Sugar Daddy Chronicles (Erotica) #9 By @Tomilola_coco

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Sugar Daddy chronicles

Hey guys, I saw all the comments on the last post. Are you people cool or what? I should blackmail you with more episodes more often. Haha. Love you guys. So I cannot post more than one today but we would have the other I should have posted earlier today, tomorrow. See you then.


Is he in love with you?

The question LJP asked me the night we arrived in Dubai and AKT took the role of Segun Arinze resounded in my ears.

I had told LJP I did not think so but I did know, AKT was and always had been in love with me.
I had actually exploited it in the past, like that one time I made him sell his own phone to buy me a new phone.

Oh please, save the insults and your opinions entirely. It was hundred percent a suggestion that came from him.

And who was I to tell him not to bother?

I had been horrible to him in the past and yet, he just always came through.

I looked at him one last time as he found his way to his car outside MMIA when we landed in Nigeria and my heart sank at how badly I had sometimes treated him.

I was an idiot.

I pushed my trolley further down the arrival lounge and navigated through the crowd, looking for my mechanic.

I had sent him a message from Dubai and told him to pick me up at the Airport.

Yesterday, after I returned to the Hotel, I had been livid. Especially when LJP tied me to the post, clasped my nipples with some iron things I still had to look up to know the name and fucked me mercilessly.

I had not said anything, I had simply booked a flight and without telling him, flown out of Dubai on the same plane with AKT who wouldn’t look at me, talk less of speaking to me.

LJP had gone to meet with some of his Dubai contacts and I had left without telling him.

As I sighted my Mechanic and put my things in the booth of my car, I wondered what he was going to do when he found out I was gone.

He could import Carmen Ho to Naija.

Both of them could explore each other’s bodies and sexual fantasies all they wanted that way.

Some old Wasiu music was playing on the radio when I got into the car, I nodded absentmindedly to the slow fuji tune.

I was doing what I normally wouldn’t do.

Where the fuck had I gotten the strength to work out on a Sugar Daddy who was worth millions and could potentially give me millions?

And what the heck did I think I was doing?

If Cherokee kicked me out of the house, where would I go? I couldn’t even afford to rent an apartment on the Island with my current account balance.

The money I booked a flight with had been borrowed from a cousin last night and knowing who she was, she was going to drag me if I dared not return it in the two days I promised.

Kofo was not one to joke with her money. She was my cousin on my mom’s side, had spent half of her life in Ibadan and she was as Yoruba-ish and Ibadan-ish as they came.

She once packed thugs from Lagos Island all the way to an ex’s house in Ikeja GRA to beat him up.

Oh no kidding.

She had been dating the boy since she was in secondary school, he was her first and even though I thought he was too shady, Kofo swore she was in love with him and only he would she marry.

And she stuck with that promise, even when he cheated on her once right after she aborted his baby and when he once denied her in public.

She was a ride or die – she just kept riding the dick and dying in stupidity.

See, it was what I told her. It was what I believed ride or die meant.

Nobody should ride or die for anybody. Human beings should not be trusted.

I did not trust myself with some decisions I took sometimes, so why trust someone else? It just did not make sense.

Anyway, Kofo trusted this her shady bobo and basically gave him everything.

One day, she went to a party with her friend and some old money bag started chasing her.

Kofo was beautiful, big boobs, curvy body, big ass and a flawless skin. And no, she was not fair. I hate those people who attribute beauty only to light skinned girls.

I’m not an advocate of dark skinned girls or anything, I just think it sounds retarded that some guys would say only girls with light skins were worth their time.

It is always funny when broke guys make the statement too.

Like who the heck told you that someone like me who did not have a light skin wanted to fuck your broke ass? Like do I look like I would hop on your broke dick?

Let me get back to the story, I’m already sounding pissed.

Anyway, the old money bag chased the hell out of Kofo’s life and one time, he sent the most expensive gifts to her room in school while she was at a lecture.

He bought her a car, bought her labels, bought her everything all in a bid to convince her to be his Sugar baby.

Kofo was confused, she did want the money but she did not know what to do.

And because she would not cheat on her boyfriend, she never took the man seriously.

But one day, shady bobo heard and confronted Kofo.

Then after she told him everything, he told her he had a plan; Kofo could fuck the man but she would take all his money and they would use it to plan a future.

I was appalled when I heard it. I told Kofo it was a bad idea but with that asshole, she did not think at all.

Years after, Kofo suddenly saw shady bobo IMing some other chic on his phone. When she confronted him, he said he liked the new chic and he was serious with her.

According to him, he could not get over the fact that Kofo actually screwed that old money bag.

