Part of him wanted this one so bad. He watched as the female waiter served him but he never looked at her that way. He only had eyes for one.
“Puna petite” she said.
“Bon appetite, sir” she repeated.
‘Oh God!’ he thought. Konji is a bastard. He looked around at the faces of the men eating at different tables and tried to imagine them hacking him to death, just to stifle the heat within. It only made things down there worse.
One lady at the next table kept looking at him occasionally, fluttering her eye lids, calmly shooting her shot. He saw through her immediately. Everything about her spells fake. Her wig, her eyelashes, her brows, her lipstick even! He’d handled enough lipsticks to know the difference between fake ones and designers’ just by looking at them. She turned her face and shifted her wig to reveal her neck. It was long and smooth, like a faun’s. Her red blouse was almost see-through and he could imagine her fleshy mounds straining against the fabric. No, scratch that. That was what she thought. She obviously mistook his gaze for attention. He looked at her plate and saw greens. She was freaking anorexic! He loved someone who could eat.
This person on his mind could do just that, eat. He cut his fufu and dipped it into the onugbu soup. Just then, a familiar scent hit his nose. He turned and saw them laughing. They’d just entered and had taken no notice of him. They strode by and took a table just beside the lady in red. The fufu he put in his mouth was straining to move past his throat. He gulped the contents of his glass and stood up to leave. Just then, one of the two looked at him and was surprised. That one. He quickly moved towards the gents and that one followed, taking an excuse from the other.
“I’m sorry, I…”
Their lips touched and this one took him there, raw and hard in one of the tight cubicles.
And eat, he did.
Both men stepped out of the gents feeling different. Something had been rekindled. They went back to their seats like nothing had happened. Bruce looked at his girlfriend and smiled, then leaned to kiss her lips. Anthony looked at his fufu and smiled, lightly touching his lips.
If. She. Only. Knew.
Shawty was ‘bout to get blazed.