This series, Dear High Mistress is continued from The Fourth Finger. To enjoy the story better, I’ll recommend the Fourth Finger E-book to you. Click here to get it.
In the world where the following took place, it was a typical Friday evening and nothing unusual was slated to happen. The metropolitan was alive in its usual buzz and being that it was the beginning of a weekend, the clubs and watering holes were expected to come alive, to accommodate the ever-pulsing nightlife of the famous Lagos. Drinks flowed, dance floors kissed the happy feet of vivacious social animals, acquaintances were made, deviant deeds blamed on alcohol went down and the police had their hands (and pockets) full, handling a myriad of cases for the night.
While these activities transpired, our focus was shifted to three couples in the story that were within the confines of their respective homes, handling their issues as best as they could.
We began with Raji and Salma, a divorced couple and parents of three young children, who still saw each other regularly. They would often say, just before they found themselves entangled beneath the sheets, that they were keeping a connection for the good of the kids. Tonight was one of such moments. The venue was Rajiβs serviced apartment on the twelfth floor of a glass building. The children were in the care of a nanny back in the home where all the amazing and awful memories between Raji and Salma were stored. Salma had, in her own words, had driven to Rajiβs to have a talk. Well, we all know how that progressed. Moments later, they were both panting hard on Rajiβs bed.
βIs it me or the sex got better after we divorced?β Raji asked Salma. She shrugged, trying to catch her breath. She had been on top and done most of the work. In the days when they were married, she had found it hard to be his cowgirl. Tonight, she had surprised herself and Raji. The High Mistress was right. Divorce did do wonders on a womanβgiving her control, opening her up to a version of herself that marriage wouldn’t let show.
Raji moved towards Salma and rested his head between her breasts. She was a beautiful, curvy, plus size woman who was turning him wild these days. Sometimes he would look at her and kick himself in the nuts for cheating on her. He loved the woman she had become. She was now independent and empowered, which was a huge turn-on.
βRaji, I need to go home,β she said to him, playing with the short curls of his hair.
βHome ke? Do you know what time it is?β
βI have to go home.β
He lifted his head up. βSleep over.β
βYou know I can never do that.β
βNever is a strong word, Sal.β
βIt would mean that whatever weβre doing is serious. I donβt want to wake up in the morning and see your face smiling at me.β
Raji showed her a full grin. βWhatβs not to love about this handsome face?β
βOya, get up, let me be dressing and going.β
βNo.β He held on like a baby, working his hand into the plumpness of her breast.
βGet up, Raji.β Her body moved beneath him and he rose up, only to find her lips ready for a kiss.
βWe should stop doing this,β she said under a moan.
βWhy?β
βItβs wrong. Weβre no longer married.β
βYouβll always be my wife, Salma.β
She managed to escape his prison. She took the bed spread with her when she left the bed, but Raji tugged it off, exposing her nudity. He was content to watch only, as he lay back and observed her wearing her clothes. Soon her voluptuousness disappeared beneath a long sari. She picked a veil off the floor and covered her hair with it.
βSal, I donβt like these clothes you wear. Theyβre soβ¦bleh. What happened to all those sexy ass outfits I got for you?β
βI wear them at home where the eye of no man is watching.β
βBut you look a lot better in them. Besides, theyβre not so bad.β
βAll they do is show my curves. I find them a little indecent.β
βNot me.β
βOf course, not you. Sometimes I wonder if youβre a Muslim.”
βSo, when are we doing this again?β
Salma didnβt give an immediate answer. She concentrated on securing her veil.
βSalma?β
βMaybe never.β
βNever?β
She faced him. βWe should start dating other people, Raji.β
He sat up. βIs there someone you want to tell me about?β
βYes.β
βAhmed?β
βNo.β
βWho?β
βI donβt want to talk about him now.β
βWho is he, Sal?β
βNot tonight, Raji. But Iβm serious. This has to stop.β
βOkay.β
βCome and walk me to my car. Your parking garage scares the hell out of me.β
Raji slipped into his clothes. He followed her out to the living room.
