Sunday, January 13, 2008

Maid of Honour

"Oh my God, you look so beautiful" Banke exclaimed. She did it in her familiar high pitched British accent influenced English. There were tears in her eyes. I guess the sight of me was indeed that beautiful that she was moved to tears. From somewhere in the depths of my soul, I found a smile and made an extreme effort to project it onto my face. It worked.

"Awwwww", she cooed, "you are blushing". I looked away. I could not hold her happy gaze any longer. I reached for my earring and manouvered the stud between my fake french manicures and proceeded to put them on. Banke rushed to take them from me and help me put them on. It was my day, someone was bound to sneeze for me, if I asked them to. I had done nothing for myself in three days except pee. It would have been alarming had I cared.

The sounds in the room masked my tumultuous mind. My silence had already been interpreted as cold feet. Of course, I was wondering if I was making the right choice, they joked, but did I not see that he and I were destined to be together? I mean, any one of them would say, he comes from a great home, he loves me and above all, I was going to be living in the lap of luxury. My engagement ring alone, if sold could buy me an island in Dubai's Palm Jameirah. I looked at it. I wondered why even though its shine looked so cold, it was burning itself into my skin. I wanted to yank it off and ram it down Banke's throat and end her incessant chatter. There was an increase in the volume of chattering females that made up my carefully selected bridal train- I mean, the wedding was being covered by every network and magazine, reputable and aspiring-and I looked up. My mother had come in.

She looked lovely. She always said that she was suited for wealth and that is why she had been born into the family that she was. Her chocolate skin shone like polished wood and her makeup was flawless, a feat she had mastered years ago and never lost. I was content to let the sweating make up artist paint my face up. I did not care. I just wanted this to be over with.

"Eeeh, adumaadan, iyawo ologe " she greeted me in Yoruba. I had moved to greet her when she entered but she had halted me. "This dress is gorgeous. It fits you like a glove. Hmnnn, when he ses you, I am sure he will just faint with ecstasy."

I really wished that he would. I did not tell her so.

"But I cannot imagine why Romoke could not be here today. I mean, what happened? you still have not said..."

Banke looked away little bit uncomfortable. I did not blame her. She had not been my maid of honour until the week before. She had tried to find out why I had removed Romoke and when I had refused to respond to her, she had instead immersed herself in the glory of her position. Everyone withe eyes knew she had her sights on the best man. Romoke was out and Banke was in and she was going to ride her position well. This was the wedding of the decade and who knew whom she would meet? She did not intend to enter the new year unmarried. I knew it and as a friend acknowledging but not understanding her quiet desperation, I was in some way giving her an eight month start. After all, how long do you really need to know when you want to or not get married. I knew I did not want to be Bashir's wife from the first day I met him.

I did not answer my mother. I coughed and Banke produced a glass of water from somewhere. My mother was looking at me. I wondered if she could tell what I was thinking and feeling.

"The limo is here." a young female voice carried over the din bringing shrieks. My mother abandoned her questioning as the finishing touches began to be made. I rose to my feet, clad in ivory silk that cascaded in volumes about me. The hairdresser, hindered by my meddling mother shoved my veil through my curls into my head.

It was time

His thrusts were not non-pleasurable. I resolved that I could possibly grow accustomed to him as I deftly and skillfully raised my hips to meet his, punctuating his groans with artfully delivered moans. He would reach his peak in a few minutes and I knew that I would have to "arrive" at mine before that, helping him in his lovemaking to me. I clenched my muscles and felt his shuddering begin.

I increased my pace, digging my nails as hard as I could into the skin of his back. If I tore through flesh, hey. As his uninhibited moans escaped his lips and his movements became jerky and sharp as his body convulsed to an orgasm, I relaxed my limbs and belted out the most guttural and incoherent sounds that I could. I added a few shivers to bring home the message and we both "danced" to the music of our "orgasms".

He held me afterwards. I let him, I mean, he was my husband and if he wanted to cuddle from then till January, I had to let him. I did not even mind his sweat. It smelled clean. It was okay.

"Dolapo." His voice was hoarse and a little bit shaky. His descent was much slower than I thought.

"Hmnnn" If I spoke and he heard the strength in voice, he would know that I had not received the same results as he. I matched my breathing to his...just slightly.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I actually smiled because I could hear the hesitation in his voice. He reminded me of the boy I had met when I was six and he, ten years of age. I nodded into the crook of his arm. My back was to him and he had spooned his length around me. I could feel his member, not quite limp against my back and I sensed it would not be that long before he was good to go again. I had heard of his "abilities".

