I could sense her.

Her eyes on my back. All over my body. I couldn’t see her, but I knew someone was very interested in me.

I’m forty. Married. And in the UK vacationing.
And yes, I was wearing my wedding band.

She was beside me before I could turn. I turned just as she reached out to tap my shoulder.

We both froze… I don’t know what made her pause, but mine was because of a few reasons:-

Yes she was as beautiful as they come.
Yes she was curvaceous and yummy.
Yes she was high or tipsy or both…
But most striking was her youth. She was all of sixteen. And looked eighteen. As a retired connoisseur, I could perceive the right hormones oozing off her sultry form.

At that moment, I started to hear my bruv’s voice of caution,

“Dude, out here, the sort of women you like, are jailbait! They age differently here.”

And here she was. Smiling seductively at me and intent on whispering everything in my ear… Did her cleavage have to be so… there?! Sigh!!

“I’m too old for you.” I ventured directly.

She sidled closer with a broader smile.

“I’m bad news. The sort your mummy warned you about.”

She practically gasped in arousal, warm unclad body parts glued to me.

It dawned on me at that point that anything I said next would unleash the sexual tsunami brewing within the young teen.
Whatever she had been smoking, snorting, eating, anally-absorbing, shooting-up or drinking was good stuff. She was in a good place.

“I’m not high.” She quipped,

And from her voice It occurred to me then that she wasn’t. This was a proper problem now!

“I think you’re a right legend. And I want you.”


I immediately sat up straight and extended my hand,
“Bond… James Bond… The negro version.”

She squealed in good humour and the brunette bombshell was suddenly in my arms. I swear I didn’t hug her back.
As I (grudgingly) extracted my married self from her surprisingly ‘octopusian grips’ she began peppering available portions of my face with kisses.

“Wahala dey o!” I lamented as my people are wont to.

Long story short, I didn’t want witnesses. So I suggested we take a walk.
She blew kisses at a bevy of equally hot and giggly friends, who all either snarled, batted eyelids, or waved at me on our way out of the pub.

Long story shorter still, there’s nothing quite like the crisp chill on a cold winter night to quell ardour.
And nothing quite like fresh air to clear the senses and leave you room to make proper decisions.

I returned her back to The Artillery Arms thirty minutes later. In good health, no longer in lust, though I suspect, now in love.

We had exchanged BB pins and email addresses. Yeah, I’m hybrid old school like that.

May not seem like much, but I was impressed by me.
I can be nice; I am not necessarily nice.


How To Keep Your Man

It is quite easy to get a man. How to keep him though? A challenge for most women.

What to do?
How to do it?
When to do it?
Where to do it?

Enter Betty (real name withheld of course!)

She is one of the hottest women I know. She is gorgeous!

Beautiful. Intelligent. Ambitious. Articulate. Excellent voice. Warm. Real. Laughs from a good, healthy place.

A sexy bombshell.

I have known her for a little over six years now. She is a very close and dear friend. A kindred spirit. My muse of sorts.

In all these (six) years, she has consistently maintained a torrid relationship.

Against the craziest odds.
These odds include taboo, tradition, morality, common sense… amongst a few.
If their relationship were to be made public, lives would be ruined.
I kid you not, human blood will be shed.
Yet, they (discreetly) remain devoted to each other.

We talk a lot. And a few days ago I asked her what the secret of her successful relationship was.
We spoke on phone for almost half an hour on this subject… I took down eight pointers.

On a scale of ’10’, by whatever rational standard, the woman in question would be rated (at the very least) ‘8.5’.

She is truly ‘all that’.

A lot of men think so too. She is most men’s ‘spec’.

She is a socialite, extroverted, charismatic and popular.

So, if she bothers to speak, ladies, I suggest you listen.

In her words…

1) Like each other: do you know it is possible to love someone, yet not like them? Like an obnoxious sibling. Or a wayward child. Or a difficult parent? You have to be with a man you like. Not love (yet). That may develop. But you must like him.

2) Don’t plan: be spontaneous as often as possible. As regards sex, holidays, adventures, outings… Live a little! Just do it! Just do stuff. Be free. Live free and child-like with him. Be that fun-to-be-with girl that you were. Before the issues of life regimented your liberty.

3) Don’t be uptight spiritually:


My dad recently started reading my blog. I was raised Baptist.
A couple of spiritual brethren look in from time to time too.
I will be vilified, possibly chastised to an early grave if I dare relate her exact sentiments here.
Pressure me one on one and I’ll tell you…my sincere apologies.

4) Look good: your man is moved by what he sees. He is turned on visually. Your appearance matters. Do not dress like a slut. Don’t ever make him ashamed of being seen with you in public. Think along the extreme dress-themes of the movie “Pretty Woman”. Dress up to make him proud; and you, looking classy. Leave the sluttiness and naughtiness for his eyes only.

5) Read books: broaden your mind. Hooking your man is not the ultimate goal. Keeping him eternally seduced and besotted is. Conversation is key. The best conversations come from an enlightened mind. Don’t be dull. Don’t be naive. Study to show yourself approved.

6) Watch his movies with him: (she said it just like that…curtly. Her tone of voice discouraged any contrary opinion).

7) Pray for him: And above all; pray. Spiritual births the physical. If you pray for the best for him, he will know. Not because he heard you pray, or because you told him. A bond occurs. Your union will be strengthened.

8) Don’t snoop around: stop that nonsense. Have faith.
Leave his phones, wardrobe, wallet, bags, laptop, iPad, etc alone.
Let him let you in. Men are territorial. Force yourself in, and you’d end up:-

a) Vomited.

B) Causing him constipation, and ultimately purged of.