βIβll be at the Adediranβs tomorrow for the naming ceremony,β Salma mentioned. βWere you invited?β
βYeah, but Iβll not be attending. Iβll send over an envelope.β
Salma stopped at the door and looked at her ex-husband. βDo you miss your friendship with Folarin and Christie?β
βI do. Itβs harder when I have to be reminded that Christie is my business partner and I canβt go beyond talking business with her. We used to be such good friends. And then Folarinβ¦ Thatβs the hardest. He looks at me and all I can see him say is, βRaji, you slept with my wifeβ. I feel judged all the time.β
βDonβt be too hard on yourself, Raj.β Salma placed a hand on his cheek. βYouβve paid penance. Find your new life and move on.β
βI donβt want any new life without you.β He took her waist. βLetβs not see other people. Letβs go to a marriage counselor and strike out our issues.β
Salma placed a soft kiss on his lips. βI donβt want to be married to you again.β
βOuch.β
βWalk me out, boy.β
He led her out of his apartment to a parking garage in the building. When she was safe behind the wheel, he bent over and told her he loved her.
βRaji, donβt.β
βKiss my kids for me.β
She started the engine and he stood, watching until she exited the garage. He got into the elevator that took him up to his apartment where he sat and mulled over her words of not wanting to get married to him a second time. It upset him.
He stretched out his legs on one of the black couches in the living room that complemented a set of masculine-inspired furniture which was in keeping with the overall dΓ©cor of the apartment. The place had a combination of black, navy blue and grey, set in luxurious design. It was the classic bachelor setting for the rich, unmarried man. But Raji hated the place. He longed for his family home that was inviting with bright colors, the constant whiff of food and the carefree laughter of his children. He missed his old life. He wanted his wife back, and he was willing to do anything to get her.
***
Christie and Folarin. Our second couple for the night. In their large bedroom, which was less flamboyant than any of the rooms one might find in Rajiβs apartment, the cries of a newborn tore her mother away from the novel she was reading.
But letβs not be fooled. Christie was in no way less rich than Raji, who was her partner and co-owner of Covet Advertising, one of the leading advertising ad agencies in the country. It was rumored that, in fact, Christie was actually richer than Raji was. She just wasnβt flamboyant with her wealth. She was a woman of simple tastes, a mother of three, a wife to a man who earned about twenty percent of what she earned, yet loved her in a way most men werenβt known to love their wives.
Christie walked to her babyβs cot and lifted her out of it.
βWho beat my baby?β she asked in typical Nigerian mother language as she began rocking the child. βThe person that beat Tamilore should come out let me beat them back o. Iβm not happy rara!β
She returned to her bed and set about nursing the seven-day old child. Her husband, Folarin, walked inβa hunky specimen of a man, with quiet looks that contrasted with his tattooed body. He had the kind of appearance that made ladies swoon, but he also possessed the manner that men like him carried aboutβthe obliviousness of his effect on women. He had eyes only for Christie.
βEverythingβs set for tomorrow,β Folarin said, taking off a black t-shirt he had on. βI am tired.β
βI made dinner.β
βYou made dinner?β he asked. βWhat about Momsi?β
βYour mom has been cooking your meals for seven days. I decided you should have a taste of mine today.β
βChris, honey, thatβs why sheβs here. To help you out. You have to relax. You just had a baby.β
βNot a trailer. I can do everything I used to do. And this is my third child. Besides, I miss cooking for you.β
Folarin melted at her words. βFine. Just tonight.β
βAnd a few other nights.β
He gave her a quizzical stare. βDo you feel like your mother-in-law is taking over your personal space?β
βMy mother-in-law? Look, chief, Momsi and I are fine. Sheβs here to help out with Tami and I appreciate that. Itβs just for a month, isnβt it?β
βIt is. Thank you for being accommodating. I donβt know how many women would put up with a mother-in-law who kicked them out of their own home.β
βLetβs not bring the past back, please.β
Folarin went into the bathroom, had a shower and returned nude.
βCan you stop doing that?β Christie said with pleading eyes.
βDoing what?β
βSeducing me. Stop it. Itβs torture to have to wait for six weeks before I can touch you.β
Boyish laughter erupted from him.
