Pocket

It was her screams and moans that ended up being their waterloo.

This couple.

Their intermittent copulation was so riotous that the neighbours were moved to take action.

It was a high brow building in Ikoyi, occupied by high networth families in which everyone minded their business.

A building that no one knew what the other was doing or even who the other one was apart from the fact that they all were rich.

Neighbours as strangers.

But the sounds were so troubling and vexatious that the walls that separated them had to come down.

Those sounds.

The male shouting between grunts – Father anoint me!

The female responding between moans – Holy Ghost enter me!

The male hollering between deeper grunts – Father I claim even this one!

The female responding between rising screams – Holy Ghost lay your foundation!

The male barking between the deepest grunts – Father germinate this seed!

The female responding between high pitched screams – Holy Ghost possess my womb!

So they gathered together and nominated one of them to approach the couple and register their dismay.

And when the nominated man approached the male of the couple, he was surprised by the response.

“Definitely not me. My wife and kids are in the US. They live there. I stay here alone. Definitely not from my apartment you are hearing these lovemaking sounds.”

“No sir, I have come to your door several times to ascertain that it is coming from your apartment and i assure you it is.”

“When last did you hear these sounds?”

“Two weeks ago. Over a weekend. Friday, Saturday and Sunday.”

“It can’t be, I was visiting my family in the US that weekend.”

Silence.

Ponderment.

“Is there anyone in your apartment when you travel?”

“No one sleeps over.”

“But does anyone have access?”

“My cleaner comes in on friday, cleans and leaves. He spends eight hours at most in here.”

Another bout of silence.

A sigh.

“I hate to say this, but I think your cleaner might know what you don’t.”

It took more hobnobbing between the two.

And the next week, he announced to the cleaner that he was travelling.

That weekend there were no moans and grunts and holy exhortations.

But he didn’t relent.

Two weeks in a row, he informed the cleaner he was travelling and still there was nothing.

But the first week of the next month, the sounds exploded forth.

The neighbour raced down the staircase, while on the phone to the man.

He in-turn raced over from the hotel three streets away where he was lodging.

He met the neighbour standing in front of his door when he walked out of the elevator.

The sounds hit him with the force of it’s rude awakening.

They stared at each other.

The neighbour with a I-told-you-so shrug.

He slid his key noiselessly into the keyhole and opened the door silently.

The sounds were even louder.

They both walked into the apartment.

He was too dazed to comprehend what was happening as they made their way to the master-bedroom from where the sounds were emanating.

When he opened the door of the master bedroom the cold air from the airconditioning washed over him.

And lying there on the bed was his cleaner and a slim lady.

Both naked.

The cleaner’s dark hairy muscled buttocks gyrating between the fair complexioned spread eagled legs of the lady.

Her hands holding her ankles as she ordered the Holy Spirit.

His back shining from sweat as he called for anointing.

Both so caught up with their ecclesiatical psycho-erotic exorcism that they didn’t notice that they had a flabberwhelmed audience.

Both men were so shocked that they stood rooted to the spot watching the combusting couple until with a scream in unison of – Jesus! – they crested.

And collapsed in a heap of exhaustion, while whispering audibly.

“Thank you father, all glory belongs to you. Our miracle is perfected in the name of your son Jesus Christ.”

It was when they made to leave the bed that they saw the two men standing in the doorway of the room like pillars of salt.

Immediately the couple went on their knees without an effort to cover their nakedness and poured out a torrent of apologies.

A half hour later, the cleaner still on his knees beside the naked lady who he had identified as his lawfully wedded wife explained further to the strangely calmed man.

“… It is my pastor that said that we must take charge of the future of our unborn children. He said that it is the place of conception that determines the level of elevation. He said that you do not conceive a child in the heat and sufferness of an I face you, you face me room in Ajegunle and expect that child to rise to the level of owning a fully airconditioned five room mansion in Ikoyi. He said we must take a step of faith and when our wife is ovulating, we go and pound her congo under the anointing of God and the fire of the Holy Ghost, in the bedroom of the kind of house we want our unborn child to own in the future after they have been born…”

written by Jude Idada

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