Change has its upsides and as well downsides. The sex with Ntwanu was just okay to my disappointment. I felt a déjà vu that was unusual and daunting and strained to have it come to an end. He was no fool, so he felt it but was too sad to ask. I was also too ashamed to bring it up. It wasn’t my intention to make him feel bad, I had not the slightest thought to communicate displeasure through our pleasure. After all, I initiated it. That evening, we both walked on our toes, afraid the slightest sound might cause chaos in the house. I was particularly uncomfortable because everything in that house belonged to him, including common water to quench my thirst.
As I slept like a stiff wood right beside him, I felt him hold me tight in his embrace after what seemed like forever. I pretended to be asleep but my veins may have given me out. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you now Bee. You know what our relationship means to me.” I felt some warm liquid on my back, and realized he had been crying. My saviour, lover, friend like no other, but I had managed to break him. I turned slowly, with no knowledge of my own tears, and started wiping his with both hands. “I am sorry. I don’t know what is wrong or happening to me. I definitely love you, it’s just that something feels different and I don’t know what”
His silence was a very sharp cane. His tears were my worse nightmares but he told me he understood after a while. “I have never seen a strong girl like you before. I know you have been through a lot and will surely want this connection even if it means just being your guardian angel although it would break my heart”. Those words cut into me like a sharp machete and broke the skies of my eyes. I cried until my pillow drowned.
The next day, he took me to a party. My kind of party where connections to utilize my expertise abounded. It was easy to be signed up for a booking which promised to pay 15,000 US dollars for an hour video. All I had to do was present my body, be ready to follow the script of sex styles and pretend to enjoy the raw sex even if I didn’t. I was assured though that the man involved would be tested for sexually transmitted diseases and told to see them for my blood sample before leaving. I was very happy because I was going to make my own money and not depend on Ntwanu who had come to be known as Manor. The party was classy with so many refined people. I felt good about the profession.
Ntwanu was happy for me but sad I had chosen that path again. To him, he wanted to see if I had gotten over it, put me through school if I wanted and set me up. But that was not in my plans. I wanted to, of course, further my education but had no plans to rely on someone to do so. At first, I thought of returning to Ghana to see how Mimi and our business were doing but upon getting the contract, I decided to stay, get some money before leaving the states.
The set was bright pink. I was to act a spoilt brat of a very wealthy man who loved big black dicks and was to engage in a one man fantasy. The sofa was white and pink, the bed had light pink bedsheets with about four pillows and six little side pillows. The chandelier was huge with what seemed like tear shaped diamonds which had a special glow in its lit stated. I was mentored to initiate it to make it impossible for the guy to resist and I did.
I called for water and he brought it, I poured it intentionally on the frontal of his trousers, then held it in my bid to pacify him. He tried to pull away but I forced my left hand into his supporter, bringing his little man out and forcing it straight into my mouth. It was scripted to be his weak side so he became weak with need and succumbed to the pleasure. Then he tore off my pink lingerie, turned me in doggy style and stroked for more than five minutes, laid me by my side with one leg up and pumped me for more than six minutes, lifted me to the sofa, put my ass on its armrest and pumped me for more than three minutes. I had not known the guy would be as big as he was, did not know he could stroke for as long as he did and in such painful styles. But I was not to show pain, all I had to do was show pleasure by smiling, moaning and begging for more. At first hand, I felt the pangs of hypocrisy right in my skull. I asked myself how actresses and actors live with thoughts of pretence in exchange of money but I guessed they are mostly not as fucked as I was. What irked me was the fact that I was supposed to swallow his cum and pretend it tasted like my favourite ice cream. I tried my best and lived as they wanted all through the hour, had my cash sent in the name of Vivian Vevoda and left with my bruised beneath.
I did all these things in my disguise, went home, sat on hot water and ordered some mending products online for my little me. That hour of pain and shame did not equate the wealth accrued. So I thanked my stars. That same evening, I had a call that a powerful man wanted me to entertain him for 5000 dollars just for a night the following day. I was to be blindfolded and dressed in an army wear which would be provided for me at the entrance. I tried to guess which powerful person it would be until sleep, which knows no excitement nor pain, stole my consciousness on the excuse of rest.
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 2018
Photo Credit: Google Pics