“It is not possible. You have to marry me.”

“That will not be possible.  This is a big taboo. Our kids can die suddenly. Try to understand “

“Please don’t give me that, I just can’t share you with another woman. You are the only man I have ever known. You are not just my brother, but also my love- the father of my kids”

What started as a gentle conversation was gradually heating up. Chinedu, lover and father of my two kids had woken up on a sunny Sunday morning, tapped me and explained that he wanted to get married to someone else. Chinedu was not just my lover, but also my brother. As a matter of fact, Chinedu was my twin brother. Yes! Born of the same father and mother. It is not funny but many things happened.

If the tragic incident of our father’s death two decades ago had battered us, the untimely death of our mother some two weeks after totally shattered us. Our dreams. Our hopes. Our aspirations. When Daddy died, we were both 21, battling the stressful admission process. Chinedu was getting ready to resume at a prestigious university in the east. Our parents’ death came like a whirlwind. It stopped Chinedu in his academic tracks.

With a sister to take care of and no one to lean on, Chinedu and I decided to leave the city. We moved into a village in the east and decided to take up farming. This was only an innocent attempt to salvage our lives and keep family bond together. Unknown to us, in a matter of months, we would be feeding fat on sacrilege.

Our farming itinerary had us on the farm at dawn, work, cook, and rest a little throughout the day before retiring to our home at night. Chinedu was a hard worker and a doting brother. He ensured I had the best of food; bought me new clothes and even saved on my behalf as he worked harder. This made me open up to him on every matter. Aside from being a good brother, he was a woman slasher. Ah!  Chi bobo loved women. Having gained admission into the university for a course as prestigious as English language, Chinedu was an unrepentant show boy. As he wooed young ladies in the village, he never ceased to show them his literate skills. He even brandished his admission letter to the very stubborn ones. Did it work? Many times, it did. Chinedu, with my consent, brought girls home and bleeped them mercilessly. I was used to hearing the grunts, the sighs, sibilations and eructation of sheer pleasure from the girls. I heard the spanks and the spats; the thrusts and the slaps over the wall.

My brother was a village p0rn star without the camera.

And that night came. It was not out of the blue. Chinedu and I had decided to stay back on a Sunday to have enough rest. Subsequent days were for harvests. We needed all the energy we could muster.

“Chi bobo, I have a question ooooo”

“Anything for you, Chinwe baby”

“Do you know I am still a v!rgin?”

“Ehn Ehn..Yes now. Is that not how it should be?

“Noo. But you have been sleeping with girls of my age ooo. I even want to see your p€nis. Show me”, I spoke out, surprised at my confidence

“Ah, you want to see your brother’s something”

I didn’t allow him land before I moved forward and unclasped his wrapper.

“This your p£nis is big oooo,”, I marveled out loud.

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I knew Ngozi through a friend. I happened to be viewing his Whatsapp status at an opportune time and I saw her picture posted with the short birthday wishes to his beautiful colleague. He had been gracious enough to link us up when I asked him for her number.

He had probably accepted that she was out of his league but considered my chances much more realistic because I was not only good looking, but also the only son of my oil tycoon father.

Our conversations had been amazing and I found her to be as intelligent as she was beautiful. She was so funny and I had never had a girl make me laugh so much. Ngozi was a breath of fresh air. She was a working class lady and although our tax brackets were far apart, she never requested anything from me so I was all the more happy to shower her with unsolicited gifts and money.

It was only natural that my heart grew so fond of her. I could even see myself committing to her eventually. But I had to first be rid of my cravings for other beautiful women. In the early talking stage, I came clean to her about my obsession with pretty women and my inability to commit to a serious relationship and she had been fine with having a casual fling with me.

But the more intrigued I became by her, the more my jealousy and possessiveness sent mixed signals about what I wanted. She too was smitten and even though I never officially asked her to be my girlfriend, there was an unspoken bond between us that told us we belonged to each other.

Her exploits in bed roped me even tighter into whatever our thing together was. Ngozi was a cex bomb. Six months after our situationship started, she found out that I was fvcking two gorgeous friends she had introduced me to so I could connect them with a popular media mogul pal of mine for modelling gigs.
She confronted me like a girlfriend would and when I reminded her that we were not really together and that I had already told her what to expect beforehand, she apologised in tears but said she couldn’t cope anymore.

We had amazing cex for what was supposed to be the last time then she suggested that we keep a healthy distance, a suggestion which I respected even though it felt terrible to see her heartbroken and even worse to not be so close to her anymore.