The Last Time


He saw a flash of Lightning followed by a loud clap of thunder. The rain was as heavy as it had been in the morning, splashes coming in through the balcony, forming small puddles on the ground. He slid the windows shut and drew the curtains close, tucking his hands in the pocket of his hoodie as he walked to his small bed at the other end of the room.

His phone buzzed under his pillow, he picked it up to see his alarm ringing, it was 11:30 am, he looked at his phone with annoyance and dropped it on the bed, at the same time slumped down on it.

About ten minutes later, he heard footsteps–two people–a giggle, a quiet whisper which was followed by the jangling of keys and then the sound of padlock being opened next door.

“Right on cue.” He muttered to himself.

He heard the loud, grating sound the iron doors of his lodge were popular for and heaved a loud sigh as he stared at the ceiling with its numerous brown-spotted stains and felt an old feeling creeping up his throat– his hate for the lodge.

The three storey building located just a stone’s throw from the school’s back gate was the only lodge immediately after the gate, the rest where thrown deep into the wilderness of a village his school was situated in.

The lodge wasn’t anything close to top notch, if anything it was the very opposite with its leaky roofs, heaps of smelling garbage decorating the gate at its left side, the fact that they didn’t have water 50% of the time and had to fetch it almost a kilometer away from the lodge and also the case of light, which had made an appearance just once in his lodge ever since he packed in, to mention a few–were credible reasons to hate the lodge.

But His hate was not due to the leaking roof he had to endure on rainy days, that turned his little self contain into a mini pool, no , he had a special bucket for that which was permanently placed under the point of leakage at the far end of room just behind the door; His hate was also not caused by the heap of smelling garbage either, which gave the impression to all passer-bys that the occupant of the lodge was either Shrek or one of his relatives, no, that too he could bear since it was burnt at the end of the month; it wasn’t the water either, after few months he had gotten used to the strain that his muscles had to endure while holding up two 25 litres Jerrican and walking the long distance, and soon enough he saw it as a gyming alternative; and for the light problem, he had his small generator, the popular ‘I-pass-my-neighbor’, so light wasn’t an issue. The issue was Daren, Daren fucking Olusegun, his neighbor next door.

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Daren was the everyday fine Bobo, fair complexion that made Ramsey Noah looked a shade closer to a black board, a pair of dimples as deep as his mama’s cooking pot and let’s not forget, Hard rock six packs that made his look like agidi.

Yep, Daren had it all plus a fat bank account to add to all the already God given gifts, but that was not why Ben hated him, not even close, it was what Daren got to do every freaking night.

He heard it, like he had every night since Daren packed in, that low cry of pleasure, and it went through his whole body like a wave. He turned on his bed, facing the window, his plastic chair and table were located just below it, books of all sizes and shapes neatly stacked on one another, but he didn’t see them, his eyes were shut tightly as his thoughts drifted to home. He remembered Jamlila and how she had made that same sound when he went in her, how she would hold the sheets tightly as she bit her lower lips in a futile attempt to stiffle her moans.

His right hand searched the bed for his phone, found it and switched on the torch, he scanned the room for a few seconds, then picked his ear piece from the ground, close to the bed, plugged it in and placed the one good ear piece on his left ear as he played “Nonso Amadi’s Tonight” on full blast.

Outside the rain had reduced to a drizzle and the thunder had ceased. He walked to the window, drew the curtain and window open and a rush of cool air came in. The cold wasn’t helping–it never did–but the heat was getting to him.

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Ben looked at the rain and scoffed, he thought of the rainy season as a Police would think of a criminal, but back home he thought differently. Back home Jamila was there.

He heard it again, It was louder this time around, the moaning, Daren was probably drilling her good and his ear piece was doing a terrible job of hiding that fact.

 “Harder! Fuck me Darren!” She cried and it seemed Daren didn’t mind how loud she was as it wasn’t muffled like the other times, it was as clear as Gloria’s tits whenever she wore her transparent white singlet around the lodge.

“Fuck you Daren, fuck you big time.” Ben muttered under his breath as he felt a familiar bulge down south.

He yanked the earpiece of his ear and threw it to the ground, one of the heads opened up revealing the tiny wires and the small magnet inside. He blew a frustrated breathe out and walked to his bed and laid down,this time lying on his stomach and placed his pillow over his head in an attempt to cover his ears, but the sounds passed through easily, each decibel louder than the one before.

The clock on the wall ticked, the curtains swayed to the cool breeze and the crickets outside sang to the night sky, but he didn’t hear all this, he heard just her. He raised the pillow away from his head and threw it to the table, it made contact with the books and they came tumbling down.

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Shear layer of sweat formed on his forehead and his breathing was louder and faster than it had been.

He felt the bulge get larger, as though begging to be freed from the restraints of his jean trouser; the jean trouser that he had worn as a backup plan–It was failing miserably.

He turned and faced the ceiling, then his gaze moved backwards and met the crucifix hanging at the top wall of the room directly opposite the bed.

“ I sure wouldn’t mind some help right about now!” He said softly.

But the crucifix stared back, not moving from the nailed position, just gazing back at the frustrated situation he was at.

Her moans got louder, the thin walls of his lodge was definitely one of his least favorite facts about the lodge at times like this.

He stood up lazily from his bed, both hands placed on his waist, looked at the bulge and chuckled.
“Fine…you win.” He muttered.

He walked to the small bathroom, which consisted of a toilet as well, he pulled off his trouser and the boxers underneath and hanged them both on the bathroom door, grabbed the soap from the soap dish placed on the small sink that was squeezed at the back of the door, very close to the toilet and dipped it in a bucket full of water.

He rubbed it generously on his right hand.

Her moaning was much clear through the bathroom walls, as if she was right there with him. He placed his ears on the walls, grabbed his dick and gave it a good slow stroke, increasing his speed as her moans got louder and louder.

“This is the last time…last time.” he muttered.

Written and Composed by Suga


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