The Body-Guard

Kumasi, 2009.

The Pastor walked in first. A fine gentleman that exuded all the confidence in the world. His entourage followed. A tall man appeared at the back dragging suitcases with him as he strode in with calculated steps. He was the Pastor's bodyguard. Vicky's gaze went past the pastor and settled on the tall man. She was awed. He was really muscular and stood at nearly 6'3. He had a handsome face and when his eyes swept the hotel lobby, they rested on Vicky's face. They stared at each other for a few seconds... he winked and looked away.

Later that night, everyone settled in. Vicky's shift as room attendant should have been over hours ago but due to her hardworking nature, the hotel manager had asked her to stay and see to the guests. Truthfully, she had been asked to stay because she was really beautiful and guests loved to see her around. She was the eye candy of the hotel. The pastors were on the topmost floor in the east wing suite. The bodyguard was given a room on the floor directly under the topmost. Room 107. Vicky was given a room too so she could be close by when the esteemed guests needed assistance. She settled in the room opposite the bodyguard's. The events that would follow later in Vicky's room, 106, were a sight to behold. 

This is how Vicky tells the story:

The bodyguard grabbed my ass before his lips met mine. They crushed mine and I felt his tongue shoot deep into my mouth, searching for my tongue. I entangled my tongue with his and we began a friendly war.

A bit earlier, I had showered and changed into a sheer robe and settled in bed. That was when I heard it. A shuffling noise and sounds of frustrations from outside my room. I got out of bed to check in on the situation and found Mr Bodyguard fidgeting with his door. He couldn't open it. He smiled when he saw me and threw his arms open in despair. I sauntered over to help him. We both reached out for the door knob at the same time and our hands touched. Believe me when I tell you, I felt weak in my legs. I don't know how we got to my room, but soon we were kissing passionately and fumbling into my room. Not bothering to close the door completely, we found ourselves at the foot of the bed.

My body responded to his every touch. My nipples hardened as he continued to knead the flesh of my round ass. He drew circles on the under-parts of my ass. I trembled. The bodyguard flung me onto the bed and proceeded to kiss my neck. My weakness. I got wetter. I ran my hand down his back and onto his ass. I grabbed them as he had done mine early on. He shivered and that made me happy. My strong bodyguard slid his body down mine a bit and next, my bra was coming off. A hard nipple was met with rough hands. He twisted and pulled. His mouth covered my other nipple and I felt him suck on it like a baby. At this point, I wanted my panties taken off. My clitoris needed attention and this man was going to administer it. But I allowed him to take it as slowly as he wanted.

I felt his kisses on my tummy and his tongue playing around my navel. Being a trained security person must come with multitasking. One hand covered my right boob, lips kissed and drew circles on my tummy, and then another hand got into my panties. My body didn't know which touch to respond to. He played with my pussy lips for a while, ignoring my clitoris. He ran his finger down the length of my pussy, dragging juice from bottom to top. Soon, my robe was coming off. I felt his teeth grab the hem of my panties and drag it down. I reached down in an attempt to help slide the panties over my ass. They came off smoothly. The bodyguard set to work flicking his tongue all over my juicy slit, travelling over my pussy lips, dipping into my hole. He pumped his tongue in and out of me while rubbing my clitoris with his thumb and forefinger. I had had sex. I had had lots of sex but I hadn't ever reached the height of ecstasy that I was at this moment.

"Lick my clitoris, make me cum," I found myself encouraging him. Trained to take instructions, the bodyguard centred his tongue on my clitoris and pushed and rubbed it until I shook, convulsed, and squealed as my first orgasm crashed through my system.

I lay there for a full minute while he lapped up the juices that ran from my pussy. I reached down and ran my fingers through his hair. I sighed in great satisfaction as he cleaned me up with his talented tongue. He licked my pussy so clean I felt the stirrings of arousal again. But I figured I was being selfish. I needed to give him attention too.

