She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling and not bothering to shield her eyes from the glare of the blazing fluorescent bulb. She would rather stare into the white depths of the bulb than look at her surroundings. She felt weird, like she was in a dream. She had felt this way all her life; she had always felt slightly detached from her environment, like she were a ghost that looked out into the world through the eyes of a stranger. Her mind was a great maze which she was sometimes reluctant to explore because she was afraid of what she would encounter.

It was hard to imagine that she, Chilo Odigidawu, would descend as low as she had descended these past few weeks. First, it was Fola, now, it was Joe’s turn.

“I am so cheap” she muttered aloud.

Whose fault was it that she was behaving in a most disgraceful manner? Hers, of course. She allowed Fola reawaken the lusts that had driven her into masturbation years back. She had had the chance to turn back from the road that Fola was taking her down, but she, blinded by her wild passions had stupidly followed him. Now she was a walking mass of raging hormones; a junkie who was hooked on the high called orga.sm.

She hated herself for her weakness, but she was stuck.

“Lord have mercy on me” she mumbled gloomily. She sighed heavily and turned on her belly. As she did, the door to her left opened and Joe walked in.

Joe, beautiful Joe. Joe of the mysterious smiles. Joe who never showed his emotions but kept everything well hidden under a smiling mask. She had set out to find out what lay behind his enigmatic smile, but she had come up with nothing. His shell was too hard to crack.

When she had gone visiting that weekend, she hadn’t known what to expect. She had wondered what kind of friend he was. He surely wasn’t a trustworthy person if he could be so sneaky as to invite her over behind Fola’s back. She had pointed this out to him and Joe, shocked, had defended himself.

“He never talks about you so I assumed that things didn’t work out between you two” Joe had spluttered, looking very embarrassed.

“He never talks about me??” Chilo had gasped out, feeling a mixture of anger and relief.

“No he doesn’t” Joe replied. “Or are you guys still dating?”

Chilo hadn’t hesitated before replying “No we aren’t”.

Then again, under her breath “We never were.”

It seemed like they were using each other, after all. He never spoke of her to anybody, just like she hadn’t breathed a word to anybody, not even Andrela, of his existence.
That same day, to Chilo’s bewilderment, she and Joe had kissed. The kiss had been so passionate that, when he had taken off her shirt and bra, she hadn’t minded. Nor had she minded when he had proceeded to handle and do amazing things to her bosoms with his hands and lips.

She had been afraid that he would demand to sleep with her, but to her relief, he had assured her that se.x was the last thing on his mind. He told her that he just wanted to handle her, that was all.

And handle her he did. By the time he was done with her bosoms, they felt like they had just been through a wringer. Joe was a bosom fetish, as she got to know as time went by. He seemed to be completely enamoured with her bosoms, despite the fact that they were saggy and a bit flat.

She loved those delicious sensations that enveloped her each time she was aroused and Joe was doing a good job stoking the flames of her passions, but guilt came hand in hand with pleasure.

Chilo lived with a burden of guilt. Guilt at her own wantonness with Fola and Joe. She was visiting him alone for the first time, yet here she was, bosoms exposed to the air while he had a field day with them. What kind of cheap tramp was she? Dear God, Mother must never find out! She hadn't been brought up this way. She came from a good christian home, so her apalling behaviour baffled her. She hated herself for her weakness and lack of self-control.

Chilo watched as he approached the bed. He was a muscular man, and his muscles rippled smoothly under the animal print shirt he wore. Strangely enough, she felt no stirring. Deep down, she knew she wasn’t attracted to him that way.

“Hey Sunshine, did you miss me?” he asked cheerfully.

He called her ‘sunshine’ because he claimed her smiles lit up the room like the sun.

“You wish” she commented drily. After another licking and sucking session, he had stepped out to get bottles of cold water.

He chuckled and dropped the bottles on the floor. Flopping down on the bed beside her, he leaned over and nuzzled her neck. Something flared in her heart, but she squashed it down.

In a way, though he was a lot more reserved than Fola, he was also very sensitive and he tugged at her heart strings in a way that Fola never could. She had been over to his place like five to six times, and each time left feeling more messed up than the last time.

