BREAKFAST WITH YAW...

The original intention was to borrow ground pepper from Yaw. My headache was epic and I needed to make my noodles hot and spicy enough to wake the dead.

Standing impatiently outside his flat, I knocked for the umpteenth time wondering if my neighbor was alive. I’d caught a glimpse of him in his living room 3 hours earlier when I tumbled from my car and staggered into my apartment. He seemed to be watching T.V. I chuckled drunkenly as I remembered how Jay, my other neighbor, had tagged Yaw “The official chairperson of ForeverAlone Group”.

Rumor had it that he was gay but I never believed it. Yaw might not have a girlfriend but I was certain it wasn’t because he was attracted to men. True, Yaw was gentlemanly, sweet, courteous and an amazing cook… and yeah, it did freak me out that he loved white-wine and abhorred beer but still, I felt it in my bones that he was straight. Straighter than Jay, if one really gave it serious thought.

I sighed in frustration. Jay had packaged himself to Church and the mallam down the street sold ground clay as pepper. I needed pepper so bad and didn’t know where else to go short of heading to the market. I didn’t see myself making that journey so I turned and was headed back to my apartment when Yaw opened the door. He was dressed in a silk night robe, looking like he stumbled out of bed sleepily. With a grateful sigh, I turned and made my way back towards him.

“Yaw abeg no vex say I disturb you… abeg you get ground pepper? I wan make noodles”

He said nothing. Just stared at me as if trying to comprehend what I said or why I was standing in front of him.

“Yaw!!! Did you sleepwalk out of bed?”

He chuckled and beckoned me in. I’d been inside his house a couple of times but the neatness always, always amazed me. Not a speck of dust in place. His living room looked like a Home-Deco prototype; beautiful, tasteful furniture, futuristic electrical appliances and the homely smell of strategically placed pot-pourri. His kitchen, on the other hand, was a cook’s haven. It was huge, with 2 electric stoves, oven, microwave oven, pop-up toaster, high-tech refrigerator and freezers in steel colors… Yaw's kitchen would make a woman deliriously happy. I didn’t know where he kept his spices so I stood aside politely while he shuffled sleepily towards a chrome shelf and brought out 2 huge jars of pepper.

“One is normal ground pepper but considering you have a hangover, you should use this one…” he croaked out.

“What kind of pepper is this one?” I asked as I eyed the second jar suspiciously.

“Its Cameroon pepper… its super, duper hot,” he said with croaky flourish.

I briefly pondered his use of the word ‘Super, Duper’ before pushing it forcefully away from my mind and picked up the jar. I stared at the Cameroon pepper… Yaw stared at me. It was kinda like a weird food-chain. I stare at the pepper with the intention to consume; Yaw stared at me with the intention to…

“I think I’ll use the Cameroon pepper since you say its super, duper hot.” I could resist using his own words.

“Tell you what… Let me make you my secret noodle soup, guaranteed to rid you of your hangover and any horrid headache.”

Horrid headache? What straight man uses the word “HORRID”, I thought in amusement.

I agreed and left Yaw to potter around in his Home-Deco kitchen while I went back to my apartment to shower and brush my teeth. I was gonna get free hangover remedy cum breakfast; the least I could do was clean up so as not to choke him with the fumes wafting from my sweaty pits and other body crevices or worst of all, my dragon breath. Eeeow!

I was on my way out of my apartment when my phone rang. It was Kwame calling. Kwame was my ex-boyfriend slash total asswipe! I didn’t bother to pick his call. I returned to Yaw's house and was surprised to see the dining table set. Sitting in a bowl at the center of the table was the perfect looking noodle soup. It was steaming and the smell was heavenly. Without waiting for my host, I served myself a huge helping and tucked in right away.

A record 10 minutes later, I was done with the noodle soup, sweating profusely and blowing my nose into a paper towel. Yaw emerged, looking fresh and clean in a white T-shirt and boxers. Apparently, he had also showered. He looked at the empty noodle bowl in surprise and I had the grace to blush in embarrassment. He waved aside my apology with a heartfelt laugh. Still mortified at my greed, I decided to stay and make small talk while he made his simple breakfast of toast, scrambled eggs and bacon. As he ate, we talked about politics, movies, music and other mundane issues. Our discussions were interrupted severally by Kwame's calls, which I still refused to pick.

“Why are you ignoring that call?” he eventually asked.

“Its my ex. I know what he wants and I’m not interested in obliging him,” I told him drily.

He smiled. His smile made him beautiful. He and I have been neighbors for a year and half. I’d never really regarded him in a sexual manner, probably because of the gay rumor that kept swirling round him. Now, leaning back on his dining table chair with a full stomach, I looked at him. Really looked at him. Yaw was six foot plus, well built, with muscles in the right places; and he was handsome in a feminine sort of way. He looked like a female amateur muscle-builder. He caught me staring at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Yaw, don’t be upset but I need to ask you something… Are you gay?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he smiled brightly and took a sip from his mug. I regretted my audacity almost immediately.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have asked that… it was rude of me,” I blurted out contritely.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have asked ‘cause its none of your business,” he replied, though his smile was still in place.

An uncomfortable silence fell between us. Luckily, my phone chose that moment to ring again. This time I answered it, signaling Yaw to spare me a minute to take the call. I listened to Kwame reel out long excuses and explanations while Yaw sipped his coffee and stared at me. His look was unnerving so I got up and walked into his den.

Kwame and I had started arguing and I was getting really worked up when I felt a hand on my shoulder. The hand massaged my shoulders as if to ease my anger. I threw Yaw a grateful sigh over my shoulder as I continued my phone conversation.

“Kwame, its too early to argue,” I whined as my shoulder massage continued.