I slowly pushed his head up and away from my pussy and when he looked up, I winked at him. He smiled at me. I pushed my body down and sat on the edge of the bed. My little hands found his belt and started unhooking it. Soon I was freeing a semi erect dick from its confines. It looked happy to see me, the way it sprung up when I pulled down the boxer shorts. I said hello to it and kissed the tip. It jumped up at the touch. I was in awe. I wrapped my hands around the happy object of enjoyment and felt I still had more dick flesh exposed. I opened my mouth and took him in. He moaned a little and I felt encouraged. I settled in to work. With one hand pulling the shaft up and down, I sucked on the head of his dick like my life depended on it. It tasted like everything I had imagined in our short gaze fest early on when the entourage arrived. He moaned every now and then as I continued pumping and sucking. I pushed him onto the bed so he could lie down while I sucked his hard dick. I lowered my head and took him all in. I gagged but the bad bitch in me continued sucking. I grabbed his balls and massaged them. My other hand went to his butthole and played around it. He grew bigger in my mouth. It was his turn to run his hands through my hair. I felt myself getting wet. I pushed a finger up his butt and felt his balls begin to tighten. I knew the end was near for him. 

I stopped sucking.

He looked at me in disbelief.

I crawled up on him and crushed his lips with mine. We kissed slowly at first, and then the hunger intensified. I raised my hips and positioned my pussy on top of his very erect dick. First, I teased. I hovered on it, allowing only the tip to brush or poke my pussy... whatever. That drove him crazy. He lifted his hips to meet mine. I lifted mine up to get away from him. I wanted to tease him for a while. He reached out to grab my boobs. I let him. He fondled them and twirled the nipples with his fingers. I felt weak.

I sank down, pussy deep onto his hard dick. 

We both moaned when every inch of his big black dick disappeared into my pussy and my butt cheeks were resting on him. 

I began to ride. Up and down I went. I banged him quickly. Then I slowed down because I was getting tired. I raised my hips till his dick stuck out of my pussy, and then I went down on him again. I repeated this for a while, then...

We heard his name mentioned outside and a knock on his door followed. 

I don't know what came over me but I opened my mouth to respond that he wasn't in his room. At that very moment, the bodyguard lifted his head and took my lips into his mouth. He kissed me deeply and whispered against my lips that I shouldn't say a word. He grabbed my ass and now started fucking me. Up and down he thrust his hips to meet mine. He drove his dick so deep into me; I felt wave and wave of pleasure.

The voices faded outside. They concluded that he might have gone out to scout the neighbourhood as he did often when the renowned man of God and his entourage visited any place.

In a swift motion, while our lips were locked in a French kiss, his dick deep in my pussy, the bodyguard turned me around. He was now on top. He dug in. He dug in deep. His lips covered mine and prevented me from screaming. I moaned loudly in his mouth. He fucked me. I raised my hips to meet his thrusts. His big dick filled my pussy and left no breathing space. He fucked me hard and long. I dug my nails into his back as I enjoyed every bit of his thrusts. I came. My juices flowed so much, I wondered how many times I had cum and didn't know it. The bodyguard had still not cum. 

My wonderful instrument of enjoyment. He was so focused on my pleasure. 

When I finished cumming, I twisted his dick out of my pussy and turned around on all fours. I lifted my ass up and arched my back. The bodyguard entered me in one try as I was wet from my pussy juice. He grabbed my hips and fucked me hard. He fucked me with rage. I wish I could have seen his eyes. His hard dick went in and out... quick and hard. Short strokes. He pumped and pumped. Then his pace quickened. He grabbed my ponytail and fucked me good. 

His body stiffened. 

I pushed my ass back to envelope his dick fully. He shot his cum deep into me. Spurt after spurt, I contracted and relaxed my pussy walls to milk him dry. When he was spent, he let go of my hair and I collapsed onto the bed. I knew my guts had been rearranged.

The bodyguard said goodnight to me, picked up his clothes and went into his room. I couldn't pick up myself to go shower.

I slept.

The next morning, I complained to the manager that I wasn't well. He gave me permission to go home. I went into the bodyguard's room to say good bye. He was in the shower. My eyes twinkled as I realized the possibility of what I could do. I quickly shed off my clothes and opened the shower curtain. He spun around defensively and relaxed when he saw me. He reached out and I melted into his arms. We kissed passionately while the water cascaded over our bodies. His very hard dick was poking my tummy. He lifted my left leg and supported it upwards with his right arm. I grabbed his dick and positioned it at the entrance to my pussy. He slid in slowly. 

