A DIFFERENT KIND OF LOVE

I have a stalker, nope not that kind of stalker with crazy $h*t and death threats (though in my opinion this chic is just as crazy). This type of stalker just follows you about the internet liking all your pictures and comments. My very own fan girl.

Most stalkers have a shrine of your pictures at some hidden alter, well i can tell you that her shrine isn't hidden at all and all the pictures are framed, hanging out in the sitting room.

From my first burp (smile), to last weeks surprise shot during dinner(where i looked like Alvin's long lost cousin), all my embarassing moments are set on display for the world to see.

Yes, you understand me now. My mum, My stalker. I'm bloody sure am not the only son with a single mum out there but sometimes it seems like i drew the shortest straw.

It wasn't always like this, all my life up until my sixteenth birthday we were the best of pals and then every thing crumbled when i found out that she had lied to me all along.

To find out that the dad i had always wanted, cried for when i was younger was actually an inconsiderate jerk who dumped her when he found out she was pregnant (from listening to a phone coversation i had no business hearing in the first place), Is alot to take in.

My mum and i used to be able to talk about anything, girls, relationships, friendship, school even her job as a lawyer and cases shes dealth with, she had always been straight up with me.

My friends call me 'mama's boy' but i have never been bothered by it. So why did she feel like she couldn't talk to me? Did she think that i couldn't  handle the truth? What ever, right now she doesn't even know i know the truth.

So for the last two months, i have been giving her the shoulder (i really do hate being lied to) , spending more time at the basket ball court with my guys, or just hanging out with Ben and Cesear, my best friends. When i'm at home i text them or girls who want to hook up, my phone has become my constant companion and she detests it.

Yup, she's one of those mums with the technology rules and i know it kind of irritates her to not be able to talk to me about stuff especially when she comes back late and excited about something that probably happened at the firm, maybe this situation would push her out there so she can make friends and start dating again.

Do you have any idea how lame it is when your mum is the first person to comment or like your status? No? Well i wish i didn't too, I guess this is her way of irritating me.

At first i didn't notice because she didn't use her real name.She used 'hotmamaforever' (who does that?!). I gradually began to see her footsteps just behind mine on the internet, Like an ominious cloud, she followed me every where.

From face book to twitter, my space, nimbuzz, whatsapp, she's a member and my follower on all my social networks (this is a crime? right?)

The good thing is i can't be bullied by my friends about it, my school also has a zero bullying tolerance (she made sure) besides appearance is enough to discourage the idea. All these years of football and basket ball paid off (*kissing my guns).

The guys don't even mind, they think it's funny, they love checking out her pictures, in their minds she's a milf (the first and last person that mentioned it to my face ended up in intensive care unit at the hospital).

It really is the worst day on earth when it's saturday and it's raining, all the plans for the weekend made over the week just goes down the drain and you are stuck home with your parents.

Tired of my self exhile to the room, i came into the sitting room with earbuds on and sat on the sofa beside her. An episode of supernatural is on the tv but she's not watching it, she's doing something with her phone (stalking me probably).

"Jude.. baby, i had no idea".

I look up at her and she has tears running down her face.

"baby", she says, "i had no idea, am so sorry i would have told you. I just didn't want you to think that no one wanted you. I wanted you enough for both of us".

Ooh yes, she follows and fans me on watt pad and blogger too, how could i forget.

Ok, so maybe i didn't forget and writing a rant about how i felt was just what the shrink ordered, the only way this cold war would end. Obviously she read it.

Now she's coming to give me a hug, like when i was five and she said a kiss and a hug would make the pain go away. Am not sure about this but am going to let her try. I have kinda missed them.

*After lots of hugs, kisses and apologies (from both the guilty and rude parties), i'm back upstairs in my room waiting for dinner where she has promised to tell me the truth, all of it. She thinks i want to have a relationship with the jerk, damn right i do. My fist badly wants to meet his face.

Minus her stalking, she's really the best parent any one could have, i'm proud of her and i'm not ashamed to say. "I love you mum".

FRIENDZONED BY DARWIZLE

A SONG

Looking out through the window,
The sight of you and your man having a fight again hurts my eyes.

