For so long, boldly figured girls and women have been looked at with scorn, as though they’d been created by a lesser god, different from the Creator of all. For so long, those of us with curves have received judgements, one way or the other. Most times the curvy ladies have been overlooked for certain capabilities and skills just because they weren’t stick figures…
But it ends!
Being curvy doesn’t mean intellectually handicapped, it doesn’t mean ugly, nor does it mean an inability to live, love and be loved. Chubby people are first human and that comes with all capabilities and emotions that human beings are born with.
ChuBBy is body positive.
ChuBBy is fun.
ChuBBy is standing out and being sassy with your curves.
ChuBBy is living life, being adventurous and loving hard.
ChuBBy is sexy and fiery hot.
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It’s been a long disappearance. However, as it is with long vacations, though this one was anything but, one must return with gifts to share with the people at home.
This is home, no matter how quiet it’s been.
Let’s, in good faith, reboot this fallow home with a little sneek peak from some work in the fallow month.
This first, unedited chapter of a soon to be released project is a sequel to A TYCOON AND CIRCUMSTANCE. Follow this link to find it in any of your favourite ebook stores – linktr.ee/emembassey In as much as the sequel would be a standalone, reading the prequel makes it more interesting.
You will be the first to know when there is a cover reveal. Of course and more sneek peaks.
Idongesit Ekwere, fondly called Idy was on the run.
At 28 years, her life had been a series of bad to terrible decisions and never anything good. However, she had done the worst when she had betrayed her closest friend in this world because of money and jealousy.
She had met Louisa when she newly moved to the city of Uyo from her village. She had been a newbie in town but had been lucky to find work as a junior clerk in the company Louisa worked. Idy had had no home at the time and the little money her poor mother had grudgingly given her was for feeding once a day until she was able to get her first month’s salary.
The hardship she had faced in the first two weeks had been terrible. Idy had been pretending to go home when the office closed but would sneak back into the premises and sleep in the outside storeroom used for discarded old office equipments. In there was a torn couch which served as her bed in those days. The sounds of rats and cockroaches were not new to her and therefore did not scare her. Her highest problem was the mosquitoes and the real possibility of getting caught.
Everything had been going okay until the security man on morning duty had decided to come to work quite early one day. Additionally, he had not remained at his security post, but for some unknown reason had patrolled the premises. It was how he had caught Idy showering in one of the bathroom stalls at the back, reserved for the security men.
It had been the most embarrassing day of her life. The security man had treated her as though she had stolen something, even after listening to her story and the predicament that had warranted her sleeping in the store. He had sniffed, seeming sceptical about her story and maintaining his stance that he would report her to higher authority.
Fortuitously, Louisa had been the first, somewhat, higher authority to arrive the office that morning. She had taken one look at Idy standing nervously in the corner of the security post and asked what the problem was while she signed the time book. The security man had grudgingly reported the issue, saying he wanted to take it up to the manager.
Louisa had said he would not have to do that. She asked Idy to follow her to the office upstairs. With trepidation in her heart, thinking Louisa would be worse than the security man, she followed her. At least, with the security man, she had been close to offering her body to escape the problem she had found herself. It would not be the first time she would be doing that to solve a problem. However, it had been for little things such as food and money for toiletries. A little blow job here and there had solved the problem of hunger for her and her siblings. She had not done more than blow jobs, but she had been willing to offer more to the security man to save her new job. Being paid thirty-five thousand naira a month had been equivalent to millions in her life.
However, before she could open her mouth to say anything, Louisa had turned in concern.
“Are you okay? I hope that man had not tried to manipulate you into doing anything.”
Shock at her kind concern had blocked her throat. Idy had been unable to speak immediately, so she had shook her head first before responding. “No, he did nothing. He just wants to report me to the manager. Please, I don’t want to lose my job. This is the only hope keeping my family and I from being completely destitute.
“I don’t even know how I got this job in the first place. But I am thankful and determined to do my best.”
“And you do your best,” Louisa had commented, nodding.
Idy nodded, appreciating her vote of confidence even though her throat was clogging with tears, some that were already dripping down her face. “I do not have a place to stay. I was hoping on using some of my first month’s salary to get a tiny room. I was simply managing the store for this month,” she sobbed.
“Please, you are not losing your job. I wish you had told your interviewer that you were not stationed in Uyo. They would have arranged something for you instead of sleeping in the store. Is that place even safe?” she had frowned with concern.
Idy fidgeted on the seat, her heart racing as she dared not hope that this day would go in her favour.
Louisa had gone in and spoken to the manager. It was decided that Idy would squat in Louisa’s self-contained apartment for three months until she saved enough money to get her own place. She would never have believed things would turn around for her, and she had Louisa to thank.
She never moved out of Louisa’s house. Rather, she had ended up contributing to the rent and becoming close friends who shared secrets. Paying part of the rent left Idy with a little more money to send home. However, with three siblings and a perpetually sick mother, the money was never enough.