βPut some clothes on, chief.β
βYes, ma.β
He went to the closet and came back wearing a pair of pajamas. βBetter?β
Christie shook her head with a smile. She handed their daughter to him. βBurp her, please.β
She returned to her novel but kept an eye on father and daughter. When Folarin wasnβt paying attention, she took out her phone and captured the moment in a photo.
βChris, Iβve been thinkingβ¦β
βYeah?β
βIβd like to have a DNA test done on Tamilore.β
Christieβs hand froze on her phone.
βDNA?β
βYeah.β
βBut the thing between me and Raji ended beforeβ¦β
Folarin looked at his wife. βJust to be sure.β He went back to his daughter. βThis little angel here is adorable, but I donβt want to be looking at her and wondering if sheβs my friendβs daughter. I need to know for sure.β
Christie smiled. She tried not to show that his words bothered her. She was sure the baby belonged was his, but because of an affair she had with Raji the year before, she knew she had lost her right to contest the DNA test.
βItβs fine. I understand. Weβll do it next week.β
βThank you.β Folarin began towards the door, speaking to his baby. βLetβs go and say goodnight to Grandma.β
Christie picked her novel again. It was the best way to get her mind off the latest development.
***
The worst thing any woman wanted to hear from the man she loved was that he had a child somewhere with another woman. Consider this worse than the act of cheating itself. An unfaithful man could change. But when an offspring was brought into the balance, there was that little matter of DNA that could never be altered.
Such was the case for Andre and Toni. Our third couple. Andre dropped the bomb about a three-year son he had with another woman who was outside the shores of the country. He broke the news to Toni after a long session of lovemaking.
The evening had begun like other Friday evenings they shared. They both had returned from work, meeting each other at the doorstep and engaging in ravenous kisses because they hadnβt had the privilege to be alone the entire week. Andre lifted Tonni off her feet and took her to his bedroom where he made intense love to her.
Afterward, as they lay puffing, their backs to the bed and clammy faces staring up at the ceiling, Toni asked, βDid you just cum inside me?β
In response, Andre laughed, before turning to stare into her face.
βIs it such a bad thing if I did? Donβt you want to have kids?β
The second question was supposed to be harmless, but the tone, as Toni would tell him in a short while, ticked her off.
βYou make it sound like itβs awful for me to want something else other than being a wife and a mother,β she almost yelled as the question kicked off a mild argument that grew into an intense one.
βCalm down, Antonia.β
βLately, I have been getting all the subtle insinuations in your facial expressions at me, your voice, and even in your words.β She kept on in annoyance, putting on a t-shirt as she ranted. βYou make me feel less because I donβt want what you want. Well, you know what? Fuck you, Andre! And fuck you for cumming inside me!β
She picked up her glasses, her laptop, a pack of menthols and marched out to the living room where she lit a cigarette from the pack. The menthol smoke was like a cup of cold water on a hot day. It calmed her, even though it took the entire stick to stop her from walking about in circles.
Afterward, she sat on one of the sofas, reminding herself that the fight she had with Andre was their third in two weeks over the same issue. And if she knew him well, he was not going to drop the topic until he had his way.
Exhausted from the dayβs work, she propped her back on a cushion and proceeded to pay attention to some unfinished office work.
Time sped by and soon the clock struck 2am. Toni then stretched out her legs on the center table and went on the web. As the head of PR in Covet Advertising, she always kept abreast of the latest on the internet. Her clientele ranged from huge multimillion naira companies, to the women and men who ran them, and also to top celebrities. The job was demanding. Time was not something she played with, and definitely not something she could spare beyond what she presently apportioned to the ones she loved, Andre being number one on her list.
Before their series of fights began, they had never talked about having a family in the sense of actually having it. There had been sparse discussions on the topic, and in all of them, Toni had made known she was appalled by the idea of being a wife and mom. She didnβt consider herself maternal material. She believed she was too selfish to care for a child; and with being an executive and senior partner in the agency which she partly owned, she felt it would be unwise to bring a child into the world, just to have it cared for by a nanny.
