FROM THE BED’S POINT OF VIEW

FROM THE BED’S POINT OF VIEW

FOREWORD: After reading Alté Jay’s story about possibly finding love with his dark-skinned Grindr hookup, I thought about someone whose voice hadn’t been heard, whose side of the story hadn’t been listened to.

That someone is the BED! Alté Jay’s BED!

So, after reaching out to the BED for His own side of the story, the following is what He revealed to me.

Enjoy.

*

Gurrrrrrrrl, remember how I told you my owner has been walking around lately in one elevated state of horniness or another? Well, it finally happened!

It was the day after that heavy rain that fell last week and flooded the entire island. I was just in my corner thanking my stars that the water had not gotten into the house and soaked me through and through like it did the neighbour’s mattress, that poor thing. I was just telling myself that it will take at least five days of airing out in the sun for that poor dear to get back to shape, when the door was thrown open and my owner entered the room followed by a drop-dead-gorgeous stranger.

“Didn’t you just leave, like, ten minutes ago!” I screamed at him, flailing my arms at him. “Can’t I be free from you and your horniness for thirty minutes!”

But then the stranger collapsed on me and I immediately remembered I’m just a mattress and no one cares how I feel.

Drop-Dead-Gorgeous casually took off his shirt like it was nothing, and my jaw hit the ground. Gurrrrrrrrl, he is a god! My owner, the little thirsty show-off that he is, also took off his own shirt, and then his shorts.

I rolled my eyes. Ashawos will always shawo!

However, Drop-Dead-Gorgeous had a different reaction from me. He told my owner that he is hot.

“I know. But the hotter person here is you,” the corny bitch responded, and then joined him on top of me.

It was apparent they didn’t come to sign a treaty, because they were soon lip-locked. The way they were going at it, you’d think they were in a contest for who was going to swallow the other first.

It was hot.

They were naked enough, but more articles of clothing kept coming off their bodies and landing on the floor. Then someone was sucking someone’s nipples. And the other was moaning.

It was fire.

“Fuck me!” Drop-Dead-Gorgeous said all too suddenly.

And I kid you not; the clock had not counted up to sixty seconds before someone’s dick was pounding furiously into someone else’s ass.

It was shameful.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I like being fucked upon by people who know what they’re doing. Let me put it in a way that will resonate with you: “Whenever two or three men are gathered on top of me in coital fellowship, I am pleased.”

But this time, it was different.

I didn’t approve.

You see, like I’ve told you before, I have a crush on my owner – that little annoying fucktard. Every time he lies on me to sleep, I imagine I’m a man like him. He probably also imagines he’s a mattress like me, because he gets aroused a lot when he’s on me.

Did I tell you how he dry-humped me yesterday till he came? Yes. Right after he came, he whispered, “Oh, God, I really like you.”

Girl, I swear, that was the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me. Of course I told him I really like him too and that I’ll always be there for him. And then he lay on me and went to sleep, while I lay there, under a sex god, my sex god, basking in that moment we had just shared.

My soul mate had just found me.

Which is why I didn’t approve of what was going to happen between him and Drop-Dead-Gorgeous!

But then, I’m only a mattress and no one really cares how I feel.

“I want to look you in the eye as you fuck me,” Drop-Dead-Gorgeous said.

And they assumed a suitable position and went at it.

Even in my anger, I was kind of impressed at the way they were going at it.

Like men.

Like wild, wild men.

Surely, I thought to myself, this was the way the Good Lord meant for men to lay with men when He said in Leviticus that they shouldn’t lay with themselves as they lay with women.

“You’re sweet,” Drop-Dead-Gorgeous said to my owner when they paused for a break.

And for someone who was still panting, I thought the words came out clearly.

“You’re sweet,” my owner said it back to him.

“So now we’re repeating everything he says?!” I screamed at him.

“Do you vers?” Drop-Dead-Gorgeous asked.

My owner nodded.

I was so frustrated at this point. If I had hair on my head, I would have ripped them out. I mean, these were two people who were supposed to be resting. Like, the muthafuckers were still catching their breaths for fuckssakes!

And they still wanted to fuck some more?!!!

“Hold me like I am really the sexiest person you have ever met,” my owner said softly. “Touch me everywhere. I want to know where my body ends and where it begins.”

“Okay, Chimamanda Jnr., I see you,” I sneered, rolling my eyes.

They proceeded to fuck for two more rounds. Like wild, sex-starved horses. Encouraging each other with their moans. Screaming each other’s names and sweet nothings.

After the third round, they lay spent on me, cuddling. It was so sweet, it melted my heart. I forgot about my stake on my owner, and just stayed there aww-ing at them.

Until one of them said those three words.

“I love you.”

Wait a fucking second, bitch!

“I love you,” the other one responded.

I felt so faint. I felt so fucking faint.

They said this to each other over and over again. And the room kept spinning around me. Until I passed out, unable to contain my distress.

***

It is late in the evening. The wall clock tells me they said their goodbyes a long time ago. My owner left the house much later and is not yet back.

I write this letter to you with a broken heart. But I also have clarity of mind, and I’ve accepted that this man will never love me in the way I love him.

The clouds are forming outside.

The neighbour is taking his mattress inside.

I wish I could go back a week into time and trade places with that mattress.

I wish the rain had gotten into this room that day last week and soaked me through and through, instead of that neighbour’s mattress.

I would have been spared all this humiliation.

Who would have ever thought that I, an orthopedic mattress in a well furnished room with a functioning air conditioner and windows that actually close, will ever be jealous of something that probably came from Yaba Tech in the late 2000s?

Sigh.

As for my owner, I hope he gets into a bus that totally breaks down in the rain on Third Mainland Bridge.

Anyway, I hope you’re maintaining beauty, my dear gurl.

I look forward to hearing from you.

XOXO,

Me.

PS: Did you hear about that couch at Agbara whose owner bore a hole into and uses every night? It’s almost as if COVID is making these humans stupider and stupider every day.

Written by Kiwi

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  1. Zoar
    September 21, 10:22 Reply

    LOL 😂😆😂😆

    Didn’t comment on the original post but this funny part of it is crazy 😂🤣😂

    Playful writing.

    Love it.

  2. Mandy
    September 21, 10:48 Reply

    😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 Gosh! I laughed so hard at this. Whoever this writer is, you are deliciously crazy. My sympathies for the bed. To love somebody and have them fuck someone else in your very before has gotta hurt. Pele.

  3. Someone's Someone
    September 21, 14:11 Reply

    😂😂😂😂
    It’s the creativity for me. Nice writing and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
    I’m sure using this line someday: “ashawo must shawo” 🤣

  4. Yusuf
    September 21, 18:00 Reply

    Such a playful spin😂😂😂

  5. Delle
    September 22, 11:08 Reply

    I totally love and approve of this post. This is how to write comedy!

  6. Fred
    September 22, 14:35 Reply

    I saw what you did in that ‘P.S’ but I assure you it didn’t take my mind off of that pun you pulled about Leviticus

  7. Pie
    October 16, 14:09 Reply

    So Kiwi is the mattress?😁😁😁

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