“That First Kiss”

Finally . . . Slowly but surely I did it, mustering enough courage to lean forward and lock my lips with hers . . . I had being dying inside of me to taste how creamy and juicy those enticing and certainly inviting lips were . . . I did it . . . I tasted them.

Sweet Jesus . . . I slept soundly and real good that night . . . Dreams come through only if and when you pursue them.
Several months earlier, myself and my partner in crime, the one with whom I was co-labelled ‘Blues Brothers’ had gone visiting a friend or taken a stroll . . . I can’t remember for certain what exactly took us within that path but I sure still remember our coming into contact with these two angelic beings . . . Young sissies they were . . . One light in complexion and the other extremely dark . . . I was to find out they were sisters . . . We met again . . . Months after accidentally sighting them with my friend . . . They had both gained admission into the university, my university . . . The meeting though coincidental was very much welcomed . . . Light sister was in the law department while the dark sister was in the economics department . . . My being in the political science department meant we were both in the same social sciences faculty and we shared related courses . . . It was a stroke of luck . . . I became a good acquaintance to the dark sister . . . Simply just good friends . . . No strings attached . . . The thought never even crossed my mind at that time . . . With the passage of time we became closer and closer . . . We came home together sometimes from campus . . . Their house was just 3 bus stops from mine and other times too, I strolled over for the both of us to tag along to campus together . . . In no time the first semester was over and the easter holidays provided me an opportunity to attend a bash thrown for the fair skinned sister to mark her birthday.

The party, well attended rocked all the way . . . The following day I was over at my dark friend’s place . . . She had told me previous day to call her on my way to school . . . And there she was with my arrival, not sure if she wanted to go or not . . . The party was still telling on her . . . She was tired, a hangover . . . The celebrant had gone to school though . . . ‘Darkie’ was going to be all alone in the house and wondered what I was even goin to do on campus . . . ‘Why don’t I just keep her company ?’ she asked . . . Lectures were yet to commence anyway.

I didn’t think twice about the offer . . . “Oh my. Oh my” I thought to myself . . . Truly, I had come to the point I was wishing she was mine . . . In a way, we had a thing for one another . . . I missed her if I didn’t set eyes on her for a couple of days . . . I longed to be with her every now and then . . . I was liking her . . . So much too.

I chose to stay . . . The house was big, a semi detached duplex . . . 4 bedrooms with 2 sitting rooms, one on each floor of the storey building . . . A BQ with 2 rooms at the back too, they had moved in a few years earlier from their mum’s official quarters in Ikoyi . . . It was all quiet in the whole house . . . We had it all to ourselves . . . We talked. We laughed. We discussed school issues . . . The lecturers. The big boys and girls on campus. The courses and our expectations etc . . . She had told me her only chore for the day was going to pick her little niece from school some distance away by noon . . . So I knew I had good time at hand to rock and roll with this new friend of mine . . . At a time, we sat on the dining table, then the couch. We stood up too looking out through the wide glass door and then finally, each settled on 2 single seaters . . . Sitting on the edges and facing one another, a dark wooden stool separating the two of us . . . As we chatted away, I swung both feet back and forth . . . This motion at a time gave me chills as a leg touched hers . . . I froze but noticed she was expressionless . . . I propped myself up to sit on the edge of the settee as against leaning on it . . . Momentarily at a standstill . . . Minds lost in deep thoughts . . . ‘Go get her’ I heard a voice within me saying as I lounged forward . . . Eyes locked with hers . . . Heart pounding and pacing while also practically panting . . . I cursped my lips on hers, encycling them . . . Intensely and sweetly too . . . Nothing could have been that passionate in what was that brief moment, it all seemed eternal . . . Like forever . . . It was both joyous and shocking at the same time . . . The feeling was mutual . . . Even without asking and the attendant risk, I had crossed the line . . . But, was I really ready for this ?

The kiss . . . From that day forward was the commencement of 4 years plus a few months of intense campus courtship.

The beginning of what was to be an excruciating love story and affection between ‘Darkie’ and myself began thereof.
It very almost resulted in holy matrimony, but however, ended in a most dirty and heart rendering break up.

Resources . . . Money, time and soul sapping energy all down the drain.

Kikikikikikikikikikikikikiiiiiiiiiiiii !



One of the great things about being married are the unplanned but pleasant happenstances you come across . . . A quickie for instance is one of them . . . Unplanned hot sex that is.

I had a couple of them . . . Imagine being fully dressed up for church one of those early mornings . . . Ready to leave the house . . . My responsibility as the harvest committee chairman demanded I was at all 3 Masses . . . I made it late to the 1st though cos of the early timing . . . This particular day . . . All dressed up and about to leave . . . She got up, unusual too.