This was the only reason she could come up for having betrayed Louisa the way she had. It was the desperation for more than her pittance salary that had pushed her to do it. Louisa had been her roommate, friend and confidant for over three years and she had flung it over her shoulder for a chance of dating a wealthy boyfriend.
“I cannot believe I actually did that. And for what?” Idy huffed under her breath as the tricycle sped towards the house she had shared with Louisa. The image of her friend, heavily pregnant, in pain and dressed tattered in Inoyo’s prison had her heart breaking all over again.
How could she have sold her soul to the devil for money that had still not been enough to cater for her problems? Sniffing, she wiped tears from her eyes, swallowing hard as she acknowledged that she would deserve any fucked up thing that happened to her from here on out. She would deserve it for selling Louisa out to her enemy. She should have just kept her mouth shut at that party. However, when Kenny had asked her if she had seen Louisa, it had been the perfect opportunity to become something closer to Kenny.
So, she had poured out Louisa’s secrets – that she was the daughter of a late con man who had been rumoured to have been killed by Kenny. She told him that Louisa had gotten close to his crew for the purpose of revenge, even though she had been pretending to be Kenny’s girlfriend with the promise of getting pregnant for him. So, if Louisa was missing at the party with a certain pouch of diamonds which Kenny had said he’d given her to hold, then, it was safe to say she had finally gotten her revenge.
Except, it had been bigger than what Idy could imagine; at the time, she had been unaware she had gotten herself into deep shit. She had known Kenny was a criminal – a local gangster. However, the real owner of those diamonds was the devil whom Kenny worked for and it invariably meant Idy, by spilling Louisa’s secrets, was working for the devil too.
She had gotten her wish, of course. Kenny had agreed to date her for more Louisa secrets. At first, it had felt like a victory when Kenny took her everywhere, gave her money, bought her nice things. But it quickly soured when she saw how weak Kenny was in the presence of Inoyo. When that middle-aged man was around, everybody in Kenny’s crew bowed to his superior authority. Idy could not count the many times she had locked herself in Kenny’s room to avoid seeing Inoyo torturing some poor criminal who owed him.
It took less than two months for her to regret her actions, especially, when Inoyo made it his sole aim to find Louisa and his diamonds. It was then she realised that Kenny could not have killed Louisa’s father. Inoyo had been the murderer and she had handed her friend to him.
The guilt had been unimaginable. It made the pleasure of having money and nice things fade into nothing. Sometimes, Idy tried to justify her actions by putting the blame on Louisa – it was her fault that she could not let go her vendetta. In the three years she had lived with Louisa, the only constant had been her need to avenge her father’s murder. Idy had thought it was a fruitless and senseless venture, especially, as she had not wanted to kill Kenny, the prime suspect.
Louisa had declared that she wasn’t a murderer but had wanted to do something that would hurt Kenny. Stealing the diamonds that belonged to Inoyo had certainly hurt Kenny. Except, where Kenny would have been clueless in finding Louisa or knowing her agenda, Idy had helped him. In her mind, Louisa had been wasting her opportunity of being with Kenny. She should have been getting all the money she could from the gangster instead of some stupid revenge. So, she had helped Kenny and from there it had been easy for him to track her movements simply using her father’s old contacts.
However, nothing could justify her actions. Idy knew she had fucked up bad when Louisa had come to return the diamonds and Inoyo had ended up imprisoning her in the dilapidated building behind Kenny’s mansion. If she had not spilled Louisa’s secrets, they would never have known how to track her.
So, Idy had then decided to save her friend. She had risked discovery to eavesdrop on conversations just to know how to go about freeing Louisa. However, when she heard of a possible plot to kill both Louisa and her baby daddy, the wealthy Tycoon, Casmir Otong, Idy had realised she also had to save herself.
Without thinking, she had copied the key of Louisa’s prison, pressing it on the bathing soap Louisa had used. God, the fact that they had made her be responsible for Louisa’s welfare while imprisoned was the punishment she deserved for contributing to her friend’s trauma. Daily, she was exposed to the consequences of her actions. However, it had also given her a chance to save Louisa.
Taking the bathing soap home, one of the rare times Kenny let her out of the mansion, she had found a key maker who replicated the key. Just that morning, while taking breakfast to Louisa, she had managed to pass the key to her, telling Louisa she would cause a distraction to enable her use the key and run for her life.
Thunder rumbled in the sky as her tricycle finally slowed down and branched into the road that would lead to the house she had shared with Louisa. She hoped Louisa had escaped. She hoped she was okay. She hoped her plan had been enough to safe her friend, even though it would never clear the guilt.
“Please, wait for me to grab my bag,” she pleaded with the tricycle rider who murmured she would have to pay extra.
Idy nodded and fled into the labyrinth that led to their apartment at the back. God, for the few months she had dated Kenny, she had added so much weight. It was as though her body had simply been waiting for her to taste luxury and rich food. In only five months, her former clothes could not fit her hips anymore. It had not been alarming since Kenny had kept her supplied with new clothes. But it was a problem now as she wheezed from the short run to her door. Christ, she had not been chubby like Louisa, in fact she had never tasted chubbiness. Idy had always been slender; however, now, her thighs rubbed against each other, the sound of rubbing jeans in between her thighs echoing loudly as she hurried.