“Joe?”

“Yes, baby?” his words were muffled, because his mouth was still buried deep in her neck.

“What do you want from me?”

His motions stilled and he raised his head up to stare into her face.

She stared into the beautiful brown eyes and felt herself falling into them. With great effort, she pulled herself back and focused on the question on ground.

He frowned slightly and said: “I think the question should be what do you want for yourself.”

What, indeed?

She knew the answer even before the thought formed in her mind.

Smiling, she hugged him and said “forget I asked that question, okay?”

He looked unsure. “Are you sure? You must have been thinking some pretty deep things to have asked that.”

'Daggers are hid in men’s smiles', Shakespeare had sagely noted centuries back. Chilo turned a very sharp smile at Joe and said “Baby boy, I said forget it na, haba.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

His face cleared. He smiled back, leaned down and kissed her. From that point, he began to work his way down.

While Joe was busy ministering to her bosoms, Chilo’s eyes began to move round the little room. She had always avoided looking too closely at Joe’s one room apartment whenever she was around, but this time, she let her eyes wander round every cranny of the room.

O yes, she definitely knew what she wanted for herself. . .

*******************************************

After that afternoon, she stopped picking Joe’s calls.

As for Fola, she decided to do away with him permanently the day she forced him to come to school to come see her.

He had tried every means to avoid coming over, but when she had refused to budge, he had grudgingly made his way down.

“Where are you?” he asked impatiently over the phone when he got to school.

“Where did you drop?”

“I’m at Sports Centre”

“Find your way to New Hall. It’s not too far from Sport’s Centre”

“Can’t you come to Sport’s Centre to meet me?”

She sighed in exasperation. ”Fola, I said come down to New Hall. I will meet you half way.”

She had hurriedly thrown on some clothes and made her way towards the Sports Centre. Sure enough, she saw his lanky frame trudging along the UNILAG’s tarred road that led to the university's main gate. There were a few stragglers perambulating the area, Afro sporting boys looking for whom to ‘toast’, but she had eyes only for the fellow walking towards her. She had never noticed the slight stoop to his shoulders, or his bow legs. And why, for God’s sakes, was he wearing dark colours, knowing fully well he was already very dark in complexion??

She felt irritation stir in her guts. How on earth had she been able to endure him for so long?

After favouring him with the briefest of hugs, she suggested they visit one of the numerous canteens on campus, but he declined. Instead, he asked her to take him to the quietest area on campus. Chilo, knowing what he wanted, calmly lied that there was no quiet place around. This only helped to further aggravate him.

About an hour of aimless wandering later, in which they barely spoke a word to each other, he announced that he had to leave because he had an appointment.

“What kind of appointment could you possibly have by 8.30pm, on a Sunday night?” Chilo asked disbelievingly.

He mumbled something unintelligible. She didn’t bother asking him to repeat himself because she just wasn’t interested.

“Can you give me transport fare back?” Fola shamelessly asked.

Chilo couldn’t believe her ears.

“Why should I give you t-fare?” she asked incredulously.

“I was in a hurry, so I forgot to bring my wallet with me” he replied.

“So how did you get here then?”

“I had a few loose change in my pocket so I had to squeeze myself to come here. I knew that if I didn’t come, you will say that I deliberately chose to stay away.”

YOUR COMING WAS TOTALLY USELESS AND OF NO BENEFIT! she wanted to scream, but she held her tongue.

“Oya na, squeeze yourself back” she said aloud, sarcastically.

“Baby, I don’t have a single kobo with me.”

She stared at him askance. So because she had forced him to come over {which she regretted, by the way}, he was going to ensure that she paid his way back?? That was it; Fola was out of her life. The stingy asss iidiot was useless and good for nothing, except to bring pleasure to her hungry body. But even THAT had worn thin.

She remembered the last time they had gone to the match box house. She had been bored throughout the duration of their stay and was very glad when the whole ordeal was over. When they had made their way back to the bus stop, Fola had brought out a bundle of cash from his pocket, and using the light from his phone, had begun to sort through the bundle. When he was done, he had handed her something.

“What's this?” she had asked. What she held in her hands was smooth and had a thick nylon feel to it.

