Lost in Lust (Episode 1)

Lost in Lust

By Toyin Olorunsola


Cover picture: Clipart

The time must be about four a.m. I normally woke up about that time to ease myself in the toilet. This morning was no exception. I found my way out of the room I shared with Steve in the boys’ quarter. The toilet was adjoining the room, and it was just about five meters away.

I found my way to the place. I only wanted to urinate, but somehow, I felt some pressure from the bowel, so I sat on the toilet seat. I was on it for some minutes, but funny enough, no 'poo poo' came out. I was about to stand up and wear up my boxer when I felt I could hear a movement outside the toilet.

Then, there was a short knock. That must be Steve, I thought.

'Just a minute,' I said. I wore my boxer and flushed the toilet. I then opened the toilet door. The sight I saw shocked me.

Steve was not the one at the door. It was Joyce, a cousin to my uncle's wife. She had a room in the main building of the duplex house, so I wondered why she had come to the toilet in the bq.

But I didn't wonder for long. The way she looked said it all. Apart from the coqquettish smile on her face, the oversize t-shirt she was wearing clearly defined her voluptous boobs. She put her hand at akimbo and there was something daring about her look.

'What do you want here?' I asked in a voice scarcely above a whisper.

She put a finger on my lips to hush me and smiled. She then gently pushed me back inside the toilet and closed the door.

She locked the latch of the door and turned to face me, smiling.

'What do you think you're doing, Joyce?' I managed to ask.

She had never done anything close to this before. We were quite close, but everything had been platonic and within a boundary. I had helped her with some of the assignments given to her in her school. She was an HND student of Business Administration at Yaba College of Technology.

Many times, she had brought assignments on Business Mathematics home and I had helped her to solve them, having studied mechanical engineering myself. I had even pointed out that the calculations were not difficult and she should be able to solve them.

'I don't like calculations,' she had declared. I had had no choice than to oblige her.

In spite of the seeming coziness, my relationship with Joyce did not go beyond that level. That explained why I was surprised by this her daring action.  

She did not answer me.  Rather, she smiled and closed her eyes. What did that mean?

It was not as if I was naive. I had asked her that to be sure that she very much knew what she was doing. Now, her silent answer was enough for me to hear her loud and clear.

I nodded and smiled to myself. 'Okay, Joyce,' I said under my breath. 'You'll get what you want.'

With that, I fell for the lust of the flesh. Several minutes later, she wore her t-shirt and looked at me satisfactorily.

'Thank for coming, Joyce,' I said, not knowing what else to say.

She nodded and squeezed my hand. 'You're welcome.'

Carefully, as if somebody might be watching, she opened the door. She waited for some seconds before she furtively made her way back to her room in the main building.

I sighed and went back to my room.

Steve was still sleeping, probably dreaming. I picked up my phone to check the time. It was already quarter after five. I decided not to go back to bed again. I would soon have to start preparing for work and it was better I started now.

I put toothpaste on my brush and went to the bathroom. As I brushed my teeth, I thought over what I experienced in the last half hour. Joyce was indeed daring for doing what she had done, but was it right for me to fall for her antic hook, line and sinker?

It was true I had broken up with my girlfriend, Bisola. She had accused me of lack of commitment to the relationship and had given me the boot. I didn't really understand her. What lack of commitment was she talking about, when I had thought I was giving my best to the relationship?

That was about a month ago. All my entreaties to her to have a change of heart had fallen on deaf ears. I had decided to let the situation be, although I still believed that Bisola would change her mind and come back to me.

I took my bath and got dressed up. I was supposed to resume work at the bakery by eight a.m. I hated to get late to work, so I always set out on time.

Steve didn't need to wake up on time, and was still in dreamland when I left the room. He was just a boy who had recently written his WASSCE and would be writing UTME by next year.

 As I opened our gate, the security man, Audu, greeted me in happiness.

‘Ola, my man. Good morning.'

I reciprocated his greeting, waved at him and moved on.

 I worked in the bakery owned by my uncle as Assistant Production Supervisor. It was a big bakery with branches in Ikeja and Ota. The pay was modest but okay for me. Besides, we enjoyed some benefits like a free big loaf every day, weekend bonus and hazard allowance. Since I was still a bachelor and I was still staying with my uncle, I had all my earnings to myself. All the same, I was prudent and had been able to have some substantial savings.

 The place of work was at Agric, Ikorodu. I got there few minutes to eight. I went to change to my overall and started working. I actually enjoyed the work, although the heat from the industrial oven could be suffocating. I worked conscientiously, not minding the fact that my uncle owned the place.

We had many customers – whole sale distributors - who came from far and near places. We were always busy and hardly had time for frivolities. I must say that I always took my loaf home and would hand it to my uncle’s wife for the family. There was no way I would be eating bread every day! 

