As Yemi’s private car pulled up outside the local nightclub, I looked out at the darkened street in the lovely, warm evening, people going about their plans for a great night of drinking, dancing and sex.
And then I looked back over at Yemi herself, the gorgeous Yoruba singer who sat next to me on the plush black leather seat, looking out the window with a smile, evidently enjoying the idea of a night out when it wasn’t a PR event.
As the car stopped I opened the door and stepped out of the car, feeling the warm, dry air of the bustling city envelop me, taking a breath of it as it overwhelmed the cold, crisp air-conditioned air of the car.
Closing the door, I walked round to her side, glancing at the still abundant traffic despite the late hour, marvelling how the modern city just never stopped, its pulse constant and strong. I opened her door, stepping aside to wave her from the comfortable car.
“Thanks,” she said with a smile, looking up at me as she carefully exited the car, careful to keep her reasonably short, loose black skirt down over her gorgeous thighs so as not to give the photographers that were inevitably present a view up it.
I was Yemi’s bodyguard, one of them at least, but a senior member of her security team and the longest-serving, and on top of that, she was a good friend, as in several years working together we’d built up quite a good, close relationship in our close quarters and so much time spent together.
That wasn’t hard when she was such an amiable and pleasant person to be with, and it made the job a pleasure to do as she travelled around Africa. And it was never a bad thing to be friends with the hottest thing to come out of Nigeria.
“Always a pleasure,” I replied with a smile, carefully ushering her from the car and closing the door, tapping on the window to signal the driver to pull away, which he swiftly did, his duty performed. With the car gone, Yemi’s arm slid through my own, a friendly, normal thing she did, and I escorted her towards the front door of the club as flashbulbs went all around us from the photographers getting snaps of her for their blogs.
She paused to quickly chat with fans and sign autographs, making some dedicated fans for entire years as she signed their photo or arm, depending on how crazy they were, but none of them was dangerous obsessed types, long since noted by me as I scanned the crowd of people outside the club wanting their moment with her.
With the autographs signed, Yemi once again lightly took my arm and we entered the expensive club, the kind of place that sells three hundred thousand Naira cocktails with diamond rings in, being greeted by very polite staff who suggested a VIP area.
“So how’s it feel to have a night out of your own, well sort of,” I said with a smile, meaning me since I was a link to her every day, superstar life.
“It feels great,” she said with a wide smile, a genuine one, not the everyday one she wore for the cameras, “just so rarely get any days off when we’re touring to explore any of the incredible and vibrant places we go, feels so good to actually do it, get out and taste the essence of a place,” she gushed, evidently quite thrilled to get a night out.
“Can’t get better company though it seems,” I teased, smiling as we walked towards the VIP area.
“Don’t be silly, you’re not just some hired bouncer to look after me, I will happily have a night out with you over people,” she said with a smile, turning back to walk ahead into the luxurious VIP area, leaving me to stare after her, checking out the lovely slender pinch of her waist, the flare of her hips and her gorgeous butt, so round and firm, part of her incredibly toned, flexible body.
I couldn’t help but gaze at her lustfully for a moment, her gorgeous body and fine ass. I had always wanted a piece at her, what man wouldn’t, but I assumed her out of bounds, firstly because she was my employer and it was my job to look after her, and secondly because she had a long term boyfriend and was pretty sure she has little interest in just another security guard, even if they had become solid friends.
“Come on,” she said, snapping me from my thoughts, at which I quickly followed her into the VIP area and headed to the booth she picked out and slid onto the long seat beside her, where she immediately ordered some drinks, Yemi opting for their unique cocktails as I opted for whiskey with a bit of ice, just enjoying the smooth blended flavours.
It was a bit quiet, to begin with, but it quickly filled up with the rich and famous, the VIP area bustling, a few people pausing to meet Yemi but generally letting her be. As the night wore on we drank more, our conversations, which were quite deep about our lives, our families and our life on tour, how we missed being at home but relished it all at the same time and so on.
Eventually, though neither of us knew how or ever questioned it, the conversation turned to sex.
“It’s been a while,” Yemi said, quite pointfully shortly after their topic had turned that way, looking up into my eyes.
“I…really?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me, unable to hold back from trying to find out about Yemi’s activities between the sheets.
“…Yeah, been on tour for months, my boyfriend’s back home, not had any for a while except.., well never mind,” she said, looking back down to her drink.
“Except what?” I asked.
“Except…my toys,” she said quietly, glancing about to make sure nobody was listening, though of course we were all wrapped up in our own little world.
“Oh right, not quite the same though huh?” I asked with a slight smile.
“No, not the same. Good sure, they get me through, wouldn’t like to be here on tour without my vibrating friend, but it’s not the same as proper sex,” she said with a smile.
“I’m sure,” I said with a smile, loving that Yemi would divulge this to me, both of us quite drunk though.
“What about you though? When’s the last time you got laid?” she asked boldly, sitting back nonchalantly in her seat and draining the last of her sizeable cocktail.
“I dunno, before the tour began, months, just like you, only I don’t have a friend in my bag to help me along,” I said with a laugh.
“You have your hand though,” she teased with a smile, leaning forward again.
“True,” I said with a laugh, loving the light-hearted way we could chat.
“But seriously, none on the tour? I would’ve thought you would get out there and find someone to hook up with?” she asked, looking quizzically at me.
“Nope, no one. We’re not usually in one place long enough to have the free time to get any action, I’m always looking out for you aren’t I?” I said with a smile.
“Ah, I guess so, anyone waiting at home though? Should’ve asked if that was why you hadn’t…” she said, not finishing.
“No no, I’m single, don’t think I would want a job like this if I had a family waiting at home.
“Yeah it’s tough, I don’t have children but my boyfriend, parents and friends, all back home, makes it tough to be on the road all the time,” Yemi said.
“But it makes it so much better when you get home right?” I said, smiling as I drained my own glass.
“Well…yeah he’s happy to see me and all, doesn’t take long to get to it,” she said, not sounding hugely enthusiastic about it all.
“But…?” I asked, just waiting for her to say what she evidently had on her mind.
“Well he’s a pretty decent size and everything, he’s good as well, just…he’s not adventurous, never wants to do anything new,” she said, sighing as she looked up at me.
“No? What kinda new stuff?” I asked, wanting to know just what Yemi wanted to be getting up to in private.
“Well, positions, we only do like two of them, and anything a bit playful like role-playing, bondage, you know even light stuff with handcuffs,” Yemi elaborated, not the least bit concerned now to tell me this stuff.
“Oh so you want to get a little kinky, and he won’t do it?” I asked, trying not to sound too excited or eager and put her off.
“Not really that kinky, just playful levels, letting me be in charge now and then,” she said, looking a little shy about it.
“Well, it’s kinda kinky, wanna put me in his place do you, be the dominatrix?” I said with a laugh, breaking the tension lest it ruins things. She gave a laugh, a heartfelt, real laugh, a sign of our real friendship.
“No no, I know he’s not up for that, even if I have…dabbled with that in the past,” she said with a smile, “I just want a little fun.”
“Oh been there have you, dominating people with your thigh-high PVC boots?” I said with a smile.
“…Actually, I was under the boot,” she said, looking into my eyes.
“…Master…or mistress?” I asked, feeling my heart beat faster, knowing I was pushing it a bit to even ask.
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