“God help me,” she muttered, flying into the scattered room and scattering it more as she threw clothes into a duffel bag. She needed to leave town this moment because she had gone and done exactly what Louisa had done and gotten into trouble.
Idy had stumbled on the pouch of diamonds while delivering Inoyo’s dry cleaning to his room. The man had eyed her demeaningly, and walked into his bathroom as though she was nothing and would not dare try anything. Unfortunately, she had heard his plan to kill Louisa and her beau by then, Idy had already known she would be running. She would not be a part of murder.
Without thinking, she had grabbed that pouch, ready to run that instant, but she recalled Louisa, pregnant, helpless and imprisoned because of her. Taking the pouch would only cause a ruckus, disrupting her unknown schedule and spoiling her plan to save her friend. So, biting her tongue, she had wriggled her fingers into the pouch, breath held as she listened for footsteps. She had slithered out about seven, tiny diamonds and left the room as quietly as she had come. With how heavy the pouch was, it would take some time to notice that a few of the precious stones were missing.
It would be a matter of time before they found out she was gone. And they would know she had taken the diamonds. But she planned to use that time judiciously. It was why she could not help Louisa more than she had – Idy had needed to save herself too.
Loading up her duffel with some of her toiletries, she had been about to zip up her bag when a shadow, heavier than the gathering clouds of rain outside, darkened her doorway. Oh God, her heart stuttered. It seemed they had found her already.
She started and swivelled with trepidation at the sound of her name, her heart practically lodging in her throat.
Let me know your thoughts and opinions, not just of the sneek peak. but perhaps, of what this blog means to you.
When I wrote Love’s Courage, I tried not to dwell on the abuse itself but on the effects of it and one of the patterns a survivor could use to be confident again.
Of course, there’s no one size fit all for surviving abuse. However, there’s a mantra, a rule I’ve come up with – GIVE YOURSELF A CHANCE.
You cannot be called a survivor without first giving yourself a chance to live. The people that die in domestic abuse, died victims. People say it’s difficult to break out. People recount all the challenges inherent in the decision to break out. I TOTALLY AGREE. IT’S DIFFICULT.
However, let me ask this – what thing in this life is easy? Before you worry about how to take care of the kids, find a job if you didn’t have one, find a house, etc, GIVE YOURSELF A CHANCE to be alive first!
Protect your life. Give yourself the chance to experience all these perceived difficulties instead of giving up and taking the abuse until you die. You’re still no good to your kids, family and friends dead. Death is too final for it to be something someone waits for.
Please, stop taking abuse. It doesn’t make you a martyr. It makes you foolish for allowing a human being like you take away your God given rights. You will not go to heaven or paradise if you die a victim.
Nope, you’re still going to hell because you blatantly refused to use the rights and privileges God gave you as His child. You set a bad example for your children who are experiencing the abuse right along with you. They might not be beaten, but they’re watching – learning the wrong things. You can’t have a seat in heaven if you helped multiply the numbers of abusive men and women in the world.
Give yourself a chance. Make a plan to survive. Use your brain. Nobody’s brain is a prop. It actually works. Lie in a quiet place and think. You’ll see, the moment you make up your mind to survive, the plan will form and things will fall in place for you. The universe is waiting for you to make the choice. 🔻 I write sexy African romance featuring plus size heroines. Explore my books here:- http://linktr.ee/emembassey
It’s been more than a minute. Two whole months rushed by while we clambered about, zooming through life, only doing the daily fixtures. We’ve ignored our self praise and this post is to reinstate that.
Say you’re a queen. Acknowledge your hard work. Praise your strength. Love your spirit. Look back and applaud your growth. You did it, love.
Now, let’s do more. Let’s encourage ourselves daily.
Love and light, ChuBBies!
Don’t be a stranger 😉
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Happy prosperous new year to all of us. May strength, vision and focus be ours this 2022, amen.
That said, enjoy this darling excerpt from a novel that released on the 31st of December, 2021.
Get hooked to your motivations, new year resolutions etc, just like the main characters in this book got hooked in love.
Name: Hooked up
Blurb: It was meant to be a fling. Two strangers, unavoidably attracted to each other, taking the edge off. But these things never go as planned. Tiabasi is left with consequences she’s not prepared for. And Nathan can’t get the enigmatic lady from the garden off his mind.
These two are about to find out that love barges in with no permission. It also stays without consent.
This story can be read as a standalone complete with an HEA. However, to enjoy it more, you can read Rita and Ben’s story – Shots Fired – also available on Bambooks.
This book happened because I actually dreamt of eagerly trying to hook up with Cristiano Ronaldo. Read the book for the dream. One damn door refused to lock in that dream. Jeez, a girl can’t even get her rocks off in an alternate realm.
