Jailbird
Episode 12
BAABA’S RESIDENCE
Baaba lives in a secluded residential area within
Achimota.
She lives on the tenth floor of a beautiful apartment
block, and as Chris rides in the elevator with her he
feels a little uneasy because the whole place reeks of the
aura of wealth.
He wonders how a prison officer can afford such a place,
but he refrains from asking her.
The elevator doors dings open, and he follows her out
unto a lush corridor that has paintings on the walls and
red carpeting on the floor.
There are artificial plants in exquisite glass pots along
the corridor.
As they begin to walk towards a door at the end of the
corridor Baaba links her arm through his.
There is an inscription on her door; it is black cursive
writing on a gold plate.
BAABA BROOKS
BRANDO HOMES
APARTMENT 20
She takes a card out of her bag and swipes the security
gadget beside the door.
There is a beep, and its red beeping light turns to green
and the door clicks open.
Chris follows her into the spacious and exquisitely-
furnished interior.
The curtains are of the highest quality.
The living-room area is a show of sheer wealth from the
imported rug to the bar area to the gadget systems.
He can see tall glass that forms French Windows opening
out unto a lovely balcony.
She puts on the lights as he stands looking around him
with obvious discomfort.
She gives a little laugh as she stands gazing up at him.
BAABA
(softly)
My father is rich, Chris. He bought this apartment for
me. I’m an only child, and my mother died when I
was seven. Daddy remarried, and now lives in
Germany. I’m all alone here. He wanted me to join
him, but I chose to stay in Ghana. He comes down
twice a year to visit me, and I have the option of
visiting him twice a year, but I rarely do.
He looks at her and smiles wanly.
CHRIS
I see. Beautiful apartment.
BAABA
Please make yourself comfortable. Will be with you in a
jiffy.
She puts on the gigantic Samsung Curve HD television,
and then she disappears through another door.
With the air-condition providing a cool atmosphere,
Chris sinks into a comfortable seat and tries to watch a
Premier League game.
He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he
remembers is Baaba standing over him and shaking his
arm gently.
He opens his eyes and looks at her.
She has changed into a short white dress, and bent like
the way she now as she shakes him awake, he can see
the creamy tops of her breasts, and he sits up quickly.
She steps back with a smile, and he notices that the
dress stops just short of her panty line, and that her
well-formed thighs and legs are bare.
BAABA
(demurely)
Wake up, sleepy head. Lunch is ready.
CHRIS
Wow. Did I sleep that long?
She chuckles gently, sexily, and takes his hand, and
begins to walk, dragging him behind her, and his eyes
feasts on her astounding figure and her gently-undulating
m—-s.
BAABA
No. Had some food on the cold. Warmed it for you.
Hope you don’t mind.
Chris takes his eyes off her with an effort.
Five years without a woman, and finding his best friend
now almost married to the love of his life has done
something to him, and he fights down the desire that is
ripping through him.
Her dining-room is an offshoot from the living-room
area, and once again he is struck afresh by its beauty.
She makes him sit at the head of an oval-shaped glass
table, and serves him the best banku and okro stew he
has tasted in years.
The goat meat in the stew is a delectable edible delight
that makes love to his taste buds.
He eats two balls of banku whilst she sits near him with
her chin in her palm gazing at him with her eyes glazed
over with a mixture of happiness and sadness.
Finally, he sits back and belches so loudly that both of
them burst out laughing.
CHRIS
That is the best food I’ve tasted in years, Baaba.
BAABA
Thanks. And I love the way you’ve eaten everything.
When a woman’s food is destroyed like that by her
man, it brings great happiness.
Her man? Chris raises his eyebrows at her, but she just
chuckles and begins to clear the table.
He helps her, and later he dries the plates as she
washes them in the beautiful kitchen.
They return to the living-room, and she asks him if he
wants a drink.
He declines because he is very full. He accepts a glass
of water as she mixes quinine water and Baron de
Campos wine.
He sits in the chair and watches the football match. She
stands at the hall looking at him, sipping her drink
quietly.
