“Hello?” Someone said in a very attractive locution.
I was struck by the familiar yet strange voice. I stopped short, my journey to the bathroom became suddenly irrelevant until I satisfied my curiosity. I crawled behind the cream curtains that divided the sitting room from the narrow passage and peeked.
There she was! Pacing to and fro in front of the flat screen television and pretending to be speaking on phone. She was obviously talking to no one over the phone, because a close observation revealed that the phone she was using was the remote control of our DSTV. She kept walking in the line, frowning, smiling, laughing and shouting at her supposed caller. “Charles, I have warned you never to call my number again. How can you be dating my best friend?… Noo … No Charles. It’s over” She paused and looked in my direction, as if she guessed someone was peeking, I ducked quickly, just in time. “Charles. Stop begging me with cars. Your 3.5 million Dollars cannot bring me back to your life! I am not that cheap!” She blasted finally and dropped the phone – which was actually a remote control – on the center-table hissing.
I retreated quietly, to head back to my room as I heard her approaching footsteps.
“Uncle Fejiro, I know you are there.”
I froze. “You caught me Susan.” I stuttered and staggered out of my hiding shyly. She reached for my hands and pulled me to the sitting room.
“I wasn’t sure if you were the one at first but I guessed, and I guessed right.”
“That’s brilliant!” I observed, “So who were you talking to over the phone?” I said quietly, pretending not to notice the way she pushed me to a chair and sat on my legs playfully.
“Uncle.” She frowned, I thought she was frowning because I was staring helplessly at her little spindly laps which she was now folding to herself on my legs. They were as they were – the young legs of a small child; spotless, brightly colored and sexy.
She noticed the way I stared at her laps and so she tried pulling her short skirt over it, but of course nothing changed, because the blue jean skirt she wore was simply too short to cover the distraction. It only made her flash as she tried.
She spoke to draw my attention; “I was speaking to a stupid boy who is dating my friend and me!” She said as if it was true. “Imagine the idiot even begging me with 4 million dollars.”
“Really?!” I scoffed.
“Yes Uncle.” She curled herself up on my shirtless chest and drew lines – poking and caressing my nipples slowly. “I am only acting it though. You know I want to be a big girl. Like Aunty Juliet and Aunty Bose.”
I laughed, the way her tender fingers rubbed my chest with a special attention at the junctions of my nipples was laugh triggering. But there was a different feeling too, which I didn’t want to consider. “Do you know what it is to be a big girl?” I asked without any hidden intentions, until the question came back into my head and I realized how odd it was.
“How hard can it be?” She said quietly – to me her voice actually sounded seductive. She bent over to clean something in my left eye brows, bringing her head so close to mine. For a second, I thought she was attempting to kiss me. My heart froze. The little girl was only wanting to help clean a dirt off my eyes, but the firmness and seriousness in her eyes as she focused on my brows was imprinting a very different meaning in my heart.
“Let me do that.” I yelled and flinched. My hand reached up to my brows.
“No!” She pushed my hand away playfully and still continued her attempt. I stood up quickly when her buttocks almost rested on my other arm and she fell off the couch in the process.
“Hey Susan! I am sorry.” I could not stand up to console her because something had moved inside my combatant shorts and if I attempted to, she’d know. She didn’t stand up and I appeared wicked because while she sat there sulking and sobbing, I just sat there saying ‘sorry, sorry’.
She didn’t stop sobbing and I had to stand up. I hoped that even if she saw the bulging spot, she would not understand what it meant.
“Leave me alone Uncle!” She snarled.
I felt bad, what had she done to deserve the ill treatment. I carried her petite body easily back on my legs and patted her back gently. The bulge inside me was rising still. She stopped crying suddenly – I felt the tears could have been pretense too. Sudden curiosity now filled her eyes as she reached for the bulgy part of my shorts. Something must have poked her from it.
“Uncle, what is this?!” She yelled with a sparkling excitement in her eyes.
Her quick hands were already on me, and something held me down from stopping her.
“Can I see it Uncle?” She pleaded with the same locution she used when speaking on phone earlier, and then I knew that she knew what it was.
“No Susan!” I managed to shout, my attempts to toss her away was not successful because I didn’t want her to fall like the other time.
“Uncle. Let me touch it please. I promise not to tell anyone.” She whispered softly. Even if I said no, her hands were already doing the unthinkable as she pleaded seductively.
“This is bad” was all I could whisper, “This is bad.” I couldn’t even hear myself saying it.
“Uncle Fejiro, just tell me what to do, I promise you that I’ll co-operate and nobody would ever get to know.” Her look was sincere.
This must have been from those American movies. And those Nollywood materials too. But even if she had not been watching those movies; this was obviously the product of what older ladies such as Juliet and Bose taught kids indirectly – by wearing all sort of provocative wears, jisting everything about boys and etc. Thereby creating a deep lustful desire in the younger ones’ tender tabula rasa which makes them curious and hungry for what they shouldn’t even know anything about.
I have slept hungry for days; my dreaming about Juliet had not led to me climaxing, and since this little Juliet was offering herself. I felt too incapacitated to refuse.
“Susan.” I whispered after I had led her into my room, “Open your mouth…” I instructed quietly.
Ignoble actions followed.
And what more? In fifteen minutes, I was groaning in pain and intense pleasure. It was certainly unbelievable that such could have been gotten from a lass. But that was not all, her expression was what seized my heart.
“I enjoyed that Uncle” she said smiling with a wet face; “Daddy and Uncle Jimmy use to do it to me too, but Aunty Bose does it best. You have broken the record. I like yours!”
I marveled; Susan was just 9 years old!
If you like this, you should also like Die! by the same author