Infatuation (An Hour Love)

Welcome to Cave city. A small city located up on a hill, with a proportional population and development. The only thing getting out of hand in Cave city was corruption and immoralities among the teens and youths. Thus, Cave city was agreed not to be a good place to raise kids. Hence, my mom had me raised out of Cave city; out of my natal home. There was just one envious attribute of Cave city; and why the city was called 'Cave city'. No matter what went wrong in Cave city, the smoking gun was never found. That was because, 'what happens in the cave, stays in the cave'.

There were rules that every Cavenans adhered strictly to. We did not know who initiated those rules, but we met them on earth. Welcome to Capital city. A small city of high profiled citizens; with inordinate development and a good educational system. Perhaps, the best city to raise kids. Hence, my mother had me sent here; after my eleventh birthday; to be raised by her elder brother- uncle Tega. The capital city was not called Capital city for being the capital. Rather, it was a replica of Peoria in the United States of America. Whereas, the wealthiest people lived there. We shall learn more about this city as we take a ride on this boat (Infatuation). Presented before us, is a young man in his early adulthood; in his natty suit with no jacket to complement; brown in complexion, average in height, and quite skinny. Yes! That is me, in a video game store. My name is Samson Frodd, popularly known as Loud. Loud POV. "Bro, the controller you sold to me last week is pretty grotty, and I am not happy about that. Give me a better one this time please." "I am so sorry about that Loud, it wasn't intentional. You know, I am not the manufacturer; but I will give you the best today, and however, with a discount." "Better." He went into the inner store. Probably that was where they kept the original products; but, I always deserved to be attended to from the inner store. Moreover, that was where I bought all my video games and controllers. The storekeeper knew my name but I never knew his. He was in his late 20; dark and taller than I was; that I never cared about - moreover, I looked older than I was. There was a book on his desk titled 'Cashflow Quadrant' by Robert Kiyosaki. I was taking a glance at the book when my phone rang. It was Automatic calling. "Yo Auto! Sup my g?" "Pretty good fam, where you at?" "I am in Capital city, I want to get a new controller to replace that faulty one." The store returned with the controller packaged in a white fancy customized nylon. He dropped it on the desk as he collected my debit card and slid it into a small portable machine. I got the smoke signal from him; so, I inserted my four-digit pin. He gave me a wave signal, meaning that I can leave, as he returned my debit card to me. To me that was rude, but because I was on the phone; I left without a word. "Fam, there is a party up here at young lad Zoom's crip. Today is his birthday, and we just wanna do a little party. Yastand, paint Cave city a little red. It is kinda emergency, but please can you pull up fam?" "Alright, ima pull up asap g". "Thanks, fam. Please pull up with some good shits". " What sort of good shits?" "I don't know. Some intoxicants, weed, merchandise. You know better than I do man. So, do your thing; I have done my thing." I understood what he meant when he said, he had done his thing. Auto was a pro when it came to getting pretty girls to a rendezvous. While I was better at getting people's kids smashed in a party. As for the last party I hosted, I got over fifty people to pass the night at the club. "I hope the girls are very pretty?" "Trust me, trust me my nigga, trust me." "Alright g, let me see if I can make an impulse buying." "OK, fam. See you in a few." "Ya!" I waved at an oncoming taxi, and he stopped just before me. I stepped in gently. "Where?" "CCM!" The driver looked quite young; probably in his early 30. He wore a blue jacket and a black face cap. That was all I could get sight of or cared to. That one thing about Sam Frodd was, he loved to mind his business. Whereas, there is a popular saying which says and I quote: 'mind your business and it will grow beyond devil's expectations'. It was not such a popular saying, because I propounded it. In seconds I was fully relaxed into the back seat of a car that I never bothered to check its name or model. It was a Toyota car, I could tell from the interior; but a Toyota what? Again, that was not my business. What was my business at that moment was the memories of the last party I hosted; it was my 18th birthday party. It took place at 'GrindnBall' nightclub; which was my favorite nightclub in Capital city. Auto and Zoom were the only Cavenan guests. That was the greatest night of my life. A birthday celebration out of parent's and guidance's sight; yes! I did embrace the impinge of liberty. I wore a sleek black suit, a pair of black shoes in a pristine condition, and a black stud. I knew my mom will never allow me to dress like those in the mafia; but, oh yes! I did that night. It was my night. I looked into the mirror, and I could notice my sexy slender figure; like I was seeking a short-run sex. However, I knew I was going to get fucked that night. The party commenced at about 8 pm, with all my guests present with their presents. One of the rules was: give and be accepted. So, when I received a gift from a guest, the guest was allowed into the club. I did not initiate these rules, it has always been. In thirty minutes, we were all inside 'GrindnBall' night club; dancing, drinking, smoking, druggy. With the help of my high school friend (Bad), I got everyone extremely smashed at about 10 pm; then the club was rapidly becoming sleazier, far beyond Auto and Zoom expectations. That was how I gained some respect in Capital city and Cave city. It was rumored in Cave city that I had the highest street cred among my age grade. DID YOU KNOW THAT AS OF MARCH 2020, HONG KONG, SINGAPORE, AND OSAKA HAPPENS TO BE THE MOST EXPENSIVE CITIES IN THE WORLD?

