“Oh yes, Da. I understand. And I’m not happy myself with all these things that get in the way. I really am not. But I’m certain that this new date we’ve settled on will be the final one. Then all this wahala can come to an end…”
Sampson Addai walked around his office, his phone to his ear as he listened to an understandably concerned Mr. Anang, who was expressing his doubt over the new date being settled upon as the wedding day. He walked over to the window, where he could check out his favourite view: the smaller buildings, the cars looking like ants from that view… having their main office on the 13th floor of the Heritage Towers was definitely a blessing for him.
He had always dreamed of making it big in business. From his youth, Sampson was not the kind of person who enjoyed the thought of having to work for another person. His desire was to be in charge of his own company, calling the shots and being the boss. So when he met a Lebanese guy in university, Ayman Moussafa, who had spent literally his whole life in Ghana and possessed the same ambitions as him, it wasn’t long before they became good friends and constantly brainstormed on what would get them to the top.
In their final year, one night of sharing ideas led to the life-changing suggestion by Ayman: why don’t we venture into the transport sector?
Sampson loved the idea, and quickly they began to put ideas together and make plans.
Seven years later, and Asanaba Transport was now a staple of the transport business, and the two co-owners were wealthy men. Their risky venture had paid off very well, and their dreams had come true, as they now oversaw many employees and called the shots, as had been the epicenter of their many daydreams.
Now that he had it all, what was left was a wife to come home to.
And that’s where Adjeley came in. The lovely former private school teacher he had set his eyes upon and knew she was the one.
It took all of one and a half years to make things official and get the engagement done. That was followed by the purchase of their current home at Koly Estates, and he had convinced her to give up her job, assuring her he had everything under control and all she needed to do was sit back and enjoy being a wealthy businessman’s wife.
As he spoke to her father that afternoon, the major concern was whether he was going to finally complete what he had started.
The truth was, inasmuch as he had commitments holding him back and forcing him to postpone, he felt a little too relaxed about it. Having Adjeley in his house and all made it feel like it was already official in a way. With the way the Anang household was starting to get impatient, however, it looked like he had to do what needed to be done.
He nodded as Mr. Anang went on and on, keeping his eyes occupied by the sights of busy Accra streets as his ears dealt with his “in-law’s” grievances. After about 3 minutes, he finally managed to speak. “Da, I understand you perfectly. That’s why I’m going to work right on it. This year won’t end with the same. Believe me on that.”
As Mr. Anang expressed satisfaction with his words, he nodded, waiting for the man to complete his little blessing. After murmuring a couple of Amens, he said, “Alright, Sir. Later, then. Bye bye.”
He sighed and ran his hand over his gradually balding head. At this rate, he had to make good on his promise. The old man’s displeasure was pretty much a reflection of how the family felt. And Adjeley herself seemed moody and tired of the waiting period.
“Well, let’s see what the Lord will do,” he said to himself as he resumed his seat and went back to checking up on some e-mails.
“Well, it has been quite a long time. I can’t blame him,” Ayman said, comfortably strapped in the passenger seat. “I’ll do my part and convince Mr. Heymann to let me alone be the representative at the conference. If anything at all, I’ll let Asabea go with me. This is important too.”
“Mm-hmm,” Sampson hummed in agreement. The day was over, and Ayman was hitching a ride with him. His partner had left his car at the mechanic’s place since the previous day, so he was dropping him off at the workshop, having been informed that his car was ready for pickup.
They had been informed of an upcoming conference which was being held at the period Sampson was considering the wedding, and Ayman, who had witnessed him make all those postponements, was insistent that this date had to be the fulfillment of the promise.
“You’re ready for this, aren’t you, though?” Ayman asked, looking intently at him.
His eyes fixed on the road, Sampson nodded. “Of course, man, of course. It’s been long overdue, and that woman is marriage material, so chale, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
“Oh yeah, no two ways about that. You’ve got the perfect woman in Naa Adjeley. Chale, lock her down before the year ends. No more slacking. Get your Mrs. Addai and be satisfied with her, na life is too short.”
Sampson snickered to himself, the statement about being satisfied rather amusing to him.
