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THE NAKED GIRL

I have lost count of the times I have tapped the steering wheel. My phone buzzes. For a second I weigh whether to pick it or not. What the heck, I can’t think straight when it comes to her.

Kevin, where are you? I really need to get out of here,” goes Adele’s frail voice.

“I’ll be there in a few. Just hold on.”

“Okay. Hurry up.”

THE SEDUCTRESS IN HOT PANTS

The sound of waves breaking on the beach, the rustling of palm leaves and crickets merge harmoniously into some sort of wild symphony. She is standing next to you, leaning on the wooden balcony railing.  A light on the neighbor’s porch gives the complete contour of her body in silhouette.

The bedside clock reads 12:23 AM.  You are at her place. Stark naked. Allowing the salty sea breeze to cool off your body after a steamy session.

AISHA

Photo courtesy everydayfeminism.com

You are standing next to the bed with a tray in your hands. Breakfast in bed. Only phenomenal lovers get such treatment. For a moment you hesitate on waking her up. She is lying on her stomach, topless, with the duvet, pulled to an inch above the small of her back. Irresistible.

THE UNWANTED LADY GUEST

photo courtesy: shiftbalance.org

Having a place of your own is one of the greatest things any young man can have. You can walk around the house ‘commando’, put your feet on the coffee table or leave the toilet seat up without anyone raising a ruckus. However, there is a downside to having a bachelor’s pad. See, most men on this part of the continent have been accused of being irresponsible and a horde of other nasty things. Therefore, when a typical lady visits a brother’s place and finds it tastefully furnished and well maintained, she plots of a coup d’etat.

It all begins with her leaving a panty in the bathroom, next is a toothbrush, a pair of shoes and before your realize it, three-quarters of your wardrobe is full of her stuff. You will be forced to factor her in all your plans. What such ladies fail to understand is that, sometimes a man needs time alone to strategize on his life.

THE LADY IN RED

The dial on your watch reads 2.01pm. Damn! You curse loudly. It’s one of those boring Saturdays. The last couple of weeks have been intense at work to the point you hardly went out. You get off the bed and walk towards your living room, something in the bathroom catches your eye. You retrace your steps only to find that it was just your reflection in the mirror. The image on the mirror looks like the knock-off version of you. Your waistline is bulging and your hair looks like a shrub. This reminds you of one of the New Year resolutions in which you intended to hit the gym five times week yet can’t recall the last time you visited one.