Bad was at one corner of the club eating the kitty cat of a titchy-sized unknown girl. Auto was kissing an unknown girl at the center of the club. Zoom was in sort of a sexual escapade. He was getting some footwork from a sexy unknown girl seated on a sofa, while he laid flat on the floor. He also had the tits of an unknown girl in his mouth. He was in heaven, and I could tell from the expressions on his face. Most of the girls were unknown to my friends but not to me (Samson Frodd p.k.a Loud, a.k.a most versed playboy in Heaven's Gate high school and also titled the Ladies man).

Bad once said that I had dated 95% of the girls in our school; the remaining 5% were the ugly ones. I found that risible until my 18th birthday. I was never the type to get easily infuriated but, I was pretty sad; of course, I was. I slipped two pills of ecstasy into my mouth and light up the seventh stick of weed for the night; sat more relaxed into the sofa with that look of 'tonight is not my night'. I was already in the astroWorld when I noticed that someone was sitting beside me for perhaps, a minute, two, or more. I swiveled slowly to know who it was, or was it just a figment? It was a brown skin girl with a sexy slender figure. She wore a short black filmy gown; so filmy that I could see that she covered her nipples with black tapes. She made her way to my joint and we began a 'puff, puff, pass. After few minutes, she killed the blunt. I peeped at her through Bad black shade that I had on; she looked so stoned and sloshed and so was I. She was possibly the only girl unknown to me in the party and plausibly not from Heaven's Gate high school nor Heaven's Gate estate; Though the filigree on her showed she was a Sloane, I was quite sure we never met before. I knew I needed to take advantage of that. I stood, dusted ashes off my suit, and stretched my hand towards her, seeking a dance. She smirked as she began to stand and I smirked too. We began dancing. She was grinding her booty on my cock so hard that the gentleman lost his sense of gentility. I became so smitten by her tremendous moves. So, I began to whisper to her ear about how beautiful she was, how sexy she looked, how I would love to have her forever. She turned to face me, and I continued with some Shakespeare's. She was so riveted by my romantic words and we suddenly began kissing with so much urge. Our body was gummed, as we made our way to the darkest room. I held her booty so close to me that her kitty cat was grinding so hard against my erected cock; then I sneaked my hand inside her filmy gown and made my way to her kitty cat and began to massage it softly like fire burning around the bush. I could hear and feel her moan tremulously; then I laid her slowly on a couch. I pulled off her G-string underpants in such a professional manner that she never noticed; then slipped a finger inside her kitty cat; then two fingers and began to finger her. She was burning inside and so tight; she was a virgin I guessed. I kissed her neck while fingering her; kissed all part of her body down to the Island; I stopped and began to eat her juicy burning kitty cat. This time, she moaned louder, but the intensity of the music muffled her moan. "And here we are; Capital city mall. Mr..." "Sam!" I completed in my sonorous voice. "And how much will that be?" "300 Dila Mr. Sam." I took out some cash