"It get's even better." He whispered into my hair. My bun was nearly undone and my braids had spilled some.

I nodded.

"It will get better and you will begin to recognise my heartbeat as your own."

I rolled my eyes in the darkness. Boy, please.

He pulled me tighter so suddenly that a gasp betrayed my surprise. "I can make you happy if you just let me."

I had no room to squirm and he was holding me so tight that I could not breathe. I was suddenly scared. "Bashir..." I whispered in a choked gasp.

"Dolapo, I can make you happy if you just let me love you and you give us a chance."

"Bashir, what on earth are you saying? It is our wedding night." I began, moving my head to try and look at him.

"Is it?" he asked as he let me go. The rush of air made me a bit weak and I quickly sat up and whipped around to look at him. He was lying there, naked in all his male glory and looking at me with eyes so sad that I began to panic. He knew, I thought, he knew.

I laid a hand on his chest, "Bashir, " I began in a voice most demure, "what is the matter? why are you talking like this?"

"You are my wife. " he said simply

"I would imagine so, or both our families have just spent alot of money for nothing and the past forty-eight hours have been just for show." i joked.

"You are my wife, Dolapo." he said again. he was not joking

"Yes" I agreed.

"Then forget her."


Zena said...

uh!oh!uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu, are we going to finish this?

tc said...


Laura Adiba said...

wait what? I don't get it ..then forget about who??...LOL..I'm slow like that

Jaycee said...

wow...forget her!!!! Who is she? (U write very well).

Ugo Daniels said...

Hmmmmmmmm...interesting, maybe i missed some earlier posts!

tc said...

she is her ex-chief bridesmaid that was probably more than a this a short story or a series tho?

bumight said...




Woman said...

Finish what again? It's done.

Look, why don't you talk to Jeremy about your short stories? He's a publisher and I'm sure he'll be glad to be of help.

Abi Jeremy?

Zephi said...

ok I am confused on the last part...yeah yeah whateva I can be slow sometimes

Anonymous said...

Madam catwalq... i seriously hope you will finish this story. It will be incredibly cruel if you dont.
Take care of you..
ps: you write well. practice makes perfect i guess.

bhookey said...

wow am i the only un-slow one lol but im guessing he and her chief bridesmaid were frolicking but she still went ahead with the wedding, duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

bhookey said...

nice tho, i could just imagine it!

Honeywell said...

oh my goodness.....

Nyemoni said...

Oh my! Forget her eh? Uh Uhhhh....

Anonymous said...

brilliant as always.pls check out dis new blog.

princesa said... she's a le-le.
Poor guy.

Jaja said...

e don tay ooo...

Hope say you go understand say na for inside Bayesa swamp i dey de mostly.
your blog fine die!

Anonymous said...

thats funny.

N.I.M.M.O said...

Damn! Wait, let me see if I get this.

I'm gwan read again

Jinta said...

thank you cat, for recognising that as men, we can be insightful even when it does not appear obvious

N.I.M.M.O said...

OK. Done. But still confused, this could mean one of two things. Or Both.

1. Dolapo is a lesbian and Romoke is/was her partner. She decides to 'sacrifice' Romoke for her marriage to Bashir. Letting go was not easy though.

2. Bashir was doing Romoke, her best friend while courting her (Dolapo). Romoke is pregnant for Bashir but somehow it was agreed that she step aside to avoid scandal.

Number 2 does not seem too right but its either of the two or I am duller than I thot.

I know Catwalq will not explain it, she rarely does but its a WOW read as usual.


Nwanyi Ocha said...

Catwalq! Catwalq!!! Catwalq !!!!

How many times did i call your name?
haba now.... you cant just leave me with "forget about her"

ps: happy new year luv

Allied said...


Florida of Free Spirit said...

wow!!!! 'then forget her'!!! wow!!! am blown away, girl. u write so freaking well. wow

יש (Yosh) said...

I'll be back for a proper 'post-related' comment, but just wanted to hola!

My, it sure does look different here.

Mo miss e gaan o!

Hope ya a'ight. Thx for looking out for me.

I'll ttys

gishungwa said...

Does a woman really have to do what she has to do are there cases whee you can abscond duty and put yourself first? i doubt that i want the saying"if you cant be with the one you love, love the one you are with" to be true for me.

Naija Vixen said...

nice....will b bk to continue
hows u tho?