“It’s the new naira notes” he said blandly. “The CBN just issued them today.”

O yes, she remembered that the government had mentioned something about that some months back.

“O really?” she asked, unimpressed.

He took one note from her and squeezed it. Nothing happened to it. It simply went back to its former shape. He then proceeded to give her a brief lecture on the benefits of the new naira note.

She listened with mild interest, hoping in the back of her mind that he would add to the paltry sum in her hands. However, the only thing he did was flag a bus down and give the conductor a hundred naira for the fare. As she got on the bus, he squeezed three more notes into her hands and bid her good night.

When she got back to the hostel, she discovered that he had given her eighty five naira. Fifty naira, twenty naira, ten naira and five naira. All new notes. Add the sixty naira broken down into three minty fresh, newly released twenty naira notes to the eighty five naira, and the total was a ‘princely’ sum of one hundred and forty five naira.

Chilo was mortified.

Recalling this incident, Chilo was incensed. However, she reined in her anger and stomped back to her room. Going straight to her handbag which hung in her locker, she brought out her purse and searched it for the lowest denomination she could find. She came up with two hundred naira, and decided to give it to him. Let the stingy asss know that she was a lot better than he was.

Fuming, she made her way back to the New Hall quadrangle where he waited.

“Take!” she spat. It was all she could do not to fling the money at him. Or slap the black out of his face.

“Baby, are you angry?” he asked innocently.

Chilo bristled. The fool knew what he was doing. He had come with every intention of collecting the money he had spent on t-fare for his visit.

She looked at him with disgust and without saying one more word, walked away.

Later that night, at about 11pm, a text message came into her phone. She knew, without even opening the message, that Fola was the sender. She could feel the vibrations of his miserliness flowing through the mobile phone under her pillow.

She was proved right when moments later, the irritating all caps message appeared on her phone screen.

BABY, I’M SORRY FOR TODAY.
NEVER DOUBT THAT I CARE.
I’M ALREADY MISSING YOUR TOUCH.
FOLA.

Chilo felt her hackles rising and she had an almost overwhelming urge to smash the phone against the iron bunk.

The . . . the . . . CRETIN!!!!

*******************************************

They were sitting in the hostel visiting room. In times past she would have invited him up to her room, but those times were gone. Male visitors were no longer permitted into the female hostels, and vice versa. Final year female students still recalled those dark days when they would be dashing butt na.ked from the bathroom to their rooms, only to collide headlong with a discomfited male visitor on his way to either his girlfriend, course mate or sister’s room. Of course the girl would hold her bosoms, scream dramatically in sheer embarrassment and run back to the bathroom, while the caller would duck his head and shuffle away as fast as possible, trying all the while not to burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter. Chilo herself had once been caught doing ‘shotput’ in the bathroom by some workmen who came unannounced to check out the bathroom’s wall tiles. She had never been so embarrassed in her entire life. She had been forced to resort to ‘shot putting’ because the lavatory was a veritable germ factory, and the last thing she wanted was to contract hard core candidiasis. Out of fear of toilet infections, some girls shat in their rooms, packaged the waste inside nylon and polythene bags and daintily flung it over the fence and into the farm lands behind the hostels. God help you if you happened to be passing by when one of these shiit bombs came sailing through the sky like guided missiles. You could end up baptised in mounds of aromatic waste products. It was small wonder the banana trees in those farms produced very big, healthy bananas. Rumour had it that the plantain trees gave even bigger yield.

She would have preferred a quieter place for the conversation that was about to take place, but she didn’t trust herself, so she opted to receive her caller in the zero privacy of the hostel visiting room.

He had taken her by surprise. She hadn’t been picking his calls, so he had decided to take the bull by the horns and drop in unannounced.

Chilo had been utterly speechless when the hall porter had led her to where he sat. He was the last person she expected to see.

Now they sat side by side, silent for the time being. That was one thing she loved about him. She could sit silently with him for hours and not feel any awkwardness. The opposite was the case with his friend.

“You still haven’t given me any tangible reason for avoiding me”, he spoke up.