We fucked in that position for a while. I intentionally reached out and pushed the soap down. We both laughed as the soap fell. I bent over to pick it up and he entered me from behind. He bent all the way to grab my boobs as he fucked me slowly and deeply. I forgot that I came to say goodbye. The sensations ran through me. I groaned. I moaned. I mouthed some nonsense. He fucked me. Slow. Raw. My orgasm started building. I needed him to cum with me. I tightened my pussy around his dick and pushed my ass back. He got the cue and thrust forward to meet my every push back. My juices flowed without prior permission. His dick grew bigger in me. My eyes opened widely as I felt cum pour into me. My knees felt weak. He held my hips to support me.

I turned around to kiss him as we let the water rinse our bodies clean. I said my goodbyes and exited his room discreetly.

My greatest sexcapade.. 

Years later, I met Mr Bodyguard in Jet, Accra Mall, and I was genuinely happy to see him. We exchanged pleasantries and he tried taking my number but I said no. I knew what he could do to my uterus. I missed it but I was a married woman at that point. Some things were better left in the past. He said alright and goodbye. I called after him, "maybe another time".

These days when I think about that encounter in the supermarket, I wish I had taken the bodyguard's number. I have been divorced for two years and it would have done me a great deal of good to have the bodyguard providing bouts and bouts of orgasm as only he could.

Maybe another time.








A story, that may or may not be a true story, inspired by my buddy Vicky.
Additional help from my sweetheart Naa Djama.

Don't. Don't Wait For Women.

Nothing good comes out of waiting for a female to finish dressing up. I learnt this the hard way. I didn’t have an appropriate school bag, and I really wanted to take my laptop to school on a fateful Thursday. One of the girls I was talking to at the time offered to bring me hers. She just had to bathe first. I decided to wait. After all, I had a few cedis on me and I was going to pick a taxi to school. Pulling up in school with a pretty female beside me sounded like Runtown’s ‘Mad Over You’ to my ears. Appealing.

I finished pressing my clothes, took my bath, and proceeded to open Snapchat to see if Fiifi Yankey had discovered a new way to make us laugh, and if Thess had found a different way of moving her head from side to side and mumbling the wrong words to songs. Probably Hawa was cooking something that looked delicious though she won’t invite me to eat. If there was time, I would tap on Farcadi’s name and… well, you know what happens when you open Queen Farcadi’s snaps. Anyway, I did all that in a bid to while away time since I was waiting for the girl to come along with the bag.

45 minutes passed and I hadn’t heard from her. Then I remembered she had told me she didn’t have credit. She probably had been chitchatting with an azonto guy for too many minutes. I called her and she said she had just finished bathing. 45 minutes, fam! She had ‘just finished bathing’. A quick glance at the time on my phone (I don’t have a wristwatch) told me it was 9:38 AM. I was already 8 minutes late for my class.

Gender and Development. Ironic that that was the class I had to be in on that day. I was waiting for a human of female gender who clearly had not learned to develop with time. I kept waiting for her. 10:00 AM and she still hadn’t knocked on my door. I was angry. Angry isn’t the word I am looking for, but It should do for now. I have been in GIJ for four good years. Just this final semester that I decided to be serious and not miss a single class, Eve’s descendant was threatening to destroy my plans.

Exasperation set in. if there’s a difference between that and being angry, then yes. I paced around on my compound waiting. I called. She didn’t answer. I nearly went mad. Why the fuck are you not answering? Sorry but yeah, that was how I was feeling at the time. I put 2 and 2 together and I got 22 because I had racked my brains more than I should have. I picked my laptop and its charger, added my phone charger, my afro comb, and my multi socket. I left my room and took the route that headed in the direction of her place. Part of me wanted to give vent to my frustration when I met her. The other part called for the silent treatment. I always go along with the second opinion.