Andre was well informed of her position on the matter. But as was his manner, he was determined to get beneath her skin. Toni, however, had prepared herself to lose him to another woman if it ever came down to being faced with the decision to stay with him or walk away. No man was worth the risk. Not even Andre who had broken down the walls other men had not dreamt of touching.
With a silent sigh, Toni exorcised these thoughts from her mind as she brought her web-surfing session to an end by visiting an email that was dated a while ago. She lit another cigarette and clicked on the email which opened to familiar words.
Dear High Mistress,
I think Iβm losing my mind these days by falling desperately in love with a certain Frenchman. I had prepared my heart against this from the start, came up with ingenious ways to ensure that he doesnβt find my mumu button where I had it buried. I had even made myself scarce on weekdays just to eliminate any cache of feelings that may be lingering in places my commonsense canβt reach. But alas! I go and fall for him with everything Iβve got.
Now, I feel stuck and helpless! Iβm lost!
Is there a way out for me before I disappear into the abyss of this manβs world?
Hopeless in love,
Antonia Braithwaite.
Toni had a long drag of her menthol cigarette and blew it out. She waited for the smoke to clear before her eyes refocused on her laptop screen. She read the date of the email which had been sent to her inbox by her almost eight months ago, with the title, βSOS to Selfβ. Having read it more than thirty times since then, Toni now knew the words verbatim.
βAnd Iβm still falling,β she murmured to herself.
The tall form of Andre made an appearance at the doorway of the living room from his bedroom. She looked up from her laptop.
βYouβre still awake,β he said. βYouβre not fuming over our spat?β
βNo, Andre.β
He came up behind her and bent over the sofa she was on, pushing both hands into the oversize boyfriend tee she was wearing. Toni gave a sigh of pleasure and stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray.
βIs there anything more delicious than you, young lady?β
She smiled and accepted the kiss his lips were offering, head tilted backwards. Soon they were snuggling on the couch, facing each other. The night was cool, the windows drawn open. Andreβs hand was beneath her t-shirt and his face in her neck when he asked in a cavalier manner, βBut why donβt you ever want to have babies?β
His words came at Toni like pricks from a hundred needles, while the warmth of his breath left featheriness on her skin.
βWe canβt seriously be having this conversation now, Fabrice,β she said, calling him by his French name. No one else called him that. She was constantly fascinated by his Ivoirian and French background. He was her man, a picture of melanin, African pride and exoticnessβand even although he enjoyed asserting his alpha maleness over her stubborn feminist nature, she loved him that way. Dating him was like playing Chess. Sometimes she was willing to sacrifice valuable pieces of her ego and heart to let him have his way. Other times, like the queen she was, she held down her pawns, chiseled at his pride and protected her heart from being stolen by him.
This felt like one of such moments, although her weakness for him was potent.
βPlease, letβs talk about something else. And itβs a weekend. After being stressed from a long week, we both donβt need baby talk.β
βAs you desire, ma chatte.β
Toni gave a blushing smile. He always used the term when he wanted to remind her that she belonged to him. Ma Chatte was French for my cat or my pussy. Obviously, the latter definition held Andreβs meaning, even though he would sometimes tell her it was because she was so feline and feisty in her ways. But mostly, he used the term for what it wasβ to seduce her. Presently, his hand was moving a little higher in search of her breast.
She responded readily, banishing the annoyance that had dropped in because of his earlier question. Or maybe it was just her being weak again. Earlier in the relationship, it had been easy to express her grievances to him. These days, she just let things be.
βCompromise,β her friend, Leticia, called it. βYou canβt be in a relationship and not compromise. Get used to concessions.β
And Toni, for a rare moment, took relationship advice from her nymphomaniac friend and conceded. Now, she found out she was doing it a lot.
βHello?β Andre called in a sensuous tone, but in French. βWhere are you?β
And yes, she had learned some French too. Just to please him.
βIβm right here,β she responded, her accent almost as good as his.
She rested fully on her back to take his presented lips, letting in his muscled, six foot plus frame between her legs.
βSo, you wonβt be the mother of my kid?β he asked with harsh desire.
