WHAT BILLIONAIRES TASTE LIKE

“Funny, tedious per se,” she said, shaking her Bob Marley hair style. “I am a factory worker who hustles to step up to my dreams.”

“Yeah, I can see you have been stepping up.” Azuaka Jnr. intoned, staring around her room. “Your step up will be of help to us now.” He looked at her and her cleavage. Sweat was trickling in between.

As she tried to speak the bed creaked. “You have been in California, Agu. Azuaka Jnr. just came to California and now the both of you are in my house with bags. I think one person is missing.” She stared a guessing look at both of them.

Agu quietened; he would want it to sound from Azuaka Jnr. “Nku,” Azuaka Jnr. replied.

“Yes. Where’s that fella now? Is he still in New York?” she asked unhesitatingly.

“Actually that is why we are here.” Azuaka cleared his throat. “Nku is in California as we speak,” Azuaka Jnr. said, with his dark, brooding eyes warning Agu to let him do the talking; the accurate lies with feathers.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

“Wow three campus cronies! What are you guys up to?” Her expectant look came upon Azuaka Jnr. who was rubbing his arms to unfold his prepared lies.

“We have been in touch with Nku about this real estate investment in California. He came down with a white man and Agu and I are part of it. Since we are jobless we decided to be part of the real estate so as to get paid.”

“O boy!” she exclaimed, retying her towel across her bust. “So where do I come in?” she smiled broadly and her dimples dug.

“Agu is homeless,” Azuaka Jnr. continued. “And I’m in California already so we decided to squat with you until we execute the contract,” Azuaka Jnr. said.

She scowled at Agu. “Oh, Agu, does it mean you’ve been sleeping under the bridge all this while or what?”

Agu hissed. “What a shameful thing to say. Actually I have been sleeping in caravans hoping to wake at dawn breathing.” He stole a glance at Azuaka Jnr; he hoped he lied well, at least nothing linking to Monkeys’ software sounded in it. He had a relaxed breath.

Her limpid eyes looked at Agu and then Azuaka Jnr; he rubbed his big nose; lies always made him do that. “You guys are welcome. I mean this is your home. I hope I will get my ten percent?” she smiled at them.

They smiled back. Azuaka Jnr. said, “Why not? Anything for White House baby.” He rubbed her shoulders and his zipper inflated as he rubbed further to her back. Her back was cold, soft pie-smooth. She was relaxed for the first time and it crazed him that she didn’t fight back his touch. He was rubbing through to the hook of her brassiere when she shook her body; it was not about her usual fight, after all she so much needed the touch of a man now. But Azuaka Jnr. had developed calloused palms that she could not endure her skin being ripped off by his needle palms.

“Yeah, Agu, you got to brief him how we survive here,” she said, stood and walked to her perfume. The heady perfume of rose hung over the room as she sprayed behind her ears and neck.

“You wake up early in the morning, fight your way through heavy traffic and keep eating bread, pizza with little or no water.”

They guffawed and Azuaka Jnr. returned his stare at her big backside. I can see it all over you. I must fuck that backside tonight, he thought. Azuaka Jnr. kept at his stare, salivating over the thought of what it would feel like touching it and how the rest of his nights in Lagos would run sleeping with her. Each blink at her backside inspired his strategies; I would whisper Agu to excuse us for some minutes then I will have her quickly. Ten minutes won’t be bad. Ten minutes of her body deserve the task ahead, she thought. She walked to the bed and sat beside Azuaka Jnr. and the bed creaked hugely under her weight.

Darkness swept across them as she turned off the lantern. Ear-ringing silence dominated the room and the bed started a continuous creak as though it was about collapsing; Opula was crawling into it and Azuaka’s stare followed her white towel in darkness. As soon as Opula lay in the bed, he stretched next to her. They could hear their breath; seriously thinking of what to say, who would make the first move.

“I miss you, Azu,” she whispered in one breath. Her husky voice was longing and Azuaka Jnr. sensed it.

But he was wondering if Agu had zoned out or actually heard that. Will I ever have the time to whisper Agu to leave our presence? He thought.

Her hand lolled on his chest, down to his stomach and found his right hand. She had no option than to bring the same callous palm on her breast; the warmth of a beef from microwave.

He started thinking while he touched her; BY this time tomorrow Monkeys software will begin.

Her invitation was honored with a prompt straddle across her waist. She was scared of his rapists’ moves; how they impatiently ignored exploration.

The world will go broke while we get rich. Yes.

He grabbed her towel, grasping like a madman untying a wrapped cake. He sucked at her breasts with strange moisture. As the pace of a wheel in the wind, he pounded into her vagina. Opula moaned. She moaned something that sounded like “Please hit me hard,” in Spanish.

No more poverty. I will buy a yacht, a private jet, a Ferrari, houses and em… I will keep rendering the world broke.

Agu was deep asleep, wondering if the creaking of bed in his ears was in his dream. His eyes opened and a noisier moan from Opula blared into his ears. He rose to his feet like a bat from hell and left the room. The door banged. Opula wished she could control her moan. Azuaka Jnr. stopped thinking, held her breasts firmly as they reached orgasm.

Agu could sense the smoke of a cigarette nearby. It was Azuaka Jnr.

“Pardon me, son of man. I forgot your presence so soon,” Azuaka Jnr. apologized.

Agu quietened, only stroking his hair.

“Opula says we are eating pizza for dinner. You can help us fetch it.” His voice was coming from an unused satisfaction. He squeezed a hundred dollar note into his hand and puffed, staring at Agu walk away.

“Azu,” Opula sounded from behind, holding his broad. She wanted to ask him why his palms were callous and why he did not explore and what he was thinking when he pounded her in such an angry manner. She wanted to ask him all that. She struggled to look into his eyes through darkness. “Are you all right?”

He puffed and soon recognized the cigarette under an intense pressure of his fingers. “Joblessness makes human beings lesser beasts than dogs, Opula. Over there in Texas I did bricklaying just to survive. Can you touch pig and smell good?” he groaned and she shook her Bob Marley hairstyle.

Was that why he pounded me that way, hmmm? She thought.

“Everything is going to be fine. After the real estate contract we will be fine.” She pressed her bust into his buffed back. “We can break the bed before he returns.”

He sighed, “Babe can we chill for now? My erection is thinking about money.”

“But you’re on it already,” she said and looked at him and their stare met. “Isn’t my man into a real estate already, eh?”

Her touch on his naked, scanty chest sent cables of goose pimples through his body; his zipper was arcing from cold spines.

“Go in and spread your legs.” As she started walking away, he gazed upon her. “I will be with you in a moment.”

The door banged; she had gone into the room and he kept puffing and listening to his thought: After the Monkeys’ software, I will be fine. I will run away with my money and settle down with a virgin white girl in London. A virgin girl deserves my money not you. Wayback on Campus you were a virgin. You came down to California and lost it to these dudes. Rubbish! He cursed.