The Darker Berry #4

Hey guys, it’s been a while. We missed you.

It’s been such a long two weeks but now we back with a bang. Literally.

So let’s recap before we get to business.

You see, Umi has a sister, Amra who appeared out of nowhere with a daughter (Zainab) Umi had never seen. 

uhn-uhn, that’s right. What’s worse, Amra abandoned her kid and disappeared on Umi. And that’s not all, Zainab went missing too!

 Yes, that child put our Umi through so much. However, things got better when Femi saved the day; he found Zainab, asked Umi out and she said yes!

And that’s where we left off guys.

Hey, one last thing, Femi has plans for Umi. And nah, nothing clean about those plans.

Let’s get startled already, shall we?

 

 

She was in a mini gold dress. He watched as she emerged from the building she worked and lived in.

Thirty minutes before, he’d almost given in to her insistence to find her way to Bullet by herself.

However, he had a plan and there was no way in hell he was going to let her ruin any part of that by stubbornly refusing to let him drive her to the venue of their rendezvous.

As she inched closer, walking carefully but deftly – like she was born in the heels her feet were strapped in – he saw himself viewing her in slow motion.

If it were a film, he’d cue some sweet jazz music while she joined him in his blue vintage convertible.

He had chosen the convertible for their first outing because, again, it was a part of his grand plan.

His grand, well thought out, never known to fail and recently upgraded plan.

It was simple, pretty much known but at the same time very him.

He believed every woman, well the type he usually fancied, needed to be seduced in a certain way. And according to his belief, seduction was art; something to be studied, understood, enjoyed and, mastered.

After mastering and understanding the beautiful and extremely thrilling art of seduction, a man then had to employ a little something from technology – the art of upgrading.

So, he ensured, that with every woman he chased, he upgraded his style to suit her. Something she would eventually fall for no matter how hard she fought. It ensured the newness of his style of seduction, and that it never failed.

And it always worked.

After spending hours browsing through Umi’s Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and every article he found relating to her business online, he’d gotten an idea of the type of woman she was and the type of things that would most likely impress her.

So he’d worn a masculine scent that wasn’t so strong it became domineering but memorable enough to linger in her senses even after that night. He’d chosen a black shirt that flattered his color and picked his expensive vintage convertible, a car he knew a woman like her would appreciate.

And the moment she joined him in the car, he realized his plan was working as expected.

“I love the convertible,” she said, giving it a quick tour with her eyes.

“It gladdens me to know you appreciate the aesthetics of my automobile.” he replied with a silly smile.

Their gazes locked for a second before she directed hers out of the car. As they rode through the light traffic on their side of town, his eyes swept her body in one quick look.

Her smooth mahogany skin was tempting and it took all the willpower he possessed to keep his hands from straying as far as his mind.

“Would you like to listen to music? Radio?” he asked when he slowed down at a traffic light.

She shrugged in response and he played a Beyoncé classic from his iPhone which was synced to his car speakers.

It was Naughty Girl, a song he particularly loved because it was about a woman taking charge and maximizing her sensuality at the same time. In his opinion, it was one of Beyoncé’s best and it was something a woman like Umi became on a night like this.

A slight nod of her head to the music justified that thought. Minutes later, they were on their way inside Bullet, one of the most popular clubs in Lagos and where most people hardly got admitted. But which he got admission into all the time because, well, he was Femi Agbaje.

Holding her hand gently in his, he led her to the VIP area where he ordered Ace of Spades and watched her take her order.

There was a Davido song playing in the club, it had a sexy feel and he quickly wondered if his date for the night would move to it at any point.

Leaning closer to her the moment they were left alone by the waiter, he whispered, “You look beautiful.” She smiled in response and mouthed, “thank you”.

“And that dress is sexy,”

Their drinks arrived before he could get another word in.

Sipping her cocktail through the pink straw in her glass, he watched her full lips, intrigued. He was increasingly drawn to her with every second that passed. It was as if a big force was pulling him to her – like he were magnet, and she, steel.

However, he wished she’d loosen up more and give him a peek into what made her tick, what she was made up of and what made her who she was.

So after minutes passed and they’d barely made conversation, he invited her to have some of his drink. Surprisingly, she didn’t hold back. And like he’d hoped, she began to loosen up the moment the alcohol seemed to ease into her system.

“So this is a glimpse into your life, huh?” she inquired, her voice struggling to be heard over the loud music. “Loud music, exclusive clubs, extremely expensive liquor…”

“Hey you!” she was interrupted by Becca, his on again, off again ex. He and Becca had been quite intimate and even though they were never really been official, they vibed so well, he had no qualms referring to her as his ex.