Anyway, I was going to write this story as quickly as a fling and as exactly as the dream. However, I’ve noticed these days my characters simply need me for the writing, not the telling.
If you hate this book, don’t kill me. I’m just the messenger who thought something light for Christmas would be ideal. There you go.
May something less than up to par turn to the most amazing thing for us.
“Wow, Tee, look at this place,” Rita enthused when we opened the door to the suite we’d been given at the Rosemohr Gold Hotel.
“I know, right,” I enthused right along, our mouths open as we admired the plush suite, decorated in different hues of cream and brown.
The soft lights highlighted the decor, making it relaxing and inviting.
“We must have done something right today,” Rita nodded, turning to smile brightly at me.
I nodded. “We pulled off the wedding of the century – between two royal families!” We both squealed like pigs in shit. I hoped the walls were thick enough to muffle our ecstacy.
“God, when Madam Edith called to tell me she wanted me to meet with the Dowager Queen, goodness, I almost peed my pants.”
“I swear, your mentor is amazing. May God bless that woman for us,” Rita commented, coming to hug me.
I understood what she was feeling. I felt exactly the same way – both disbelieving and pumped with adrenaline. I hugged her right back, sighing out some of my nervous energy.
“But, it’s good to be rich o,” Rita joked in pidgin English.
“I tell you. We were able to pull off all that amazing glitter because money flowed.”
“Please, aunty, it’s also because we know our onions abeg,” Rita was quick to add.
“You’re right, as usual,” I chuckled, finally dropping the overnight bag I’d gone home to hurriedly pack when the Dowager demanded we attend the after party of the wedding.
The woman gave us a whole suite!
I sighed and fell on the firm, comfortable bed. Rita groaned appreciatively beside me when she equally lay facing up.
“For the first time in my entrepreneurial life, I’m grateful we aren’t running this after party.”
“Seriously! I’m so fagged out and ready to sleep. I feel like I’ll have good dreams in this bed.”
Laughing at my partner, I wiped tears of happiness from my eyes. “It’s the room, the decor is calming,” I sniffed, humor tinting my tone. “I seriously feel like sleeping too.”
“Or we’re just plain tired after today. I wish all clients were like this Dowager Queen. See how she insisted we pay off all vendors at the end of the event.”
“It’s really admirable. I want to be like her when I grow up.”
Rita chuckled, “Me too! And she’s kind. She didn’t have to invite us to the after party or give us plush lodgings.”
“Indeed,” I agreed. “Maybe she wants to introduce us to her friends. Rita, I swear, we’ve made it o,” I joked in pidgin English.
“Abeg, we were already made. You know, despite how amazing your mentor is, she would not have reached out if she didn’t believe Ritaz Imaginations could pull this off. This is a promotion – a very huge promotion.”
Nodding to her wise words, I turned my neck, my gaze shifting from the nicely molded ceiling to the beautiful, fair skinned, plus size woman beside me. A mother of two rambunctious, five year old twin boys and an adorable three year old girl.
“Well, I must thank you for giving my crazy idea a chance six years ago. Thank you for taking me on this adventure with you,” I said sincerely.
Rita Inyang rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I was wondering when the gratitude speech would make an appearance,” she shook her head and struggled up from the bed. “Oh God, I wish I could sleep here tonight,” she mockingly wailed. At that moment, she resembled her adorable daughter so much. And Rita, the forty-three year old woman, was simply waving off my gratitude as usual.
“Didn’t you say Mr. Ben was a guest here?”
She nodded and stood with a sigh. “Yes, his elder brothers are friends with the groom. They practically dragged him for this after party,” she chuckled, her eyes going dreamy for a second. It was no secret that Rita and her husband, Ben, were wildly in love.
Goodness, whenever he visited our new permanent office, they left the rest of us breathless with their intensity.
“Well, there are two rooms in this suite. You can sneak Mr. Ben into your room,” I wriggled my eyebrows at her and she burst into laughter.
“T-girl, please, don’t make me laugh so hard, I’m too tired.”
“I’m telling the truth. I’ll remain in my room so I don’t hear anything,” I bit my lower lip suggestively.
“Jesus, you’re so rotten,” she said and we giggled together. Rita sighed heavily. “But, unfortunately, my baby girl is down with malaria. Ben will not hear of spending the night away from his daughter.”
“Aww, I want what you both have created so badly,” I pouted, sitting up while she smiled.
“And you’ll get it.”
“When?! I’m thirty-five and I’ve not had sex in four years! Perhaps, I will shoot my shot at some of the handsome men at this party. One night of sex should make life less gloomy.”
“Uh, that went from one to a hundred pretty quickly,” Rita commented humorously. “And, I believe it’s called hook up these days,” she raised an eyebrow at me.
“I don’t care what it’s called. What would complete the perfectness of this day would be me under a man who knows how to handle a plus size woman.”
Rita chuckled. “You’re not asking for much, are you?”
“I’m simply stealing a page from your jotter, madam. Maybe, I might just get my own Mr. Ben tonight.”