from my front pocket and handed 300 Dila over to him as I stepped out of the car. "Thank you, Mr. Sam." He switched on the music player which was playing 'Bullet from a Gun' by Skepta. One of my most favorite artists. "Why did he not play the song when I was in his car? Am I looking so innocent?" I muttered to myself as I began folding the sleeves of my shirt. I hated looking neither innocent nor guilty. "Good day, Loud." That was from one of the staff at 'Bendez Wine Store'. She was about six feet tall, less muscular, and swarthy. She wore a pair of blue tight jean trousers, a pair of blue Snickers, and a yellow T-shirt with a company badge at her right breast level. She was quite pretty; but trust me, I never felt anything for her. She was always smiling at me; I guessed that was part of her job. Bendez Wine Store had a lot of staff, which was quite a nice ergonomic effort by the honcho, to whom I always addressed as Mr. Bandez. "Good day beautiful, where is the honcho?" I replied with a grim smile. She grimaced at my response, and I understood why. I always requested to discuss business with Mr. Bendez rather than his staff. "Right there." She pointed to the right-hand side of the store, where Mr. Bendez was seated reading the daily papers. I whispered a quick "thank you" into the air as I walked to Mr. Bendez. "Good day Mr. Bendez." He quickly dropped the papers and stood without haste; then stretched a handshake, of which I returned the honor without haste too. Mr. Bendez was an aged man of about forty years, a little potbellied, very fair, and about seven feet tall. He wore a greyish kaftan like those men in Arabic countries and a brown hat; perhaps from the Francophone part of Africa; a pair of brown sandals and a brown wrist watch to complement. "Good day, Loud! How are you doing my friend?" "I am doing just fine Mr. Bendez; and how are you doing?" "I am doing great my friend. Just work, work, work. But for the utmost best." We chorused a chuckle as he moved behind a glass counter. He dragged out a plain book and a pen to take down my order. "So, how are you coping with school, my friend?" "Mr. Bendez, I am done. I am done with the high school, and yet to get into the college or the univ..." "I am so sorry! I forget so soon. Please forgive me. Bravo! Once more my friend." "Thank you." "How is your friend Bad, and how was your party?" "Bad is doing great. And my birthday party was such a tremendous escapism; everyone still wishes for a recrudesce." "That is great. So, what can we offer you this time?". " um, I need some liquor, liqueur, vodka, spirits. Just some hard intoxicants and two plastic bottles of soft drinks". "OK, my friend. You will be glad you came to 'Bendez Wine Store'. Trust me." He chuckled as he passed a piece of paper to a male staff, who dashed out before I could analyze him. HEY GUYS! DID YOU KNOW THAT MOST MEN HAVE 3--5 ERECTIONS EVERY SINGLE NIGHT?

"I trust you Mr. Bendez." "Thank you. Oh! Here they are Loud." The male staff returned with a medium-sized filled carton. He removed the contents of the carton and placed them on the counter. This time, I was no longer interested in analyzing him. He stood behind his boss like he was waiting for approval to leave; which he never got. Mr. Bendez picked up a transparent bottle. "Here my friend, Beluga vodka. Made from pure grain; down from Russia.

