Two weeks had passed since Afosua had seen Tony. She was surprised at how frequently her thoughts had turned to him in the days since she had unceremoniously dropped him off at the corner and driven off. Unaccustomed to this new sensation, she decided to seek him out.
It would be easy enough to find him. All she had to do was show up at New Spirit International Church, which although was a house of worship was now hostile territory for her. Still, she had to investigate and resolve this new infatuation.
“I’ll be taking a long lunch today,” Afosua informed Gertrude. “If anyone is looking for me, they can always reach me on my BB.”
“I’ll let them know,” Gertrude said absently. She was pouring over a stack of reports that one of the analysts had dropped on her desk.
Afosua had become more and more impressed with Gertrude. She was taking a real interest in the company and looking for ways to involve herself in work outside of her receptionist duties. Afosua recognized this, and hoped that the other managers had – or would soon – as well.
The drive through Accra traffic was uncommonly smooth. New Spirit was located in Dzorwulu and she had anticipated a great deal of traffic. Perhaps luck was on her side. Perhaps the smooth ride was a metaphor for good things to come.
She pulled her car into a vacant spot near the front of the door of the mega church. The high stone archway seemed imposing and not very welcoming. The gardens that surrounded the exterior were well kept and pleasing to the eye, but the whole aura seemed very forced and artificial.
A lot like Naa Akweley, Afosua thought as she swung the heavy glass doors open.
A pretty receptionist greeted Afosua as she walked in. Her coal black shoulder length weave barely moved as she spoke.
“Welcome to New Spirit International Church,” she slurred with a fake American accent. “How ken I hulp yew?”
Afosua was immediately amused by the girl’s employment of a LAFA. She couldn’t begrudge the child for wanting to appear exotic in a country where the establishment values conformity.
“Good afternoon,” Afosua returned. “I’m looking for the church accountant, Mr. Tony…”
Afosua froze, realizing she didn’t even know his last name. She was surprised that she hadn’t taken the time to research him better. What was going on with her?
Afosua swung around and was confronted by the hulking frame of Ian Blankson, senior pastor of the church.
“Yes,” she smiled with relief. “Mr. Coffie.”
Ian Blankson’s eyes roved all over her body. She couldn’t determine if he wanted to eat her or toy with her. Whatever his intentions, Afosua recognized a predator when she met one. She shifted her weight so that she stood taller and more confident.
“He doesn’t work here,” Ian informed her.
“Oh. I see.”
Afosua’s heart sank. Her brief tryst had cost Tony his job, and she was truly sorry for it.
“Mr. Coffie has his own accountancy practice,” Ian continued. “He contracts with the church. We don’t employ him.”
“Oh. I see!”
“Come into my office and I’ll give you all his details,” Ian purred invitingly.
Afosua didn’t know much about this man, but she had the feeling that she didn’t want to be behind closed doors with him, and certainly not alone.
“I’m sure your receptionist can give me all the information I need,” she said in rebuff. “That is her job after all, is it not?”
“It is indeed. Mary, please give the lady whatever she needs.”
He turned on the ball of his foot and padded into the sanctuary like beast in search of its next victim. Afosua caught Mary’s eye as she stared adoringly at the retreating back of her pastor…or possible paramour.
“The number if you will.”
“Yels. Herrrr yew are mademe,” Mary yawned.
Afosua wished her a good day and left. If nothing else, she had succeeded in getting a good laugh at Mary’s expense and an even better lesson: Ian Blankson was not a man to be trusted. Something about the man was just not right.
Annette ran to the driver’s side of her car and sped off as quickly as she could. She was supposed to be accompanying her husband to a luncheon with his colleagues. Mr. Prah was finally retiring and his company was feting him with a leaving party. The man should have retired ages ago, but he was such a control freak that he could not let go of the reins of power.
Annette was still tingling from where Sophia had spent the late morning playing with her. What was supposed to be an innocent morning looking over designs for a new dress turned into a passionate encounter with Annette straddled on Sophia’s lap, her fingers stroking her clitoris until she climaxed again and again. The thought of it excited her even more. As she bolted into the door, she hoped the smell of sex did not betray her.
“You’re late,” scolded Mr. Prah coldly.
“Darling! I’m so sorry. I was delayed…”
Mr. Prah cut her off.
“Go upstairs and get dressed at once,” he commanded. “Your hair looks a mess. Fix that too.”
The moment the words left his mouth, a sudden thought occurred to him. That little tramp!
“Wait, Annette,” said Mr. Prah, striding purposefully towards her. He grabbed her by the wrist and whipped her around.
“I may be old, but I’m not stupid. Whoever this other man is, end it now. I will not share you with another man, and I damn well won’t care for his bastard. I’ll see you in the street before I do!”
Annette turned and faced her husband and spoke to him sincerely and sweetly.
“Darling. I promise you: There IS no other man. There is no other man in my life but you.”
He looked directly in her almond brown eyes. He saw no deceit. He relaxed the grip on her arm.
“Go get dressed,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I was so hard with you.”
“Forgive me,” she said, kissing his wrinkled hand. “It was my fault for being late. Let me rush quickly so that we won’t be so late, okay?”
He sent her on her way, patting her soft buttocks and watching it jiggle wantonly as she ran up the stairs. His erection was snuffed as quickly as it sprung. Going after her to the bedroom would only frustrate him more. Mr. Prah called the driver around and waited for his wife to join him in the back seat, where he could fondle her to his heart’s content. His colleagues would recognize the scent of her sweet pussy on his hands and they’d all be jealous. He chuckled gleefully at the thought and settled in the plush leather seat of his vehicle.
7 comments On Afosua The Series: Beggars & Choosers
I’d like it to c how things develop between Afosua and Toni… This Mr Prah is a very funny man, he’s still thinking abt making ppl jealous…. I really feel sorry 4 Annette, i mean, she has to endure the touch of a wrinkled oldman she has no feelings for n she is not even into men
Mr. Prah, is a goat! First off all, his wrinkled self is such a turnoff, secondly, why is he using such a condescending tone with Annette?! I mean, I don’t care whether my husband is Methuselah’s age-but he should know damn well if I married him we are EQUALS-no ifs, or buts!
This Annette, girl is suffering oo….I would not be seen with such a man in public. Ewwww, at him showing affection when out in public. I would D.I.E. on the spot.
I like Afosua. She has BISH tendencies, but nonetheless a go-getter. Get em!
Abena, my dear you are doing a fab job reeling me into this madness!
Your description of Mary’s accent is hilarious! looking forward to more.
Haha!! Have you ever encountered a person with an unbearable LAFA and wanted to burst into laughter in their face? This was my opportunity to do so! 🙂
Welcome to my web my dearies! It’s going to get bigger and stickier before all is said and done.
I’m looking 4ward 2 it
What’s a LAFA? and ‘Yelz’ is cracking me up!
‘LAFA’ = locally acquired foreign accent 🙂