He woke in the darkness, dick still stiff; the buzz of his phone stirred him from sleep – the kind of slumber you encounter after marathon romping. His mouth was sour, and his head felt heavy. He rose, slow, and staggered to the window instead of the armchair. The spot they tossed their clothes in a hurry before passion got consummated – the source of the humming sound.
What jarred his slumber? He speculated for a minute only for the phone to ring again for the fifth time before he fully realized his bearing and consciousness. Is this the middle of the night? No. Not even morning – it was past two 2 p.m. – as he stood dumb by the window, slightly opening it to let fresh air mingle with the staleness of the hotel room. The blinds and the window ledge saved him from an accusation of exhibitionism. The lady on the iron-wrought bed wore nothing too. Her braid long and in disarray, her neck slender, and the gold-coated chains she wore looked too heavy for it, but her thighs were thick and all ripe roundness. He dug through his chinos trousers from the heap to answer the buzzing phone.
“Good afternoon Sir, Sir…Sir,” the voice at the other end rattled incoherently.
“Are you the dog banging her silly? Are you the dude now ravaging his wife?”
Asika asked before glancing at the phone screen to know who the heck was calling him at this unholy hour. An unholy hour it was – he’s having an illicit affair with a junior employee, promising to promote her to the post of Accounts Manager if she did his bidding. Who cares? His erection would swallow any moral bug to get satisfied. Who cares? Was she coerced? She knows there is a price tag to every investment.
“Will you tell her?” The caller sensed panic and anger in his voice, “Who the hell is this? Answer me, will you?!”
“Will you tell your wife she was fun? Will you tell her your lover has a more ample caliber on her chest and skills that are lethal and naughty?
The voice at the other end spoke once more, more disjointedly, “Sir, you did him wrong. The gentleman she vowed to till death do them part,” the voice grinned, “Too bad a thing… Remember Matthew 7:12 – Everything, therefore, be it whatever thing, that you would have men do to you, at least do you also same to them….”
Silence. There was only the faint tick of the wall clock and the hiss of the wind, and the phone died.
“I don’t get it. I do not understand.”
Deep down, Asika got the crux of his illogical rants but hoped and prayed it is an April fool’s stunt.
© Ugo Nkwoala | Spilledwords.org | 2021