It has a very high alcoholic content of about 40%." He dropped the bottle and picked up another transparent bottle, although, the content was not as clear as the previous one. "And this one is called American Honey. Made with wild turkey Kentucky bourbon and pure honey. It is a 35% alcohol liqueur blended with honey and real wild turkey bourbon whisky. And of course, from the United States of America." He makes his way to another bottle. So, I interrupted. "I am sorry Mr. Bendez, but I don't think we can do that today. I got people waiting for me at home. So, I am gon have to take the lessons next time." "Alright my friend, if you say so." "Yeah. I will be taking one of each and two bottles of soft drinks as I mentioned earlier." "Alright. Pack them up." He instructed the male staff in his sonorous voice. "And, here is an extra bottle of American Honey to congratulate you on your recent success and to, however, wish you a happy birthday my friend." "Thank you Mr. Bendez; I appreciate it. So how much is all that?" "15000 Dila. How do you wish to pay?" "Card." He gave me a signal, directing me to the cashier's post. The payment was quick; and my goods were handed over to me, well packaged in a cubed plain carton, inside customized tick nylon. "Garcia's Loud." "Alright. Bye, Mr. Bendez." "Bye my friend." It was drizzling slightly. So, I dashed to a parked taxi. It was a black Toyota Corolla, 2007 model. The glasses were all raised; perhaps to prevent penetration of water. I knocked softly at the back window to alert the driver who was seated in the driver's seat. He gave a smoke signal to come in. "Where?" "5th avenue." "Alright. Welcome aboard Mr?" "Sam." I completed it quickly. He was an old-aged man, probably in his 60s. He had a touch of grey on his hair and his little neatly carved mustache, without the beard. He wore an oversized black suit jacket; a replica of the ones worn in the Netherland during winter. Honestly, I hated to be driven by old men. They drive very slowly and talk quite whimsically. "So, welcome aboard once more Mr. Sam. You can call me Mr. Denver." He said. He was probably waiting for my response, which he never got. "What is my business with your name? Mind your driving old dude." I muttered under my voice. He drove for some minutes without talking, and I was so grateful. Then he broke the silence. "So, where are you from Mr. Sam?" "Heaven's Gate Estate." "Oh! That is such a wonderful place to come from." I was a bit startled by his response. I could not tell if it meant positivity or otherwise. So, I had to put on ice the conversation. "Mr. Denver, do you have some music?" "Of course I do." He switched on the music player and a familiar rhythm were coming from it. It was Bob Marley's Don't Worry, Be Happy. This song was meant to make people happy, but this time, it grieved me. "Mr. Denver, don't you have Skepta or Youngthug, Travis Scott or" "I do not have any of that son! Those are for gangsters, or are you a gangster, Mr. Sam?" "Nah, Mr. Denver. I think I will like this one." "You will love it. Trust me, son." I promised myself never to respond to him. He was so much like an amateur sleuth. The most infuriating part of him was that he was such an inquisitor; which made me unfold the sleeves of my shirt. "Here we are; 5th avenue." "Yeah, I will drop right there. At the restaurant." "Alright. Here you go. That will be a hundred and fifty Dila." "Here it is Mr. Denver." I handed him 150 Dila and stepped out of his insalubrious car; with my goods; stood, waiting for him to drive off. He put down the front door glass. "Have a nice meal Mr. Sam." He screamed. I did not respond; I promised myself not to do that. 5th avenue was the last street of the city. It was the street where the middle-class citizens of Capital city lived. However, this category of citizens was deemed wealthy, but not as wealthy as the occupants of the rest of the city. I walked past a railway which was however the boundary between Capital city and Little Land. Then through a narrow road that led to Bad's house. Welcome to Little Land. A city whose name describes it best. It was a little sloppy city with exiguous development and an enormous population. The city stood between the capital city and the cave city. History had it that the indigenous people of Little Land were the putative owners of the Capital city. I guess that is a story for another day? Furthermore, Little Land was a very exhilarating place to be in the day; but turned into a crime city in the late nights. Thus, it was a very risky place to move at night, except for the members of the different gang groups that existed in the city. The gang groups in Little Land were known to operate only at night; moreover, the city had a poor security system. In few minutes, I was at Bad's house. Bad's house had a big rectangular fence with one small gate at the back, two small black gates by the sides, and a bigger green gate at the front which was the main entrance. The back gate had a big banner like a design covering the interior and exterior part of it; with a write up ("And when someone wicked turns away from the wickedness that he has committed and begins to do what is just and righteous, he will preserve his own life") on it. The gate was his family secret and unknown to many because it was an arranged escape route. The two small black gates were used by Bad to run his weed and drug dealings. You knocked slightly on any of the gates if you wanted to just make purchases; and you will get attended to, through a concave hole on the gate. You knocked slightly four times at the gate by your left from the back of the fence; if you wished to go in. I knocked four times on the gate and a tenor voice responded from inside. "Who is that? What you want?" "Tell Bad loud makes it louder." "Alright! wait there." 'Loud makes it louder' was a coded statement Bad and I used it back in high school whenever I had to send someone to him to purchase weed. The person always returned with loud (weed) packaged secretly and sent to me. Most importantly, the statement meant that I wanted a type of weed made from 'loud dream strains'. HEY GUYS! DID YOU KNOW THAT AS OF 2020, TIJUANA-MEXICO REMAINS THE CITY WITH THE MOST CRIMES IN THE WORLD?