Wonder why you love him,
don't understand
but i know that love is a feelin and not a game.

I'm seated here
I'm thinking and wishing
That i could give you the love that you've been missing

Be the one to take care of you
Serve, love and always protect you
Be that superman that'll fly down and always come to your rescue

You're still with him because he's got the money
To get you all the fine diamonds and nice jewellery
Amma try my best to let you see
That true love will come if you believe.

When i see you with your face down,
no one needs to tell me that damn.. you've been crying.

Obviously true love is blind, but there's a possibility for all to see,
he's not even trying.

It hurts so bad when i see you wear a frown
You're a queen, you deserve to wear a crown.

When i look at you and see the sadness on your face
I think of nothing else to do than to wait.

Wondering if i'ld ever have a chance to hold ur hands
Wondering if i'ld ever have the chance to be your man.

Girl let me be your man
No mistakes
No amends
'Cos girl i'm tired of being a friend.

You're still with him because he's got the money
To get you all the fine diamonds and nice jewellery
Amma try my best to let you see
That true love will come if you believe.

MARY'S STORY

    This is a story of a very stupid and naive girl who ran away from home to the big city thinking to make big waves. She falls into the hands of a married couple and they take her in. Our girl marveled at their generosity, gave away her trust. She told them her life story and how no one would come searching for her. A crippled father, an over worked mother and a small farm in the middle of nowhere.

       Now lets call her Mary for clarity's sake. Mary moved in with the couple and began to work as a maid to earn her keep. She was assigned to clean the mistress' bedroom and that's where the story starts.

         After a month of working there, things began to disappear.  First a gold ring then the madame's favourite jimmy choos. Now these items were easily replaceable as the couple was richer than midas but for some reason the wife refused to let them go and requested for a thorough search of the house and premises.

      All the six bedrooms were searched and still no shoes or ring. Our girl then became vocal about possible reasons why the items vanished.
Quickly suspicion bounced around and the servants were just as quick to deny. A solution was offered, everyone and their properties were to be searched.

       Other than Mary, there were three other maids one of whom had a disabled son, the driver and a gate man. The search progressed to the staff quarters, moving from room to room. Still no luck.

        Mary's room was the last searched .The couple entered her small room alone as usual, there lo and behold poorly hidden in her bag, were the elusive items.

     Quickly,  Mary decried all knowledge of how the missing items came into her possession, She said she was innocent and had been set up. No one believed her. The other servants shook their heads and walked away. There was nothing else to see.

       The couple looked down at her in disgust as she cried and pleaded. Mary cried till blood came out of her eyes and begged them not to arrest her or toss her out as they had threaten to do to the culprit. She had no where to go, she cried. She said in desperation she would do anything; swear an oath even. The couple laughed and mocked her.

      They reminded her that she had left her village far behind. That in the city, things were done differently. The guilty were punished severely for their crimes.

     Part ii

       After a short while of watching Mary moan and plead, the wife had heard enough. She scolded her and told her to put her self together. She said that she won't be tossed out or arrested but she would be punished. Mary hugged the madame's knees in gratitude.
She kicked her away and told her to pack up her things. She was to move to the big house.

      Quickly, Mary complied and followed the madame away from the small room in the servant quarters that had been her home and yet bigger than the room she had had at home.what was the worst punishment? She asked herself, at least she would have food and shelter. If only she knew, the idiot would have run screaming back to the little village she came from.

Part iii

     Her new accommodation was quite a step up from the tiny room. Her current room was on the same floor as her bosses'.

     All day she was nervously anticipating her punishment locked away in the room. When the clock stroked nine, she gave up the struggle with sleep. In dreamland, she never heard her doorlock click and the door creak open. Time for Her punishment had finally come.

      The husband with a lecherous grin, caressed her full breasts. His large rough hands roamed over her flesh as he undressed her. Stupid Mary slept on. His actions a mere distraction, like a fly or mosquito.

       Sleep was brutally ripped from her eyes when he climbed on her. Her eyes opened to see his ugly mug looming closely over hers. She screamed and he laughed , she struggled but he easily subdued her with his beefy hands. Her slight frame quivered in fear.