Chilo sighed.”O Joe, what do you want me to say? Should I give you excuses? Believe me when I say excuses will be more pleasant to hear than the plain truth.”

“Try me” he said gruffly.

She hesitated. He wasn’t looking at her, but his profile was turned her direction. His visage seemed to be hewn out of stone. There was a quiet dignity about his person that made it difficult for her to tell him the truth, but she had to nonetheless. He was too nice a person, anyways.

“Do you remember the last time we were together?” she began.

He nodded. ”Yes, I do.”

“Do you remember the question I asked?”

He tried to think back. “No I don’t o. Remind me”

She compressed her lips. How could he remember, when he had been too intent on her bosoms.

“I asked you what you wanted from me.”

A light came on in his eyes and he nodded his head vigorously. “And I answered that you should rather ask yourself what you want for yourself”

Chilo dipped her head and mumbled “yeah. . . you sure did.” Aloud, she said: “Well, you see, I asked myself and I came up with an answer.” She paused then.

He waited for her to continue.

She sighed and said “the answer that came to me does not include you, Joe. Let me be very frank with you; you remind me of the the things I am trying to escape from in life.”

His face hardened. “How do you mean, sunshine?”

She began drumming her fingers on the arm of the chair she sat on. When she was agitated, she drummed her fingers.

“Everything. Whenever I am coming to your place, I see things that make me unhappy; things that remind me of how much I hate lack. That whole environment where you live in, its. . .its . . .” She looked at him helplessly. “I don’t know how to put this diplomatically. . .” Her voice trailed off.

“What you are trying to say is, I remind you of poverty.” He stated matter-of-factly.

Embarrassed, she kept silent.

He gave her a brittle smile. “Do you think you are the only one trying to break free from poverty?”

“Joe, you don’t understand” she pleaded. She could see his jaw working. They were clenching and unclenching. She knew she had upset him, but it couldn’t be helped.

“All my life things have never been easy. It has made me develop a phobia for poverty and each time I am at your place, it’s like I am going backwards. I just don’t want to be reminded of . . .”

He slammed his fist on the arm of the chair, startling and cutting her off.

“Do you think it is my fault that I haven’t been able to secure a job at my age?" he snarled. The brown eyes flashed, his mouth was twisted and his deep voice had deepened even further.

"Do you think I am not trying? Do you think I am comfortable living in a stinky face-me-i-face-you dump, while my mates are out there driving the best cars?? Do you think I am happy in my condition?”

Taken aback, Chilo opened her mouth to say something but he shushed her,

“Thank you, sunshine, you have said enough.”

Abruptly, he got up and dusted the seat of the faded jean trousers he wore. She hurriedly got up with him.

When he turned to face her, the mask was back on. He gave her one of his enigmatic smiles. However, the smile had lost some of its mystery; she had caught a glimpse of the rage that bubbled just beneath.

He bent and kissed her full on the mouth.

“Chichi, opetempe, let me carry my bad luck away from you. I don’t want to be the one to drag you back and remind you of the poverty of your father’s house” he said in derisive tones. “Sunshine, I’m out”.

And just like that, he was out of her life.

She stood blinking stupidly at his broad, retreating back. He never once looked back as he moved swiftly out of visiting room, past New Hall's roundabout and out into the open road.

Slowly, she sat down on the chair, and as she did, she caught a movement through the corner of her eye. She looked back, just in time to see the couple who had been in the room with them adjust themselves. She could almost see the girl’s ears twitching. They had been keenly watching the drama between her and Joe.

She hissed and muttered loud enough for them to hear.

“Aproko people. Eke is my hobby.”

Shifting her buttocks on the hard, springy seat, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Too bad about Joe. He was a nice guy, but he just had to be told the truth. He couldn’t understand how much she hated what he represented. He couldn’t understand the driving force behind the innumerable dates she forced herself to go on, in the hope that she would get an extra one thousand or two to add to the paltry allowance father gave her twice a month. The anxiety of what tomorrow would bring was her burden, and no one shared in it.

Too bad about Joe, but the truth had to be told.

She let her mind slowly go blank, trying hard not to remember the past. . . She must have dozed off because she was jolted out of her slumber by her vibrating phone that sat on her laps. She picked it up and peered at the screen.