By six p.m, my duty was over. I went to the shower room to wash off the sweats and dirt my body had accumulated. I then changed back into my clothes. Those who would do the night shift had already come. I bade the workers goodnight and stepped out of the company premises. As I worked towards Agric bus stop, I noticed that a Lexus jeep was parked by the road. The door of the driver’s side was open and a petite but pretty woman was talking on the phone, sounding agitated.

I overheard her expressing apprehension that the mechanic she had called to come and fix the car had not come.

I paused briefly, and moved to her. She finished her conversation and looked on.

‘Excuse me, madam. Are you having problem with the car?’ I asked.

‘Yes. Do you know any mechanic around?’

I shook my head. ‘Perhaps, I can be of help. Perhaps, I should ask what exactly is the problem with the car?’

‘It stopped working and will not start,’ she said. To demonstrate this, she tried to start the car.

The engine whirled but failed to start.

‘Can you please open the bonnet?’ I said. ‘I work with engines.’

She became hopeful and smiled. The bonnet was unlocked. I opened it wide and checked the carburetors and the plugs. I unplugged the plugs, blew air to remove dusts or any particles and plugged them back. I then checked the battery wire connection and tapped on the heads.

‘Can you start the car again?’ I suggested.

She did and was pleasantly surprised that the engine roared into life. I was pleased with myself too.

‘Wow, that was good. You’re good at that.’

‘It’s okay,’ I replied modestly. ‘It’s only a minor problem.’

‘Oh, thanks so much,’ she replied. ‘You’ve saved me a lot of hassles.’

I closed the bonnet. ‘Alright, madam. Good night.’

‘Wait.’ She dipped her right hand into her hand bag and brought some folded currency notes. ‘Come and have this for your trouble.’

‘Oh, no, ma’am. Don’t worry.’

‘Oh, come on. It’s just a token.’

I shook my head. ‘No, ma’am. Thank you.’

She seemed a bit surprised. ‘Alright.’ She returned the money inside her purse and brought something else out. ‘Here, this is my complimentary card. Can you have this?’

I paused only briefly. ‘Okay, ma’am.’

‘Make sure you call me,’ she said and closed the door of her car.

I thanked her, put the card in my breast pocket and moved on. I crossed the main road to the side where I would take a bus going to Ikorodu. From there, I would take another bus to Ibeshe, where I lived.

As soon as I got to the house, I went to the kitchen so I could take a bottle of cold water from the fridge. There was a pot on the gas cooker. Cooking was already going on. I was about to pick a glass cup when Joyce entered.

‘Hello, there,’ she said.

‘Hello, Joyce.’

‘How was work?’

‘Fine. How was school?’

‘Not bad.’

I opened the bottle and poured some water inside the glass cup. She was staring at me.

‘What did you bring for me?’ she asked.

I pointed at the nylon bag I placed on the kitchen table. ‘A loaf of bread for the family.’

‘That one is for the family. I’m talking about what you brought for me.’ She had emphasized the word, ‘me.’

‘Oh, well…maybe some other time.’

‘Ola, you don’t think much about me,’ she pointed out.

The house maid entered the kitchen. That ended any further intimate conversation. I left the kitchen for my room. Later, the house maid brought my meal. I took it, decided to relax for a while and then took my laptop to the reading room. The room was next to my room and I usually went there to read and study. I was browsing the internet that evening when Joyce brought some books and came to join me.    

It was in that same room I had taught her in the past, so there was nothing unusual about her coming. She pulled a chair close to me and sat down.

‘How’re you?’ she asked.

I smiled briefly. ‘Fine.’

She moved closer to have a peep at the computer screen. I could smell her skin. ‘What’re you doing?’

‘Just browsing,’ I replied.

She placed her hands on my lap.

‘Joyce, I think we’ve made a terrible mistake.’

She frowned slightly. ‘What mistake?’

‘We shouldn’t have done what we did the other time.’

‘What did we do?’ She liked to be cheeky and she was at it again.

I chuckled. ‘That thing we did in the toilet.’

A teasing smile took over her face. ‘What did we do in the toilet?’

I shook my head but said nothing. She continued to stare at me.

‘Does that mean you don’t even like me?’ she asked.

‘It’s not like that,’ I quickly said. ’But, I feel it’s not right. We’re supposed to be related by marriage.’

She sighed. ‘That shouldn’t stop anything. It shouldn’t stop us from having feelings for each other.’

She rubbed her hands on my thigh.

‘And this place should be the last place for anyone to see us like this,’ I said.

‘No one will see us,’ she muttered.

I asked her a question nagging at my mind. ‘How did you know I was in the toilet?

She smiled and ran her hand on my face. ‘I had woken up about four o ‘clock. You came to my mind. I kept thinking about you. Then I heard the sound of a door opening from the bq. I peeped through the window and saw you made your way to the toilet. After some moments, I decided to come around.’

‘You’re a naughty girl,’ I said.

‘You’re a naughty boy too,’ she replied.