Becca drew him up, barely paying Umi any attention before kissing him on the lips while she asked what he’d been up to in the past week. Thing with Becca was, she was that chick he never ended things with and with whom he always seemed to pick up from where he left, anytime they met. It was not something they agreed on but it was what they did.

They didn’t talk for months, they met randomly somewhere and ended up screwing. Once, they’d met at Shoprite, gone to hers, screwed and didn’t see each other for months after then. Becca had a joke about them eventually ending up with each other because they deserved each other.

They talked for minutes on end before Becca got dragged away by some guy who Femi saw on TV doing nothing in particular from time to time.

When he returned to his seat, Umi seemed pissed.

It was not that she wore the anger boldly like an advert on a billboard – she was actually good with masking it – it was that she recoiled despite how tipsy she seemed.

“I’m sorry, Becca is…”

“I don’t care.” she said with a hand and jumped up to dance before he could speak another word.

“I love this song.” she said with a grin as she began to move to a new song that came up. As she moved her hips the way he’d never really seen a girl outside of a music video, he realized he was shocked at how easily she swung from angry to… to a dancing queen.

Where and how did she learn how to switch like that?

She was so good at it, he was tempted to ask if she had a PHD in it.

“Come, come dance with me,” she beckoned. As he approached her, even he found himself nodding to the song. It had a catchy bridge, quite bubblegum-ish and definitely something that he was going to remember after he left the club.

Oh girl your body is a miracle, she tell me say her name na miracle…

And the woman before him, moving like she was handpicked from a P Square video while she undid him without even touching him was also something to remember after leaving this place. If he thought he could leave her be without having her moan his name while he pleasured her in ways nobody else ever could before then, this moment proved to him he couldn’t.

They danced for what seemed like an eternity, their bodies sometimes letting out a spark Femi wondered if only him could feel. And when it seemed like he couldn’t take it anymore, he leaned close to her and asked, “should we get out of here?”

“Totally,” she replied. “Yours,” she added once they started to leave.

They sped through the road that led to his the moment they emerged from the noisy building they’d been at for hours. Unable to keep his hand to himself this time, he placed his hand on her thigh and when she didn’t resist, he let his fingers travel north.

The thong she was wearing wasn’t hard to shift aside, it barely barricaded her moist inside and in seconds, his fingers were encircling her sex.

She let out a moan, parting her legs wider for easier access. He was sweetly stunned at her response. He had expected resistance. A lot more resistance. This made her even more intriguing.

Placing a hand on the window, he watched her try to resist the urge to let out another moan.

“You’re not drunk enough to let go?” he asked, puzzled that she’d still have the will to stifle a moan.

“Shut up and continue,” she snapped and when he didn’t move, she slapped his hand until he continued.

Smirking, he wondered who she’d been sleeping with and if the person always told her to keep it quiet. He knew he loved his women expressive and he wouldn’t have it any other way with this one.

Or maybe it was because she wasn’t used to him yet?

That he was willing to find out.

He suddenly withdrew his finger and without warning, thrust two fingers into her. She moaned. He smiled.

“Good girl.” He winked when she eyed him.

They arrived at his in a few minutes and he swept her off her feet the moment he kicked the door shut. Covering two steps at once on the staircase, he headed for his bedroom.

“You really want to do this?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t say no.

“Can we get it over with already?” she groaned, shedding her clothes.

He was momentarily carried away when he saw her nude form standing in front of him, the dress and undies long gone.

“Don’t remove the heels,” he said when she made to remove her pair of stilettos and she shrugged.

“Okay,” she replied.

“Come,” he said to her and took her to the wall. Ignoring the confused look on her face, he pulled down his pants, wore a condom and lifted her.

Placing her back firmly against the wall, he parted her legs.

The image of her legs, spread out while her feet were decked in her shoes hardened him more.

“You may want to put your hands around my neck for this,” he told her as his tongue found her opening.

Her fingers dug into his back when he pushed his tongue into her, tasting her and exploring her at the same time.

When he ate her, he did it to satisfy her but he also realized it woke up his own hunger for her more than when she stripped bare seconds before.

He was literally aching for her. His tongue teased her and when he felt her release coming, he stopped and lifted himself up.

“Why did you stop…”

Eyes holding hers, he didn’t give her any form of warning before parting her legs wider and plunging deep into her wetness.

One hand against the wall, the other gripping him, he watched as he thrust in and out of her.

Watching her do what he had fantasized too many times since he laid eyes on her turned him on and drove him to the edge of his own release. But because part of his plan was to have her return to him, wanting more, he waited for her climax to come first.

“Will you let me know when you come?” he asked in between thrusts.

She laughed. “You’re wasting your time, playa. I’ve never come this way.”

