Bola (Fiction)

Hi, guys. It’s been a while: busyness is a bitch. So, this flash fiction first appeared on Novel Afrique sometime last year. Enjoy!!!

There’s Bola, with her massive ass. The first time I fucked her from behind, the slap-slap that my potbelly made against it muffled her moans. Later, she bit my upper arm and drew blood as she came. It hurt, but I smiled – I guess it was the look on her face, of painful pleasure, this harelipped woman, so unbashful.

I didn’t know that she knew my wife – apparently, they’d been friends back in college. More than friends, actually: when my wife introduced her to me, months after I’d actually met Bola, she said: ‘Honey, meet my college best friend, Bola Kayode. We were so close, people thought we were related. But we lost contact after our final exams. I think she had issues at home – right, Bola.’ She nodded; I smiled, shook her hands, my heart hammering insanely. Then my wife went to fetch her a drink from the kitchen, leaving us alone together, and Bola chuckled, covering her harelip with a palm, like a teenager.

‘How interesting. So your wife is my friend!’

I should have stopped seeing her then. I should have manned up and ended things, but I answered when she called the next day and said she missed me; drove to her flat after work. That was two months ago.

Last week, my wife said she’d found out about our affair. She wasn’t angry; in fact, she looked strangely pleased. It was night, and the house was quiet and moderately dark. The children had gone to bed.

‘Bola deserves someone like you. What do you plan to do with her?’

I was incredulous.

She continued: ‘It’d be nice to have her around.’

‘Good lord,’ I whispered, shaking my head. ‘What are you saying?’

‘Well, that I don’t mind having her around. She needs someone. Since her father died after college, she’s been lonely. It’d be nice to have her around.’

I stood up, gave her a long look, then walked away


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