The queue at the Fidelity Bank ATM booth that day looked like it could compare to the line that’d wait to enter heaven on the Judgment Day. It was as though the whole Nigeria came to a consensus that they would be using the teller machine that very day and at the same time. The sun wasn't helping matters, beating down as it was on our heads and heating up an atmosphere that was already tight with the fraying tempers of the people in the queue. People kept grumbling as the line shuffled gradually forward at a pace the snail would laugh at.
From where I was standing in the queue, I’d long since come to the heart-sinking realization that I wouldn’t be using the machine any time soon. Seeking to be distracted from the misery of my situation, I perceived the scent of a familiar, sweet fragrance coming from behind me. It was a very male cologne, one I’d only ever perceived before on my father. Antonio Banderas was the owner of perfume, I knew it that well. And because I had to know who was wearing it, I turned and squinted up at the man behind me.
He had an intoxicating presence, looked like a model who’d just stepped out of a Vanity Fair magazine. For such close quarters, I was able to make a quick assessment of the man. He wore a sky-blue, long-sleeved shirt tucked into well-tailored gray slacks. The fly of his trousers looked like he was packing some generous amount of meat, and by God, that was something I was suddenly interested in. I tried to get a good look at his face, but the sunlight was in my eyes, and so I couldn’t make out very much.
After what was all of a microsecond observation, I turned back to face my front.
An idle mind, they say, is the working place of evil. What could be idler than waiting on a queue with no fewer than fifty persons before you? The line behind me had already started elongating, inadvertently causing rowdiness and unnecessary clogging. People were being meshed together due to the rising disorganization and the ever increasing crowd. And this brought about my first close contact with the man behind me. His Royal Gorgeousness bumped into me; actually, his crotch bumped into my derriere. And I felt a tingling sensation rise up my spine. There was an immediate recoil on his part, as though he’d been jolted by naked current at the contact. And then he muttered to me, "I'm sorry about that."
I turned to look at him and gave him a light smile, trying to convey to him that it was a gratifying contact for me and as such, I didn't need any apology whatsoever from him. As if to convince him of how I appreciated the crotch-on-ass contact, I feigned being pushed by someone in front of me and bumped into his crotch region one more time, making sure to let my ass linger for more time than necessary.
This time, he didn’t recoil. In fact, he pressed himself against my behind, intensifying the connection we were both having, much to the obliviousness of the other individuals waiting in the queue. As the heat of him coiled up inside me, I found myself suppressing a moan that threatened to escape my mouth. At this point, I knew we both spoke the same language. I suddenly didn't care about the queue moving oh-so-slowly. I didn't care about making any transactions at the ATM. All I wanted was some alone time with this man behind me, who seemed like he wanted the same thing.
The line inched forward and our bodies drifted apart from each other. I began to feel itchy, like something had been displaced from my back. I was suddenly horny, and if the electricity of our contact a few moments ago was any indication, he was horny too.
Acting on that primordial instinct now, I let the bunch of keys I’d been twirling around my left index finger fall to the ground. In an attempt to pick it up, I arched my back in order to accentuate the protrusion of my ass, getting up ever so slowly whilst making sure to caress the growing mound in his fly with my derriere. I heard him suck in his breath as I made my way up. I permitted myself a very satisfied smile when I heard that.
Then I straightened up and was startled when he held me close to him by wrapping an arm around my waist, while I ground into him for the briefest moment. He thrust very subtly forward, meeting my backward motion with his groin. This delicious moment lasted a few breathless seconds, before the line moved forward again and he let go of me.
I moved forward. He moved too. But I didn’t try any more stunts. We were in broad daylight and I couldn’t know if there was anybody observing our shenanigans. Kito is real biko!
We didn’t get up to any mischief anymore until it was my turn at the ATM. As fate would have it, we both finished at the same time and hence, left our respective booths together.
I had decided that I wasn't going to act like something had transpired between us. For heavenssakes, he was just some hot guy I barely knew. This was random lust, brought on by a touch of the sun in the head, nothing else. I had just started climbing down the stairs of the bank when I felt someone pull slightly at my arm. I whirled around to meet the brownest eyes I'd ever seen. I was suddenly hit by the full brunt of the attractiveness I hadn’t been able to see under the blazing sun. His brows were full and his lashes could make any girl with an eye for the artifice jealous. And his cheekbones were so highly arched, they gave him an exotic look. This man couldn't have been more than thirty. I was floored by his sheer male beauty.