“It’s not a bad dream to have,” she smiled at me. “In fact, I’m wishing this dream comes true for you,” she said as she pulled off the finely tailored, Navy blue slacks worn under a matching peplum top with a red corsage and red ballerinas- our choice of uniform while we managed this event. I still had mine on. We had to look good while remaining smart during events.
However, Rita’s comment about my dream coming true immediately reminded me of the strange dream I had last night. I gasped.
“What? My arse is not that big,” she said indignantly, eyeing me with mock fury over her shoulder.
Chuckling helplessly, I shook my head and hand at her. “No, not that. Although, your arse is that big. But that’s not what made me gasp.”
“Then what?” She asked, marching to the bathroom in only panties and bra, uncaring of my presence and quite comfortable in her skin.
“I recalled a strange dream I had last night. I was at an event and then I recognized Cristiano Ronaldo. We ended up hooking up in the bathroom…well, we almost hooked up. I recalled I was worried about locking the doors, but then one door wouldn’t lock and then it all got confusing after that.”
I’d been so lost in recalling that dream, my eyes staring down the light brown tiles and didn’t realize Rita sat beside me. I jerked when her cold hand touched my temple, as though checking for my temperature.
“When was the last time you treated typhoid? That’s the illness that usually comes with hallucinations,” she said candidly.
Laughing, I playfully shoved her hand from my face. “It’s a dream, anything is possible.”
“So, Cristiano Ronaldo – the football god?” Rita looked skeptical about my health.
“Urrg, I should not have told you,” I wailed while hurrying off to the second room. “I’m going to shower and change.”
“You do that, Mrs. CR7!” she called after me and I groaned under my breath. I know Rita will tease me with this for a long time.
Feeling chic in my knee-length, shimmery silver dress, I still fumed that I had to wear heels for this event. Rita felt the same way too. However, after pulling off a fantastic royal wedding, we dared not appear like peasants in an intimate event filled with the creme de la creme of society.
Rita and I were soulmates when it came to wearing relaxing clothes. It made me miss our early days in the business when we mostly concentrated on event decorations. Now that we’ve grown, it meant rubbing shoulders with high society and we couldn’t be caught un-fresh.
Melanin and proud, my silver slings added four inches to my 5’6 height. My muted blond, chin-length wig tenderly cupped my angular face. The off shoulder of my dress bared my neck and considerable cleavage which I was proud of. The stretch of the silver material hugged my figure dreamily. I knew my arse, like Rita’s, was killer – we’d both admired ourselves in the suite.
Rita still preferred her naturally long hair, one she wore down tonight. Her tube, black dress also hugged her figure, emphasizing her fairness. Where her makeup was light, I had on bold red lips and silver eyeliner added to my face beat. Jokes apart, I was out to snag me a man tonight. Not necessarily for the purpose of forever, but to feel wanted – attractive. It had been too long.
That dream had triggered a deep seated longing in me that I’d been ignoring. My dream football god had slung an arm over my shoulder, his fingers brushing my nipple and instantly hardening it. Recalling it had my body flushing with warmth. Goodness, I’d been celibate enough. This girl needed to be fucked several ways to Sunday.
After making the rounds of the glittering crowd, being nice to people we recognized and people we didn’t, Ben stole his wife away and I was left to be a wallflower in the corner. The conversations I could overhear were of government, elections, charities and community development projects. I was bored out of my head an hour into the event.
The handsome men I’d eyed were mostly married, or dedicated to licking the arses of prominent people. I’d seen Ben’s brothers, they were as handsome as Ben. The eldest looked like a giant barrel, handsome but mean looking and married. The second seemed playful but aloof to all that was happening – his friends too. I heard he was a successful footballer. And with how equally fit his friends looked in their tuxes, I assumed they were footballers too.
That group seemed a bit too unreachable for me. Their aloofness indicated a hint of arrogance. I simply respect myself as I didn’t want anyone insulting me for trying to flirt.
But wait a minute – did this mean no single guy in this dratted party found me attractive? The thought was debilitating. Heart gloomy, I dropped my empty wine flute and walked the edge of the gathering till I pushed through the side exit into a dimly lit verandah.
Inhaling the cool night air, I wished for this party to end. If my wish for a one night stand wasn’t coming to reality, at least, let me utilize my suite. With how tired I was, I could sleep for a week.
Another deep breath had me admiring the garden beyond the verandah, dimly lit with fancy, colorful lights. The calm of the flowers at dusk beckoned to me. Additionally, the plush looking grass seemed like what would solve the severe pinch of my shoes. Looking left and right to make sure I was alone, I lifted my right foot, hooked my finger and pulled off the strap.
I did the same with the left and hurried down the short flight of stairs, giggling under my breath at my shenanigans. I sighed heavily when my feet sunk into the slightly damp grass. My toes luxuriated in the soft soil as I marched into the well manicured garden.
This place seemed like a mini-wonderland. All my stress evaporated as I followed the narrow path made by rows of flowers on both sides, my shoes dangling from my fingers. The cool breeze ruffled my wig, brushing tenderly on my face, neck and arms. The scent of the flowers perfumed the air, making me close my eyes as I inhaled, still walking.