Suddenly, hands were replaced by lips. I felt a rush of blood to my head that made me woozy. Yaw's lips trailed my collar bone to my neck, planting tender kisses. My breathing became labored and I heard myself stammer.

“I — I’m not interested… in — in any yéyé reconciliation talk Kwame.”

I clung onto the phone tenaciously, listening to Kwame talk while my senses awakened to soft kisses. Yaw led me to the sofa and slowly push me down. I sat in a daze, staring at him and listening to the voice on the phone. I was mesmerized as Yaw got on his knees before me and part my thighs. His eyes never left mine as he pushed my dress up, exposing my fair, smooth laps. I gasped in anticipation as he pulled me closer in an unexpected jerk. I wasn’t wearing panties… I never wore panties except at that time of the month.

“There’s nothing wrong with me Kwame! This is how I talk when people bore me with lies…”

Yaw smiled at my statement but his hand had snaked between my thighs, caressing my southern lips. Another gasp escaped me as I felt the familiar heat rise. His eyes flickered down to watch his fingers as they explored my moist core before gazing up at my face again, watching my expression. His eyes had darkened and all coherent thought flew from my head. My breathing became shallow and a moan escaped me as he bent his head to taste me. Kwame’s voice over the phone rang out clearly…

“Why are you moaning? You sound like you’re moaning! What are you doing? Abena? Abena???”

I felt the phone slip out of my hand as Yaw's tongue licked my throbbing clit with a tenderness that made my legs shake. He sucked on the clit delicately and I moaned aloud and grabbed his head. As if to punish me for asking if he were gay, Yaw refused to let go of my pussy. He licked and sucked and thrust his tongue in and out of my wet hole till I screamed aloud as I felt the waves of orgasm crash around me.

“Oh… oh…. Yaw I’m cumming…. I’m cumming… Oh…..”

“Ehn? Abena? Who is fucking you there? My God! Do you realize I’m still on the line? God punish you and that idiot. I’m talking to you and you’re fucking…” Kwame’s voice had heightened to an enraged bleat.

Kwame’s voice seemed distant as Yaw lifted his head from my pussy. His lips glistened with my juice. He leaned to kiss me deeply and I tasted myself. Yaw's kiss almost made me cum again. I had never been kissed so deeply and passionately by any man. I felt him fiddling with boxers as he continued kissing me and my anticipation increased. I wanted him to fuck me so bad that I impatiently reached for his dick. My eyes flew open in shock. My hand was holding the most immense cock ever. It was long, fat and throbbing like an enraged anaconda. Panic replaced excitement.

“Holy damn! This is too big… it wont go in…” I exclaimed.

“Sshhh…. relax Abena… Relax. I’ll be gentle, I promise you,” he said calmly.

“May that big prick be the death of you! Thunder fire your toto, useless ashawo!” Kwame’s voice boomed before he dropped the line angrily.

Kwame’s anger was the least of my problems. I was more worried that I was going to be incredibly bruised as I watched him bend again to eat my pussy. My fear slowly dissipated and was replaced by a need so strong, I forgot he was literally a stallion. He lapped my juices hungrily and sucked at my clit till I was so wet, I dripped on the sofa. Yaw pushed me gently till I lay on my back. He positioned himself on top of me and gently guided his dick into my pussy. I screamed and arced my back as he push half the length of his dick in. The feel of his enormous dick inside me was unbelievable.

With a tenderness I wasn’t used to, he started thrusting in and out of me slowly, making sure not to shove his full length into my core. I wanted to kiss him badly so I lifted myself up, using his neck as a brace. He didn’t stop thrusting as he kissed me deeply and shoved several throw pillows behind me to serve as a buffer. He fucked me nice and slow, my pussy getting accustomed to his size after every few thrusts. Yaw was a talker. He fucked and talked; whispering dirty words into my ears, exhilarating me to heights never before reached. I left little bites on his shoulder, his neck his chest.

I heard his groan get louder and gruffer and knew he was going to cum soon. I braced myself for the fast thrusts but they didn’t come. he maintained his slow and steady tempo but his breath was labored.

“I’m gonna cum in a minute…. should I cum inside you? ehn?”

He didn’t wait for my response. His lips fastened over my right breast and I felt his butt clench as he feasted on my nipple. My orgasm rushed to fore. I jerked my hips back and forth with an urgency he understood instinctively as he matched my jerking movement with rapid thrusts. We both groaned aloud as he filled me with warm cum.

It took us several minutes to catch our breath. Yaw was lying on his plush rug; his eyes were closed and he was breathing calmly. I was still lying on the sofa and turned to stare at him curiously, wondering why his house wasn’t swarming with eager chicks who would gladly kill for his mammoth penis and sexual prowess. His lips lifted in a smile but his eyes were still closed.

“To answer your question… NO, I’m NOT gay. I don’t have a girlfriend because the last girl I dated hurt me really bad and I vowed to stay away from girl wahala for two years.”

I was quite surprised at his response.

“I know people think I’m gay because no one has seen me with a chick but that’s their headache.”

“I don’t think it’s only because you don’t have a girlfriend. You’re so neat and kinda finicky… and you wear really bright colors for a man,” I told him in matter-of-fact manner.

“Have you heard of the word METRO-SEXUAL?”

I smiled at him but said nothing. He smiled back and beckoned me over. I rolled off the sofa and crawl on all fours towards him. He pulled me down beside him and kissed me on the lips, his hand moving to cup my breast.

“This doesn’t mean we’re dating o; shey you know…?” I said playfully.

“I know…. we’re just fucking. And if we happen to fuck several times in the future, we’ll be good right?” he said with a sly smile.

“Right!”

He smiled and kissed me deeply again.

THE END!