‘Have you eaten ?’ she asked . . . I was shocked cos I usually don’t eat that early . . . I was to know what she meant minutes later as the food was not of this world . . . Guess she was horny . . . A quickie to the rescue and off I dashed away . . . I got laid . . . One for the road . . . Chuckles.

If you think that was a big deal . . . You berra hold it right there . . . Hold on I say.

Ok, there was also this night too . . . One of the nights she came back home glowingly happy . . . Unusual it was too cos the norm was coming in stressed and harassed like a wounded tigress . . . Which female banker won’t anyway ? They’re all overworked with unrealistic targets . . . Shame.

So there I was in my living room watching a Man United champions league match when she strolled in . . . Smiling and reaching out to gimmie a hug . . . What ?

A hug during the week was a huge huge surprise . . . So I had pulled her to me and planted a sweet warm kiss on her tender lips while also holding very firmly but securely to her soft body, the succulent twinnies, those two luscious breasts brushing against my barely covered chest . . . This sent cold shivers down my spine.

In the heat of the moment, she hurried out of her shoes while flinging the hand bag away . . . I got up swiftly, also gently pulling her along wif me . . . Lowered my body to lift her off the ground like a baby, whisking her away to the other room . . . Clothes yanked off, bra, panties and boxers pulled out . . . All these done neatly and swiftly in the darkness of the night . . . Lights out.

Emotions and passions being poured out . . . We pounced on and pounded at each other . . . Eating ourselves raw . . . Literally uncooked . . . But deliciously too.

Ok, lemmie spare you the seemingly gory yet exciting details . . . Cut camera. Cut camera.

Then we heard the steps of the nanny coming from the direction of the kitchen . . . She was still around and yet to be discharged for the day . . . Her ward, my young charming son laid sleeping on the bed . . . In my room.

Call it love making . . . Label it sex . . . Refer to it as a quickie . . . The free and readily available rumble in your jungle.

A marriage brings it to you served hot and spicy . . . As you like and want it.

Buffet . . . 3 course . . . Cocktail . . . However. Whenever. Wherever.

Gosh . . . I miss all of that . . . I’m sex starved.

Kikikikikikikikikikikikikikiiiiiiiiiii !



I ran into this friend of mine while walking home one evening; a still very dashing young widow and mother of four – 3 boys and a girl.

Probably about 35 years of age.

She is always on about my goatie.
‘Ama pullout this goatie of yours’ she said once again.

“Ohhhhhh, do go ahead” I gladly concurred while also adding that what goes around comes back around for I’ll also pull something substantial in return . . . Every action warrants a reaction that is.

‘You’re joking right ?’ she said, smiling sheepishly and indeed very sexily too.

At that moment, I saw a good opening to drop one of those unguarded responses of mine . . . “You’re sexy you know”.

The glow on her face was phenomenal . . . Like that of an about to be laid eighty something year old.

You use that ‘word’ she said referring to SEXY.

I threw my hands in the air in exasperation.

‘SHIT’ . . . I use a lot more I said, further shocking her.

I use gangsta . . . I use nigga . . . I use all sorts, I disclosed to her . . . Mouth wide open.

She stood there in total disbelief . . . Amazed. Amused. Astonished.

The truth is most people don’t know this about me till they get within arm’s lenght . . . Close enough.

I swear alot . . . Ohhhhh, shocking revelation ?

According to a scientific study, intelligent people use more swear words (Google it) . . . Lol.

“I, O’Shine ORIGINAL, do solemnly swear . . .”

I can swear for your life . . . Not mine.


I so fucking do.

‘Ohhhhhh, he just used another swear word’ you’ll say.


FUCKING is jeest a place in Austria, situate along the border town with Germany . . . So live with it.

It’s a way of life for the people in the town of FUCKING.

They don’t swear . . . They jeest live.

Kikikikikikikikikikikikikikiiiiiiiii !



*Fucking is an Austrian village in the municipality of Tarsdorf, in the Innviertel region of western Upper Austria. The village is 33 kilometres north of Salzburg, 4 kilometres east of the German border.

“A reason to LOVE again”

Beauty.FULL is what I call her. Vastly knowledgeable she is too. Her intelligence is second to non.

In her humility and truthfully too, she had described herself in one of our numerous phone conversations . . . ‘I am a jack of all trade and master of all’.
Truly, no better way to describe her.

I remember an intense discussion we had. She had put me on the spot, very calmly too. I left richer still . . . No woman had ever spoken or talked to me so warmly that I can remember.

Every second or minute of the day that her thoughts come through to me, my heart is gladened.

Her smiles have uncontrollably and effortlessly melted my hardened heart.

