Mickey Jay: Memoirs Of A Lagos Playboy (XIX)

Hey y’all,

I trust we are all doing great today?

Here’s just an expression of thanks to naijastories, its wonderful writers and readers for making this platform an exciting one that has helped immensely in developing my craft. I have learned, been encouraged, inspired and have grown since my first post here.

My blog www.saymalcolm.wordpress.com was nominated in the Nigerian Blog Awards 2013 for the category of Best Book, Poetry, or Writing Blog.

I have come here as one of you seeking your support in terms of voting as it commences today, 11th November and ends 8th December 2013. Please visit http://nigerianblogawards.com and vote Malcolm’s Blog  for Best Book, Poetry or Writing Blog.

Thanks guys. :)

Malcolm O. Ifi.

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I was nervous but careful not to show it. We’d never discussed much about anything so naturally, I was surprised. I wasn’t decided yet on how best to handle this woman with all that had been happening. Dear me, why today of all days when I have a full plate but I was curious as to why she was here and that curiosity got the better of me. I could have easily told my front desk colleague to say I was away or in a meeting. I waved her to a seat and she sat down where Nike had occupied barely fifteen minutes ago.

“Is this an official visit or a friendly visit?” I asked, closing a file I’d been scribbling on as she came in.

“Its a friendly visit.” She said with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“How did you know I work here? I don’t recall us ever having a conversation about where I work.” I said, observing her.

“Such info is not really that hard to come by if I want it.” She said shrugging.

“I see.” I said, leaning back on my chair.
“So to what do I owe the pleasure of this august visit?” I asked.

She smiled. Charming smile as always, highly suggestive. Her voluptuous breasts where struggling to breathe as usual from her tight blue blouse and fitted suit. She wore a sky blue skirt suit and I’m pretty partial to anything blue. There was no denying she reeked of “sexiness” as usual; unhinged, electric and highly intoxicating. She cleared off some hair that covered her face so gracefully that it felt like slow motion. Snap out of it!

“A white flag.” She said shyly.

“Are we at war?” I asked innocently.

“Aren’t we?”

“I wouldn’t know. You came with the white flag.” I said quietly.

She sighed and regarded me with those big blue eyes of hers (contacts of course). “I know you are angry with me. I’ve made a mess of things lately.”

I was surprised but I remained quiet. She expected me to say something but when she saw I wouldn’t oblige her, she continued.

“I want you to know I meant no harm. I guess I was drunk and I just got jealous when she wouldn’t stop bragging about you. She hates me you know…”

Tell me something I don’t know, I said to myself but I remained silent.

“I don’t know why. It became obvious to me a few days after you and I met.” She sighed and unbuttoned her suit jacket. If that was a ploy to distract me, she succeeded for I was momentarily distracted. That pair of familiar breasts seemed to heave a sigh of relief at the brief measure of freedom attained. She leaned forward and gazed into my eyes.

“She’s lucky she met you first. Now, whatever I do, I’m the bad one.” She said sadly.

Where is this heading to, I wondered. She looked away and stared at a painting on the wall. It was a replica of one of Pablo Picasso’s works. It was a gift from a satisfied client.

“Interesting painting.” She said after a brief examination. “I once read about the artist. I’ve forgotten his name now.” She stood up and went for a closer look.

“Pablo Picasso.” I offered. “Co-founder of the cubist movement.”

“That’s the one!” She exclaimed, snapping her fingers.

“And cubism is supposed to be a movement for people with a twisted world view? How quaint.” She said, caressing the canvass.

“Not necessarily.” I said.

“I think it started and died with him.” She said after a pause. I was impressed.

“Not at all. He’s actually one of the most successful painters. His brand of painting was dedicated to magnifying the shapes in objects. It shaped art in the 20th century and trust me, there are still a lot of cubist artists today.”

“I don’t find his works appealing though, their intrinsic value regardless.” She insisted.

“I didn’t know you loved art.” I said, astonished.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” She said quietly. She continued to softly trace lines on the canvass with her fingers. From where she stood, I had a perfect view of the amazing curve and fullness of her body. Her skirt was just above her knee and her backside looked great, as usual. I felt that familiar rush.

“I don’t want to share you anymore.” She said suddenly, her voice breaking. She caught me off guard.

“What do you mean?” I asked, rather confused.

“We are one of a kind, you and I. We view the world differently. Can’t you see that?” She appealed passionately. She walked towards me and I stood up. She softly held my face in her hands. Tingling sensations sparked all through my nervous system.

“Our view may be a bit twisted but it is unique. We are free-spirited souls and we are meant to be together…” She said, looking into my eyes but I cut her off.

“Whoa! Slow down there…What’s going on here? What is this?!” I exclaimed, gently taking her hands off my face.

“We can only be truly fulfilled if we belong together. Just imagine what we can explore…together.” She said with an enthusiasm I’d never seen before.

“You’re seriously mistaken about who I am.” I said quietly.

I thought I saw a flash of anger in her eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came.