Simi Speaks said...

Wow! another intriguing book series for me to stalk. Perfect timing, just as bimby's is coming to an end!

Dont leave us hanging, girl!

Sherri said...

nicely done!

how u dey babe?
settling down to akada well i hope?

eFJay said...

Absolutely fabulously written...
sure i'd keep coming back 4 more after that read...

CATWALQ a.k.a LAGBA-JESS said...

Zena: It is up to you. You are free to take the story as far as you wish.

Laura Adiba: welcome to my blog. i don't believe that you have been here you get it now? I think other bloggers have helped clarify the story

Jaycee: Who do you think it is?

Ugo Daniels: Nope. The story is complete

TC: It is a short story

Bumight: Thank you jare. Where is my ground pepper and crayfish?

Solomonsydelle: yes oooooo. How is my husband?

Woman: we shall see about that. As you see, uncle Jeremy has not yet replied.

Zephi: read it again and then read all the comments and tell me if it is still difficult to decipher

Anonymous 8.30: It is a short story.It's end is there.

Bhookey: well, that is one option but I doubt he would command her like that to forget the other woman and forgive him...or what do you think?

Honeywell: Oh my goodness...

Nyemoni: Na the man talk am o. no be me. Abi wetin you think?

Anonymous 5.58: Thanks for stopping by. I have checked it out and it is not bad

Princessa: Haba! do you have to say it that way? I would say she has "special" preferences and inclinations.....

Jaja: as long as say no be only that nonsense beans you dey chop, then all is well cos that thing was bound to land someone somewhere horrible

Geisha: it is? I some way

Uncle Jinta: your other half always knows when something is off. It is now whether they choose to remain that is the issue and not whether they aware. They always know. You always know.

Nimmo:Option 1 was my inclination...funny how alot of stories are coming out of this one story that some think is incomplete because of its length.

Nwanyi Ocha: Three times. But that is the end now. what do you want me to do

Allied: thank u

Florida of free spirit: thanks girl. somethings have to be let go of for there to be progress of some kind.

Yosh: welcome back. your space has been permanently reserved

Gishungwa: what exactly is duty? And I also pray that same prayer for myself too

Naija Vixen: long time. will await you

Simi speaks: it is not a book. but it could be part of one. it is a short story

Sherri: we are managing o my sister

efjay: anytime. the blog is open for your viewing pleasure

Atutupoyoyo said...

The story is complete my friends!All those asking for part two should try and read between the lines a bit more.

I confess that I was actually struggling to complete this as it initially read like a standard, run-of-the mill romance story. The pace picks up in the second part however and the ending puts a completely different slant on the tale and forces you to re-read. It is only after a second reading that you start to understand the character, and indeed the story, a bit more.

The finish is strong but you should dispense with some of the cliches in the opening half and replace with some of your own phrases. You have a great ear for the rhythm and nuances of dialogue and I have to say I secret prefer your plays. However this is another noteworthy addition to the collection.! Ku she! Bout to email u

InCogNaija said...

Nicely written...suspense factor is powerful but abeg wan kill person? finish am abeg...forget about who?

Flowers and Poetry said...

Like Jaja said, True True "Your blog fine die!"

Well done!

yayi said...

This is very nice. I enjoyed reading this post. Did he cheat with the other girl before the wedding? Why did you remove her from being the maid of honor?
Pls finish this gist o. very interesting.
thanks for stopping by

Uzo said...

Love this..

Let me guess, the former maid of honor and the bride were lovers?

M i right?

יש (Yosh) said...

Eerrm, then forget her?

Hmmmm, that's serious o!

This kinda teaser-stories that keep u going till the end and gboa comes the punchline. I wish I can do that.

Nice one!

Afrobabe said...

Awwwwww I dont know who I pity most, the bride or the groom....both in pain over someone that doesn't even matter...hope she gives him a for that fake orgasm...classic...almost seems like a script from my

Omodudu said...

You are getting pretty good at this.

little miss me said...

tsk!..good she gave banke the space on the train. money cant buy happiness and honesty..nice story.

pamelastitch said...

Oh my goodness...

Catwalq is about to go there....


Queen of My Castle said...

Somehow I am feeling like a dunce here. I read this the day you posted and have pondered about it. I will assume that the "Her" that she should forget about is the friend that got knocked out of the maid of honor position.

Misan said...

first time on here, haven't read the rest but i'm going to assume the "her" is a lesbian lover, am i right?