« | »

Re[story] Misplaced trust (true life story) episode 3

Misplaced trust (true life story) episode 3 Read below~

By the time the day’s work was over, my fancy

for Dayo had waned a bit; I was already

fantasizing about Samson.

I remember driving home from work and praying

for him to call again with the same request.

When I got home I got myself ready and waited

for his call. It didn’t come.

However another call came. Dayo was in my

neighbourhood and had called to check on me.

His call wasn’t the one I was expecting, so I

brushed him off. But on a second thought I called

him back and asked if he was leaving my

neighbourhood immediately and he said no.

He was actually waiting for his friend who was

not at home. So I told him that I was coming out

to bask in the evening breeze with him while he

waited for his friend.

He told me where he was and in a few minutes I

arrived there in a taxi. I was spotting an adidas

T-shirt and a pair of Loro Piana black trouser. I

like flat slip-on footwears, so I wore one and had

my handheld devices in a purse which I clutched

unto.

I spent about two hours with him that evening

before his friend called to inform him that he was

home.

Those two hours were amazing for me. Dayo had

knowledge about everything, and I happened to

have a bent for intelligent guys.

I almost asked him to take me home. Knowledge

flowed from his mouth like water from a

fountain. The sound of his voice was polished; it

was like the sound of music. He clearly worked

out a lot. As he spoke, his chest would pulsate

and his biceps would firm up. I almost touched

them.

When I got home I could not resist calling him to

say I was home. You should have heard me, I

sounded like I was already his girlfriend.

At work the next day I had him pinned in my

office really doing nothing. I wanted to know if

he could not get it that I was offering myself to

him.

Sammy (Samson) came into my office severally

and saw us. He probably wondered what Dayo

was doing in my office that long. I did not care.

Thank God I had not fallen for Samson; Dayo was

my man and I was going to get him.

As if he understood the reason I had him

detained in my office all day, that evening he

called to ask if I cared for a round of stimulating

chat over a few bottles of drink at the bar of my

choice. “Of course!” was my answer.

Then I asked him to come pick me up at home. I

liked to be spoilt with tender loving care. That

was how all the men I dated in my dream treated

me.

When he came, I silently prayed for him to open

his car door and hold it for me to go in.

He did exactly that. ‘Oh God! I am already living

my dreams,’ I thought.

To cut the long story short, from the events of

that night, a relationship with Dayo blossomed.

Two months later we were living partly in his

apartment and mine. I washed his boxer shorts,

cooked for him, we visited his parents together,

his sisters often spent time in my house, and I

would often ask him to bathe me during most

nights he spent with me.

I loved to be bathed by the man I love. If you

asked the men I dated in my dreams, they would

have told you it made me tick.

At some point I boasted to myself that my

relationship with Dayo was better than the ones I

had with those imaginary perfect men in my

dreams.

By the time our relationship was eight months

old, it had already hit overdrive. I could not

figure out what in the world we were waiting to

get married.

So one evening, while he was bathing me, I

asked him what he was waiting to propose to

me.

In a very romantic way, he put his index finger

on my lips, signaling I should shut up, stood up

and left the bathroom.

I had no clue what he was up to; I just sat in the

bathtub and waited for him to return……..

To be continue

Posted by on January 19, 2019.

Tags:

Categories: /Literature/Stories

There is love in sharing

0 Responses

Leave a Reply

« | »