Unmindful of the inquisitive stares at us from other dinners, Tracy continued to chat with me and I was surprised that she seemed to know so much about me. I tried to find out from her why she was interested in me and she explained that she saw my photographs on my campaign posters and just liked me and wanted to know more about me.
Well, I didn’t totally buy her explanation but decided not to push her further. I was convinced that with time I would know her real intention.
By the time we left the restaurant that evening, we had exchanged phone numbers, became friends on Facebook and followed each other on Twitter. And in the next few days, she was hanging out with me on campus and tongues were wagging that I was her new boyfriend.
I was rather uncomfortable with the development. Like I said, I was not convinced that she was hanging out with me just because she saw my photographs on my campaign posters and simply liked me. I felt there was more to the sudden friendship. Why me when she had a lot of rich, handsome dudes at her beck and call she could pick on for a date?
However, my friends felt I was being ridiculous. The girl was in love, they concluded and I should consider myself lucky that I was her object of desire. All I needed to do was hit on her and possibly have a chance to access her father’s wealth. Well, I told them I wasn’t a gold digger and hitting on rich girls for cash wasn’t part of my resume.
Anyway, Tracy didn’t leave me guessing for long about what she wanted from me. She offered to take me out one evening and we drove in her Aston Martin sports car to a five star hotel in downtown Lagos and checked into a luxurious suite. We drank expensive wine, ate chocolate and ice cream as slow music played in the background. The ambience was good and the wine relaxed my nerves and I was mentally and physically ready for whatever surprises she had up her sleeve to throw at me.
Before long, Tracy asked me, in a rather commanding tone, to stand up and stand in front of her. I was taken aback but I stood up from the couch were I sat with her and stood in front of her like a slave before her master.
“Drop your drink,” she ordered and I put away the glass of wine I was holding and stood hands akimbo before her.
Tracy looked at me, scanning me from head to toe, and then a mischievous grin with a tinge of passion to it spread across her face. “Take off your clothes,” she ordered.
“What?”
“You heard me, take off your clothes… Undress for me.”
“Everything?”
“Yeah, take off everything… No more questions just do what I said.”
I didn’t hesitate; I took off my tee shirt and threw it to the floor then placed my hands behind me to enable her have a full view of my bare torso.
“Cute abs,” she commented then sipped some wine and urged me to take off my jeans.
Again, without much ado, I took off my jeans and I was down to my boxers. Her eyes glared at my bulged crotch and the lust in those eyes was unmistakable. “Go on, take off your boxers,” she ordered.
With my hands on my waist, I stooped, peeled the boxers downwards to my knees and while it dropped to my feet, I stood straight, with my hands placed behind me to enable her have a full view of my nudity.
Her reaction was dramatic. Her eyes popped out as if they were going to fall from their socket. At the same time, her mouth opened wide and she seemed suspended in time for a couple of seconds before she came to.
“Jeez! Are you kidding me? So it’s true?”
“What’s true?”
“That your cock is the biggest on campus.”
“My cock? Don’t flatter me. I know it’s big but not the biggest on campus.”
“It’s the biggest I’ve seen around,” she said rising to her feet. She placed her wine glass on a table and knelt in front of me. The passion, the desire and the sexual hunger in her eyes were unmistakable. The table seemed to have turned. Before now, I was like a slave standing before her but seeing her now in her passion-struck eyes kneeling in front of me, she cut the picture of a slave girl about to worship in the temple of my cock.