“You don’t feel anything for me?” It sounded like an accusation.

“Kemi, don’t be like that. We are both adults. We had an understanding?” I said moving away from her.

“I never planned to fall for you.” She said.

“You didn’t fall for me Kemi. Get that thought out of your head.” I said, feeling panic creep within me. “You’ve always known I love Christy. You’ve always known this.”

She was silent for a while.

“You don’t love Christy. If you did, you wouldn’t want me as much you do.” She said confidently.

“You’re seriously in danger of flattering yourself.” I said, quite amused.

“Well, its too late Michael.” She said with resignation. “I can’t help myself anymore.”

She came to me and nestled her hair on my chest and held my waist.

“I’ve missed you so much. You don’t know how hard it has been seeing her with you when I know I can make you happier than she ever could.”

The warning bells in my brain rang a loud danger note and I pulled myself away from her.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” I said quickly.

“Are you dumping me?” She asked, her face betraying her surprise.

“What we had was purely physical; nothing more. You know that.”

The door opened and Malik came in carrying a folder. He said hi to Kemi and said to me, “The meeting starts in a few minutes. These are the reports you said you needed last time.” He handed me the file.

“Did they tally with the one Acquisitions sent?” I asked, opening the folder and glancing through the papers.

“Yep. Don’t be late man.” He said and nodded at Kemi who had taken a seat and headed for the door.

“I’m behind you.” I said. I looked at my watch. It was a few minutes to two o’clock. I began to arrange the papers I would need. Kemi just sat there looking at me. There was a mixture of sadness and surprise in her eyes.

“Do you always have this spare time at the office?” I asked.

“Well, I’m working at the moment. I’m marketing.” She replied icily.

I shook my head. I noticed how she totally ignored my last statement before Malik intruded. I thought of repeating myself again but I decided against it. She’d heard me loud and clear. I ignored her and continued to search for documents that I would need. She just sat and stared. There was a smile on her face that I found menacing. You know that kind of victory smile when someone’s got the goods on you. She made no attempt to leave. Occasionally, I would glance up from what I was doing but she just sat there and kept giving me that smile.

“What?” I asked when I couldn’t take it any longer.

“I’m offering myself to you on a platter. We are destined to be together.” She said this with a radiant confidence that both irritated and frightened me.

“And Christy?” I asked.

“She doesn’t factor in this. We are predators, you and I…”

“She doesn’t factor in this?” I asked, bemused.

“We belong together.” She said quietly. She seemed tired of trying to reason with me.

“Can you leave now? I’m already late for my meeting!” I said exasperated. I had a bad feeling that this was going to end badly.

She refused to wipe that smug smile off her face. It infuriated me greatly because something was apparently not right. Worse still, I hadn’t the slightest clue.

“It would be better if you left Christy and came to me.” She sounded so…cocksure.

I’d just about had it!

“Get out!” I exploded. “GET OUT NOW!!”

My outburst shocked her. She stood up immediately and dropped something tiny on the table. It was a black micro memory card.

“The contents have kept me warm on many cold nights.” She said, her eyes flashing. With that, she left my office.

I stood transfixed for many seconds staring at the memory card, my worst fears eating at my soul. With shaky hands I picked the card up and looked at it. It was new. I picked up the intercom and dialed Suzanne. She picked on the first ring.

“Hey Sue, do you still have that memory card reader I saw with you last week?”

“Yeah, I do. Are you not attending the meeting?” She asked.

“I will. I just need your card reader asap.” I said.

“I’ll bring it now.” She said and hung up. Approximately fifteen seconds later, she opened my door. Her office was a few steps away.

“Catch!” She said as she threw it to me. I caught it expertly and thanked her. She nodded and told me not to be late.

I frantically inserted the card to the reader and connected the reader to my laptop. It was a video file. With sweaty fingers despite the low temperature in my office, I clicked on the video. It was set in a familiar room. It was directed at a massive king size bed that I remembered to be where we had a our last tryst; our threesome. Then it hit me!

The bitch recorded it!

It had one hour, twenty-two minutes of play time. I fast forwarded it and then, I saw the motion picture of the other girl riding me…while Kemi looked on. She kept glancing at the hidden camera. I fast forwarded again and this time they were both on me. The audio wasn’t so good but I could hear my voice in snatches. I couldn’t believe my eyes! A cold rage gripped me. I closed the video and covered my face in disbelief, cursing and swearing in the vilest words I knew. She had me by the balls and she knew it!

The player just got played!

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7 thoughts on “Mickey Jay: Memoirs Of A Lagos Playboy (XIX)” by Malcolm O. Ifi (@saymalcolm)

  1. Oh my word!!!!!!!!!!

  2. The player just got played. Nice.

  3. Hahaha good for you…inshort greaaaaaaaaat for you lool….karma is a biytch

  4. Looooool!
    Well he can’t lie his way outta this one.

  5. This is a new joint for Mickey! The player just really got seriously played

  6. This guy!

    you rock!

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