But for the avoidable breakup, Dr. Bidemi and I should have been married by now. In fact, by our jointly drawn itinerary, our wedding should have taken place by the last week of March. Sadly, all the plans, all the dreams have gone down the drain. The journey of my life has been altered. Dr. Bidemi will be taking another woman to the altar in the next couple of weeks. All thanks to my indiscretion and obsession with sex without sense.
Bidemi or Dr. B, as he is fondly called, met me at JBK Clinic, Arepo Ogun State, where I work as a nurse. I was barely two years old when he joined the clinic as a medical officer. For us, it was love at first sight.
On resumption, both of us were on the night duty roaster. Meaning that I had to work with the new doctor, helping him through the maze of our aging facilities and finicky procedures. Much later in the night, we checked on all the patients in the ward and retired to his consulting room for continuation of familiarisation talks. I led the conversation about the clinic’s protocols. Rather than listen, he stared at me, gazing straight into my thighs which were largely uncovered in my skimpy white uniform. His sexy glimpses gave me goose pimples, hardening nipples, and pulsating pussy. I became uncomfortable. ” Nurse Titi, you’re very beautiful ” he stuttered. He held my hands and hugged me tightly, kissing my neck, ears, and finally my lips. He smelt natural and nice. The strength of his fragrance got me wet instantly.
While holding me glued to his warm frame, I felt the breath of his crotch, brushing my navel, thus causing more wetness in my pants. I wanted to dip my hands in his trousers and massage his restless dick.
Somehow, I cautioned myself. But he threw caution to the winds, dived into my bra, and foraged my rippling nipples. He lay me on the examination couch as if I was his patient. I breathed heavily, mouth agape and legs apart in acquiescence. He rolled up my uniform and drew down my pants. I just mustered the last strength left in me and jumped down the couch, hugged him, and hurried out of his office. Back at my counter, I reminisced on the erotic drama that just played out in the consulting room.
I had no regrets. It was not unnatural to have opened at the first click. After all, I didn’t let it happen, though we both wanted it. Posh, proper and profound, Dr. B arrested my attention with elegance and sustained it with patience, passion, and appreciation. That was how we began as a celebrated ‘couple’ known to all in the clinic.
Four years into our relationship, he moved to a Specialist Hospital in Victoria Island, Lagos. I visited every weekend except when we had emergencies. We started our wedding plans.
The accommodation was the first challenge. He wanted a new apartment on the Island. It took us almost eight months before he could rent and furnish his terrace flat to the desired taste.
However, before I met Dr. B, I had a relationship with Francis, my old classmate in the School of Nursing. Soon after our graduation, Francis abandoned nursing for buying and selling. He was doing pretty well. But we broke up when I became serious with Dr. B. Since we didn’t have a bitter separation, we remained friends, exchanging telephone banters and social media engagements.
Nevertheless, the more I got closer to Dr. B, the more I missed Francis. Especially in the area of love-making. He had the strength of a horse, unlike Dr. B who could hardly run for three minutes before pouring. While my fiance’s dick is just normal, Francis is endowed with a huge cock that hit my pussy like a jackhammer. I must confess here that I had gone to Francis several times for sexual satisfaction.
At a stage, I resolved to put a stop to all erotic fantasies about Francis and concentrated on improving my sexual life with Dr. B. I opened up to him that he wasn’t giving it to me the way I wanted. He has a fantastic start but a disappointing finish. We both resolved to smoothen the rough edges. I stopped seeing Francis.
Francis, too, moved on until my fixation on big manhood took me back to my vomit. Last December, I had three days off and decided to spend quality time with my fiancé in Victoria Island. Unfortunately, he was on call duty throughout the three days. To make matters worse, he was also preparing for his post-graduate exams. He was shuttling between consulting rooms, emergency wards, and the library. He didn’t have time for me. But I should understand his schedules by now.
The following day, I got a Christmas message from Francis. That was not unusual. Though I had not seen him in nearly two years. Instead of ignoring or replying to his Yuletide greetings, I decided to call him. I was lonely, horny, and needed someone to talk to. Francis worsened my situation by recalling our love-making scenes, teasing me with my ringtones during sex. That was it. A sudden wave of hunger for Francis swept through my body. I lied to my fiancé that I was recalled in the office. I had to leave. He had no objections.
Francis lives in a three-bedroom flat in Magodo Phase One. In spite of his relative success in business, he has been unlucky with women. After I left him, he had two other relationships that didn’t work. He broke up with one on the ground of genotype incompatibility and the other, on religious differences. The latter being a Muslim. He told me that he was currently affianced to another lady, Funke, studying Computer Science in the UK.
Francis gave me a warm reception. As he unlatched the door, he collected my bag and placed it on the table. ” Welcome darling, I have missed you,” he said, kissing my cheeks until his lips met mine. He kept smooching me right on the couch. Then, he undressed me and made love to me in the living room. He pounded me from all angles and I was happy. While I was still resting, trying to regain my breath, he lifted me at once and took me to his bathroom and into a jacuzzi filled with bubbling water.
That was the icing of the cake. He brought a bottle of whiskey in a tray. I gulped three glasses in at go. I became tipsy and drowsy. And I started taking selfies. Some with Francis in the jacuzzi. I uploaded all the pictures to my WhatsApp status! I must have done all these in a drunken stupor. Francis later led me to bed. I slept off.
Meanwhile, Dr. B had been calling to find out if I had reached my destination in Arepo. I couldn’t pick the call because I was in the middle of an action. I also forgot to return his call before I slept off. He had called my parents, my office and my friends. Everyone panicked until they saw my WhatsApp status. Dr. B was devastated. And my parents disappointed.
When I woke up the following morning, my world had crumbled. My fiancé had saved the careless pictures that I posted on my WhatsApp status. And he forwarded the pictures to me with a note. ” Why are you doing this to yourself? I wish you well in your future endeavors. Bye”
He broke up with me. I begged him but he refused totally. Ironically, Francis got married in February when his fiancée returned from the UK. Dr. B plans to wed in two months. And I’m still single, searching, and stranded. What a messy gamble!