Kofo did not say anything. I remember her coming to my house past midnight and not even talking much.

The next morning, she was gone before I woke up.

What I heard next still makes me shiver till this day, Kofo had hired thugs, taken them to his house and made noodles in the kitchen while they beat the shit out of him in the house.

Then she had them drive him to the Hospital, took his car back to his house, cleared it of all his valuables and handed it over to the thugs.

No, this was not even a movie.

My cousin did that.

So do you see why I don’t want to owe her money?
Cherokee was in my house when I got there. The idiot would not go away, he was like a fly on an open wound.

He was inside the house, watching an old movie in the sitting room when I walked in.

I did not say anything to him, I just walked into the room and had a warm bath.

He was waiting for me in the bedroom when I returned some minutes later.

“I’m leaving the country next week” He said.

I shrugged. How was his travel plans my business? Was I the compass the Pilot needed to find his way?

“I am not renewing the rent of this place.”

My heart skipped several beats but I guess I already knew that.

“If you have decided to leave then I guess you leave me no choice.”

Again, I was silent.

If he was hoping to get a response out of me then he was more stupid than I thought.

He paused, watched me for a long time and gauged my expression as if trying to deduce why I had chosen to keep mute.

He was slow, really slow because if he wasn’t he would have known why I had no words for him.

“Have a nice life.” He said and turned around.

And again, I was silent.

I heard the front door close, his car engine come to life and the gate open some minutes later and I knew he was gone.

I slumped into the bed, my eyes on the ceiling above me.

I was not sure what I was going to do next. I felt like I was trapped in a small box and I did not have the means to get out.

I needed help, I needed someone, I needed to not be alone.

I stood and walked to my closet. Reaching for a floral maxi dress that had a slit that rode up my thighs, I decided that I knew where to go.

The Lekki – Ikoyi bridge was a sight to behold at night. I sometimes consciously drove through it just to witness the beauty of it – the light illuminating the bridge, the aesthetic effect caused by the reflection of the light on the water below, the picturesque effect car lights generously bestowed upon the bridge when they lined up to pay at the Toll.

It was breathtaking, sometimes even surreal and I loved it. I loved to look at it, to be a part of it and to take it all in.

I sped along once I got off the bridge and wondered how I would have reacted if Cherokee decided to throw me out and take the car he bought me.

I chuckled.

I would have asked for those Lagos Island boys’ number from Kofo and have them steal my car back for me.

Because there was no way I was letting go of anything he bought for me.

I worked my ass off for everything, literally.

I was in AKT’s house in seconds and I asked Pueto Rican help for him immediately I stepped in.
AKT was home, he had always been home.

He was the one I truly needed to keep so I could feel better.

I was not saying we were going to date or anything but I was also saying I wanted him.

I wanted him close to me and with me. I wanted to be a better person than I had always been.

Now that he had money, that should not be hard.

He was shocked to see me when he emerged from the Kitchen some minutes earlier, clad in an apron.

“What are you doing here, Kaycee?” He asked and the coldness in his voice made the AC in the room seem useless.

It was okay for him to be this way. I had it coming. I had treated him like shit for over five years. He was only being human.

But we could try one last time? He coud give me the chance?

I sighed. How could I not have seen AKT for the good man he was?

When he was telling me at the beach the day before how he had won a lottery and then gotten lucky he had been promoted at work because of his immediate bosses’ failed fraud attempt, I had blamed myself for not waiting the few months he took him to gather all he had now put together.

“Kaycee, you cannot be here.”

I frowned. Okay, he could be mad but he couldn’t be this mad.

What the heck was wrong with him and why was he looking nervous like that?

My answer came a few seconds later, a light skinned woman with the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen and who reminded me instantly of Lola Omotayo, emerged from the kitchen, an apron tied to her waist.

She looked from AKT to me and I only looked at her.

She was beautiful, her jet black hair cascaded down her shoulders and her skin glowed under the flourescent lights.

She was waiting for AKT to say something and at this point, I was too.

“Kaycee, meet my wife Adele.” He turned to Adele and said, “That’s the Kaycee I always told you about.”

Adele faced me and smiled, a smile that failed to move past her lips, a smile that was fake.

And it was only when she stretched out her hand for a handshake that I saw her hands and looked a little more closely at her, she might be beautiful and have that glowing skin but she did look a little bit aged.

She was older than him. Wow.

Wait, he had a Sugar Mommy and I was not allowed to have a Sugar Daddy?

Sugar Daddy Chronicles



Content Writer|Screenwriter|Coke Addict|Feminist|Amala Activist|Future Hero. Twitter&Instagram @Tomilola_coco


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