Paul was calling. . .

Surprise! Surprise!!... Ishi has done it again ooh , buh this time in quick succession...thanks to the Easter break.
On a note: what's the essence of FOLA being the NEMESIS of Chilo while in the storyline so far no 'real' hardcore act experienced
Oga Mazi ur utmost review of the above query is begging...don't stop the progressive flow Ishilove cos u re still on top.

Mucokey:
On a note: what's the essence of FOLA being the NEMESIS of Chilo while in the storyline so far no 'real' hardcore act experienced
Oga Mazi ur utmost review of the above query is begging...don't stop the progressive flow Ishilove cos u re still on top.

Hmmm, seems you have not been reading between the lines...

Okay, let me invite a regular reader and literature buff... Can naptu2 or Larry Sun answer Mucokey's question?

Mucokey: Surprise! Surprise!!... Ishi has done it again ooh , buh this time in quick succession...thanks to the Easter break.
On a note: what's the essence of FOLA being the NEMESIS of Chilo while in the storyline so far no 'real' hardcore act experienced
Oga Mazi ur utmost review of the above query is begging...don't stop the progressive flow Ishilove cos u re still on top.

Fola re-ignites the fire that she's trying to suppress. Think about it this way. A man is addicted to alcohol. He manages to break the addiction. Then he has this friend who always shows up at his house with a bottle of gin. That friend would be his nemesis.

Garth Brooks sang a song titled "Long Neck Bottle". The lyrics go.

Longneck bottle, let go of my hand
Hey jukebox, don't start playin' that song again
'Cause there's a girl at home who loves me
You know she won't understand
Longneck bottle, let go of my hand

Hey, barroom mirror on the wall
Go stare at someone else
Don't show the world the fool I am
Just keep it to yourself

Longneck bottle, let go of my hand
Hey jukebox, don't start playin' that song again
'Cause there's a girl at home who loves me
You know she won't understand
Longneck bottle, let go of my hand

Chilo knows that the addiction can destroy her, but anytime she meets Fola, "that thing" pulls her hand and takes her to places that she doesn't want to go. (By "that thing" I mean the urge).

naptu2:

Fola re-ignites the fire that she's trying to suppress.

But she is still a 'virgin'

ITbomb:
But she is still a 'virgin'

Yep! Virgins have hormones too.

naptu2:

Fola re-ignites the fire that she's trying to suppress. Think about it this way. A man is addicted to alcohol. He manages to break the addiction. Then he has this friend who always shows up at his house with a bottle of gin. That friend would be his nemesis.

naptu2: Chilo knows that the addiction can destroy her, but anytime she meets Fola, "that thing" pulls her hand and takes her to places that she doesn't want to go. (By "that thing" I mean the urge).

CORRECT!! I couldn't have said it better.

You see Mucokey, you are just looking at the references to se.x and Chilo's unending dalliances with 'losers' (to borrow Mazi's word) without looking out for the underlying message. The theme of this story is not se.x. Rather, its a girl's battle with her weakness while still trying to remain in right standing with God. A time will come when she will be forced to look, I mean really LOOK at herself in the mirror.

Guy, you are making me jump the story jor!

Why do I feel like we are in a classroom here...?

@ ishi dear,
Don't get all worked up over him. Didn't you notice he still can't take his eyes off your thread even after yesterday? The guy is addicted and hate himself for it. I get lots of peeps like him on my thread, I just ignore them and continue my work.

Try it my way, and see if it works. (There's a plan B, it involves ITBombing him until we Brokoto his a'r'se. But ur thread will suffer it dearly).

Ishilove: Why do I feel like we are in a classroom here...?

Aha! Classroom. A person who is addicted to cigarettes is actually addicted to and dependent on nicotine. It's easier for us to relate to because the chemical is ingested (it exists outside and is brought into the body by the action of smoking).

When you have sex/an orgasm, certain chemicals are released in the body ( eg Dopamine, Norepinephrine, Oxytocin, and Serotonin) and you can easily become addicted to them in the same way you can become addicted to nicotine.

naptu2:

Aha! Classroom. A person who is addicted to cigarettes is actually addicted to and dependent on nicotine. It's easier for us to relate to because the chemical is ingested (it exists outside and is brought into the body by the action of smoking).