His white teeth glimed in his black face with triumph, he had her where he wanted her.

"Please master", she begged.

"Just shut up you little thief and take your punishment", he said.

As usual tears weren't far from her eyes.

"Scream.. yell if you want, there's no one here to save you".

        As With most young girls from calabar and it's neighbouring states in Nigeria, their bodies matured from an early age. Mary's figure was delightful and her boss couldn't wait to plough that field.

        Her 'punishment' continued for a month otherwise she lived a life of luxury. No chores, no errands and all the television she desired locked in her padded prison. One day, the madam came with a strange man.

"Remove your gown and lie on the bed", she said "the doctor wants to check you".

"But madam, am not sick", she said.

Smack! The madam slapped her cheek,"filthy whore! Shut up and do as you'er told"

"Madam please", the doctor grabbed her hand,"she might be in a delicate situation"

Delicate situation? Mary was puzzled and hurried to obey. Was it a disease?

     The man poked and prodded her for some time before he turned to her boss's wife with a nod.
The madame's face became sour. Why? she thought to her self bitterly, did people who deserved to have children fruitlessly search for them while the hungry, deprived and wretched people reproduced like rats? she led him out of the room while Mary looked after them in confusion. Our girl had lived a sheltered life. Such euphemisms were greek to her.

Part iv

      The prison sentence was lifted, she was allowed to roam around the house and compound. It was on one of such treks past the kitchen that she heard a whispered conversation. She stopped to listen compelled by curiosity.

      Thus she learned that the deformed child wasn't really Sarah's but the madam's and because of his imperfection, she rejected him and warned them all to secrecy.

      The sad truth was that the little rejected boy,  joseph was their third attempt and all the others had ended as miscarriages. As a test of her love, the wife, Anita decided to play along with his nefarious plans. He was desperate for an heir, a perfect heir to carry on the Marshal name.  They found their golden goose in Mary. Sweet, innocent, naive Mary.

         As time progressed and her 'disease' pregnancy became obvious, Anita's attitude towards her changed while her husband, Oscar became more affectionate. He bought her jewelry, gave her back and foot rubs despite her protests.

       The more attention he paid to Mary, the bigger the green monster grew in Anita, her madame. It made her reckless with her taunts and one day, Oscar overheard her. This earned her the beating of her life and worsened Mary's situation as he would leave for work, leaving her in Anita's capable and envious hands.

        Matters came to a head when the couple had another fight where words and accusations were tossed around. Mary finally got to understand that her 'beloved' bosses weren't so kind. That it wasn't out of the goodness of their hearts they had taken her in. The knowledge of their intentions gave wings to her feet.

       That night, Mary took only the jewelry she had so graciously collected from her boss, leaving every other thing behind, crept down the stairs, out of the house and to the compound gate, all the while fearful that some one would see her and raise alarm. That night luck was on her side, the gateman snored at his post, drooling like a sloth. The same way she ran away from home so did she run from the bosses from hell, bearing their 5  months old cargo. The money from the jewelry would last for a while. The cost of living in her village was quite low.

      Our formerly stupid and now wiser Mary made a beeline for that little farm in nowhere. Apology and reconcilation in her near future. As for her bosses, she couldn't care less what ever happened to them. She prayed her patents would for give her and accept the innocent unborn infant.
 

A DARING WOMAN'S GAME by Anonymous

I woke up alone. We'd only been together for a few months, but I found I could miss him rather quickly in the cold dark of night. He was becoming a writer, possessing a kind of violent brilliant that stunned me every time I read one of his pieces. Seeing him put such astonishing thoughts on paper seemed incredible, like some sort of magic.
He worked at night, when the mood or the inspiration struck him, and he slipped from my bed to answer the urge to create magnificent things about dragons and sorcerers and elves. I usually lay in bed while he worked, listening to the quiet clicking of the keys as he wrote. Then I would welcome him back into my bed when the words had gone dry and he fell exhausted against the pillow.