For a second, I was transported to a version of paradise, until I walked right into a wall. Well, it didn’t hurt, so it must not have been a literal wall. When my eyes flashed open, I was facing a white shirt stretched over a broad chest, loosened tie dangling down and opened flaps of a tux.
“Oh,” was all I could say for a few seconds. As the owner of the barrel chest wasn’t saying anything, I worried about stepping back and meeting his gaze. This little accident was obviously my fault. I shouldn’t have shut my eyes while walking on a narrow path.
He huffed, shifted away, turning to the left to pick up his phone lying helplessly under a flower bed. The low light reflected on his face and had me gasping – pretty loudly.
I groaned when the careless lady gasped. It could have been a trumpet sound with how loud it sounded in that quiet garden.
Skipping out of the after party to this hidden garden for peace became the best part of this day. It was the first time I was breathing freely after persevering through the wedding. Someone else had snagged my girl. We’d been friends from childhood, dated a bit but I’d messed up, cheated on her and she refused to give me a chance after that.
Losing her as my girl had taught me hard lessons. It was the reason I hated groupies. As a fifteen year professional basketballer, recently retired, I’d had a lot of groupies at my disposal – still did. Additionally, it was unfortunate that I shared some sort of look alike with a great footballer, it made having a private time difficult.
It had been minimal in the US where I’d had my basketball career. People had not cared so much. But when I’d relocated to my hometown to start a string of businesses I was interested in, I never had peace. People were crazy about football here and so instantly spotted the resemblance.
My girl had caught me in a compromising position with a damn, sexy groupie out to seduce. I’d tried resisting her. But, who knew she’d had her friend videoing the moment. Even though the club’s techie had caught it almost immediately and wiped it off the internet. It had made no difference, my girl had seen it already.
It had taken months of begging before she even agreed to speak to me again. However, no amount of groveling had changed her mind about continuing the relationship. God, it had been my first weakness and it had destroyed me. Seven years of playing, I’d avoided groupies. The one time I’m weak, and everything goes to shit.
Nancy, my sweetheart, asked that we remain friends. I readily agreed. Even when she returned to our hometown, I called and chatted everyday, hoping I’d make a dent in her heart for me. I held on to that hope even when she told me she’d met someone.
Well, that someone had married her today. There was no denying the envy in my heart at how perfect they looked together – a princess and a prince – literally. I did not come from royalty, but I would have been a prince to her. I would have treated her like my queen.
So, one can imagine how difficult this whole event has been for me. My friends were kind enough not to make jokes or snide remarks. Max, our mutual friend from way back, had been supportive. We all just pretended that I was happy for my childhood sweetheart. When in reality, I hated myself for falling for that groupie.
Deep down too, I also miffed Nancy for not forgiving me or giving us a chance again.
Now, there was this lady who’d walked smack into me. I waited for an apology and got none – seeing as she was the one walking with her eyes closed. Whatever that was about. But I didn’t need added stress. So, I bent to pick up my phone which had fallen in the accident, holding my breath that she wasn’t a football fan.
However, that loud gasp dashed my hopes – this was another possible groupie. Avoiding the numerous comments on my resemblance to C.Ronaldo had been my motivation to escape to this garden. It’s the only damn thing I’ve been hearing all day.
Angrily, I straightened and pinned her with all of my fury. “Yes, go ahead and say it. I look like the damn footballer, Cristiano Ronaldo! Can we move along now?” I snapped.
She – a luscious piece of absolute beauty – stumbled back at my lashing. Goodness, my eyes unconsciously bulged when I took her in, fully. Perhaps, I’d been hasty to snap at her. She was curvy all over and knew how to emphasize it. The way her dress skimmed over her bountiful boobs and generous hips dried mouth. Her startled eyes made her stunning – those red lips!
Damn, mama! This was the first woman to make me sit up and take notice. I’d been sulking for years and suddenly, bam, I wanted to fuck.
A growl rumbled in my throat at how primitive my thoughts had turned in a blink of an eye. Jesus. I couldn’t say I was drunk. But I felt high staring at her.
“Umm, I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking.” She blinked lovely eyes at me and my knees weakened. Okay, she was certainly a witch to have this instant effect on me.
“And, for what it’s worth, it’s only your side view that looks like – the damn footballer.”
And she had a sense of humor? My heart pranced around its cage. I took a deep breath, cleared my throat and managed a calm smile. “Is that so?” My deep voice came out smooth, sexy and ready to seduce.
I swear, I did not do that on purpose. Why would I want to seduce this unknown lady? For all it’s worth, she might be married.
She gasped at my tone and I wanted to do more. Her left hand landed on her mouth watering cleavage and I sighed in relief – no ring in sight.
Nodding, she continued. “You certainly speak better English.”
She said it so softly it took a while for what she said to register in my brain. It wrenched an unconscious chuckle from me.