‘You have a way with words’, she once said, smiling warmly.

I still recall, freshly too our first date. We had attended two similar events and I drove her home. Parked outside her serene neighbourhood, we had taken probably another 45 minutes chatting away in the car. I wish it could’ve gone on forever.
Time to go and she slipped her lefthand fingers into mine, squeezing them as she slipped away into the dark nights.
I felt a sexual chill go through my spine. I hadn’t felt such sweet sensation in a long long long time.
That memory and many such like it have sustained my nights in very recent times.

Days later, I shocked her . . .

“Will you marry me ?”

I couldn’t have put it in better words.

And I meant it from the deepest bottom of my heart.

I’ve found a reason to LOVE again !


“Welcome to Ayobo”

I’ve male friends who draw conclusions from comments made by my fcbk female friends on my page and especially posts therein.

‘I am sure you and so so and so are into one another . . . You must be dating XYZ ? . . . Are you f.cking ABC ?’ etc.

These silly thoughts usually make me giggle most times, wondering how stupid and silly people can get coming up with unsubstantiated conclusions.

I have learnt, widely too that social media relationships are formed mostly behind closed doors . . . Without anybody’s inkling.

Inbox etc. No clues. No traces.

That was how I met this really young beautiful chick back then, in my early days on fcbk.
I’d noticed her few and far in between likes on my photos and posts.
Not a word. Not comments . . . Just likes.

A graduate of one of the early private universities and had infact completed her masters programme all by the age of 24 years.

I had checked her out on her page and sent an inbox . . . Not your kind of “Hello BAE” or “Hi Sweets” though.

Experience taught me to be courteous and generous with adulation.

“Beauty and brain you are . . . Your Dad is going to heap a great reward from your dowry” I had jokingly written inbox to her.

Her response was not discouraging either.

‘Why do you say so ?’ she asked.

We went back and forth leading eventually to my earning her phone number.
Calls followed . . . Daily and then mornings and nights.

I’ve this weakness, once I like you and if indeed I do. It doesn’t take me a blink for you to know all about me.
Thereafter, I’m sorry for you. Chances are you’ll catch a bug off me.

She did too.

‘You have not called me today’ she’ll say once the morning call was late.
In reality, I am not your truecaller . . . Follow ups are huge tasks for me. Even more worrisome once I found out she lived in AYOBO (far) . . . “What da f.ck ? Who’s gonna go that far for a pussy . . . cat ?”

Cut me some slacks mehnnn . . . It’s usually about the pussy when those chats commence.

Where I became more cautious, she was carefree throwing caution to the wind . . . Indeed careless, sometimes.

‘Won’t you invite me over to your place ? We should have a weekend to ourselves’ and things like that from her.

And really . . . Why not ? especially now that we had been going on like that for over 3 months.

A couple of times that I called she had startled me.
‘I am with my Dad, say hello to him.’

I froze out when on one of those occasions the Dad had mumbled a ‘HELLO’ into the mouth piece.


“Don’t try that with me again” I warned her.

Finally we agreed a weekend I wasn’t busy.
‘My Dad is dropping me a bus stop away from you, I’ll call you to pick me once we approach’ she said.
She did called and again wanted me to say ‘HI’ to her Dad.
I was mute once again . . . Dead SILENT.

Minutes later, there we both were, she sat excitedly in my car and we drove towards my place.

She was all giggles and grins. I wasn’t exactly.
She was your definition of fragile. Breakable. Pint size. Tiny. Small pocket sized . . . The photos had for a fact lied.

Standing beside her gave me away as a true to type agbaya or at best . . . ‘Uncle’.

She didn’t in all honesty mind my age or even physical size.

“Are you crazy ?” I asked again . . . Curious.

We spent a few hours at mine.

“?!:; ()”‘@&#*!:?”

Then hit the island for a movie.
The Palms, Lekki was our destination. Her first time too. I hated the movie, I was bored stiff and infact started a convo wif another young lady to my right.
We had a few bites and drinks thereafter and before you could say shoooo it was already past 7 pm.
I had to sort out a number of things in Ikeja which took a lil more time before we headed towards Ayobo.

Lord have mercy . . . That journey was the decider for me.
It was like I was doing hide and seek with all the Okadas in Lagos. The traffic was mind blowing. We crawled all the way from around the Pen Cinema.

At about 11 pm we finally approached Ayobo.
Horrid bumpy roads . . . ‘You are lucky we aren’t in the rainy seasons’ she said.
The entire place was in total darkness by the time we got to her neighbourhood.
Damn. How was I going to even find my way outta here I thought as she insisted I met her Mum.
‘They’ll be outside waiting for me’ she had said.