I also noticed that his expression was unreadable, and I raised my chin, bracing myself for a confrontation, in case he was about to make an issue out of what had happened in the queue.
But then, he smiled and stretched out a hand, anticipating a handshake from me. I took it, smiled and we exchanged knowing looks.
"I'm Pete," he said in a voice that was richly baritone.
Whatever was left of my insides liquefied at the sound of that voice.
"I'm Delle," I cooed, inwardly striving to gather my wits about me. The last thing I wanted was to make a mess of my already smitten self.
"I love your confidence, Delle. You had me there. I'm sure you noticed." He was still smiling.
My eyes involuntarily went to his fly as he spoke. There was something about this man, Pete – something so innate about him that seemed to bring out the primal part of me to the surface. A quick mental image of me astride him, his schlong buried deep inside my hole crossed my mind. I reflexively bit my lip and looked away from him, not wanting him to notice the flush on my cheeks.
"You are an amazing guy, Delle," he breathed out.
Music to my ears! I thought with a rush of pleasure.
"Those seductive moves you pulled off then can make a guy do things he’d never think possible," Pete was still talking.
I don't know what it was, but I couldn't talk. I just kept on smiling with my eyes averted from his face.
"I live not so far from here. If you could permit me some of your time, I could show you things...”
His words trailed off. His voice lingered. And my heart began a rapid beat.
"Oh yea! Fuck me, Pete! Fuck me harder! Oh YES!”
In what could only be a blink of an eye, I was panting those words as I bounced to and fro on a mattress in tandem with Pete’s fierce thrusts.
“Oh fuck yes! Fuck me harder! Oh yes!”
“You like me fucking you, yea? You like my dick?” He wanted to know.
“Yes, oh yes!” I validated in a scream. “Fuck me!”
He stopped then and pulled out of me abruptly. I'd never felt as empty as I did then. My anal muscles clenched reflexively, wanting the intruder back where it had just come out from. A second later, Pete was flipping me around to my side, raising one of my legs with his hand as he supported himself with the other hand. The Lazy Dog Style. Hmm. He thrust deep inside of me in a manner that testified to his haste to get back to business. It felt so good to be filled up again. Slow, long thrusts accompanied by fast, shallow thrusts. I was being fucked out of my mind.
Oh yes! Oh fuck yes!
Yes, baby! Fuck me!
Pete flipped me around to my back and my legs were shot up in the missionary position. His dick was now digging into places inside me that I never knew existed. He slapped at my rump.
Oh Pete – yes! Smack that fat ass. Smack me!
I was moaning into the sheets. I was at the brink of mind-blowing ecstasy. He slapped my ass again.
Oh yes! Smack that ass!
I felt like a porn star. Armond Rizzo had nothing on this Nigerian ass. But Pete's smacking had become a little more persistent. And why was he calling my name as he smacked me?
The unmistakable high-pitch of my mother's exasperated voice speared through my subconscious, jarring me out of the world I’d been in, out of Pete’s bed, out of his arms. I bolted up.
Oh my God! I thought, aghast, as I blinked myself back to reality. I couldn't believe all that had been a dream. I couldn't believe Pete, my gorgeous Pete, was just my mind playing out its greatest fantasies in my subconscious. My head was throbbing and my eyes felt very heavy. I winced from the pain in my head and tried to focus on the woman in front of me.
Wearing a black nightgown, with her hair haphazardly tucked inside a black hairnet and a chewing stick sticking out the side of her mouth, my mother looked every bit like the villain who’d been sent to snatch my happy moments from me.
"Do you know how long I've been trying to wake you up, young man?" she railed. “Have you forgotten that you have an interview by nine o’clock today? And it is already past eight! Come on, get out of that bed and start getting ready, my friend!”
I groaned and started getting out of bed as she moved to the door. And then she stopped at the door and turned, suddenly asked, "Who is Pete?"
Fucking Christ! Had I said everything I’d been screaming in my dream out loud? The banging in my head tripled instantly and my vision became blurred. I began mentally scrabbling for something suitable to say.
But she didn’t wait for my answer. She said, “Whoever Pete is, he had better stay inside your dream, because that is the only place he is welcome, am I clear?” She gave me a pointed glare before turning and walking out of my room.
With my heart pounding and my head racing to sort through the mess that was my thoughts, I got up from the bed and headed towards the bathroom. A slow smile stretched my lips when I remembered I was going to withdraw some money from the bank later in the day.
Written by Delle