I live alone. It’s one of the things I love most about my life, my space, my silence, my freedom. My mum hardly visits, and even when she does, she always calls first. She thinks her daughter is a calm, responsible working-class girl just trying to survive Lagos. But if she knew half the things I do when I close my door, I doubt she’d call me her daughter again.

That Saturday, I was in one of those moods. You know that feeling when your body is hot, restless, and aching for something you can’t scratch away? I was horny. Badly. I didn’t plan for anything to happen; I didn’t even have anyone in mind.

Then Tobi texted.

He wasn’t my boyfriend. Just a fine guy I’d known for a while. Cool, funny, a bit of a flirt. We’d never done anything before, but we had chemistry. I told him to come over. The house was quiet. I was in oversized shorts and a tank top, bare-faced and barefoot.

When he arrived, we sat in my living room talking about random things: music, relationships. I laughed more than I should have. I kept looking at his lips without realising it. And the way he looked at me, like he was undressing me with his eyes, didn’t help either.

At one point, I got up to get water, and he followed me to the kitchen. I turned around, and we were suddenly too close.

The air changed.

I don’t know what came over me, but I leaned in and kissed him. He didn’t hesitate. He kissed me back like he’d been waiting for that moment. His hands moved to my waist, pulling me in, and his tongue slid into my mouth.

Everything became urgent.

I led him to my bedroom without saying a word. Clothes dropped one by one: his shirt, my shorts, my top. I didn’t even care where they landed. I just wanted him. I lay back on the bed, and he climbed on top of me, kissing me like he meant it. His fingers explored every part of me, slow and firm, like he was learning my body.

Then he entered me.

And he felt so good.

I gasped as he started to move, slow at first, teasing. Then deeper. Harder. He held my hips and rocked into me, his lips on my neck, whispering my name. I wasn’t even trying to hold back. I moaned freely, biting my lip, gripping his back. The bed creaked, my legs shook, and my body melted into his.

I didn’t know Tobi had it in him. He touched places I didn’t know were touchable. I kept moaning, begging him not to stop.

Then I heard my name.

“Ifeoluwa”

It was faint. Like it came from far away. My body froze, but he was still moving inside me. Then I heard it again, louder this time.

“Ifeoluwa!”

That voice. I knew that voice.

My eyes shot open. I turned my head toward the door, and there she was.

My mother.

Standing in the doorway. Staring at me. At us. Her mouth hung open slightly, like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Tobi was still in me. We were both naked. I could feel his heartbeat against mine.

I couldn’t speak. My mouth opened, but no words came out. Shame crawled all over my skin.

My mum said nothing. She just blinked slowly, shut the door quietly, and left.

Tobi slowly pulled out of me, both of us still breathing hard. The room that had just been filled with moans and heat was now silent, awkward, exposed, too bright.

“I think I should go,” he said.

I nodded. I couldn’t even look at him.

After he left, I reached for the blanket, covering myself, eyes still fixed on the door like it might swing open again.

My mum has never caught me in that vulnerable position, but it is what it is.

The awkward talk with my mum came much later that night. I won’t lie, it was uncomfortable. She was hurt, disappointed, maybe even betrayed, because that was the real me. Not the perfect daughter.

+ posts