I don’t do Aristo!” - Singer Eva Alardiah says

 

This is a very interesting piece by singer Eva Alordiah. Enjoy…  

I sat down in the only chair in the office and waited. The clock on the table told me the time was 2:35pm and I thanked it in my mind for the info. Thankful not because I was glad to know the time, but because it meant I was at least half an hour early for this meeting.
Now if only he would come in, make the exchange of pleasantries as short as possible and tell me I was going to get the money I had come for without wasting my time.
But I knew it wasn't going to be that easy. At least not after his last message to me included a quick referral to my 'voluptuous bouncy breasts' as he had described them.
I bowed my head to stare at the bulge of my breasts through my white silk blouse. They seemed to appear fuller today, as is always the case three days prior to the onset of my monthly friend.
The thought of that made me cringe. The pain that came with the pleasure of having bigger breasts for six days was unbearable. 

I heard the door creak open and looked up to find his secretary poke her head through.
"He'd be done with his meeting in about ten minutes, please be patient"
I smiled at her and nodded. She seemed nice. Her perfectly brushed hair was swept across the left side of her face, a few strands here and there set free from the band that held it all tightly behind her head.
"Would you like something to drink? Tea? Water?"
"Water would be fine, thank you."
She nodded and shut the door behind her.

The office was silent again, save for the tick-tocking of the clock and the horns blaring in the streets beyond the tall windows.
What the office lacked in size, it made up for in design. Luxuriously furnished with much attention to detail, you could tell my host had a high taste in aesthetics.
An expensive looking painting hung on the wall separating the windows and it was no surprise it was one of a naked woman, her legs wrapped around a traditional mortar with her hands holding the pestle up in the air ready to pound.
I wondered the state of mind of the artist, whoever he was and acknowledged that it was after all a beautiful painting to behold.

Just then his secretary walked in again, water and a  drinking glass steady on a tray in her hand.
"Do call if you need anything," she said as she lay it down on the desk.
I thanked her and watched her leave. She had such a great ass I noticed, and had to stop myself from staring.
When she was gone and the door had shut behind her again I realized I didn't really need the water.
In-fact I didn't need anything but money at this moment in time.
Money. The only thing that could save me from my despair. Being the only person I knew who had a lot of the money I desperately needed, I had called Mr Jibade two days prior and he had asked me to come see him today.

In the four or five months I had known him, all he ever talked about was how he loved me. Married with two kids, a boy and a girl, I could not understand how his brain worked. I definitely was not about to offer myself on a platter as his girlfriend just to get some money but I was hoping he could be sensible enough to strike a business deal with me. This was a messy gamble and I knew too well I was toying with something I may not have been able to handle.
Just as I began to wish again that my host would come in time, he barged in through the doors, his arms spread open before him to receive me.
"My darling! I hope you haven't been waiting too long"
I got up to accept his embrace which unfortunately for me became a struggle to keep my mouth from making contact with his' as he tried forcefully to kiss me.
"O ga o, you don't want to kiss me?"
"Good afternoon sir," I responded trying to get him to shift his attention from his lust to the business of the day.
"Don't sir me my darling, you are my baby".

I turned my head feigning shyness, his wife and two kids stared back at me from the photo frames on his desk.
I immediately felt awful. How could I have thought it was possible to keep this man from wanting me sexually, accept his cash gifts and walk home free.
I was in the middle of a dirty game and I prayed silently in my heart that it wouldn't get me in more trouble than I could handle.
"What would you like me to offer you? You know I have to treat you specially my darling."
Without waiting for me to respond, he barked out, "Shola!" calling to his secretary.
I wondered what the intercom that sat on his desk was for. She walked in and inquired with a "Yes sir?"
"She already brought me some water" I announced.
He looked at me like I was crazy.
"Water ke? For my darling? O tí o! You are too much for that sisi mí"
It was such a hilarious thing the way he fused Yoruba when he spoke. I had to swallow the laugh back down my throat.
"I'm fine sir."
"Shola please hold off on any other meetings till I am done with my darling here." He smiled as he said that, absolutely oblivious of the fact that he was embarrassing me. I caught the look in her eyes, one that seemed like she had formed a new opinion of me that was much more degrading than the first whatever it may have been.
"So you still don't want to kiss me," he began without even waiting for his secretary to leave. I silently vowed in my heart never to step foot in this office again. It was probably a normal occurrence for him to have young girls like me in here, call them 'my darling' like he did me, and show it off to his secretary whom I was already too sure he was intimate with the way he stared at her ass when she left.
Or maybe not, as I had stared at it myself. It was impossible for an ass like that to go unnoticed.

"You are married sir,"
"Come on, don't say that. If you want me to leave my wife for you I will."
He looked me in the eyes as he said this and I could have sworn he was serious. Or damn right mad. I opted for the latter.
"How are your kids?" I asked in a bid to snap him back to reality.
He shrugged, settling his bulky frame in his chair.
"They are in school in America."
I noticed he was uncomfortable talking about his family with me and he had every right to be. Not something to talk about when you are trying to get a young girl to lay in bed with you and satisfy the incessant needs in your groin.
I quickly steered the conversation in the direction I had planned for it to go. I must have rehearsed these sentences a great many times as they seemed to fall out of my mouth like a well written prose.
"About the money I requested for sir," I began, my fingers clasping and unclasping in my laps trying to squeeze back the nervousness that washed over me all of a sudden. "I was hoping I could pay you back with interest. I promise I am going to."
"My darling, I would give you anything you want, you know this. I cannot be doing business with my darling na, o ti o!".

He punched some numbers in his phone as he said that, barely looking at me a moment.
I didn't need anyone to tell me I was steering a ship to no land. There was no way I was going to get anything from this man without giving up what I knew too well he wanted of me. How could I have been stupid enough to think this was even possible.

"What do you need the money for? How much are we talking about?" He inquired of me.
I wondered whether to carry on the conversation any further. Where was this going to end? I hesitated a moment then said.
"For my music sir. About one hundred thousand Naira."
He ran his dwarf wrinkled fingers through his beards and looked deep in thought. His eyes appeared to run a full course around the perimeter of my breasts, then to my face and back to my breasts again.
"That is not money to be worrying yourself about my darling. How much is one hundred thousand naira? Come, come and take a seat on my laps," he motioned to his laps, tapping rather too loudly.

My stomach turned. I wanted to get up and scurry out of his office like a frightened animal. But I wasn't frightened. No. I was disgusted. I tasted the bile in my mouth and swallowed it back down where it had come from. The effect of that was worse than if I had spat it out on his face.
His wife looked back at me from the photo frames on his desk. I looked away. Then looked to the clock yet again. 3:05pm. I got up.

"I'm sorry sir," I began, managing a smile "I have to go now. I really just wanted to see you about this money, I was hoping you could help."
"Omotola my darling, you don't want me to take care of you ni? Everytime I ask for something even small kiss you are running away."
"Thank you sir." That must have been the silliest response but it had to do.
"Text me your bank details, I would have Shola see to it."
"Thank you sir."
"Don't sir me. I'm your darling."
I nodded and proceeded to take my leave.
There was no way in hell I was going to take anything from this man and I made up my mind as I walked out the door this was the last time I was ever going to communicate with him. I passed by Shola at the reception really quickly, barely looking at her long enough to have her see the embarrassment that had dressed my face. 

I felt stupid. I must have looked every inch stupid too.