 ft 7 with perfect legs and a tiny waist with an ample bosom and a booty to match. Her full lips concealed straight, white teeth with a side-gap of which she was rather self-conscious, causing her to curl her mouth in a funny way when she spoke. He did not, in fact fancy her broad nose but at least he was thankful she didn’t have those sort of large nostrils where you could see the owner’s brain through them just at a glance. Her hair: a tawny shade of brown, which was artificial of course, suited her light complexion quite exquisitely and came right down to her waist where a tattoo of an eagle sat proudly, wings spread.
It was a wonder she hadn’t noticed him in the three weeks he had been trailing her. Naturally, she drew a lot of attention which was possibly the reason why no one had any to spare him: a lone figure always lurking behind at a safe distance with a face cap permanently pulled down low to hide the better part of his face. But then, in such a populous and busy place as Lagos who had the time to be looking over shoulders? Besides who would even believe that they would be followed by anyone? Who had such time? Well, he did.
He’d first seen her in the bathroom of a nightclub somewhere in Ikeja, with her skirt up high around her waist and her panties down between her knees. That night, he didn’t quite remember what he had been doing in the bathroom stall but he had found himself seating on the closed surface of the toilet seat with his feet up trying to avoid his “friends” and the distastefully loud music booming in the main hall of the club. Then he heard laughter and hushed voices as the main door to the bathroom swung open and shut.
“Good! The bathroom guy is gone” a female voice surprised him, soft and breathy with a slurred edge to it. At first, he figured she was drunk and had stumbled into the male’s washroom instead of the females, which had their main entrances side by side.
“You mean the washroom attendant?” a gruff male voice.
“Whatever you call it” a giggle.
“We’re in luck, there’s no one else here. Help me with the door,” there were hurried footsteps as the male voice scanned under the the stalls for the feet of would-be users,
“Pass that his chair” the distinct click-clack sound of heels on tiles was followed by a scraping noise and then a dull click.
There was rustling of clothes, a grunt, a gasp and then moaning. He heard the words, “harder” and “fuck” a couple of times before he had dared to look.
Cautiously, he had pushed up to his feet slowly, peeking over the top of the door and there he had seen her bent over by the sink being taken roughly from behind by a muscular man in a plaid shirt who was clawing at her waist and spanking her behind. She had her arms on the counter to steady herself, and he caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror: beautiful. Even in passionate abandon; with eyes half-closed and sultry red lips uttering profanities in hushed tones, while her electric blue nails clawed at the porcelain sink offering up herself on fancy 6 inch heels to be devoured.
Fascinated, he had come out of the washroom to watch her after then; taking notes of how she flirted shamelessly, intrigued by her rather deep laughter as she took shots of tequila by the bar with her friends, aroused by her suggestive dance moves. He had even overheard her name: “Shola”. He repeated it to himself quietly, letting the ‘L’ roll off his tongue, feeling the air between his teeth when he started out the ‘Sh-‘. When she left the club with her friends, he had followed them, oblivious to the fact that he hadn’t come alone. The cab had dropped her right in front of her house as he had later come to find out, where she lived alone.
In the first week, he had quickly become close to her gate-man: Okon, by endearing gifts and kind words and of course proffering his company to the rather lonely man, who couldn’t help but jump at the thought of someone to ramble to.
“Na who live for this ya house?” he had asked Okon once he had gained the other man’s confidence,
“Ah, na my Madam. You never see am?”
He had always timed his visits so he would not run into her until it was the right time.
“No” he shook his head.
“Ehnn, na she dey there. Na only she”
Rich Parents? He had mused.
“Ah, she get money o. Fine house like this” he said, gently pressing for more information that he knew the other man would be too happy to blurt.
“Taaa, which money?” Okon spat on the ground beside him, “Na chief buy the house for am. You know na all these small small gehs, na only God know wetin e don give the man wey e con put am for hia. If na me I go chop, clean mouth commot. I no go dey waste big big money like this on common ashawo”
So a Sugar daddy then…
“Ahn ahn! Why you dey talk so?” he forced laughter,
“Na true na, no be only chief wey dey con this place na. Plenty, plenty men, different kinds. She dey give me small small money, make I no talk”
“No be say she talk am like dat o, I just know say that na the reason for the money”
“You be smart guy”
“Eheh na” they both laughed.
Two days later, he drugged Okon with half a card of “Roofies” in a bottle of beer for a chance to snoop around the house. He picked the lock on the back door quite easily and spent the rest of the afternoon getting more ‘acquainted’ with his prospective lady.