Indeed, her whole family; Mum and 4 sibblings, 1 boy and 3 girls with the exception of the Dad were out there waiting . . . Throwing me a guard of honor as I acknowledged them.

‘Good evening sir’ the Mum shocked me.
Truly, she was probably just about 5 years older than me.

‘Thanks for taking care of us’ she concluded as I zoomed off into my car, totally bereft of how I was gonna make it out of this hole.

Not even an Okada in sight or anywhere to guide me out of the many twists and turns we took getting in.

After what must’ve seemed like eternity, I navigated my way out unto the main road, leaving behind the bumps and ditches. I drove not just like it was a race against time, but like if the car behind me caught up then it’ll be the end of the world . . . I ran.

I got home, eventually . . . Exhausted . . . Both physically and mentally.

I slept; peaceful and soundly and woke up with an assurance there’ll be no return leg.
Absof.ckinglutely no replay.

The END.

Kikikikikikikikikikikiiiiii !



As at 2011 when I visited Ayobo for the first and last time, it was one extremely unknown end and corner of Lagos State . . . As in outskirt . . . I hear it is so hugely developed now.

“Never Say NEVER”

Luck they say is when opportunity meets preparedness.

I got to be a member of my society’s sub committee a few months back.
The task was to select a production facility for a project we had intended gifting the church.

A few days after my selection into the committee, I ran into a friend that asked me for advice on a related matter and who also came up with a known name as a solution to the matter on ground.
I then mentioned my church society project that could be handled by this same individual.
Told my friend to mention it to her and that she gave me a call.

I mentioned the individual’s name to a committee member who coincidentally also knew her.

‘Ohhhhh, that’s right. I should have even remembered she could do it’ he said.

This person called me and I gave her a low down on the matter. She was excited and wanted to come see me right away.

“I am sorry it’s not my call” I made her realise since it was a 3 man membership committee.
I advised she met all 3 of us together with a promise to facilitate a meeting.

We found another production facility, a more seemingly experienced and organised one.
A well established company actually. I called their rep and arranged a presentation for the same day the other person was coming.

On the said day, we got the unit in church on the alert about happenings, while also requesting them send in representatives to the presentation.

My first contact came in heavily prepared and with interesting samples as well as cogent explanations.

The rep of the established company not only came late but without samples. He strolled in pompously with his catalogue.

I reminded him – “I told you to come with samples” when he tried to explain he didn’t know he was coming for a presentation.

Despite that the church unit were more favourably disposed towards him.

They asked both parties to produce samples of the brief given to them.

The rep of the established company was okay by the arrangement while the individual wanted to be paid for the sample.

We reported back to the society our findings at the monthly meeting.

The idea of paying for a sample was vehemently opposed and the established company was once again lauded.

The odds were widely stacked in their favor to get the job.

Strangely, the individual called me the following day with the wish to make the sample without it being paid for.

Final presentations were subsequently made by both parties and with a shocking result.

. . . Apart from a few corrections here and there, the individual did a lot better and was picked.

Lesson here is . . . Never give up and don’t let overconfidence bring you down.

The boy’s scout motto readily comes to mind . . . Be prepared !


“Boom Boom Shakalaka”

The difference between a man and a woman is crystal clear.

Come . . . Let’s see.

I remember a couple of years back when a close female friend was about getting married.
She was so excited about it all and all necessary arrangements had been concluded months before the D-Day.

One thing she needed ‘help’ on was choosing her wedding dress and she wanted a male opinion so begged me to go wif her (They say ‘her’ man must NOT see the dress till the day – Utter NONSENSE).

So there I was hoping from one bridal shop to another the full stretch of Opebi / Allen Avenue Axis in Ikeja: window shopping, sizing and acknowledging or ‘rejecting’ another man’s woman’s wedding gown.

‘Is this okay ?’ she would ask glowingly.

“Sure it is” was all I uttered.

You bet I wasn’t much help cos I allowed her make her CHOICE . . . It was her joy afterall.


My point is, recently I was in need of a new pair of shoes for an event (I was to MC my bestman’s wedding dinner in Abuja) and was co-incidentally with a female friend when I muted the idea.

She revealed to me one great side street place to find a perfect fit.

Lo & behold I was at a loss with what to choose when we got there.
I loved a particular pair but they didn’t have my size so I settled for a very similar design.
My ‘accomplice’ was of a different opinion and the next thing was her saying and insisting I should take what she LIKED.

See me see trouble o – Na me go wear am and na me dey pay for am now.


It’s been weeks now of me expecting her to pop outta the blues wif the one she ‘liked’ for me as a surprise gift – Still waiting.

Maybe it’s my Christmas present ?

Merry Christmas guys.

Kikikikikikikikikikikiiiiiiii !