Her face is without expression, and she barely speaks to
him.
After a while she drains her cup and moves slowly
towards him.
She stands just in front of him, blocking his view of the
television.
He slowly puts down his glass of water, and looks up
warily at her.
He sees that her lips are slightly parted and wet, and
she is breathing quicker, her bre@sts moving gently with
the depths of the passion she is feeling.
He notices that she might not be wearing any brassiere
beneath that dress, because her n!pples are taut and
sticking out of the dress.
Her eyes are glazed with passion, and he sees that she
is trembling slightly.
And then she begins to sway slowly in a sort of sexy
dance, moving her hands first through her hair, mussing
it up, and gently down to cup her firm bre@sts.
Her eyes are half-closed as she sways with her hips,
turning round slowly, and then placing her hands on her
knees, her butt0cks now outlined by her dress, seductive
and pliant, and then she begins a slow twerking grind
that takes his breath away.
Chris feels himself going almost breathless.
Five years of hard labour in prison, without a visit from
the woman he loves… and now this!
And she is a very beautiful woman.
The front of his trousers is distended as he struggles to
breath.
She straightens slowly, and still with her back to him
she pulls the straps of the dress off her shoulders, and
slowly she pulls it down, and it settles around her feet.
She is wearing a furious G-Str!ng that exposes the twin
m—-s of her derriere, and then she turns slowly and
faces him.
She looks into his tortured eyes, and slowly she pulls
down the panties and kicks it off her right foot.
She stands there, bronzed, beautiful, delectable,
irresistible!
Her breasts are proud, her figure straight out of a
fantasy, her curves electric.
With a grunt he blasts off the seat, and she meets him
halfway.
Their lips grind together in a kiss so fierce that she
tastes a dint of blood in her mouth.
She m0ans as his lips blaze a trail down her throat and
his hands maul her pliant bre@sts.
She takes his right hand and plants it between her legs.
He feels her heat and moistness.
His huge body trembles as he squeezes her butt0cks with
his free hand.
His top comes off, and her hands feverishly work at his
zipper, ripping it down and dragging out his engorged
member.
She pulls it between her legs and it caresses her jade
gate.
His lips sear down on her taut n!pples, and she grunts
with pleasure deep in her throat.
She grabs his angry s—t and rubs it against her moist
heavenly entrance.
She pushes him hard, and he falls on the seat.
She straddles him, planting hungry lips on his, gripping
him and hoisting herself up slowly as she prepares to
settle her diamond slit on his pin.
The realization hits him that in a second he will be
inside her, and there will be no turning back.
Chris grips her shoulders and suddenly flips her first to
his left, and then he pulls himself from under her.
He gets off the seat and sits dejectedly on the floor.
He is still trembling as he reaches for his glass of water
and drinks hungrily, thirstily.
She sits up in the seat, her eyes searing into him.
She is still aroused, still unfulfilled and greatly in need
of him.
BAABA
(painfully)
Chris? What’s this? What’re doing?
He gets to his feet and stands with his back to her.
CHRIS
Sorry, Baaba. I can’t.
BAABA
(in a tearful whisper)
Why? Is it because of Effe?
Chris shakes his head.
CHRIS
(passionately)
No, Baaba. I’m not the same man anymore. Five
years ago I would’ve made love to you gladly. I was a
bad boy, Baaba, before I went to prison. I cheated on
Effe, and I had no scruples. Five years ago I would’ve
made love to you without a shred of guilt.
BAABA
Please. Don’t do this to me. Love me. Make love to
me, Chris, please.
He turns then.
She is still lying on the seat, nipples still taut, legs
still enticingly spread open.
CHRIS
(emotionally)
I promised myself, Baaba, that the next time I made
love it will be with meaning. When we make love it will
be because I want to spend the rest of my life making
love to only you, and no other woman. When I make
love it is going to have a meaning, not just using a
woman’s body to slake off a lustful thirst! I’ll never
do that to any woman again.
