My Very First Time

Sex? People say its wonderful. Beautiful and very pleasurable. Well, maybe today I think that way. When I had my first sexual experience at sixteen though, it was the worst experience of my life then…and even till now.

My father had gotten a very big government contract shortly after my sixteenth birthday and this had enabled us to move from an average family to a wealthy one. I had gone from a public school to a private school to finish my secondary school education. To my parents and my very jovial only brother, that had been the very best move. To me though, it was a terrible move. Although my former school had been a public one, the teachers had been dedicated- very strict and I dare say, much more knowledgeable about my education than my new school. What was worse? I had gone from one of the most popular girls to a nobody in the new private school.  Yes, there were some girls and even guys who wanted to hang with me. I felt they were drab and weren’t even better off than I was. I wanted more.

Everyone I wanted to hang with was either the daughter or son of somebody. Senators, ministers, generals, commissioners and all that. My father wasn’t really on the list though we had become very wealthy.

I didn’t like that I was no more the popular girl I used to be. I wanted to be in the clique of the most popular girls and I sought for ways to join their league. They wore different shoes, carried different school bags, wore makeups, sprayed designer perfumes and talked a lot about boys and partying. I couldn’t boast of the last two. Maybe this was the reason I wasn’t as popular to the boys who all seemed to want girlfriends from the top league. Come to think of it, I had won several beauty pageants in my former school. Here though, I felt all the other girls were more beautiful.

One day after classes, I stopped Angel in her tracks. That was a big deal. Angel was a senator’s child and the leader of the top clique of girls. There wasn’t a moment like even then that she wasn’t surrounded by other girls. I had wanted to catch her alone but, it hadn’t been possible so, I had to talk to her anyway.

I told her I wanted to be her friend. I was terribly ashamed of doing so but, I wanted to get in. She had laughed and her friends had joined in. The amusing thing was that she asked me my name. We were in the same class for two months to the day and she hadn’t even known my name! I had obediently told her. After that, she walked away with her friends, not having given me any answer. I had never felt so humiliated. Well, I had tried and decided to put all of that behind me. 

Is the Singles life more fun?

Why do married women and men get into relationships and soon enough, they want to convince the singles around them that they miss their old lives? Do the singles actually have it better?

Once while leaving a building complex, I ran into a married older man who was a friend of my older friend and thus, we were on a hello greeting basis. I remember that the way he shook my hand made me uneasy. He was older but married and had no business being flirty with me. While I resented that, the only thought that stayed with me was: married people are always looking for an excuse to cheat.

Was that extreme? I don’t think so but then, its just an opinion. The funny thing is, the married think the other side is greener…the singles think so too. I have once said, am a bigger fan of the singles life than of the married but then, I keep growing and I keep questioning myself.

Marilyn Monroe said it’s better to be unhappy alone than unhappy with someone- I agree. The single one calls every shot in his/her life. I believe he/she is even more daring as there’s no one to really consider or answer to. No one reads you a sermon on responsibility when you mess up as much as the married one. You go out whenever and come in whenever and you don’t have to worry about answering to anyone.

Its not all rosy though, ask Rihanna, we all want the same thing: we all want love. Am I saying the single one has no love in his/her life? Not at all. But then, somehow, navigating the murky mazes in life as a team is usually a blessing. Some researchers even suggest that married people on average live longer than the single people. Let’s not even forget that no one man or woman is better off on his own or her own especially as the days go by. If nothing else, you might need someone to talk to down the road. Someone to share those happy moments or even your deepest fears with.

What do I think though? I think no one side takes all the credit. It takes courage to say “I do” to someone and believe that it is for a lifetime. Likewise, it takes courage to just determine to go through life alone.  If you take the step to commit to someone, take two more steps to fight for it. It isn’t always about the challenges, it is about forgetting why in the world you took the first step in the first place. If you take the courage to stay single, have all the fun then cos you might be the hero of the other side.

