Recently, someone asked me how old I was and the question kind of caught me off guard because people usually assume I'm old enough for anything really. In response to this question I go, "16... no 17...OMG I'm 18!". How in heavens did I lose track of time? Who forgets this stuff? I decided it's time to reminisce about the firsts...I can't afford to forget those.
His name is TG. Looking at his facebook pictures now I have no idea what I saw in him. In primary 2, before valentine's we had to pick our valentine's name out of a hat (It was actually a bucket). I picked TG and he picked me as well and I remember being convinced we were meant to be. Unfortunately, my name came up twice and due to that unfortunate technicality my valentine was some other random due I didn't give a rat's ass about.
UI, my Hausa hottie, is definitely dreamy. Dare I say, he is beautiful. I had agreed to go out with some other boys before him but I refuse to include any affair shorter than three weeks in my list of relationships. I was in SS2 when he sent for me. He was a year older. I must have been very happy that day because I went. He approached me with his entourage of male friends, all of whom I was irrevocably terrified of. He then proceeded to say "I have been seeing you around this school and I want to get to know you". *Cringe*. I should have run away then but with those body builders at our heels, all I could do was smile. He never really asked if I would date him and I guess I just loved how he took charge or at least his friends did. I mean once, I was sitting at prep and he came to pick me up. He always walked me back to my residence. He asked if I was ready and I said I wasn't. His friend then proceeded to gather my books and put them in my hands and practically ordered me to do his bidding. I don suffer sha.
First (real) Kiss
Mayowa and his friends are the reason I am skeptical about Yoruba boys...no offense to the wonderful Yoruba boys out there. Upon meeting me his first comment was "How old are you?". I was 16. "You aren't legal for most things...but your legal for other things (tracing his finger down my legs)". He told me he was 21. I was happy, I like older boys. He asked me out the next time he was at my place. I said no, but I decided why not give him a hug before I leave him alone in my living room. He decided that would be a great time to force his tongue down my throat. I was curious so I let him devour my lips a moment longer. My eyes we're wide open. I cried after, reason being, I had been lip raped by a deceitful, overbearing, 19 year old who unfortunately smelt like heaven.
I was in JS3 and it was at the infamous 11:45. I arrived way too early and I asked my driver to circle a bit. I went alone because my sister wanted to go with her friends. I was to meet them there. She gave me a couple of tips though before I left. "Go upstairs, downstairs is for razz people". The music wasn't even playing when I entered. I said hi to some people I knew. Everyone was sitting and standing in groups. I proceeded to climb the stairs. 1, 2, 3..."Sorry sister upstairs is closed", said the bartender. "I know", I replied but I kept on walking because everyone was now staring. I couldn't stop now. The huge black padlock on the gate was obvious from where I was standing but I kept thinking to myself "Downstairs is for razz people". I got to the top of the stairs and banged on it for a while. The lady there said, "We are closed" with no sympathy. I took the walk of shame back down the stairs, wishing all the while that the ground will open underneath me. I ran to the bathroom and hid there till the party was live. This was no doubt the most embarrassing day of my life. I never went upstairs. I felt like I deserved to remain downstairs with the razz people.