Where are all the good girls?, by Anurika Onyelemelam

“Ladies no longer want love and romance. All they want are material things. Money! Money! Money!
“The other day, I took one out for a nice time. Immediately we got into the bed, she said she was having accommodation problem. She said she wanted to rent an accommodation and needed N500,000. My eager manhood suddenly dropped. It fell asleep! Just look at me, where would I get such an amount? And that was the first time we were supposed to go to bed together.
“This behaviour has become common among ladies. Even after that lady, I tried another and it was the same thing. In fact, this one started telling me all her problems down to the latest business she wanted to start and the money she would need to start it.
“I was on the verge of pulling off my boxers when she started her tales of woes and needs. My boxer was down and my erect manhood wilted like a dried leaf in Harmattan season. I didn’t know whether to pull my boxer up or down.  Anurika, you need to talk to ladies. What is happening to them?”
He wore a baffled look. He looked expectantly at me.
See me, see trouble O!
What does he want me to say? Short of seeking the two ladies out and giving them third degree slaps, I didn’t know the miracle he expected from me.
There were three of us, on the day of that discussion. The sun was scorching. We sat under a mango tree, talking about these weird creatures called women.
Now hold on there…I am a woman in every sense of the word! I have received mails from a lot of you guys, saying I am a man, writing under the pseudonym of a woman.
I am just a woman, chikena! Just because I sometimes lambast my fellow Eves doesn’t make me a man!
Anyway…as I was saying…my other male friend also had something to say.
Hear him: “She spoilt my weekend for me. We were already in bed, about to get down to the basics where bones would meet with flesh in a happy wedlock and she started talking of N30,000 for her school fees.
“For goodness sake, why pick that moment! Just when I was down to my boxer…she had not removed a piece of her clothing. It dawned on me that she wouldn’t play ball except she got the money. I told her that I would see what I could do. It was then she began to undress. I lost my desire. My manhood deflated. I picked my clothes and walked out of the room without touching her. That was the first time I ever took a babe into my bedroom without hammering her.”
They both told me that they respected and cherished ladies who didn’t attach a price tag to their honey pots.
Shameless sisters!
What has happened to us? Why allow men to call us names? We have to do something, and fast too!
Just as I said…it’s not only ladies in brothels that are prostitutes.
If you collect money from a man before you allow him a go at your honey pot, what does that make you?
Go, ahead, think about it!
The terrible thing about having a price tag for your honey pot is the likelihood of the guy being pissed off and deciding to ram into you mercilessly.
After he finishes with you, you’ll think a horse rammed through your well. Every man likes being loved, but not for what you can get from him. Take that to the banks!
Before, the one sure way to win a lady’s heart was to wine and dine with her. Sometimes, take her to the beach and on her birthday, buy her a gift or flowers.
These days, no man with his right senses will buy a flower for a Naija babe.
She will cane his ass silly with the bunch of flowers.
Take her to a candle lit dinner for a week without showing some dough and the next outing will find you being rudely burnt by the candle.
Tell her today and tomorrow that you love her, she will smile like it was her due. Tell her the third day and she will snarl, “Na love I go chop?”
Some month’s back…I was on my beat at Oduduwa in Ikeja. There I met this lady whom I thought was on industrial attachment with one of the media Houses.
She got on my nerves when she started criticizing Page 3 girls of a newspaper. She called them whores.
Her reasons? They pose in a national paper and place their phone numbers for all to see. Hasn’t she heard of taking a horse to the stream, but not being able to force it to drink?
How shortsighted can some people be?
I marveled that she was a graduate. She probably graduated from one of those glorified secondary schools called universities.
I asked her the parameter used in judging the Page 3 girls as ‘whores’. I asked her if she was a virgin before she got married. I had to ask because she was acting as if she had never seen any guy’s joy stick except her hubby’s.
She gave me a nasty look. I told her that she too could be a prostitute, married or not, if we decided to base our argument on definition.
I checked the dictionary on my own. It says: A prostitute is “One who solicits and accepts payment for sex acts.”
To me, this means, accepting payment for sex could fall under collecting anything from your husband because you want to bang him. You turn his conjugal rights to your financial exploits. Haba!
Let us use this for the sake of argument…Your husband wants a piece of the action…You know he wants it bad…real bad.
You know the signs. You know that naughty wink. His sexual hunger has been building. He couldn’t wait to get you alone. Then he finally corners you in the bedroom. He got you there under a pretext. The children are probably watching television. He wants it. You can feel his pulsating manhood biting you through the thickness of his trousers.
You capitalised on that hunger. Just as he was smooching your neck, caressing and fondling those secret places, you asked him to give you money for the wrappers you bought from Mama Ebuka last month. Kai! Why then? Couldn’t you have waited until after the show?
I put this analogy across to the lady and she called it knowing how to get things from your husband, knowing his weak point and moment. She sees nothing wrong in asking for material things from her hubby when the heat is on…in the heat…so to say.
Do you agree with her? How do men feel about it?
Some ladies know that some men are weak where their balls are concerned. For some men, this may be true. Once they want it, they want it. They won’t mind promising the babe heaven and earth, so that they can bury that shaft down her warm cavity.
They think with their balls. With such sexually weak men, taking money from them in the throes of passion is as easy as chewing groundnut with popcorn! But is it a good idea?
Haven’t you noticed the way a guy treats you if you don’t always demand things from him?
Respect is earned, not bought. Try to earn respect from your man. Show him that even if he decides to take a bow and walk out of the relationship today, you jolly well can do without him. At least financially.
The less you demand, the more he will realise you love him and not his money. And for crying out loud, why ask your guy for money in the middle of a bang or when you’re about to start? It kills the fun.
It means you’re equating yourself with a prostitute. Where have all our love and respect gone?
Come on sisters, put on your thinking caps!
If you make love with a clause, you make yourself cheap. You’re indirectly telling your partner that he can buy you at a certain price. Allow a guy to get to know you before springing the whole lot of your troubles on him.
Have you ever wondered why he picked you among all the other ladies? Please, don’t make him regret his choice. If he truly cares for you, as soon as he gets close to you, he’ll see those troubles and burden of yours.
Don’t make him bolt before he knows how special you are. Don’t make money the corner stone of sex with a partner.