“What do you think?” Nkakad asked Ikpa as one of the guys escorted Shaggy and Java out of the forest.
Ikpa shrugged still maintaining his usual stony demeanor, “It’s a great deal, after all, he’ll be paying for an operation you’d already been planning.”
Nkakad grinned, “Yes, now I know how much our proprietor is really worth,” he muttered and relaxed in his crudely hammered arm chair, he almost could not believe his luck.
The next three weeks became a blur of plans, strategies and re-strategizing and the unmistakable weight of guilt that caused Java sleepless nights.
He’d been glad that King Edem’s steward, an old, inconspicuous man with eyes of hard intelligence had visited his house to meet the crew and at the end, the old man had simply transferred seven hundred thousand into his account with the promise of the rest when Morgan had been caught.
Java had no idea what the balance would be but he refused to mention the initial payment’s full mount to Nkakad, he needed to have some leverage too no matter how insignificant it might seem.
Shaggy had suggested that Java’s house be used since it was more centralized and outskirt enough to be a base of operation. Essentially because it had more rooms and it was technically a cul-de-sac, separated from neighbors on both sides, which meant less prying eyes and suspicion.
The old man had quietly met the crew and Shaggy, being the loquacious one and honestly, the one that knew everyone, had introduced everybody…everybody that Nkakad had assembled.
There were eight guys; Nkakad and Ikpa, the obvious one and two of the crew. There was Rake, a guy skinny enough for his name to be apt; Darky, another apt name; then Drogba, Zed, Taurus, Hitler and Smoke Smokey.
Java had never thought the old man steward would say anything from the aloof stance he’d maintained since entering his house; he probably thought the crew were scums of the earth. But then he was scum too, since he worked for King Edem.
But at the mention of the last guy’s name, Smoke Smokey, the old man had chuckled unexpectedly, drawing the gaze of everyone present, then he coughed self consciously and pinned Smoke Smokey with a steady stare.
“Is that like a name and surname, Smoke Smokey?” and then he laughed at his own joke.
At first everyone just stared in shock at the old man who seemed really cracked up about the name, and well, in Java’s opinion, his question was a valid one, so he joined the laugh and not long the crew joined in too, even Smoke Smokey wasn’t left out.
Smoke Smokey was generally called Smokey though.
Apart from Nkakad and Ikpa whom Java thought deserved their leadership roles by the sheer obviousness of their venal charisma, the rest of the guys were just normal looking, next door neighbor guys.
Shaggy had graciously filled him in on all their characters and quirks; Drobga was a chronic womanizer, he recalled he’d been the one picking feathers from the chicken when they’d visited their camp in the forest. He didn’t look like a womanizer, but then these things weren’t written on people’s faces.
Smokey had probably been named twice with a variety of the same name because it was obvious he couldn’t stop smoking. Shaggy analyzed that Smokey smoked that much because he didn’t want to be part of the venal crew, but leaving would be detrimental to his life, and so he smoked as a form of escapism. Java thought Smokey would surely escape the crew through death when his lungs collapsed.
Zed, Rake, Darky and Hitler were foot soldiers, the mindless muscles that followed orders without thought. They were mostly glad to be part of a crew because it made them feel important and feared among their peers. They lived to impress the Alpha, Nkakad, and would probably sacrifice themselves to show loyalty just to earn bragging rights.
Then there was Taurus; Shaggy said Taurus was a mercenary through and through. He had no loyalty for his crew and would sell out everybody if it’d be profitable. Java had wondered why he was still part of the crew and Shaggy had shrugged, saying Nkakad probably hadn’t noticed that trait in Taurus.
And then Java had silently wondered why Shaggy hadn’t shared this insight with Nkakad. He didn’t really understand the dynamics of Shaggy’s relationship with Nkakad, but he was glad that he had some sway in the decision making and he wasn’t as brutal as the Alpha.
It was almost clinical how on point he’d been in his character analysis, it almost seemed like he’d been purposely studying them for a while.
Which could be true, Shaggy was all friendly and always eating, he generally looked unserious and carefree. But these few weeks they’d been forced to work together, Java saw that the guy had quite a keen mind behind his casual attitude.
He had so many times been responsible for steering the plans designed to be extremely brutal on the victim to mild and Java had been grateful to have him on his side; because, even though he wanted to get back at Udo Ebenezer and get his inheritance back, he really didn’t want to hurt anybody.