A further ten minutes of random talks about employees and clients, and the workshop was in sight. Time for Ayman to alight.
Arriving at the workshop, Sampson parked by the roadside as Ayman requested. Unbuckling his seat belt, Ayman opened the door and stepped out. Closing the door, he poked his head in. “Alright, chale, thanks for the ride. My regards to Adjeley. You’re going straight home, right?”
Sampson shook his head. “Nah. I have some other stuff to attend to.”
Suspicion took over, as Ayman’s light face grew dark. Eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed, he asked, “Other stuff? Uh, Sampson, please don’t tell me you’re- “
“See you later, Ayman!” Sampson interjected, using the window switch to sack Ayman as he lifted it up with his index finger, turning the traffic indicator on and moving back onto the busy road.
He knew a lecture was right on the tip of Ayman’s tongue, but he had no time for that. What mattered was the ‘other stuff’ he had to attend to.
The ‘other stuff’ in question was a young lady in a private university he had come across on the dating site, Badoo. Spellbound by her nubile pictures, he had immediately hit her up, expressing interest in getting with her. As he drove to the university, this was going to be their second time meeting.
“Like I already said: a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” he said to himself. “Of course, that prude of a partner wouldn’t understand. But chale, forget him. Too much meat around to be locked down to just one. We move!”
He drove to the car park, where he saw her.
In a wine tank top and tight denim shorts, waiting for him as she busily pressed her expensive-looking iPhone.
Driving over to where she stood, he licked his lips in anticipation. Damn, look at those juicy thighs, he thought as he arrived at her side, unlocking the door. She immediately opened the door and got in.
“Good evening, Mr. Sampson,” she murmured, nodding as she crossed her legs.
He nodded back, eyes more focused on her thighs. He looked pretty eager to get naughty as soon as he possibly could.
“You know a different dark side around here where we can do our thing?” he asked in a low voice.
She nodded. “There’s some garden with an almost abandoned car park around here. A lot of people get busy over there. Let’s go; I’ll give you the directions.”
“Sweet. Lord knows I can’t wait to have a taste of this,” he responded, his hand reaching to squeeze her thigh. She smirked in response as he put his car in reverse, ready to move of the parking spot and head to the garden and get down and dirty with her.
“Hi honey. How was your day?” Sampson said, giving Adjeley a kiss on the cheek as she walked to him after closing the gate.
“Hmmmm, same ol same ol. Boring.”
“Awww, I can imagine. You know, there’s a tentative date your father and I settled on. I’ll talk to you about it. It’s about the best date possible, and trust me, it’s gonna be the final date. No disappointments this time. None at all.”
Adjeley looked interested, albeit not with a lot of excitement. She had heard this a few times before, only to be disappointed, so she wasn’t very moved this time around. “Oh really?”
“Yes! Yes. I promise you, we’ll talk about it. But right now, I need to get to the loo ASAP.”
She shook her head as he headed for the front door quickly. “You and your love for the porcelain throne,” she called to him in amusement, eliciting a brief grin from him.
Getting to the bathroom, he placed himself comfortably on the seat after pulling his pants down. Taking out his Galaxy 9 phone from his pocket, he plugged his earphones in as he switched to WhatsApp and downloaded a video sent to him.
After having a brief but exhilarating period with Asieduwaa in the garden, he had been sent a 1 minute video he had been promised about a week ago. Having enjoyed himself then, he decided to hold on till he got home. Now it was time to check it out.
Pressing play, a shot of excitement burst through his veins as his eyes beheld a video of a topless young lady, showing off her rather big uncovered assets proudly in the most raunchy manner possible as she slurred dirty stuff about them.
He shook his head, overdosing on testosterone-fuelled excitement as he enjoyed the scene of the young lady playing with herself. He was enjoying himself with this lewd recording.
“God, I love your juicy melons! Turns me on so bad!” he muttered as he typed out those words to the sender.
A response came.
🙈🙈🙈 Thank you, Dzaddyyyyyyy!! Anything for you…
So as has been revealed, Mr. Sampson is a slut. And a pretty shameless one at that! Let’s wait and see what happens next…