“You’re taller – way taller than him. You’re darker and don’t have the mohawk haircut. You have thicker eyebrows, beard, thicker muscle mass, thicker lips -” her voice went husky at this and she had to clear her throat and look away from my face.
I instantly missed her eyes on me. There was no hiding her admiration for me. Did she see my admiration for her? I suddenly didn’t want to go back home anymore. I’d been headed to my car, chatting up Max, my closest friend, to let him know I was gone. Now, I simply wanted more time with this goddess.
“Walk with me,” I said suddenly. Her eyes snapped up to hold mine. “Please,” I quickly added.
She frowned. “I thought you were leaving,” she pointed her left thumb over her shoulder towards the entrance of the garden.
“Not anymore. Come, there’s somewhere we can sit for a moment,” I prodded. Jeez, Nathan, you sound like the devil luring a naive victim.
Her thick, red lips detached as she inhaled. Her cleavage tightened against the low neck of her dress. And my body seized up, dick going from semi to hard in a breath – literally.
“Why? You just snapped, quite angrily, at me a few seconds ago,” she asked, her long fingers, tipped with red, manicured nails, flicking her short hair from her face. It revealed her raised brow.
I looked into her eyes while answering. “I like anyone who clearly states that I don’t look like the damn footballer.”
Her sexy lips twisted for a second, until she couldn’t hold her mirth. Her laugh tinted the night’s air, mingling with the scent of flowers. Man, was I a poet now?
I just liked her laugh. It was deep and unpretentious. Free and fresh.
“Alright, I’ll bite,” she said. And I had to take deep breaths to counter the heat hurtling to my dick as she spoke of biting. I instantly imagined her teeth sinking into my shoulder while I pushed her down, her wet sheath sucking in my hard cock. Goodness, the woman was a temptress and unconsciously too.
She walked beside me as I led us back to where I’d been sitting before deciding I needed to get home. It was a dried up fountain. The concrete built around it made a comfortable seat in the small, grassy clearing surrounded by flower beds.
“This is nice,” she breathed as she sat down, arranging her shoes and purse beside her. I admired her equally manicured toe nails with the same red. Then I got curious as to why she wasn’t wearing her shoes.
“I’m Nathan,” I said, leaning my tailbone on the concrete instead of pulling myself up to sit, like she’d done.
She flicked her hair again and turned to me on her left, her lovely scent whispering under my nose. “I’m Tiabasi. People just call me Tee, though,” she shrugged.
“Hmm, nice name – remember God.” Her eyebrow rose when I interpreted her name. “Even though I spent years in the US, my parents wouldn’t let me forget my heritage. So, I know the meaning of your name,” I grinned at her. I have no idea why I offered the fact that I’d been in the states. Usually, I tried to hide that fact a lot.
The ladies, both single and married, go crazy when they find a bachelor just back from the states. Single ladies wanted me, the married ones wanted me for their female relatives. Thank God, my accent wasn’t too obvious. So, I went mostly undisturbed, well, except the resemblance thing.
“You sound so proud. I feel I should rustle up a medal for you,” she said softly, her eyes shining with mild sarcasm.
The laughter began in the pit of my stomach and splashed into the night loudly. God, she was funny. She chuckled quietly beside me and when I turned, she was staring at me intently. There was no denying the attraction. The space between us hummed like a naked wire charging with electricity.
“Good one, Tee. So, why aren’t you enjoying the party?”
That eyebrow raised again. It was another sexy feature of her. “Who said I wasn’t enjoying the party?”
“You’re here in this dark garden, where it could be dangerous for a lovely damsel such as yourself.”
She sighed deeply, looking into the trees. “I know karate. I can take care of myself. How about you?” She vollies the ball right back at me.
Chuckling at her badass attitude, I folded my arms over my chest. My peripheral vision caught how she bit her lower lip, staring at my arms. “Well, I assumed you came here because, like me, you weren’t enjoying the party. I’m hiding from heartbreak.”
Tee’s gaze rose to my face, giving me a speculative look. Once again, I cannot say what made me blurt that out. To cover up, I shoved the ball in her court again. “So, who or what are you running from?”
“What – why do you think I’m running?” She chuckled, eyes on mine.
“Your discarded shoes?” I held her gaze, the tension heightening.
She swallowed and chuckled dryly. “The shoes were tight. Plus -” she pinned me with a look, like she was contemplating whether to share something. She swallowed again.
“Plus?” I prodded softly, not making sudden moves even though my pulse was racing.
“I was out looking for a one night fling,” she choked and took a deep breath, invariably stealing mine, right from my lungs.
There was no controlling the sharp raise of my brows and widened eyes. That was absolutely unexpected. I took a deep breath to calm clamoring nerves. I needed to get control of myself. “Did you find it?” I asked, tone raspy.
She shook her head. “No,” she whispered, her eyes dropping to my lips and her tongue swiped over her lower lip.
Silence engulfed us for a few seconds. “So, if I kiss you now, what will you do?”
Her cleavage tightened against the neck of her dress as she inhaled deeply. “I’ll lean in closer and deepen it,” she replied in a husky voice.
