Friday night came and I found myself at Hotel De Royale, the rendezvous. My client contacted me earlier that day and gave me directives. He sounded warm and kind over the phone but I waved it aside. It's strictly business for me. I was so uncomfortable in the hotel room even after freshening up. I was tempted to call him, as he was taking too long. I ended up fiddling with my phone instead.
He arrived at around 9:30pm, apologizing for being late. He was in the shower after about ten minutes. He was out soon, with a towel around his mid region. Noticing my nervousness, he climbed into bed and just held me. When I relaxed visibly, he began to talk. At first, I gave him one- worded answers but he pressed on and we were soon conversing like we've known each other for sometime.
We talked for the better part of the night and soon, I knew it was time to do the 'do' and my anxiety returned. It doubled and almost crippled me when the client said he'll be performing without protection. My eyes widened in horror as I stumbled up from the bed and headed to the door.
“Two million naira.”
I stopped in my tracks and turned, not sure that I heard aright. He was still in bed, smiling at me. A million thoughts raced through my head. I only needed a hundred and fifty thousand naira to move. Thinking of every possible thing I could do with two million naira moved my feet back to the bed and I sheepishly nodded my consent.
My client was a passionate lover; he kept releasing low groans deep in his throat. He took me lovingly, like his own and I didn't know when I began to moan out of pleasure. When our bodies synched and my thrusts rose to match his, tears began to run down his cheeks. I was scared but nonetheless, we didn't stop. His eyes were closed and his breathing became ragged, his thrusts deeper and faster. I knew he was close and drew him deeper into me with my legs around his waist, locking him in until both of us climaxed. He rolled off me and slept off almost immediately with an arm around my waist. It took me longer time before I gave in to sleep.
By the time I awoke the next day, he was gone with a note at the bedside asking me to check my bank account. I flipped to the other side of the bed and picked my phone. Right on cue, a credit alert from my bank that read 2.5 million stared back at me.
The next message read, “the extra is a token of my appreciation, for taking me places that I thought existed only in my imaginations. You're so sweet, Jess.”
I called him when I left the hotel to thank him but he simply waved it off as nothing. From that day, he kept checking on me to know how I fared. We talked extensively and he still credited my bank account, but I refused to see him again.