Stories

Night Class (R18+)

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Shughar’m. How are you jare? My site has been down since morning that’s why this post is coming late. It’s been a while since I posted fiction. First of all, ignore the similarities between characters in this story and my humble self. The writer is a pant. lol. Sha enjoy.


Jenny pushed up her reading glasses and rubbed her eyes. The noise from outside had swelled to deafening proportions and she knew reading in agric, at least for her was over for today. It was the faculty’s campfire night, and the DJ outside had finished setting up and was testrunning his equipment. Exams were still two months away, so she had time. Usually, she preferred to read sketchily, then build up to frenzied reading during exams, but this semester she was adopting a different approach. She wanted to power-read throughout the semester, so that she could coast along and revise during exams. She was in 300 level, and CGPA was beginning to be a factor, so she figured she could as well up her game and make the year count, after all, four hundred level was IT, and then final year, so this was as good a time as any to build up her CGPA. Second class upper(2.1) or first class was not dependent on final year.

She removed the glasses and examined them. The fact that she had to wear glasses disgusted her. Her eyes felt fine, and if not for the medical examination she went for as a part of procedure for getting her international passport, she would never have known about the disorder. Thankfully, it was a minor problem, one that could be corrected by glasses, and so far she didn’t experience any pain or discomfort, and didn’t strain her eyes unduly, she was okay. She hated wearing glasses. They made her feel like an old maid. Twenty one was hardly old, she mused. People perceived the bespectacled as staid, conservative and backward. Boys hardly ever bothered to toast girls in glasses, particularly when they were not massively endowed. Jennifer knew she wasn’t a typical Nicki Minaj, with boobs and ass all over the place, but she was no ironing board. Her slim curves suited her just fine. She slid out her phone from the pocket of her jeans.
gl

Ochuko. Her boyfriend. She opened the text. “Missing you. HORribly. coming over? No? Yes?”
She smiled. Ochuko was horny. She was horny too, she hadn’t had some in about three weeks, but the problem was that Ochuko never quite satisfied her in the sack. She believed in size, and Ochuko was not exactly a general in that department. He was nice, caring, but sometimes those things did not count. Like now. She crossed and uncrossed her legs restlessly. If only Ochuko had a bigger cock. She slid her books into her bag and crossed the classroom to where her friend Amadin was reading.

“Babe”
“What’s up?”
“Abeg, my seat dey near window,and this noise no go let person concentrate. I wan waka around small, clear my head. Help me hold my bag.”
“No wahala”
She headed out of the faculty. Outside, the party was in full swing. A number of her classmates were jigging around to the music, and they waved to her. She waved casually, disinterestedly, and walked on, breathing deeply to fill her lungs with the crisp night air. Perhaps this restlessness would stop. This itch, this longing.
Suddenly the lights went out. Power outage. She pulled out her phone and switched on the flashlight to see by. Thankfully, the organizers had the foresight to power the sound with a generator, so the partying continued unabated, in the dark. A cab drove by, headlights illuminating the stretch of road before her, and she caught a glimpse of Ikem, her classmate. Ikem was in soil science, while she was in crop science, but the close proximity of their disciplines meant they would be taking classes together till final year. Tall, somewhat thick, and bespectacled, Ikemefuna was the essence of everything she feared would happen to her if she wore glasses all the time. Ikem was ridiculed by the boys and scorned by the girls. He was always the butt of jokes, and the fact that he never wore jeans and T shirts always made him appear ridiculously formal, making him more awkward. She often felt pity for him, but what was one person’s pity in the face of the ridicule of the entire class?

She called out. “Ikem!”
He turned. His rough afro and glasses gave him the look of an owlish professor, but he was not exactly at the top of the class. He studied, just like her, just like everyone in class, but …..to face facts, he was no genius.

She walked towards him as the school’s generator kicked in and the lights came on, bathing them in the glare of the streetlights. He saw her then, and adjusted his glasses on his nose with a finger.
“Jenny, hi”, he replied
.”Whassup? Where to?”
“Our faculty na, to read, why?”
Campfire night, noise, partying. Loud music. My advice: go somewhere else.”
“Naa, too far. Besides, if I need someone to explain something to me, I’ll leave wherever and start coming here, after which I’ll go back there. I’ll manage here instead.” He adjusted his glasses again.

“Okay, suit yourself, but I warned you”
“Thanks for the heads-up”

She stood there, watching him walk away. She wondered the kind of thick skin the guy would have had to develop, to endure the near constant ridicule of the class. She pulled out her phone and typed a reply to Ochuko, informing him she was in school, reading, and would not be able to come. She hit the ‘send’ button and imagined Ochuko groaning in dismay when he got the message. Hastily she typed again. “Miss you too, baby”

A few minutes later, as she was walking back, she met Ikem in front of the faculty building.
“Did I not tell you? Crazy noise, one can hardly hear a thing,talk less of read.” The noise drowned out the words, and he touched her elbow and inclined his head lower.

The lights went out again…..

To be continued same time next week

Written by madskillz.

Don't keep it all to yourself.... Share some sweetness!! ;)

About the author / 

Patrick Jennifer

My name is Patrick Jennifer............ Talkative extraordinaire (aspiring OAP), Professional 'carer', Wanna-be writer, and I am sweetness personified.

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