She shook her head. There was no longer annoyance; not when she suddenly desired to feel him within her. Their lovemaking sessions had been irregular recently, with both of them getting occupied by their careers and having little time for each other.
She pushed his briefs away from her most treasured appendage on his body with just one tug, and spread her legs wider.
He went into her tenderly, in his careful manner of never wanting to hurt her. There was a smile in his eyes as he began to move. The type of smile that conveyed he was up to no good. But Toni wasnβt bothered about what it meant. She held him in and enjoyed the pleasure his body gave, which hit all the deep emotional wells in her. They went from silent to feral in no time. Loud moans and masculine grunts came together to disturb the quiet of the night for several minutes until Andre gave himself to pleasure, bucking within her as if he had plans to be lost in there forever.
Heaving hard, they both descended from the peak of their combined ecstasy.
βDid you just cum inside me again, Fabrice?β
βDid I?β A chuckle escaped his lips. Toni gave no reply. Andre was skilled in the art of withdrawing before he had an orgasm. He always bragged about his pullout game, which Toni could attest was topnotch. Tonight, however, he had made no attempt at all. But Toni had lost strength for another argument. Instead, she murmured, βStop doing it.β
Andre shot to his feet, pulling his briefs up.
βCan I speak to you about something?β he asked.
βHopefully, not about kids.β
Andre smiled. Toni went back to a sitting position. He faced her.
βItβs about kids, actuallyβ¦β
βAndre,β she heaved. βNot this night. I canβtβ”
βI have a son,β he revealed. βHeβs just three years old and a few monthsβ¦β
Toni raised a hand but her head was lowered in shock. βWhat?β she whispered.
βI impregnated my former business partnerβs elder sister, just after I lost my wife. I was vulnerable and grieving thenβ¦β
Toni raised her hand again. This time she kept her face on him. βYou have a son?β
βYes.β
βOh God,β she mumbled. βPlease, tell me Iβm dreaming this, Fabrice. Unsay those words.β
βI canβt, unfortunately. I truly have a son.β
βNo, you donβt. This is a joke, Andre Kouassi. This is a joke.β
βNo.β
Toni jumped out of the sofa. βAnd youβre just telling me?!β
βWe have not gotten to the shouting part yet, Tone. Calm down.β
Toni covered her face. βThis is not happening to me.β
βMy sonβs mother got pregnant but didnβt tell me because of her own selfish reasons. She left Nigeria and moved to the UK where she had the boy. He was raised there.β
βSo, youβre saying that you came into my life, got into a serious relationship with me, made me fall in love with you, had me move in with you, played house with me while you were keeping a baby mama somewhere?!β
βShe and I had nothing going on between us asides parenting. And I didnβt know I had a son.β
Toni shook the shock out from her head. βI canβt deal with this right now.β She picked up a cigarette and left the house. Andre followed her but stopped at the window to watch her. She hopped on the hood of his car and proceeded to smoke. He couldnβt tell if she was in tears or not, but with the way she kept flipping her weave backwards, he knew hell awaited him. He was even certain he would lose her once he completed his reveal.
He remained at the window, watching her until she was done with her cigarette. She returned to the living room and turned on the extra lights. With eyes showing her disappointment, she stared at him unflinchingly until he looked away.
βYou said she didnβt tell you she was pregnant right away. When did you eventually find out?β Toni asked.
βAbout ten months ago.β
βAnd you didnβt think I had to know, Andre?β
βI didnβt think youβd be happy to know I have a kid. What we had was amazing and therapeutic. I needed you more than you needed to know the truthββ
βDonβt tell me that. Donβt, Andre! Choose your words carefully from now on. Donβt destroy the little respect I still have for you.β
βToni, I didnβt mean to hide him from you.β
βBut you did! And I was here like a fool, loving you, giving you everything of me, Fabrice! Is that why you started talking marriage and babies and started cumming inside me?! You were preparing me to be a stepmother to your son?!β
Andre was quiet.
βItβs okay. Donβt talk. I donβt even want to hear anything more! Iβm out of here!β
She stomped past him but he went after her and held her hand.