And he wasn’t certain if it was because his brain processed that as a challenge or because he didn’t trust a word of what she said, he drove faster into her.

Moments later, she stilled, a look of surprise on her face. “Hold me.” she pleaded softly.

And he did, as her fingers dug deeper into his back. Soon, she moaned out against his throat, allowing herself a wild eruption of pleasure. It was so strong it felt as if she had locked him in and there would be no coming out.

Thankful he didn’t remove his shirt, he waited for her to catch her breath. Then he drove his shaft into her in quick succession, climaxing in seconds.

When they drew apart after that, she walked briskly to where her dress lay.

“You really haven’t come before?” he asked, incredulous.

“Nope,” she replied, wearing her bra.

He watched her for seconds, shocked.

Even when he broke hymens, he didn’t feel like this. Being someone’s first ‘climax inducer’, whatever that meant, made him feel different emotions at once.

And maybe that was why he said what he said next, “I don’t know what you’re thinking but this has to happen again. I’m not letting you go. Not until I have done this to you as many times as I want.”

“Your arrogance is appalling.”

“Thank goodness you’re not here for the arrogance.”

She wore her dress and began to make for the door.

As Femi watched her walk away, his desire for her fueled again. Even her gait was art. He could sit down somewhere and just tell her to strut around for his pleasure.

“Please wait, let me take you home.”

He rushed into a pair of slacks and a tee and hurried downstairs, catching up with her at the front door.

“Tell me we’ll do this again.”

He pulled her close by the waist. She felt small in his hand. The scent of her perfume, re-registered itself in his senses. Umi wasn’t going to leave his mind for a long time.

He ran a gentle finger on her cheek and stopped beneath her chin to lift her face to his.

“Can I kiss you?”

“No.”

She let her face down, pushing him away.

“Take me home.”

***

 

The kitchen was dark when Umi got home. Her parched lips longed for a drink of water badly. She walked in and turned on the lights.

“Where are you coming from?”

The sight of Quincy sitting alone in the kitchen made her jump.

“Why do you always do that?”

Quincy laughed. “Just practicing for when I have children and they start sneaking out to parties.”

“You’re not alright.”

“So,” Quincy jumped off the kitchen counter, “how did it go?”

Umi shrugged, opening the fridge. “We just went clubbing, that’s all.”

She shut the fridge and found Quincy’s face in hers.

“You’re always creepy, Q.”

“Did he kiss you?”

Umi paused, and thought hard, trying to recall if they kissed.

“No,” she answered, and just like that, the events of the night lost their edge and came back at her with regret. She opened the bottle of water she had picked, unscrewed the cover and sent it down her throat. As it washed down, she felt hot tears burn her eyes.

“You didn’t kiss? What type of dumb date was that?”

Umi let the bottle down. “We had sex.”

“No way!” Quincy’s eyes popped out – which was quite a sight because she already had a bulgy pair.

She held Umi’s arm. “I need every single detail. Please!”

“Well…” Umi leaned on the fridge and in an unhurried manner retold what happened between her and Femi. She was hoping that by going through it again, she would do away with the regret that was slowly eating through her. But it didn’t work. She felt worse after her tale. And Quincy was not about to make things easier either.

“Sounded like you had fun,” she said. “But are you sure it was the smartest thing to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Umi, it’s not like you to go screwing random strangers like that. You’re always very careful not to get into that type of mess.”

“Q, please don’t preach to me this night. It’s the last thing I need right now.”

“I’m just saying. It makes no sense that you’d do this. Is everything okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about this. Goodnight.”

Umi hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom. When she walked in, she found Buzor sleeping soundly on her bed. He was manspreading, covering the entire space. Umi unzipped her dress, stepped out of it and used it over him in a hard slam. He startled up, looked around blindly and slowly focused on her.

“Is this the day that you finally let me have a second taste?”

“Don’t be an idiot, Buzor. Get up and go home.”

Buzor yawned and turned around, his back hitting the bed again.

“You’re back,” he murmured.

“No, I’m still on my way.”

“How did it go?”

“Great.”

“Details?”

“None.”

“Umi, it’s Femi Agbaje. I’ve heard his gist. He definitely gave you a good time. Bless me with some juicy story.”

“She had sex with him,” Quincy, who was at the door, revealed. “Hot, steamy sex on the wall, after he ate her out.”

Buzor’s facial features turned cold. Umi flashed an angry glare at Quincy.

“You had sex with him?”

Umi ignored Buzor’s question.

“I don’t understand. You left us here with your niece, saying you just wanted to let the weight off your feet and you go and sleep with the dog of Lagos. Just like that.”