She was on her way. I must admit, she was looking really gorgeous. All those minutes spent in the shower and in front of the mirror stroking her face with brushes, and whatever women did as make up had paid off. She was dressed to kill. She had killed herself trying to look good in order to attract a man that would kill for her. I was having none of it though. It was 10:20 AM. Being more than fifty minutes late for a class that I had vowed to not miss, I wasn’t about to be enthralled by her majesty’s presence. I promptly took the bag from her and stopped a taxi.

Usually, I pay 5 cedis to get to campus from Oxford Street, Osu. The driver wouldn’t budge. He wanted 6 cedis. I could have let him go and stopped another one but I didn’t. Too late, too angry. I hopped in and the lady scurried in with me. She tried to make conversation, I wore a stern look to match the silent treatment. No response whatsoever from me. She gave up trying to get me to talk to her. Soon enough, we got to campus. I got out and rushed to my class. Lecture Hall D2. At least, that’s what the timetable that I received via WhatsApp said.

“Go back!” That was the lecturer. I was so confused. It felt like cold water had been poured on me. I am an extremely shy person so you can imagine how I felt. All eyes were on me. Red-faced from the embarrassment, I turned and left the class. That was how I found a cool place to sit and write this – the only way I really know how to express myself.

Hungry a bit later, I found myself at the cafeteria chewing salads and fried fish. My class rep, Obed, came in and accused me of being in school but not attending our lecture. I explained to him that the lecturer sacked me and if he was there he would have seen it. Later on, two of my colleagues; Junior, and Man in White, stopped by my table and attacked my integrity. During the holidays, I had made a promise to the class that I would not miss any lecture in my final sem. I finished chewing my fish, and calmly explained what had happened.

That was when it became clear. Man in White had also gone through my ordeal. Only, his sharp eyes had made him realize the students in lecture hall D2 were not his colleagues. So the sack didn’t really bear on him that much. Searching for a needle in a haystack, he finally met someone who told him our class was happening live in lecture hall B2. And in there, our Gender and Development lecturer was a very lenient man who allowed latecomers in without a fuss. I, on the other hand, missed the class.

That was how I knew that nothing good comes out of waiting for  a female to finish dressing up.

Moral of the story: Never wait for a woman to finish dressing up. Either cancel your plans, or go alone.

I Don't Have Dreams; I Have Goals.

This lecturer said he has never dreamt in his life and my colleagues were arguing with him. For some reason, I didn’t doubt him. A good three minutes was wasted shouting and arguing with him. They argued that every human dreams at a point in his sleep. What they didn’t get was that all along, he was not talking about sleeping and having movies playing in your head. Most often, you even wake up and forget them. He was talking about the wishes that humans have. When you eat two huge balls of kenkey and hot pepper, and you declare that you dream of becoming an Astronaut. He was talking about that time in 1963 when Martin Luther King Jr. said, “I have a dream…!”

I was with him the whole time. Not that I’m smarter than my colleagues in class, but I understood Dr. Alidu Seidu, my Politics and Development lecturer. Thinking about it though, they should have gotten the idea the moment he said, “I have never had a dream. Everything that I have now, I worked hard for it.” He didn’t explain much. He played along with the banter because he welcomed the relief. After all, all work and no play makes a Alidu a dull lecturer.

My mom tells me when I was young, they used to make songs for me with my names. I have lots of them. Apparently, Selasie was my name too. They used to create melodies like, ‘Fiifi Doctor, Evans Lawyer, Odoi President, Aboah Pastor, Selasie Bank Manager…’. I don’t remember those moments. I don’t know but I’m sure I was more concerned about sucking my mother’s breasts and having a healthy growth. Not sure I handled her nipples well because now, my head is big and I can only see with the aid of glasses with the thickest lens you’ll ever see.

