I was having one of those ‘shitty’ Mondays. Apparently browsing on my Nokia Ash seemed a lot faster than this crappy ‘4G’ internet. My desk was slowly piling and every now and then, my boss would raise her shrill voice to ask how my report- which wasn’t even due until 2pm-was going. I yell again (politely) about the internet difficulties I have been facing all morning, and curse some more under my breath.
Its 12pm. Lunch time! Phew! I’m quick to grab my purse, beats by dre in-plugs and decide to run some banking errands. GTB on Tiamiyu Savage is barely 5 mins away with their courteous security doors and officers, who leave me with a smile every time I leave the premises. I easily and quickly sort out my new internet banking, and head back to the office.
With Josh Woodward’s ‘I wanna destroy something beautiful’ playing in my ears, I pass by a salon car parked under a tree with scanty leaves. The tree provided little or no shade that my wandering eye couldn’t help but notice the occupant of the car. He was apparently the driver, 8″ cork in hand (yea! He was that endowed) covered in pre cum, and wanking his way to an orgasm. Did I mention it was on a hot monday afternoon, on an ever busy Olosa street, with the car windows down, and a stone throw from a church too?
It took me a few days to get that unsightly image out of my head. I still could not help but wonder how and why an adult male could not control his libido or better still, seek privacy somewhere. I shake my head for manhood. Not until I shared the story with some girlfriends, that they all started relating their own experiences.
Jane and Joke shared their ‘danfo’ wankers story. Jane narrated how she boarded a bus to CMS and as usual got engrossed with her blackberry. She noticed the guy by her side kept moving towards her, that their knees and shoulders touched. She didn’t take notice of his hands in between his legs until he kept nudging her. Only then did she notice the guy cuming all over his tailor pants and messing himself up that 9am. And yes, he was neatly dressed for work too and she was covered up in a suit. So tell me, what such a young man would tell his colleagues and boss at the office? “I spilled water or youghurt on my way to work?”
Joke tells how she caught sight of an elderly man (say in his 50s) who was seated beside her that night. Even though the danfo was dimly lit, she could still make out figures of the man, head bent and hands struggling in between his legs. He wore a traditional sewn top and trousers with elastic bands-which gave him easy access to his member. He didn’t mind that he was surrounded by people, this man masturbated until he ejaculated on his hands. Still looking from the corner of her eyes, she saw him wipe his hands on a handkerchief which he then raised to his mouth.
Joke didn’t know when she began shouting “O wa! O wa!!” Even though they were on the expressway. She yelled for the driver to stop and everybody in the bus including the man gave her a ‘raised eyebrow’ look.
You can call it relieving your sexual desire, (in a moving bus too?) but I call it pathetic. How men let themselves go, just for a few minutes of urges, which they get over (as quickly as it came) and are left with wanker’s remorse and plenty evidence to clean off.
At least Mary’s boss does so in the privacy of his bathroom. She says she has heard his moans, one too many times, when she came in to drop files and steal chocolates. No! There were no females in his office, except she appeared or crept through the 9th floor window.
A certain Man of God has confirmed that “masturbation is not a sin”, but does that now leave you to doing it in public? Or just like the rush some cheating husbands get, or the rush I get when the aircraft is about to take off, or the rush my 4 year old cousin gets from candies and chocolates, so I too must think that there is some kind of rush for men to masturbate in public. Or are they letting their urges take a better part of them?
For those who have no way out, or are simply dependent/addicted to masturbation, then get yourselves (you, your hands and lube) a room. Is there more to masturbation than meets the eye?
Written By Nkechi Opurum