BAABA
(in a taut whisper)
Chris, please. Stop this. I need you. My body needs
you. I’ve waited a long time for this moment, to feel
you in me. I fell in love with you, Chris. Please,
don’t spurn me.
He takes her hands.
CHRIS
Baaba, forgive me. I’m a jailbird, and I’m so
confused right now. My life has taken a nosedive, and I
don’t know what is going to happen. I won’t make
love to you simply because you’re there and available, or
that we both feel like it. I want it to have a meaning.
I want to make love more than you, but I’m putting
that part of my life behind me. If I make love to you
in the future, it’ll be because I want to spend the rest
of my life with you. Please, understand me.
She snatches her hands away from him and sits up.
She reaches for him desperately, draping her arms
around his neck, crushing her lips blindly at him.
He grunts and pushes her away, stepping back and
getting up quickly.
She stands up with a cry and runs desperately away from
him.
BAABA
(weeping)
Oh, Lord! He spurned me! He spurned me, oh dear
Lord!
CHRIS
(sadly)
Baaba, no, please wait! Baaba!
She disappears into the kitchen.
For a moment he contemplates going after her, and then
he thinks it is best to leave her to cool down and get
over it.
He slips into his shirt, pours himself more water, and
as drinks it she comes back from the kitchen.
She is holding a broad-blade knife with a sharp tip in
her right hand.
She is glaring at him, and her face is a grimace.
He sees that her eyes are very red, and her hair is
standing straight like hackles.
She speaks, and spittle flies out of her mouth.
BAABA
(seething with fury)
You bastard! You f—–g bastard! Spurn me, would
you? You f—–g stupid bastard!
Chris is so shocked that for a moment he cannot move as
he stares at the girl who had been so tender and so
loving a minute ago, now looking like a character from a
horror movie.
CHRIS
(fearfully)
Hey. Baaba!
BAABA
(foaming around the mouth)
You b@stard! You f—–g b@stard! Spurn me, would
you?
Suddenly she comes tearing across the room at him at
incredible speed, screaming shrilly, the knife raised.
She is like a woman possessed. She gyrates and slashes
at Chris with the knife viciously, screaming all the
while!
She tries to cut open his throat and chest and stomach!
Chris only survives because he is an expert in GojuFist,
and knows how to defend himself.
However, he is completely shocked by the changed
Baaba so much that his movements are slow, and a
downswing strike Baaba has launched almost buries the
tip of the knife in Chris’ eye, but he brings up his arm
just in the nick of time, and the knife buries itself
deeply in Chris’ arm.
He screams with pain, and pushes Baaba.
She falls back, and the knife gets stuck in Chris’ arm.
He pulls it free and holds it as blood spurts from his
arm in bursts.
It is a deep horrible cut, and he stares at it in h0rror.
CHRIS
(angrily, shocked)
D–n it, Baaba! What’s wrong with you? You
could’ve killed me!
Baaba’s lips are drawn back from her teeth in a snarl,
her eyes red and wild, her hands bent like claws.
There is nothing s*xy and alluring about her now, even
though she is still n@ked.
She looks like a wild animal as thick spit drools off her
mouth and falls down on her bre@sts.
BAABA
(in an animal growl)
Spurn me, would you? Bastard! F—–g b@stard!
She picks up a glass flower pot by the armchair, rushes
forward, and crashes it down on Chris’ head.
Chris shouts with pain as glass shards rain on him, and
blood spurts from a cut on his forehead.
Suddenly she turns and runs straight at the glass that
forms the French Windows that lead to the balcony.
CHRIS
(screaming fearfully)
Baaba! Nooooooo!!!
She crashes into the glass with a growl, and she falls
unto the balcony in a shower of broken glass!
Chris screams with fear.
Baaba is lying lifeless in a shower of fragmented glass.
Her face and body are cut in a million places, and she
is bleeding all over her n@ked body!
ChRIS
(shocked, stunned)
Oh, God! No, no, no!
She is lying still as if she is dead, and she is bleeding
all over!
JAILBIRD continues
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