“What is your problem?!” Umi yelled. “What is wrong with two of you?! Am I not an adult that can do whatever she feels like doing?! So what if I went out today and slept with ten men at the same time! Is it your vagina?! Why do two of you feel the need to be on my case?! Do I ask you who you fuck? Do I make a big deal out of what you choose to do with your bodies?! Why are you monitoring mine?!”

And then the tears came out in one burst and began down like a waterfall. Umi lowered her weight to the floor and leaned on the bed, her knees drawn up. Buzor looked at Quincy whose masked loathing for her friend seemed to grow every day. She was the type of friend that could easily hug with one hand and stab with the other, the type that would seduce and sleep with her best friend’s husband just for the thrill of it. Buzor had sought for subtle ways to let Umi know that she was not to be trusted but Umi would never believe any bad word about Quincy. He hoped that one day soon, the snake in her would emerge. He prayed that it wouldn’t sink its fangs in Umi first.

“Can you let us have a minute?” he said to Quincy who gave him a spiteful up and down movement of her eyes before she left the room. Buzor lifted Umi off the floor but when he tried to hold her, she moved away and took the bed instead. There, she lay and hugged a pillow.

“I was stressed,” she sniffled. “Amra’s appearance and disappearance and then the thing that Zainab did today… I just wanted to let it all out. To just be that girl that has no responsibilities. I was thinking to myself why can’t I just take a risk like Amra does? Just live for the moment, enjoy the thrill of doing something ridiculously nasty and dangerous. Why must my life always have borders, rules, plans, focus… I just wanted to break out of me, Bubu… And I go and sleep with the dog of Lagos.”

She sniffled again.

“Is that what they call him?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know him?”

Buzor wasn’t going to tell. The story was one that still got him mad. Femi had once slept with an ex while she was still seeing Buzor. It wouldn’t have hurt if it had happened just once. But it had been a constant occurrence over the span of four months, until he eventually found out and dumped her. Curiosity pushed him to find out who the guy was that had the guts to steal his woman. When he dug into Femi’s life, he was unimpressed with his body count and past escapades before he made it to the top.

“I’ve heard his gist. He sleeps around like he’s taking oxygen.”

“Well, that makes me feel better.”

“Don’t beat yourself over it. I hope he used protection, though.”

“He did.”

“You’ll be fine.”

Buzor took the space beside Umi. His familiar scent was comforting to her. It was the scent of friendship and trust.

“I need laughter in my life,” she said. “I need to let go of my burdens and just have fun. Femi seemed like he had a lot of that. Weirdly, I felt free with him.”

“They say he’s good at doing that. It’s his way of getting women to trust him and then he uses them and dumps them.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen again.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

Buzor wiped off her tears with his thumb. He struggled with the urge to hold her to himself and kiss her. Something about the way she glowed at the moment made her more desirable to him than she had ever been. Maybe it was the sex she just had. Maybe it was the matching lingerie she had on.

“Gosh you should have seen me,” she spoke. “I was such a ho. I can’t believe that was me.”

She turned around and had her back to the bed. The movement of her cleavage from the sheath of her bra instantly caused a reaction between Buzor’s legs. He changed his position to lie on his stomach.

“Why are you here, by the way?” Umi asked.

“I was scared to leave because of Zainab. I had done a good job of calming her and getting her to trust me. She made me promise that I wouldn’t go away.”

“Awww…”

“The child needs you, Umi.”

“I don’t want to be attached. Amra will soon come back and take her away.”

“She needs you. You’re the closest thing to a mother in her life right now.”

“I’m done being a mother. I did that my whole life.”

“Just try.”

Umi sat straight. “Oya, get up and be going. I have to sleep. Help me with my bra first.”

She gave him her back and he unclasped her bra. When it gave way and she pulled it off, he had a good view of her side boob. She rose up and with her back still to him, she walked to her wardrobe.

“Goodnight,” he said, getting off the bed.

“Wait.”

She turned, hands on her breasts. “Thanks for today.”

He winked and walked out. The moment the door closed, Umi freed her breasts and dove under her blanket. Sleep didn’t come so easily. She was stuck in time, back in Femi’s bedroom, back against the wall. Like a lengthy GIF image replaying itself, the moment refused to leave her head. At the time it happened, she had been tipsy and everything had been a rush. But now, it returned in details – the feel of his curly hair around her fingers, the black of his eyes, the feel of his shoulders beneath her hands, the strength of his muscled thighs, the rippling contours beneath the surface, his breath against her skin, the way he uttered her name in grunts, the shamelessness in his manner…

She wondered if there was a soul beneath all that. She wondered if she would wake up tomorrow and forget all about him. She wanted to. She had to. For the sake of all she had worked hard to achieve.

The dog of Lagos would not have his way with her again.