Tonight I was restless, full of dark and brooding energy. I stepped from the bed and went to the window, looked out over the snarling city toward the smug, fattened moon. I folded my arms across my chest, enjoying the smooth satin of my short nightgown as it shifted against my cool skin, shivering a little as the lace at the edges of the low cut neck nipped at my arms and pressed against my breasts.
Tonight I missed him badly. We'd both been busy at our day jobs, hadn't really spent all that much time together in almost a week. I watched the traffic in the street under the window, wanting him badly, the channel between my thighs aching for him. I slid my hand slowly over the slick, creamy satin and cupped myself, pressed my palm against my vulva until I could feel the solidity of my pubic bone behind the soft flesh, feet the heat of my need burning me through the cloth. I cupped and squeezed my left breast with my other hand, pinched the hardened, tingling nipple and tugged at it as he liked to do. I bit my lip, beginning to breathe hard, almost desperate for him now. To hell with his work, I wanted him, and badly.

I padded barefoot down the hall, and then paused for a moment inside the doorway to his office. He was a breathtaking sight, six feet of lean man hunched determinedly over a keyboard, his dark hair tousled and wearing only dark blue boxers and thin, silver rimmed glasses. I grinned to myself; seeing him in his glasses makes my mouth water, and he only wears them very seldom. I felt a quicksilver flash of mischief, a sudden urge to break his control and concentration, distract the hell out of him.

I stepped silently across the carpet at his back, but I needn't have bothered to be quiet. He never notices anything when he's working, even me. I approached his chair, a really oversized wooden one with a hard back, and then slipped into it behind him, pressing myself against his back. He jumped, turned his head to the side.
"What-" he started.
I covered his mouth with my hand and leaned forward, bringing my mouth to his ear. "Don't mind me, baby, just go ahead with what you were doing."
He frowned, and then grasped my wrist, pulled my hand down gently. "I'll be done in a few minutes," he said, and smiled at me. "Then I'll come to bed."
I returned his smile, wrapping my arms around his chest. "I'll wait."
He nodded absently, already thinking about his book again. I smiled, watching him turn back to the screen and begin to type. I waited a moment, pressed against his back, breathing slowly and deeply, feeling his own chest expand and contract inside my embrace. I tucked my chin over his shoulder, watching his fingers on the keys. Then I slowly slid my hands down to the waistband of his boxers.

His breath caught, then returned to normal, either suspecting nothing, or too preoccupied to care. I ran the tip of my tongue up the center of the back of his neck, and smiled as I felt him shiver slightly. I slipped my hands into the fold of his shorts, and idly stroked his rapidly hardening cock with my thumbs. I heard his fingers stop on the keys for just a moment before the soft clicking began again. I wrapped a single finger around him, just under the head, squeezed slightly, moving the circle slightly up and down, ever so slowly. He shuddered against me. I grinned to myself, as he turned around lifted me up and took the stairs two at a time to our room.


this was written by a VERY shy friend and he begged me to not put up his name. pls vote, comment and prove to him that he has nothing to hide.

EVIL DESIRES

She stood in the darkroom looking out the windows never suspecting the sinister fate in her immediate future, her thoughts far away. He stalked towards her from the shadows, never making a sound. He grabbed her by her long white gown and pulled her to the carpet. She screamed and he laughed,"scream all you want my dear, there's no one else home. It's just you and me" He watched as terror filled her eyes in pleasure. She has just registered that this time there was no stopping him. She beat his chest with her fragile hands and struggled like a butterfly but he was the hulk to her hobbit. His hands wrapped around her neck like a lover and he began to squeeze. Finally he had her just where he wanted her, his beautiful mother.
He saw the light die from her eyes and realised that it was what he had searched for all along. He looked at the hands that just took away the life that gave him life and stil feel the rush in his veins. She lay on the carpet- a fairy tale princess .                      
The sound of the front door opening brought him crashing back to reality. His wife had returned. There was no time to hide, she stepped in to the room and saw the cranage. He looked into her eyes and said,"am sorry..am so sorry" he began to shiver.
She walked up to him and held his hands. "Its ok. I understand. You had to". She smiled as she hugged him to her chest. Only she knew the darkness that dwelled in him and she knew he needed help but how else would she control him.
                        
"Come to bed", she said,"I will take care of the body for you". Thus she led him away from the pillow he had strangled and torn apart.