#5DaysToVals Contest Entry – Submitted by Samuel Ogechukwu
“If Nnenna is the subject in the sentence ‘Nnenna fought Umah’, what is the object?” her voice rang out.
She glared at the direction of the voice, it was the boy nuisance again who loved speaking out of turn. No matter how many times she warned him, he always seemed to want her attention.
“Come and kneel down here. Stephen, get me cane,” she ordered. Stephen ran off to go get the cane.
“beht aunty, it’s lovers’ day nau,” the lanky boy crooned.
She ignored him. “Yes? Anybody with the answer?”
“Aunty, what is object?” the smallest boy in the class asked.
“Object is something, stupid boy, non-living things,” another boy answered, sneaking a look at the exasperated teacher as he did so.
The teacher, on the verge of exploding, looked around for help. Uzoamaka was raising her hand.
“The object is Umah.”
“Why is Umah the object?”
“Because he received the action.”
“Good, Umah is at the end of the action, that is why he is the object. Some of you have fancy designs as ears, no matter how many explanations I give, you simply push it out.” she glared at the boy kneeling down. “Ikechukwu, as a punishment for speaking out of turn in my class for the umpteenth time…”
“Upteeth, aunty asuolaya” Aunty has spoken it, a stick figure of a boy interrupted.
“Idiot, it’s not Upteeth, it’s umpteenth,” Ebere, a fair girl corrected with disgust crawling across her face.
“Silence!” The teacher screamed. “This is just JSS two and you’re already far gone in stupidity like this. What will happen in the SS classes?”
A few snickers were heard here and there, and the teacher resolved in her mind to punish Ikechukwu. She took the cane from Stephen.
“Gimme your palms.”
The whole class relaxed and sat back to watch the teacher struggle to inflict pain on one of the class’ toughest boy. The teacher was beautiful in a delicate way; well manicured fingers, nicely made up elfin face, soft eyes that couldn’t glare for the life of them, a dainty body with an hourglass figure that impeded progress in her class, and the lightest of skins.
Kpawai! The cane landed on Ikechukwu’s hand and the confused boy didn’t know where the scream he heard was coming from. Kpawai! Another stroke, this time at the back as he rubbed his scorched palm. He yelped in pain. If there was a better time to understand oxymoron, it was now; the boy yelped and shouted and pleaded, while the whole class became absolutely quiet. Three strokes later, the dismissal bell was rung and the beautiful teacher left the class in the wake of a new light of respect in the students’ eyes. She didn’t have time to savour it, for she was in a hurry to get home where Chika would be waiting for her. They had plans for this lovers’ day.
She was home in about thirty minutes and rushed into Chika’s arms.
“Baby, how are you?” she asked.
“How did you manage it?”
“Manage to come out.” She struggled out of her shoes, sat on the bed and pulled her shirt over her head. Chika watched her. She caught his eyes.
“Answer me,” she said and threw a shoe at him.
“Erm, well, I told them the usual.”
“Which one is the usual?” she asked, her soft eyes on him as she struggled with her bra’s buckle.
“Here, lemme help you.” Chika got behind her and she instinctively knew they were going to be late to whatever they were going for. He unbuckled the bra, then slid his hand around her and squeezed her breasts. She sighed and arced her back longingly against him. Turning around, she took his lips in hers, mesmerizing him to a state of madness as her tongue darted in and out of his mouth. He slid his hands down her firm buttocks and squeezed, before he made it into her panties. She tore his shirt off him and slipped her hands into his trousers. She fondled what she found down there and a gasp escaped his mouth. Not to be outdone, he sank his teeth softly into her tit, then suckled the hardened tit. Then he left his tongue travel around her boobs to sink into the valley between them. She shivered with pleasure, then she pushed him unto the bed, tore his trousers off him and straddled him. She let him into her, riding his manhood like a tigress who couldn’t get enough.
After, when they both were exhausted, her phone rang. She picked it.
“Anulika, are you at home. I’ve waited here for almost one hour.” a peeved male voice said.
“Jesus.” The line went dead. She looked at the caller ID: Chika. She gazed at the bed, there was no Chika.