Though he had no idea how he was going to assure the victims weren’t hurt and at the same time, make their predicament serious enough to make the news for King Edem’s sake and at the end of the day, escape the police net.
It seemed impossible and when he’d shared his worry, Shaggy had told him not to worry. Curbing his worry was easier said than done.
Cyril Ndon aka Udo Ebenezer couldn’t believe that a spry, little thing like his three month old office assistant could get his blood pumping so hot with excitement, he was temporarily dismissing the idea of a new con job for thrills.
He was thrilled enough in this whole new world and she wasn’t even doing it for the money; his heart thumped at that realization.
The previous day, she had walked into his office, after weeks of giving him come hither eyes, she had locked his office door and smiled when he’d tried sounding stern with her.
And then she’d pouted like a teenager, looking at him through her lashes and unbuttoning her shirt.
“What are you doing?” he’d asked in a husky voice, while his eyes fixedly followed the movement of her hands on those buttons.
“I want you to punish me for being bad,” she said in a child’s voice and he had almost come in his pants from the sound of it.
Cyril was more excited because of the possibility, the danger of being caught. His third leg had gotten so hard the feeling was almost reminiscent of when he succeeded in a con.
Uka was small and slim but had the boobs of a bigger woman and quite a flat bottom. She usually dressed in tight, tiny shirts that hugged her giant breasts, exposing a lot of cleavage with buttons straining above the heaving bosom as though they’d pop if she took a deep breath.
She had not hid her interest in Cyril from the moment she’d walked into his office for an interview. And it was good timing for him since he’d become marginally bored and tired of his girlfriend’s nagging.
Abigail had been among the first teachers interviewed for his school. She was smart and though she’d been employed as a teacher, her ideas had basically brought the school to the glorified standard it presently maintained.
Abigail technically ran the school, she knew everybody from the staff to parents and she related with them with a poise and class that couldn’t be faked.
Their relationship had stemmed from late nights at the school during the fresh admission period. They’d worked good together and Cyril being the con man that he was, had thought to have a relationship with her would keep her invested in his school, he didn’t want another school stealing her and so he’d upped his game and made her the principal of his school.
It didn’t matter that she was young, it mattered that she was qualified in Educational Management and she was overly competent.
There was no doubt that he had liked her then, but recently, he’d wanted more. Abigail had gotten so comfortable in the relationship she was more like a wife than a girlfriend. She had seemed appalled when Cyril had suggested they get naughty in his office during and or after school hours.
Her refusal over time had been vehement and he’d realized she was a prude. Despite that, she ran the school well and he’d persevered in the relationship until she’d started nagging about the inconspicuous inflations he’d added to the school fees each term.
He didn’t understand why it bothered her so much. It was his school after all and he would do whatever he damned well pleased; he would do whatever lined his pockets with gold.
Cyril might have been looking for cover for his past but that cover better be profitable or there wouldn’t be any use for it in the first place.
She should have been happy since those tiny inflations invariably resulted in her salary increase. They were in the first weeks of their fifth term since the creation of the school. Though it was a small school, he had noticed that there were more and more parents defecting from supposedly big schools each term to Ahead nursery/primary school.
Since a certain number of pupils were fixed for each class, some parents had taken to booking for admissions for the next term; those parents were willing to pay anything.
The parents weren’t complaining. They were wise and they realized the quality education their kids were getting and the extra services that allowed parents enjoy some convenience.
Angrily, Cyril shook his head, wondering how he had moved from thinking about suffocating in Uka’s boobs yesterday, while he’d pumped into her with her naked buttock branding his proprietorial desk, to worrying about Abigail’s recent contrariness.
Just the thought of her had killed his excited buzz. He had nothing doing at the moment, classes were presently ongoing and he had no outstanding appointments.
Cyril’s heart thumped as he recalled their naughtiness. He knew he should be more careful but he was eager to have more than the vanilla sex that Abigail offered; cheating on her with call-girls hadn’t been able to erase the boring effect of their sex life.
What if someone walked in? Then he scoffed at the idea, they had been at it for more than thirty minutes yesterday and they’d not been caught. It was his office after all, anybody would knock and wait for his prompt before entering and he could easily hide Uka in the toilet.
He grinned coyly, having found solutions to perceived problems, he reached for the intercom button, the two way to his office assistant, sitting right outside his door.
“Miss Ituen,” he spoke into the intercom.
“Yes, sir,” she replied alertly, her voice sounding more husky through the static of the two way.
