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[STORY] DIARY OF A PASTOR’S SON (Episode 13)

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DIARY OF A PASTOR’S SON by Frank The Writer - AllNaijaEntertainment
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Episode 13.

My trip from Ibadan to Ondo was on a Friday morning. My father asked me to come back on time. It was around 7 a.m. when I neatly arranged my clothes in my small bag. My sister, Aramide, and Segun (my Aunt’s son) were preparing for school while I was getting ready. Biola was still in bed.

When finally I was set to go, my Aunt walked with me down the street. The morning cloud was still up and the weather felt cold. Silence accompanied my Aunt and I as we walked down the street. I soon found a bike and waved it down. “Safe journey, Femi. My regards to your mom. I’ll still call her to know how she’s doing,” she said in the Yoruba language. “Alright, Aunty.” I climbed the bike. She waved to me as we zoomed off. I returned the gesture with a half smile.

On arriving at the park, there were buses without passengers and a few others with passengers. Some older men were seated in a corner taking alcoholic drinks. Few others were on the look for passengers. “Shey o nlo?” asked one of the older men when I passed by. He meant, “Are you going?”
“I’m going to Ondo,” I answered.
“Go there. That Sienna over there,” replied the man.
“Okay. Thank you,” I said and left.

On approaching the Sienna, the driver quickly rushed and collected my bag. “Have your seat,” he said in Yoruba. He looked desperately in search of more passengers. It was almost getting filled. There were only two seats left. The brown Toyota Sienna was fully packed with passengers and goods. I got in and sat at the extreme so I could receive fresh air. At first, it was stuffy and uncomfortable, partly because of the smell of unwashed bodies and the absence of leg room.
When we were about to leave, I bent down and said a quick prayer to be able to survive the ordeal. The driver turned out to be quite friendly as he apologized in the Yoruba language to the passengers for the discomfort and pleaded with us to bear with him, he had lots of mouths to feed, he added jocularly.

Our journey from Ibadan to Ondo lasted for approximately two hours with an average speed of 112km per hour. It was a quick and safe trip without any form of delay or challenges on our way.
I arrived at our apartment around 10 am. The early morning sun had already set out up there, and the street bubbled with loud music from an unseen stereo. Nobody was in the house when I arrived. I quickly called my father on phone, and he directed me where he hid the spare key. Shola was in school. Agatha was nowhere to be found. Bidemi was a border and so my father was the only person available person in the hospital with my mom. I rushed in and dropped my bags. I had a quick bath and changed into new cloth. I knew the direction of the MMM Catholic hospital. It’s a popular one along the major road that connects Ore and Ondo.

My father was seated outside when I got to the hospital. “Good morning, sir.” I postulated in the best manner. “Femi, you’re here?” He lifted his head and our eyes got locked in contact. I simply nodded my head in affirmation to his query. “Where is my mom?” I asked. He stood up and I followed behind. That pungent smell of hospital filled my nostril. I detested those smells; always want to make me throw up. Mom was lying on her back in the female ward. Her eyes were shut and face up to the ceiling. She was on a drip. “What did the doctor diagnose?” I turned to my father. He seemed busy with his phone. “The doctor said she has Intermittent Fever.” I stood there and watched her as she lay there motionless. So many negative voices rushed through my head. “What if she dies?” I forbid the thought with immediate effect.

Then, my dad’s phone rang. He hastily went outside. He returned to the ward minutes later and told me he would be back soon. Not long after he left, mom’s eyes opened. She was surprised to see me. I went closer and sat by the bedside. She was weak and couldn’t stress herself talking much. She only asked a few questions; about her sister (My Aunt) Segun and Aramide. I told her everyone was fine. We didn’t talk much before her eyes began to close again in sleep.

My stomach began to make loud noise. I hadn’t eaten anything—and it was past eleven. It rumbled so loud that I had to look out for a nearby canteen. Outside the hospital, there was an older woman who sold food and provision but unfortunately, there was no food left again. Hungrily, I settled for snacks and chilled bottle of Pepsi. I really wanted to eat oily food that morning but I had no strength to start looking for places to buy. I only settled for what was available.

I was sipping the last drop of the Pepsi when my father returned. He asked if mom had woken up and I replied in the positive. He lead the way to the ward while I followed behind him. We were finally at the door when I turned and saw four people behind me; they were three men and a woman—and they walked in with us. My instincts told me it was my father’s church members and my guess was right. I’m sure you already know what they came for? Yeah, prayers! I felt my heart suddenly start to pound faster. I hope this man won’t ask me to lead them in praise and worship? I had pondered.

With the presence of everyone in the ward and the inaudible discussion that followed, my mom’s eyes opened again. “She’s awake,” alerted the woman among them. She went closer and sat beside her on the bed. They had a heart-to-heart conversation while the rest of us stood still. “The devil is a liar,” said one of the men. “Of course, he is a liar and loser. He lost the battle already,” the man on native wear added. My father nodded his head affirmatively to their positive declaration.

