Body & Soul

Go suck a lemon



ebola could not believe her ears.



Aunty prophetess was pregnant! So, she was hunting for a man too?



“You’ve been praying for me for over five years and nothing happened despite my despiration,” Debola said.



“That is the problem. That desperation has cost you a lot. Let me tell you, everything we achieved in the past five years has been wiped away by your desperation. Do you know for how long I prayed and waited before I got this man? Do you know the number of trips I made to the wise ones? Do you know how much I spent?” She asked a dumbfounded Debola.


“Wise ones? You consult the wise ones while I consult you?” She asked her.



“Have you not seen a doctor being treated by other doctors?” Prophetess asked.

Debola sighed audibly and suddenly, her face lit up.



“Can you take me to the wise ones?” She asked.



Aunty prophetess observed her for a while and said slowly, “If you are ready, I’ll take you. But, have it at the back of your mind that you’ll spend a lot of money.”



“I’m ready. I’m ready to do anything. I can’t allow Jay to slip out of my life. I can’t start looking for a man all over again. Moreover, I’m pregnant for him. He’s wealthy. He’ll give me the kind of life I’ve always desired,” Debola said.



They had discussed some more and agreed on a date. The wise ones lived in a village in a neighbouring state. Prophetess promised to get Debola an appointment with the wise ones. After four days, she called Debola and told her what it would cost her to see them. She was more than ready.



On the set date, they set out very early in the morning. They were in the bus park before 5am. After more than two hours of steady bus ride, they alighted at a motor park in a sleepy village. They boarded two bikes which took them through footpaths to a compound set well back in what appeared like a bush. An old bungalow stood in the middle of the large compound. Debola was scared but prophetess assured her that no harm would come to her.



The wise ones were five old men who looked Debola up and down, as if sizing her up. They were seated on stools under a leafy tree few metres away from the gate. There were two empty benches facing them. The visitors knelt down in greeting. One of them, he appeared the oldest, asked them to sit down on a bench. Debola made to sit but the prophetess drew her back to her knees. She then thanked the wise ones and tabled Debola’s case before them, her face cast down.



The oldest of them, with rheumy eyes, cleared his throat and spat on the sandy ground, between his legs. With his left shrivelled foot, he mixed the phlegm with the red sand.



“See men all around you. A crowd of men are all over you. You wonder why none has married you? You have a spirit husband that is chasing them away. Unless you settle your spirit husband, no man will dare marry you,” he said in a somewhat calm, tiny tone.



Debola stared at the prophetess. She dared not look at the pairs of ancient eyes which she was sure were boring into her.



“Baba, she came prepared sir,” prophetess said in a low tone.



“Your prayers are answered,” the baba said.



“Amen,” Debola and the prophetess chorused.



“Sit down,” the old man said.



Only then did the prophetess draw Debola up. They sat on the stool.




“You need a goat, a live goat, which you will kill and use the meat to prepare vegetable soup and pounded yam for the gods,” the baba said.


Debola was confused. Kill a goat? Where would she get that one?



“Thank you baba. She’s ready to do it,” the prophetess said.



“Remember, she must not wipe off sweat from her face while she pounds the yam and her sweat must not drop into the mortar,” the old man said.



Debola was almost not breathing again. She didn’t know if she was scared of the chore before her or in awe of the old men. She stared at the ground. Even when she felt that the old men were leaving, she didn’t look up.



When the prophetess drew her up later, both the old men and their stools were not in sight.



“Where do I get a goat? Where do I get the foodstuff to prepare the food? Who will kill the goat?” The questions tumbled out of her mouth.



“Relax, you’ll get everything in this compound,” prophetess said, leading her to the back of the building.



Debola stared in amazement as they turned the corner and then, fear gripped her…






Jay didn’t know whether to dance or cry. The business deal he pitched for about eight months ago had finally scaled through. That was the new lease of life he needed. Once he was able to complete it, he would swim in dizzying wealth which would run into multiples of millions of naira. That was the biggest deal he had ever dreamt of. He scattered the documents on his bed and danced round them. All the documents were intact. Once this money got into his bank account, he could to go on vacation for many years. Once again, he went through the details again, this time, meticulously. Everything was perfect. It called for celebration. He pulled out a bottle of fizz and popped it. The Brut tasted so sweet in his mouth! Of course, he knew it was the sweet taste of success. He was halfway through the bottle when the thought hit him: it was Adele’s bank details they’d used to pitch for the job! He felt the sour taste of the Brut immediately. Payments for the deal would be made into her bank account, not his. He sat down, thud! Adele had him where it would hurt most. He would have to go crawling to her or he’d be doomed forever! After what he did to her? Could he be under a curse? Why would sadness dog his every joy? Then it hit him! One night many, many years ago, he was still living in the village with his paternal grandparents, that night…



He shivered and broke out it cold sweat. His palms became clammy…






Adele was on the phone with her children. It was a conference call. They were talking politics.