βToni, letβs sit and talk about this, without all the shouting and yelling.β
She gave him another long, hard look. βNo.β
After tugging her hand free from his, she marched into his bedroom. When she came out some minutes later, she was dressed in fresh clothes, clutching a few of her belongings in both hands.
βHelp me with my laptop.β
βSo, weβre not going to talk about this?β
βPlease, help me with my laptop.β
Andre picked up her laptop and glasses from the table.
βCigarettes too.β
He picked those as well and followed her out. She got into her car, spared him no more words and screeched out of his compound as if being chased. Andre returned to the house, deflated. He had seen this day coming, he had anticipated the aftermath, yet he was not prepared for it or for what was to come next. But one thing was certain. He was going to lose Toni.
She was the most difficult woman he had ever been with. She adored him; her feelings for him were probably stronger than they both knew. But her problem stemmed from the unwavering principles on which her pride and heart stood. They both had different definitions of what love and relationships were supposed to be. He believed in marriage and long-term family goals; her views were contrary. And thus, when the fun, excitement, dinner dates, gushy amorousness and savage knacks began to seek a stable sort of arrangement, tiny battles arose.
He had no doubt that he was ready to settle down a second time. The loss of his wife had left a deep hole that only Toni could fill. Now, with his confession about his son, he wondered if it would ever happen.
Β©Sally@moskedapages
Β
In case you’re wondering if this series will have an end, yes it will. I have no reason to abandon it. Read it, enjoy it. It’s here to stay.
Meanwhile if you know you paid for To Tame A Virgin on Thursday, please send me an email. There’s a name but I can’t trace it to any of the email addresses. I don’t want to give it to the wrong person.
Episode 2 of #DHM comes up immediately.
Happy weekend, fm!
Sally. The continuity mama. You know I love you. Starting to look forward to Saturdays on the blog again
Me too. Glad to always be here
Nice one Sally, Saturday’s will be fun now again
T’has been long but today i feel compelled to write something cos tis the sequel to one of my favourite series, welcome back High Mistress.
Thank you for reading
Sally Kenneth dadzie, l love you….take it to the bank. Bye
I love you too, Modupe ?
Okay, I’m here…front row as usual.
Big ups Sally
You’re always welcome
Much love sal
????
Great…. Am book-starved ehn.. Moskedpages seem to satisfy my cravings alone this days.. lemme go and divulge this.. care to join moi??
#july15
#love your enemy
July 15? What’s happening then biko?
Yes reading continues…..thank you Sally.
Fantastic first episode. So good to see that Toni is yet to change – feisty and proud. I still can’t wrap my head around Christie and Folarin’s relationship. If I were in Folarin’s shoes, I’m not sure my marriage would have ever remained the same. I hope that, besides the three main couples, he story will have the other side characters like Laeticia.
The story still unfolds. There’s more for Christie and Folarin….
??? had miserable weekend knowing I have this episode waiting for me and the network was messing up. I like the way this episode started, was nice catching up
Thank you babe
Thanks for the sequel of the fourth finger… This is going to be a jolly ride
It sure is!
Aunty Sally is there anything you write that isn’t good? I keep saying it that you get better each book you bring. Gracias muchos.
So my 1yr 2months hiatus finally ends….Sally,its gonna be a killer “fifth finger”
Wow!! The continuation of the fourth finger yes!!! Yes!!! Yes!!!. Can’t wait to finish reading it. Thank you sally, I never fail to enjoy your work.
You’re welcome, Jane
Weldone Sally…. Nao I ve something to look forward to evry Saturday.
can’t read the full story. its blank.
Please change your browser, check your network. It works fine here on both of my browsers
Licks finger and turns the next page….. Yummy…. I have missed these six people so much
Toni and Andre!!! I recently got my copy of the Fourth Finger, glad to read this
Couldn’t finish reading, don’t knw Wat wrong,
Sally help!!!
If you are using opera mini switch to another browser.
Yep!! Thanks Sally, I did change to Anoda browser & I can read all thru.
Nice write up dear…. I miss u sha
Hi Sally! It over a year I read your book….but I’m back!!!! Miss you..