“Room No. 7”

Room no. 7 she asked for and indeed room no. 7 we were given at the motel . . . I was scared shit in my pants as we strolled towards the room direction and made our way through its entrance . . . Modestly furnished, neat with well laid out sheets. A mini size tv placed atop a bedside fridge just by the door to an equally inviting toilet and bathroom facility . . . My guest, my valentine for the year decided on a shower first and foremost before anything else after switching on the tv . . . Nothing of interest was showing as a million and one things went through my by now small mind . . . “What ifs ?”


“What if this or what if that happens ?”

I thought to myself as she slammed the bathroom door close.

I slid on the vast inviting bed, the succulence was soothing and this quelled my troubled mind . . . At least for awhile . . . I usually don’t get this awkward or scared on an adventure . . . This entire trip from the word go had felt strange, somehow; it had a sign of tragedy written all over it . . . No fuel. Her late coming. The untarred, deserted inner roads. Then room no. 7 . . . The puzzles needed some fixes . . . Asap too to lay my mind at rest.

After what seemed like 50 or so minutes, madam came out from the bathroom sparkling and glittering . . . Shinning brightly like a star . . . Skin glowing and inviting . . . She went to the phone and placed an order for breakfast, I declined but opted for a bottle of soda . . . The service was impressive as it was delivered in a jiffy too . . . A plate of yam and eggs for her . . . I watched as she took her time consuming the delicacy, slowly and delightfully . . . She’s indeed beautiful, the babylike skin beckoning on me to come get her . . . I bidded my time . . . Remembering the once popular tv slogan of Indian brand – Mirinda:

‘Never rush a mirinda’

Breakfast over and well rested she crawled up to me in bed, I was down to my boxers by now, still tensed but ready and looking forward to the main act.



It was all jeest a joke when I added and went on to become great friends with this fcbk friend . . . A top graduate from one of the southwestern state universities . . . She had been posted up north to do her one year youth service but had redeployed to Lagos . . . Met her for the first time when I volunteered to pick her from the airport that late January . . . Couldn’t believe my eyes as she was even much more beautiful than the pictures had portrayed . . . We drove down to my place and I later dropped her at the Ojota garage enroute to her Ibadan location . . . The hustle and bustle began in earnest . . . Unending phone calls and inbox messages etc . . . We giggled and pulled each other’s legs to our own delight too . . . She was free just as I was . . . I used to tease her to the point of even terrifying her that I was gonna date her.

‘You are a joke’ she’ll say . . . ‘Don’t even think of it . . . Neither is it possible nor practicable’ she said severally.

On Saturday February 13, we had gisted late into the night on the phone as usual when I dropped the bombshell.

“I am coming to spend valentine’s day wif you in Ibadan tomorrow.”

‘Whatttttttt ?’ she had screamed . . . ‘Don’t even try it’ she tried convincing me.

In the first instance I had no clue where she lived over there and in reality, I had limited fuel to travel as the fuel scarcity was biting then.

With fuel barely enough to get me outta Lagos, I landed in Ibadan on Sunday morning, skipping church and waiting for her at Mr. Bigg’s for the next line of action . . .I had no plans really . . . It was all up to her.

She showed up eventually after keeping me waiting . . . Waiting gets on my frayed nerves and I was at the point of flipping when she finally showed . . . All glowing and smiles . . . Calmed me down by taking me to a fuel station very well known to her family to fill my tank . . . Then.




She had a car and asked I drove behind her . . . I followed without a single clue as to where we were headed till we turned into several untarred side streets . . . We got to the front of a huge building and she honked for the gate to be opened . . . A security man flung it open and we drove into a vast compound . . . All quiet . . . You could hear the drop of a pin . . . She got down from her car and beckoned on me to follow suit . . . I did while also reluctantly following her into a reception area . . . It was a motel I found out.

She was familiar with the place going by the grins from the security guy . . . This was also confirmed both by the receptionist and the statement that was to follow from her mouth.

She was booking for a room . . . ‘Can we have room no. 7’ she had said.

If I was alarmed before now . . . I was at this point very very afraid for my life.

Was this a setup ?
Why room no. 7 ?
Ori iya mi oooooooooooooooo.



The reason for the day’s troubles . . . She planted kisses on my cheek severally and I drew her even more closer to enable me lock lips with her . . . The warmth was reassuring, the towel around her succulently soft body dropping off to reveal the cursp of her bobbies, mindblowing those twinnies were . . . I wanted to suck on them as much as I also wanted to stick my tongue in the warmth of her mouth . . . My third leg was by now on a lone protest to be part and parcel of this mesmerising event . . . It had mounted a guard of honor . . . She rolled further away from the towel, revealing it all . . . The entire landscape of a body whose work was almost spotlessly perfect . . . Well chiselled, the right moulds at the right places . . . Gosh.

We kissed passionately as well as me sucking away like a big grown ass baby on the twinnies . . . Those were delights. I nibbled at the nipples making her gasp and groan for more while also licking round the well shaped full blown breasts . . . This went on for what seemed like forever as she slid to the edge of the bed . . . Cupping her hands over my guy standing guard . . . The feeling was chilling . . . Killing as she slid it through the by now creamy mouth, the tongue working what seemed to be wonders . . . I was in ecstasy . . . In dreamworld . . . Electric shocks delightfully passing through my long dark body . . . She stroked me top to bottom as she so beautifully sucked away . . . The big boss, fully awoken and ready for the show . . . She got up and mounted the standing rostrum, sliding down with cries of joy . . . Both of us lost in the rythym. She grinded like her life and mine depended on it . . . Singing ma name in the process:

‘Ahhhhhhh, Gee. Yeeeeee, Gee. Ohhhhhhh, Gee’

I don’t know whether it was her scream of joy or the explosion from the rock between my legs that brought me back to reality.

I stood there dazed, one eye already blood shot from the quite heavy and deadly slap that had landed on my by now all swollen face.

3 burly and heavily built men standing over the bed, gun welding, the room and indeed the motel had been broken into . . . I was to find out in a most dastardly way a robbery was taking place . . . We heard 8 others lurked around the property.

The beatings we received still haunts my mind till this very day, every night for a fact.

It was yet again the nightmare . . . I’ve dreamt every now and then about what didn’t happen but should have happened in room no. 7.


The valentine sex that never was.

My nightmare !

The END . . . FINALLY.




6 thoughts on ““Room No. 7”

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