When you have s.ex/an or.gasm, certain chemicals are released in the body ( eg Dopamine, Norepinephrine, Oxytocin, and Serotonin) and you can easily become addicted to them in the same way you can become addicted to nicotine.

Wow!!

No wonder folks are so worked up over a few minutes of jerking

Mazi_Omenuko: @ ishi dear,
Don't get all worked up over him. Didn't you notice he still can't take his eyes off your thread even after yesterday? The guy is addicted and hate himself for it. I get lots of peeps like him on my thread, I just ignore them and continue my work.

Try it my way, and see if it works. (There's a plan B, it involves ITBombing him until we Brokoto his a'r'se. But ur thread will suffer it dearly).

Lol. Mynd has taken care of it. Thanks dear, I will keep it in mind

Hi Ishi.

You still have your stuff, I see

Sorry I couldn't follow this story. Stories like this aren't very safe for me, you see. But I'm sure you haven't missed me at all. You seem to have all you need in fans and critics here.

I will be looking in posts made by people I follow for any safe point to come in at.

Ihedinobi: Hi Ishi.

You still have your stuff, I see

Sorry I couldn't follow this story. Stories like this aren't very safe for me, you see. But I'm sure you haven't missed me at all. You seem to have all you need in fans and critics here.

I will be looking in posts made by people I follow for any safe point to come in at.

Ihedinobi baby!! Sup?

How do you mean by 'safe?'

naptu2:

Yep! Virgins have hormones too.

Which much accumulation can cause cancer.

ITbomb:
Which much accumulation can cause cancer.

Hahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahha!

ITbomb:
Which much accumulation can cause cancer.

You have got to be kidding me!!

Mucokey: On a note: what's the essence of FOLA being the NEMESIS of Chilo while in the storyline so far no 'real' hardcore act experienced

If you need hardcore experience, I'd suggest you buy an Bleep movie. Iyawo Nylon Bag is a unique brand of literature, and it has been sounded many times that this isn't a thread meant for the obscenely addicted, bro. The great Mazi is writing another hardcore masterpiece, you may jerk off there.

And to your question about Fola...well, all I can say is that you cannot fully judge a book just by reading it half-way, and I trust that Ishilove has more arrows in her quiver than meets the eye.

Ishilove:
You have got to be kidding me!!

I'm dead serious.
According to research from an American University, when a woman is aroused, hormones are release to all sexual organs preparing for the normal process of reproduction. Take note that the body does not differentiate whether it is for pleasure or for reproduction.
The body assumes that those hormones and fluid would be expelled from the body by the time the 'act of reproduction' is concluded and is not prepared to take back those fluid, however if the fluids and hormones are not expelled, it is congregated in any available place it was not designed to be,if it is assimilated by the body , good, but most times, they stay and coagulate leading to cancerous cancer.
.
Thank God for men like us, we are on a mission to suck out those cancer forming fluid out of your unmentionables, You should be thanking us and looking forward to our next visit/therapy

^^^^^

Jeez!!

Foxy_Ultimate:


Well Larry, I expected Ishilove to answer the question, not you.

Naptu and Larry have answered the question perfectly and I feel there is no need to add to it.

Larry-Sun:

If you need hardcore experience, I'd suggest you buy an X.X.X movie. Iyawo Nylon Bag is a unique brand of literature, and it has been sounded many times that this isn't a thread meant for the obscenely addicted, bro. The great Mazi is writing another hardcore masterpiece, you may jerk off there.

And to your question about Fola...well, all I can say is that you cannot fully judge a book just by reading it half-way, and I trust that Ishilove has more arrows in her quiver than meets the eye.

Well said

finally Chilo is going tru the 'Re-Defining stage' in her life

her naivety can be so infuriating

more of the story: It always starts with a phone call

So chilo is an in-born aristo? Is that the underlying message ishi has been trying to pass thru for ages now?

Now I gerrit.

Thank God she got rid of those losers! Now let the cherry plucking begin! I can't wait for the fvck for groceries part!

get a life, will you?