I have never had a dream. Not that I can remember. I don’t have dreams, I have goals. When I was young and in Junior High School, I wanted to attend a first class senior high school. You needed to pass the BECE before that could be possible. Looking back, I think I worked way too hard for the exam. Or I should say I think my daddy worked me way too hard for the exam. I remember an exam he made my cousin and I write at home. It was Social Studies. I finished quickly and slept on the desk. My daddy was furious. “So this is what you are going to do at the real exam hall!” in my mind, I was like, ‘look fam, it’s not that deep.’ When my daddy brought the papers back, I had 87%, my cousin had a cool 90% but I wasn’t bothered at all. What I am getting at is that, I had a goal to be in Persco, and I worked hard to get there. I have only ever hugged my step mom once in this life. That was when the BECE results came out.

My high school life was a blur. I juggled being a non-serious student and being a very neat student. My goal at the time was to be the neatest student. Come on, prefects are not on this list. They are required to be neat at all times. I was actually really regular for a large chunk of my first term in school. I was dirty, unfortunately, like most of the boys. We can pass with, “it’s a boys school. You don’t need to impress anyone.” People will call you gay (out of ignorance and boredom) if you are too neat.

Two incidents changed my life. I passed by one Kwesi Jiggs who was a senior at the time. He called me back and asked if I used any deodorant. I just stared at him. He told me bluntly that I smelled really bad, all the while urging me to take my bath everyday and use a nice deodorant. If I heard that from anyone today, I would be a bit devastated. At that time, I didn’t care. I saw him as ‘too known’. Then another time, this senior that I admired punished me. He was neat but gee, if you know what I mean. He kept an afro which was always neatly combed. And his clothing was always clean and pressed. He is the one that changed me then. My punishment (for whatever it was) was to wear clean and pressed clothes. I obliged. It seemed easier than clearing a large portion of stubborn weed. And since then… I think you should ask about the white shirt and trousers I was spotted in on Sundays. Now, it wasn’t my goal but eventually it became mine and I lived up to it. My best memory of that four year period was when Felix Gyamerah, my year group’s assistant School Prefect (whom I consider the neatest of all time) asked me for a white shirt. I was very happy he had recognized me and my effort. All I am saying is that I didn’t dream of being one of the neatest if not the neatest student. It was a goal and I worked hard to achieve it.

The Harvey Specter

Admittedly, I have not always known the difference between dreams and goals. I only got to know this when I watched Suits. S03E06. That episode changed Harvey’s life. Harvey had finally gotten his name on the wall as a Name Partner in Jessica Pearson’s law firm.  His secretary, Donna, walked into his office after seeing the sign. She mentioned a celebration and the following conversation ensued:

Harvey: You saw the sign?

Donna:  Yeah, dream come true for any lawyer.

Harvey: I don’t have dreams, I have goals, and now it’s on to the next one.

 That is the conversation that made me realize that there was a thin line separating dreams and goals. And since then, I have tried so hard to make sure that I do not have dreams. I set goals and make sure they are achieved. I remember there was this girl that I liked. I set a goal concerning when I would finally get her to like me and when I would get to kiss her. I worked towards it and thankfully, I didn’t fail. Oh yeah!

Google has search results that tell you the huge and many differences between Dreams and Goals. “According to an online dictionary, ‘a dream is a succession of images, thoughts, or emotions passing through the mind. A goal is a projected state of affairs that  a person or a system plans or intends to achieve’…”

So you are allowed to dream. But don’t let it end there. If your dreams appeal to you and you want to live them, just make them goals and achieve them!     

Imagine yourself being a President of a nation. If you don’t make plans and put in work to reach that desired point, you are just a dreamer.

Maybe it’s good to dream. I can’t decide for you. I, for one though, would rather set a goal and make sure it’s achieved, rather than have dreams and not work towards them.

My name is Fiifi Khoruz and I don’t have dreams; I have goals.

The Friend Ship Sinks

If I could turn back the hands of time

I would strengthen the bridges

Losing friendships should be considered a crime

Handle the needle; help me with the stitches

Help keep my friend ships from sinking; do you need a hook and line?

Always thought my friendships would last, till a couple hit the ditches

Now it’s tough, I am trying to make things right

Humans are most probably the strangest of creatures

We watch situations get darker and then later try to turn on the lights

We present gifts and write long speeches

Sometimes, the effort is too little, and too late most times

-        Fiifi Khoruz.

-        16^th October, 2016.

-        Unedited.