My heart started thumping harder. “What if I grabbed your -” my gaze dropped to her considerable bosom, then flicked back to her face. “- boobs?” My mouth watered at the notion, hands tingling to grab the luscious bulbs.
“I’ll probably moan and grab your arse.”
Fuck, I thought. My cock strained against my fly. Without meaning to, I’d moved. Tee unhesitatingly spread her knees and I now stood in between her legs, my hands bracketing her thighs on that concrete.
“And if my fingers slide into your panties?” I whispered, barely breathing, my eyes holding hers.
She swallowed, holding my gaze. “I’ll unzip your fly and reach for your dick.”
That ripped a growl from my throat. I moved closer, suddenly in the vicinity of her scent. “Please, can I be your fling tonight?”
Once upon a time, two monarchs from different kingdoms decided to switch their adult daughters with the hope of curbing their inherent character flaws.
Nkoyo, princess of Efik Kingdom, is impetuously problematic, spoilt, and unruly. Wofai, princess of Atam Kingdom, feels easily threatened and has temper issues. So, she screams as a way of expressing her anger.
Will this ridiculous plan save two princesses from themselves?
Hi, ChuBBies! We got to the end of the year in one piece. Yippee…and Christmas is rolling in. Well, celebrations don’t mean we’re out of the hood in terms of life, but it gives hope of better futures.
The image above is food for thought in this new month and end of the year. We must start gearing up for the new year. We must start keeping positive mindsets for the new chance at living happily. So, here goes:
There will always be those human beings who insist on recalling – in public – how fat you used to be. They’d reminisce even, on how beautiful your skin used to be when you were fat. They might even tell you that you must have chosen a wrong slimming regiment and that now you simply look old.
Goodness, the struggles are numerous. Which brings us down to why you’re loosing weight or if you aren’t… 📍Do it for yourself – loose your weight because you want to, not because someone teased you or is forcing you, or because it’s for a man! And make sure you do it at a pace you’re comfortable with. 📍Before anything, polish your self-confidence and wear it as a crown – Whether you’re plus size or have lost weight, your self-confidence gets you into places. 📍Know your value ladies! – Plus Size or not, when you know the worth of what you bring to the table, no one will consider appearances any longer. 📍Seek alternative means – If you come in contact with a person mean enough to reject your amazing worth simply because you’re Plus Size, please, walk out with your head high and seek alternative direction. Most times, what we dream and seek never comes in the manner we’ve envisaged it. But it comes. 📍Have faith – Sister, you have to believe the universe works for your good. Sometimes, it might be slow, but steadily, the universe rotates until you win. 📍Be patient – We need this virtue a whole lot! With patience, we understand that things take a process and processes can take time. But it’s all worth it at the end.
It is not your weight that matters. It is your person.
Love and light to us. 😘😘
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Hey, ChuBBies. We are almost to the end of the year. It’s beautiful to know we held on. And may we keep doing so.
Today’s caption is a message of encouragement and a bit of announcement. If you thought no one liked you because of your body, then you’re totally wrong. Read the story below.
A handsome man messaged the page and confessed his preference for plus size women. However, the few he had encountered and liked, blatantly, disbelieved his motives. One of his experiences struck a nerve –
He met a plus size lady on the bus. He admired her instantly and by the end of the journey had gotten her number. He courted her for months on the phone as they lived in different cities. Finally, they met and did the deed.
According to him, it was a glorious weekend. Said lady was in tears at his finesse. She said nobody had made love to her body the way he had. Except, when she left, her number ceased going through. And when he visited the address she’d given him, he was told she’d moved.
After worrying for weeks that she might have been hurt or worse, he was left confused as to why she purposely ghosted him. He could not explain the phenomenon, especially, as he’d had a strong connection with the lady. They had burned up the sheets, he’d said. His mind had been occupied with thoughts of her. He had to take excuse from work to travel to her town, just to make sure she was okay. However, she had invested energy in avoiding him. The man said he was still hurting.
There are so many variables here of what could have made said lady to run off. However, we cannot deny that most plus size people live defensively. I used to be like that, so I would know.
I’d suspect anyone who paid me a complement. I’d view the men romantically interested in me as scavengers. If I liked you enough to date, I was quick to break up in mere months (I’m talking two, three months, tops). It was a position of power and protection. Breaking up meant hurting the man first before giving him a chance to hurt me.
So, yes, I know what it means to live defensively. But not everyone is the enemy. And even if they were, having confidence in the fact that you’re beautiful and can be loved, allows you to decipher the grains from the chaff. It allows you look and observe calmly without the anxiety of doubts.
If you believe you’re beautiful and deserving of love, of course, you will not immediately doubt any complement or comment to that effect. It doesn’t even matter if the complement is genuine. Answering such complements with a confident – “I know, thank you”, – adds to your attractiveness. Make sure not to sound pompous. A nice smile makes it confident.
Therefore, dear plus size woman, realise that you’re appreciated, loved and adored.🥰
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