Well, long story short, the prayer session began with praise and worship which was led by the woman in their midst. Then followed by a prayer session which was led by two of the church members. My father ended the prayer session and he demanded we hold hands together, my mom inclusive. The prayer lasted for at least forty-five minutes.

They eventually left after encouraging her to be strong and that the Lord Jesus Christ had healed her already. “By His stripes, we are healed,” added the man on native. “You’ll be fine, Mummy wa,” said the woman who looked much older than my mom. The church members were used to calling my mom ‘Mummy wa’ and my dad, ‘Daddy wa’. They literally meant our Mummy and our Daddy.
When they were leaving, my father walked with them as they left the ward while I stayed back with my mom.

****
Around 4:30 pm, Shola showed up with a flask of food. She least expected to see me, even though I had dropped my bag at home. I guess she didn’t notice. The food she came with was for my mom and Dad. Luckily, she announced there was leftover at home. So we switched duty sharply. I told her to stay with mom while I go back and eat well before I die of starvation. She obliged. So I left and boarded a bike.

As soon as I arrived at our apartment, I sighted Bukola from the gate. She was in the corridor with her mom. At first, I wanted to dodge her from seeing me but it was late already. Our eyes got locked in contact. I quickly averted my eyes. She had this mean look that justifies she was mad at me. “Good evening, ma,” I greeted her mom. “Good evening. Welcome,” she reciprocated. I only winked at Bukola before making my way to the staircase. She didn’t respond to my gesture tho.

I reached our door, hastily unlocked the door, and headed towards the kitchen. The aroma of Jollof rice filled my nostril as soon as I entered. I reached for the plate and dished out a heap of it and started devouring it like a wolf. Damn! I had really been starving.

About twenty minutes later, I was done eating. I locked the door and made my way to the staircase. I needed to go back to the hospital so Shola would come home to make dinner.
When I hurried down the staircases, Bukola was standing at the end of it. She literally blocked my way, having scowled her face. “So you just do things the way you like?” she broke the awkward silence. “What’s that? You blocked my number and WhatsApp. Didn’t you?” I queried.

“And before I blocked you what happened? You were leaving and you couldn’t inform me?” She said, disappointed.
“How am I supposed to tell you when my father said we shouldn’t relate with you guys?” I didn’t say this to her hearing. It was just a mere thought that rushed through my head. “It was a sudden trip,” I said instead.
Amid the arguments, Bukola held me by my wrist and dragged me towards their flat. Just like in a movie, I followed her stupidly.

“Let’s go in,” she said.
“Go in where?” I enquired.
“Don’t worry, nobody is at home.”
“But I just saw you with your mom.”
“No. That was her sister. She already went back to their house,” she giggled while I felt embarrassed that I couldn’t differentiate her mother from her sister. Well, I only saw her mother twice or thrice.

She led the way as we went inside their house. My heartbeat went up faster than usual. Then I heard that calm and gentle voice again, “Femi, don’t go in there. Go back to the hospital now.” Bukola was already giving me green light. I knew she had missed me. I shut the door as soon as we entered their living room. “Lock it,” Bukola said. I turned and did as she said. “Femi, open it and flee instead,” came the voice again. I was troubled. I knew I wanted to stop everything going on in my mind and leave their house. I wanted to say something but she suddenly shut my lips with a kiss. Her soft and wet lips gave me a boner instantly. I rested my left hand on her back and my right hand on her boobs. I could feel her nips sticking out as she wasn’t wearing any bra. She was on a pink sleeveless top and a white short.

Bukola confessed she missed me as we crashed our lips. I already had a full erection and my breathing went up. The plan was to do a quickie and get going to my destination but it already seemed the opposite as she was all over me.
I reached her sleeveless, and with a pull, all the tied parts were out of their place. I removed it and threw it far from us. I showered her with a lot of kisses and started sucking her boobs.

I started to kiss her and suck her boobs. I made her boobs really wet with my saliva and started licking the nips intermittently. I reached her navel and licked it and took my tongue deep to have the full taste of the hot cup. She was damn sexy and beautiful. Bukola was actually the sexiest among the three I had explored. As I reached down, I opened the petticoat and started showering my kisses on her black panty.

From here on things started changing and she started enjoying the game. She lost all the control when she got the right thing in the right places and started to make the hip and back movements.. Ahhhh.. Hmmmm….. Ahhhhh… The pleasure was intense that I exploded in no time. She seemed disappointed but that was the limit I could go that evening. We cleaned up our mess and wore our clothes. Nobody said anything to each other. Silence accompanied us as we walked towards the entrance door.

I opened the door while Bukola was behind me. I had just made a step out of the door and boom, I looked up to the shock of my life, my father was coming in through the gate and our eyes met! Damn. I felt a cold shiver down my spine. I had this sudden urge to pee and started sweating instantly. “Femiii,” screamed my father. Bukola ran back inside the living room. I was dumbfounded and couldn’t utter a word while my father stared at me so badly. I felt myself losing balance as I stood there. “Femi, you are doomed. I warned you,” said the gentle voice.

To be continued… . . .


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