We strutted out to the garden, Julia leading the way, while I followed right behind her, my attention partly on her ass which was jiggling like a balloon filled with water, and the insects which were sucking nectar from the flowers in the garden. Back in those good days of teenagehood, we would spank the biggest ass among us and twerk before the mirror in the boarding school where we spent almost all our teenage days.
"So, who is this man you speak of?" I asked as we reached a Melina tree in the heart of the garden. "Is he one of your usual birds, or a serious fish?"
She smiled and turned to me, denying me the view of her odd valuable asset which men come for when they set eyes on her from behind.
"Well, I didn't go to Paris like I said." She professed with a sigh. "I was invited to Nigeria by an online boyfriend of mine. He is so nice and serious, and he likes what I had been jiggling all the while to get you jealous."
Really? My brows went up in awe. Why would she purposely jiggle her ass to get me jealous? That's far from sensible, but that was her being the Julia I knew from teenagehood till now. Still being another crazy creature.
"You don't mean it," I reached out to her and spanked her ass. She jiggled it once more and laughed. "Is this what I should be jealous of, Julia?"
She laughed and turned over once again. "Why not? Yours is curvy but not as big as mine. It can't clap."
"And it both adds nothing to who we are and what we dream to become…"
"Because yours isn't big enough, Sita." She snapped. "You know what, when you come to Nigeria, you will be ashamed of nearly being petite."
I scuffed. Nigeria is our big neighbor with so much influence on us, and the rest of Africa, because we look up to them in a series of things, but our cultures are still not the same. While they put value on a big behind, some of us over here are better slim than thick.
"Come on, you don't body shame me in my own country," I said as though she, too, was Nigerian.
"Our country, Sita," she closed in on me, "Not your country."
"But you have decided to go the way of the other big brother," I said in response.
She smiled and turned to a bush of roses in a corner of the garden. She spent a lot of money in making the garden a paradise. It was never like this from the onset.
"Look what we have there." She pointed at the bush of roses. "Pretty and red like blood. My man is the rose itself, while I am the thorns, waiting to pierce fingers on the mission to snap life out of my rose."
I looked her in the face, but she wasn't looking at me. She was rather focused on the rose bush. The so-called thorns and the rose.
"I have had a really hard time getting the man I love, but I realized such men don't exist here because our men lack the gut to put a woman in her place and treat her like a precious jewel, rough handle her in bed and make her scream his name even in her dream." She smiled a weak smile. "When I realized this, I decided to look for the strong breed. The breed that had it all, and that was how I bumped into that Nigerian."
Very interesting. I wanted to clap, but she wasn't done with her little bidding of speaking of men and the value of big ass that jiggles.
"When last were you curdled, Sita?" she turned to me. "When last were you pinned to the wall, spanked in the ass, and asked to scream a man's name. when last did you have a deep kiss, when last did a man profess his love for you?"
I remembered the other night. it was me and the white doctor. We got ourselves drunk. We danced, I rocked him, I hugged him tight, and we kissed, he didn't reciprocate much because he didn't seem moved by lustful exercise, but inserted his member in me and spilled his seeds in my pantie after the one-night stand, we had at the long walkway.
"Sita, you don't need all these philanthropy and politics jamborees." She continued. "What you need now at your current age is a man. A man who would make you feel like a woman. Not the one you will fuck and let go, but the one you will wish would remain at your side forever and ever."
I clapped, just to make her realize everything she said now was not a bit important. She was just blabbing about men, and feeling like a woman. To a man, that's all unnecessary on the outside, but on the inside, I felt she was right, I was old enough to have a man I call mine.
"Stop being shameless, Sita." She snapped. "You probably came here with your bags to spend the day, or the rest of the week here, because you didn't have a man to keep you company."
She closed in on me so I would hear her well. "My place is not for singletons like you, Sita."
Her smile was a wicked one. She wasn't fair at all, and she wasn't willing to consider being fair for any damn reason, not even for the fact that I was her friend, a close one at that.
"You either go home and hug your pillow, or go to work and mind your business, or you go seek out your own man, as for my wonderful mansion, it is for me and my man. We make love at every corner of this mansion, even in this garden, and one thing we won't like is to have you lean by the wall and wank while we do the job, so, get back to your car, and go home."
Those were the last lines of her words, and in the next minute, I was gone from her place like a demon cast off and set in the wilderness, a place of nothingness.