Chapter 5 Remembering first love

“Hmm Opula,” he said and vividly recalled he left her in Enugu a virgin. “Oh let her Jericho wall still be intact,” he laughed at the thought of Jericho wall. It was Opula, who brought about the idea of calling virginity Jericho wall— it was in the occasion of Opula suggesting to Nku if it was possible to remain a virgin in law school. “You need to collapse my Jericho wall Nku,” she had said and Nku had asked, “What’s Jericho wall?” After she had smiled she replied, “Virginity,” He knew he did the right thing by promising to consume her virginity in their matrimonial bed. Law school took her away from him then he decided to hustle and get the megabucks that would keep her comfortable and fulfilled in life. “But what about me?” he asked himself and had a sip of his Green Monster. Would she believe that Senator Madu has so collapsed my Jericho wall that grasshoppers can now walk over it? Nku shook his head, had a sip and shook his head again. He smacked his lips and its pinkness polished forth.

The Hugo Boss fragrance came through his nostrils and he got startled, whirled around to see Sen. Madu standing right behind him with hopeful smiles. He armed himself with the knife close by. “Enough, sir, I am tired,” he said and held his buttocks, “I can’t feel my anus anymore,” he said, holding the knife in front and moving backward.

“I am not here for that. I know when to have sex with you if I want to. I just want to let you know my wife just arrived. You can now serve dinner and join us at the dining,” he said and kissed in the air. “Nice lips,” he said to Nku.

“I’m not joining you people at the dining. I have eaten mine here,” he replied, staring at the marbled floor.

“Why? Why?”

Nku kept quiet, looked up at him and looked away to the wall, his heart pounding.

Sen. Madu walked away gently.

The knife fell off his hands and clanked on the marbled floor. He bowed his head to the cupboard and wept like a beaten wife. Sen. Madu was leaving him pale and drawn. Ife, Ife, I’m doing this because you told me to, he thought. He wept on.

He forcefully dragged a smile across his face as he served dinner. Nku was astounded by the heavy looks of a smiling woman whose whitely varnished teeth and voluble character resurrected a once dead atmosphere. Nku had an eyeful of her all-round thickness, and smell of a pungent perfume that wanted to make him throw up. When Nku came closer, he saw that she was thicker than he saw afar, with bust measuring up to her jaw.

“This must be Nk, the cook,” she said in a manner of decency and brought out her soft-baby palm for a handshake. “Aku,” she introduced herself. “Nice to meet you,” she locked eyes with Nku.

Nku got stared down by Sen. Madu and threw his stare to the wall. But I got to correct that impression. I am Nku not Nk. Nk sounded feminine which was Sen. Madu’s idea. “I am Nku, Madame, not Nk,” he intoned and warmly shook hands with her. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Em,” Sen. Madu said, clearing his throat, “Brown rice is best eaten hot.” He opened the dishes and they quickly sat down to eat. Nku wanted to walk away but Mrs. Aku gave him the honor to have dinner with them, so he had the next seat beside her and refused sitting opposite to them to avoid locking eyes with Sen. Madu.

She led the conversation at dinner, ludicrously narrating how the middleclass in London reserved their fowl water for flushing of toilet whenever much water bill haunted them, how difficult it was now to have British passpot, Igbo and Yoruba struggling over dominance in London. She had a taste of the Green Monster juice and gave Nku a high five. Nku was expecting discussion about her children. He looked forward to that. Sen. Madu had never spoken anything about his family life and when Nku first came to the house all the walls looked first class without a large family frame with gorgeous faces of children smiling stilly. Nku wanted to cut in with the conversation about her children until she said, “I will raise my children in Lagos, honey. What do you think?” She turned brightly to Sen. Madu and he replied, “Yes we will,” paused and looked at Nku before resuming his food.

“Can I go away Madame? I’m pressed.” Nku said.

“Sure.” she replied, watching him walk away, and having wet vagina for his heavy features, his big biceps and broad shoulders that sank into firm six packs that tried to force themselves out of his shirt. She looked forward to having him tonight; kissing those kill-me lips of his, if by luck she could sneak out to his room. “He is a nice cook. I prefer a male chef to a female chef.”

“Why did you say so?” asked Sen. Madu.

“Female chefs don’t know their boundary. Next will be serving you food in bed and next will be fucking Christmas out of you,” she said and didn’t hope he would say anything to that.

Gently and quietly they ate.

The dinner party buzzed at the sitting room. Nku had a little time with them, partook in cutting the gigantic chocolate cake before pulling over to his room. He loved the way Mrs. Aku kept Sen. Madu busy. Her dance was a waltz. Dbanj’s song, ‘Emergency’ held them together.

Nku had a deep relief. He was going to have the best rest ever. As he lay in his bed, he flipped through his phone and the dimpled face of Opula showed up. Her watery face, thought of her virginity and the sonorous collection of Dbanj that blasted at the sitting room closed the pages of his consciousness before he started snoring like a pig; sleep he had not had for eight months; since Sen. Madu started touching him and penetrating his anus with his venous penis.

There was a heavy knock on Nku’s door, as he woke from sleep, and staggered to the door. Aku stood smiling at him once he opened. Nku rubbed his sleepy eyes to behold Aku in her transparent lingerie that flashed her pale big breasts with annoying huge nipples, and hairy vagina that called on him. “Won’t you let me in, cutie?” she obliged and Nku made way for her.

“I came to appreciate you for the nice dinner you made,” she said coldly, and imagined him busying his pink lips in her vagina right away.

“Oh thank you, ma.” he replied.

She shifted to him, “What is on your hair?” she said, pretending to remove a strand of fiber from his hair; they were much close as he pressed her big breasts on his huge chest. “I need a fuck gift from you right now, I won’t tell your boss,” she whispered, squeezing his buttocks and smacking her lips to kiss him; she caught his lips and he kissed a little while and pulled from her.

“Stop this, stop…” he pled and when she tried to press on, he left her and locked himself in the bathroom.

She thrusted her finger into her vagina and felt that she was wet as paper in snow. She sighed and walked away disappointed.