DOWN LOW (EPISODE 17)

There was a tightness in Ekene’s chest and he didn’t like it. It was some kind of physical manifestation of a kind of handicapped rage mixed with unreasonable sadness that he didn’t know why he felt but at the same time knew why he felt it. In short, Ekene was upset but was not ready to unpack his emotions, or was unable to.

He stood up from his office desk, sat back down abruptly and suddenly pushed a stack of files off his desk. The chaotic sound of fluttering papers made him feel slightly better, but it wasn’t enough. He picked up the glass paperweight on his desk and tossed it across the room. It shattered on impact with a satisfying crash which improved his mood a bit more, but didn’t bring him out of his funk.

I need dick, he thought. But it’s HIS dick I need!

Ekene groaned into his palms and buried his face in the desk. How exactly had his feelings for Gozie “Guzman” Echebe gotten this strong? Sure he had felt the initial rush of lust when they met during the meeting where Gozie was signed on to the record label where Ekene worked in finance. He’d seen the hot new artiste and felt an instant fire begin to consume his insides. And why not? Gozie was a fine specimen of a man. Ekene’s mind’s eye pictured Gozie’s face with his chiseled cheekbones and jaw line, and he imagined caressing them. He slowly felt himself harden and he groaned again.

If it was just physical attraction he felt for Gozie, it would have been better. Physical attraction can be ignored. But no; he actually liked Gozie. Gozie was a sweetheart in the truest sense of the word; thoughtful of others, kind, helpful, likeable as hell, and so freaking pure. He was the only artiste who bothered to get to know other people in Excelsior Records other than the producers and top execs. He cared about the little people: admin, finance, logistics, security, and even the cleaners. There was one cleaner who he was currently assisting with his university entrance exam fees.

Ekene sighed. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone out on all those lunch dates with him or chilled out in the recording studio watching him work. That must be why he was catching all these silly feelings.

He picked up his phone and unlocked it. Maybe Instagram would calm his nerves. He scrolled through his timeline, liking a few pictures here and there, then proceeded to the explore page.

Big mistake!

The first video he saw was the same video that had been haunting him all day; the video of Gozie declaring his love for the fat bitch @DrRonnyQ_. Instead of scrolling past, like a sensible self-respecting person would, Ekene the masochist opened the video and watched it for the hundredth time.

Bitterness engulfed him as the video played on, ending in a passionate kiss between Ronke and Gozie.

I hate this bitch! he screamed to himself as he skimmed through the comments.

“Aww my crush is off the market! I’m happy for them sha. Wishing them all the best!”

Who is this fool?

“Chai. Love sweet o. And this Guzman get eye! See as the girl fine!”

God will punish you!

“You can see that he’s in a relationship with an accomplished woman and not a Slay Queen. Ladies, take note!!!”

This one will burn in hell. Bastard!

Ekene set down his phone and inhaled deeply. This anger was not helping anyone, especially not him. He needed to calm down and sort out his emotions.

OK, he was upset. Why? He was upset because Gozie’s relationship with that bitch Ronke was official and officially public. Why did he care so much though? He cared because he had strong feelings for Gozie. So what was he going to do about it?

Ekene’s mind began to spin, and before long an idea clicked into place in his mind like the tumblers on a lock. He ruminated over the idea for a bit and a bad taste seeped into his mouth.

“No, I can’t possibly do that…” he muttered to himself.

He picked up his phone and unlocked it. The video of Gozie and Ronke lit up his screen once more. The rage returned as well as the same idea that had left his mouth bitter. This time around, it did not taste so bad. It was settled then. That was the only way he could fight for his man.

He dialed Gozie’s number. It rang.

“Nawa for you o,” he said when Gozie picked.

The other man’s rich laughter floated across the phone line and into Ekene’s ears, making his chest feel warm.

“Wetin I do na?” Gozie responded, mirth still evident in his voice.

“I thought I was your guy. Why I go dey find out say you get babe via Instagram trending video? This is not OK ooo.”

“Ah no vex, my guy. I really didn’t plan it like that. Abeg no vex.”

“I have vexed abeg. It’s too late,” Ekene injected as much false outrage into his voice as he could, but Gozie laughed in response.

“OK, OK, I’m sorry na. What can I do to reduce this vexation?” Gozie asked, his voice like silk.

Kiss me, hold me. Just let me run my hands over your body, just once.

Ekene shook his head vigorously, banishing the intruding thoughts.

“Come and take me out for drinks. We could celebrate while you gist me about this babe.”

“Ah? No wahala now. When?”

“Friday. After I clock off. Hope your schedule is free?”

“It should be. Alright now, no wahala. Friday, I’ll take you out and right my wrong,” Gozie said.

“Better for you. Ngwa bye-bye o,” Ekene said.

Gozie chuckled. “Bye, later.”

Ekene disconnected the call, Gozie’s laughter still echoing in his ears. This was it. The die had been cast. Gozie was going to be his by hook or by crook.

***

Martin gasped as his body exploded in a violent orgasm. Semen shot out from his swollen member in an arc, staining his bed sheet. Behind and inside him, Rotimi, triggered by his release, thrust hard into him and gave into his own orgasm with a loud moan. He exhaled, long and hard and collapsed unto Martin’s back, pushing him from his knees and forcing him to lie on his stomach on the tangled damp sheets.

“Oh God, Martin…” Rotimi whispered feverishly. “It’s always been you, no one else. No one has ever made me feel like this. It’s always been you.” He kissed the back of Martin’s neck softly.

Martin cringed inwardly, but caressed Rotimi’s arm instead.

“I’ve missed you too, Timi,” he murmured, and Rotimi squeezed him in a hug.

OK, what now? he thought. He hadn’t really thought this through. Well done libido, 1 – 0.

This had really been a bad idea. Everything concerning Rotimi really was a bad idea. Granted, he couldn’t have stopped himself from falling in love with him all those years ago, but letting him back in his life was not very wise. Yes, this sex session was so amazing, even more amazing than he remembered, but now a whole can of worms had been opened up.

You should have thought about that before squeezing dick inside cinema. Whore.

“I’m so glad that we’re back together, baby,” Rotimi murmured.

Martin couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled out from under Rotimi and hopped off the bed.

“I need to use the bathroom,” he said, hurrying out of the room and into the bathroom. Once there, he shut the door and collapsed on the toilet seat, burying his face in his hands.

“Why the fuck do I keep doing these things to myself? Why Lord?” he whispered.

Because you are a horny harlot with absolutely no self control, the voice in his head chastised, sounding quite pissed. The other voices clamoured their agreement, and Martin groaned into his palm, hating himself.

Written by Santa Diaba