I nodded. She was right. If the two of could do what we did, then we were naughty. ‘But we have to stop it. Let’s take it that it was a mistake.’

She made a face but said nothing.

She soon opened one of the books she had brought. But it was obvious she was not there to read. Her toes moved over my legs in teasing way. I tried to be impassive. Despite all her distractions, I managed to maintain calmness.

Two days later, I was at work and it was break time. I sent Sarah, one of our health officers to buy fried rice and chicken for me. When I searched through my wallet to give Sarah money, I saw the complimentary card from the woman I had helped to start her car. I had kept it there that evening when I got home and promptly forgot about it.

I looked closely at the card. Her name read Naomi Dodo, and she worked in the corporate affairs division of national petroleum company. She must be making cool money there, I thought. I remembered her figure vividly: slim, light in complexion, average height, pretty and petite. That figure and her name certainly reminded me of Naomi Campbell, the ex-super model.

By my reckoning, Naomi Dodo couldn’t be less than thirty five and she was most likely married. Should I give her a call?

Well, there should be no harm in that, should there? After all, she asked me to give her a call and she willingly gave me her card. I brought out my phone and dialed her number. Her phone rang but no response. She was probably busy, I thought. I decided I would have to call again at another time and saved her number as Sister Naomi.

Sarah brought my food. ‘Thank you, Sarah,’ I told her.

She smiled and went away. The food was delicious. I always ate rice and chicken with relish. I was midway in my eating when my phone rang. It was ‘Sister Naomi’ calling back.

‘Hello, madam. Good afternoon.’

‘Good afternoon. I saw your missed call. Please, who is this?’

‘I’m Ola,’ I replied. ‘The guy who assisted in getting your car started a couple of days ago.’

‘O-Okay. How’re you?’

‘I’m fine, ma’am.’

‘Thank you for that day. Is this your number?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m kind of busy now. I’ll still call you, Ola.’

‘Alright, ma’am.’

The line was disconnected. I continued with my food. About twenty minutes later, a text message came to my phone. Somebody had transferred two thousand naira worth of airtime to my number. It was from Naomi. That meant it was 2K she wanted to give me that day. Why did she do this when I had told her not to bother? I shrugged. The airtime would be useful. I decided to send a text message to her to thank her for the gesture. Few minutes later, she replied the text with the simple message: You deserved it.

I continued to do my work conscientiously. Later in the evening, I was in the study room surfing the internet. Joyce had temporarily moved to the campus as they would soon be writing the semester examination. I received a WhatsApp message from Sister Naomi. ‘Good evening, how was your day?’ she asked.

‘Fine. What about yours?’ I promptly replied.

 ‘Great. Where d’you work, and as what?’

I smiled to myself. ‘I work at Glorious bakery as assistant supervisor.’

‘What did you study?’

‘Mechanical Engineering. B.Sc.’

‘Interesting.’

‘Thank you.’

There was no reply from her after this. The phone rang. She was the one on the line.

‘Hello, Ola.’

‘Good evening madam.’

‘Perhaps, you can bring your c.v and other photocopies of your credentials. Perhaps, something can come up from where I work.’

I smiled. ‘I will be grateful, madam.’

‘Find time to bring it to the office at Kofo Abayomi, Victoria Island.’

‘I’ll do that, ma’am.’

‘My office is on the fifth floor. Just tell them you want to see Naomi.’

I smiled again. ‘Thank you very much, madam.’

‘Good night’

‘Good night, ma’am.’

She had cut off the line. Phew, what a call! I hoped the offer at the national oil company would jell through. It was a place many Nigerians desired to work, including myself. I definitely had to find time to take my credentials there. Fortunately, I was on night shift the following day. I would have to visit that office the following morning.

I was at the reception of the National oil company by ten thirty in the morning. I had filled the visitor’s book and was told to wait a while. The receptionist called Naomi to inform her that a guy called Ola was around to see her. The lady listened briefly and turned to me.

‘Come and wear the visitor’s tag. Go to floor five, room 007.’

I attached the tag to my well-ironed and smart looking shirt and joined the short queue waiting for the elevator. When I got to the floor, the first thing I noticed was the very cool atmosphere of the place. It was in contrast with the bakery, which was always very warm.

I knocked on the door of room 007, opened the door and stepped in. A secretary asked me to sit down. Few minutes later, sister Naomi came out with another lady.

‘Good morning, madam,’ I greeted zealously.

‘Good morning, Ola. Just a minute.’

She and the woman left the office. About five minutes later, she was back.

‘O ya, Ola, come,’ she said as she led me to her office. ‘I hope you’re not angry that you were kept waiting.’

‘Oh no, ma’am. I can understand.’

She sat on her seat and motioned me to chair.

She stretched her hands out. ‘Can I have the credentials?’

I had carefully stapled them and put them in an envelope inside my black folder. I handed them to her.

STORY CAN BE DOWNLOADED FROM:  https://publish.okadabooks.com/book/about/lost_in_lust/24333