Kusee’s Diary: Chanced

I was never one to lie idly while a man thrust into me during sex. I felt that was too submissive and sex wasn’t enjoyed that way. So, I work hard, a lot harder than most men I have been with. When sex isn’t for the money (when last wasn’t it about?), I wanted a good time for myself too.

Now, I pushed him away from me and quickly went to work. I sidled downwards and took the length of him in both hands and squeezed…wasn’t the killer squeeze but would hurt a bit. The joy was in a little pain. It got a little bigger if that was possible. Have I told you he was massive? He was…yes, Mike was…. Now, I didn’t want him squirting his juice while I was still years around the corner but, I took him in my mouth and licked a bit. He moaned while trashing about helplessly on the bed. He was so overcome.

“Plea…ple…please…” He was saying.

Please what? I dimly wondered knowing he didn’t even know what he meant. There was nothing a woman wouldn’t get from any man in this state. So, what did I want from this guy right now?

I held the thought as I gave a deeper and more sensual suck. He screamed. Now, he was ripe for me. I wanted all of him inside of me and I moved upwards while still holding onto him. When I slid into him, he nearly exploded us. With great and fast thrusts…I didn’t even know who was riding who any more. I was just carried away. When I came, I was aware that it had happened for us with seconds of each other. I rolled away, breathing hard. My hand was on his chest and the mad beating of his chest was in harmony…or disharmony with mine. For some reason, I sat up a bit and looked over at him. His massive man was now as limp as a small…rat?

Well, I laid down back, willing myself to savour even for once, the time I have been with a man after sex without the need to jump up and do something else. That for me was to create both a distance and to just feel nothing beyond another itch scratched.

He got up and looked into my face…HOLY JES!!! The stench? That stench! Where had I perceived that before…? As I looked at Mike’s face, it appeared to become something else. First a snake face with fangs only it reminded me of a monkey. I jumped up to scream and he began to laugh madly. It rang like a dog. The walls began closing in on me as everything- ceiling, fan, and curtains began to shake. I began screaming….

Kusee’s Diary: The Stalker

I am Kusee. I don’t get scared. This became my mantra as I drove all the way from Ritzzy to my home. Mercifully, Joy and Jake ignored me all the way. Jake as usual, Joy…not so usual. She pretended to be fascinated with all the great stuffs happening everywhere but inside the car. That was fine by me. I hope she grows up to learn to ignore all the things I cared about. If not..well, another fuck-head wouldn’t be too bad.

I drove to my gate and honked steadily while watching my back through the rear and side  mirrors looking for what? A car that might be stalking me? Well, yes, I live in a really posh house with posh surroundings but, I didn’t even know if the man whom I had fucked earlier even owned a bicycle, so? That didn’t stop me looking or even ease my tension.

The gate was swung open and before my gateman had nodded his perfunctory wave in greeting, I was already at the door of my garage. He came running over after locking the gate.

“Ma good day”

“Help Jake out of the car and if Joy cannot find her shoes, find them for her” That was my response. Yes, Joy always misplaced her shoes even though they might be right in front of her but no, I don’t care much for the little people.

I believe that the baddest of humans were those who once cared too much…like I used to.

“Mum, my shoes?”

“Moses would get them” I replied Joy-typical

He was helping out Jake first of all.

The door of my house was flung open just as I lifted my hand to knock at the door but, noticed a shadow beside the wall of the house.  It was as though someone threw a bucket of cold water on me. Mike?! I looked behind me and was glad that Moses and the kids were now inside but, Moses…he was needed here too. The only other person who should be home was my nineteen years old house girl. Where the fuck was she anyway? I was home late too so she definitely should be home but,…I took off my stilettos, kept one and took up one.

I would only go down fighting. I quietly snuck to the side of the wall and waited for the shadow to make a move.

Death is Freedom.

Only death could drown the pain.

Death, the ultimate helper

Matching on to relieve

Matching on to deliver.

 

No wonder am intrigued by death

No wonder am not afraid.

 

When you can’t see the road

When you die more than you live

Then be dead all you can

For death is freedom come at last.