Adele listened to them but her mind was mulling another issue. A large amount had been paid into her account. It was payment for a contract she helped Jay to secure. Without her efforts, he wouldn’t have gotten that job and she funded more than eighty per cent of it. As much as she knew that Jay didn’t deserve her mercy, going by all the pain he had inflicted on her physically, emotionally and psychologically, he needed that money to survive. How would she sleep peacefully, knowing she was holding on to another man’s joy? She dared not tell her children about it. Going by the way they were feeling right now, they would not support her extending any help to their father.



After the convo with her children, she hopped to the private dining room to join Bolan at breakfast. There were two entrances to that dining room -from the corridor and from Bolan’s room.



“Oh no! I told you to call me so I could come and carry you here, my woman,” Bolan said as he sighted her.



He was up and beside her immediately. He made her comfortable on the chair and kissed her deeply.



“I’m becoming a big liability to you and I don’t like it,” She said, kissing him back.



“Hey love, my desire is to turn you into my master and I’ll be your slave for the rest of our lives. I love you with everything in me that can love a woman. Believe me, you don’t have to work for the rest of your life. I’ll take care of your needs, including those of your children, if you’d allow me,” Bolan whispered into her ears.



Adele closed her eyes as joy washed over her. Gawd, she loved this man.


Everything about him spelt joy to her. They could talk for hours and laugh; they could be in each other’s arms without saying a word for hours and be so happy. They could communicate with their eyes. She felt wetness in her cave of wonder and smiled. It’s either she ate her breakfast right now or it would turn cold while she was being eaten.


Suddenly, she had an urge to live her secret desire. With Bolan, she could let go and be the seductress that she secretly wanted to be behind closed door.



“Lock the door, my Prince,” she told him.



She could not recognise her voice; it was low and sultry. Bolan stared at her a moment and went to do as she wished. She slipped out of her one-piece dressing gown. She had nothing under it. Bolan’s eyes were like an owls. This was a new Adele he was seeing. She indicated he did same. He did in seconds. His man was already turgid.



“We’re going to have breakfast in our birthday suit and you’re gonna feed me,” she said with a smile.



“Yes ma’am,” he responded and drew two dining chairs a little away from the table.



They sat, facing each other, their knees touching. With shaky hands, he fed her until she was good. Then she told him she was going to feed him. He smiled and waited, but she had other ideas.


“Mom wants to nurse her baby,” she told him.



Wide-eyed, Bolan smiled. He was happy. He felt that somehow, he had scaled whatever hurdle and destroyed whatever wall that stood between them.



“Close your eyes,” she instructed.


He did. Almost immediately, he felt her hands on him and felt her heave herself on him. He relaxed.



Adele smiled. She was juicing so much and could feel her wetness oozing out. She felt him shudder as she lay her hand on his very turgid man. He sat up. She played with it a bit, teasing the excitement spot just under the inner cap and felt him gasp. She teased him a little more and raised herself a bit and guided him into her slippery wet receptacle. Bolan moaned loudly and his body began to tingle. This was the first time he went into her unsheathed. The feeling was indescribably different. He felt like he was encased in a slippery wet velvety cocoon. He felt something on his lips and opened his mouth to take it in. He sucked without being told to. He needed not be told.



“Suck it. Hmmmmmmm suuuuckkkkkkhmmmmmm,” she moaned.



She was riding him as one possessed, murmuring and shouting almost at the same time. He grabbed one bobbing mountain while he sucked the other one. She held his neck as she grinded and pounded at intervals. Bolan was surprised. He openen his eyes and stole a glance at her. She was shouting with her eyes closed. She looked like one demented. He understood, she was gripped in the throes of passion. He was at the brink too because he had never felt this way before. She was driving him mad. He grabbed her waist with his two hands and raised her up a bit. Then he brought her down gently on him. He repeated that a number of times.



“Don’t stop…Don’t stop…dooooooon’t….,” she screeched.



Bolan felt like he would erupt in volcanic lava. He felt it rising to the tip. He tried to keep it in check but couldn’t. It would overrun him and drown them.



“My woman…my baby…baaaaby….” He screamed.



“My priiiiiiiiiiiiiiinceeeeee,” she screamed, adding, “Bring it oooooooon….lemme feeeeeeel you….”



Then, they quaked as waves and waves of passion washed over them. They felt the chair bouncing and held on to each other, afraid that the flood of passion would sweep them away…






Let’s continue this journey on Sunday!



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