“I need my little girl right now,” he teased in a lowered voice and was glad to hear her giggle.
“Okay, sir,” her second reply wasn’t as officious as the first one, she made her voice extra desirous and Cyril grinned, enjoying the instant lengthening of his erection.
“Come now,” he said, and cut the connection. His hands unbuckled his belt and he reached into his boxers to pull out his hardened length, rubbing it from base to tip in preparation for his feisty office assistant.
Uka Ituen cackled when the intercom connection disconnected. Months of work was finally coming to fruition. She pressed the intercom and got connected to the principal’s office.
“Good afternoon, Miss Ekanem.”
“Good afternoon, Miss Ituen; what’s the matter?”
“Mr. Ndon requires your attention in his office, ten minutes from now, he’s presently on an important call.”
“Okay,” Abigail replied distractedly, “Thank you, I’ll be there,” she said and cut the connection.
“Of course, you will,” Uka sneered, got up and sashayed into the proprietor’s office.
She smiled at the aroused look on his face, then she turned and pretended to lock the door before sashaying towards Cyril.
His hand moved up and down and Uka knew exactly what he was doing, so she played towards enhancing that feeling. She unbuttoned her shirt, exposing her red, sexy bra, then she pulled the bra down to expose her hardened nipples.
“Yes, my little girl, come to daddy,” he panted while the movement of his hand on his erection quickened.
Uka stopped an arm’s length away from his reach. She raised her leg and wedged her average heeled sandals on his desk, effectively exposing her pants. While his gaze fixed in between her legs, she slowly, mesmerizingly shifted her pants before plunging a finger into herself.
Cyril whimpered and she pouted, “Daddy needs to protect his little girl,” she said in a child like voice.
“Of course, of course,” he panted, hurriedly pulling out his drawer, his hands shook as he tried to tear the condom wrap and sheath himself.
“Hurry, daddy, your little girl is hungry and she can’t wait to eat you,” Uka panted, her fingers moving rhythmically inside her body, sometimes slapping her mound and enjoying how hysterical the great proprietor looked.
“Yes, yes,” he panted again and finally was able to sheath himself. She moved towards him, climbed over him on his chair, with one hand she held her panties to the side and then she took him inside her cove.
“Oh, yes, my little girl!” he exclaimed, then he stood up, lifting her in the process and placing her on his desk just as she’d known he would do.
He pumped into her, his face in the cleavage of her breasts and she tenderly rubbed his slightly balding head, crooning and encouraging him.
And right on time, the knock came and Abigail opened the door without any prompt, just as Uka knew she would. She gasped but the proprietor was too far gone to notice.
But Uka did, since she’d been expecting it. Instead of turning around, she moaned louder, knowing her moans would drive Cyril wild and it did. He pumped into her so powerfully his desk scraped on the tiled floor and then grunted quite loudly as he climaxed.
Uka wasted no time, she pushed him off her spread legs and stood, invariably causing Cyril to see who was at the presently open door of his office.
“Oh God,” Uka gasped in perfect dismay, covering her hands over her mouth and widening her eyes.
“Abigail…” Cyril croaked in shock and watched helplessly as she turned and walked out without a word.
“I’m so sorry, sir, I thought I’d locked the door. Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Will I be fired? Maybe you should fire me so that you don’t get into trouble,” she suggested, her eyes showing absolute concern for the proprietor’s welfare.
Of course, Cyril noticed her selflessness, he wanted to be angry at her for not locking the door, but what he had with her, the deep soul satisfaction that he derived from her wasn’t fickle.
He knew this because, he wasn’t presently worried about Abigail walking in on them and he wasn’t thinking of stopping; he was thinking of increasing Abigail’s salary and maybe, he would make her a partner to keep her in the school.
This could work out. He could have his cake and eat it. He could have his kinky sex and still have his money maker. Abigail as principal maintained a high standard for the school, he would breakup with her and make her partner as compensation.
With a solution to his problem, he smiled at Uka who shivered in a corner, continuously apologizing, “It’s okay, go back to your desk. Nobody is getting fired today, I’ll take care of this,” he said as he rearranged his cloths.
Cyril was a con man, and most times, the perfect con depended on right timing. He knew he couldn’t approach Abigail now and he wouldn’t even want the confrontation on school premises, so he bided his time, he would follow her home and present his terms.
He knew Abigail, he knew how passionate she was about the school and everybody in it, he was sure she would accept the partner position than make a fuss about his indiscretion.
DUCT SEASON 4 continues
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