Tempt-ass-tion

Dat-Ass

There you are on your first date with bae after the peace talks. You are out to make the best impression. A changed man. The straying days are behind you. She is the one. The one you are willing to ditch variety for. Date is going well. Music, ambiance, food, wine, her..all on point. Looking at her seated opposite you, laughing at all your silliness, you are reassured you’ve made the right decision.

Then, you sense a disturbance in the force that causes your hairs to stand straight. This can only be only one kind of disturbance, temptation itself. Dammit! Couldn’t this wait till you’d been a good boy for like at least ko 2 weeks? The look on bae’s face confirms your worst suspicions. She knows your weaknesses and the slight twitch of her small beautiful nose is all the evidence you need that there is a sin somewhere in the vicinity.

The restaurant is one of those with several mirrors placed around as part of the interior decor and you take a quick glimpse in the one right behind bae where you see a woman. A full woman. Figure 8 on steroids and wrapped in a red dress that’s holding on to her like its life depends on it. This is it…you finally allow that the devil is liar.

Your eyes come back to bae’s and you see the worry on her face. You crack a silly joke and both of you laugh nervously. You hope the woman is lost and will walk back out of the restaurant to wherever she came from. 3 seconds later, hope abandons you and takes flight out of the nearest window as her perfume makes impact with your nose and you hear the tick tock of her heels getting louder…like a timebomb. You and hope were never that tight anyway so you seek out courage to guide you through these trying times.

The worried frown on bae’s face is more defined now. You feel the first bead of sweat start rolling down your face as the twitching in your neck begins. You. Must. Fight. This!! Bae reaches out and holds your hand tenderly and you look into her eyes. Her big brown eyes should be able to make you zone out and forget the rest of the world. You can see she wants the same thing. She is rooting for you. Your soul and mind are also rooting for you. Your body and biology, on the other hand, don’t wanna know about roots. They feel nothing for stems either. Or branches, leaves…basically no feels for plants in general. They feel strongly about booty though. You feel the second drop of sweat begin its descent.

Tudu..tick..tudum..tock..tudum..tick..tudum..tock…the sound of the heels is now accompanied by the sound made by the motions of sins healthy left and right cheeks as they swing past you. At this point, it’s safe to say the source of the River Nile is now your forehead. Bae’s now has a panicky scowl and her eyebrows are almost touching. She is still successfully holding your gaze but her tender touch from earlier is now a blood-flow-stopping grip.The blood veins in your neck are popping out and you can feel the strain of the muscles as the battle between will and biology rages there. You might actually win this one.

Sin in a red dress is now a few meters past you and almost gone with her temptation when an unexpected plot twist occurs and she drops something. FUUUUU!! She bends over to pick it and the red dress starts rising. Biology is tired of these silly games and round kicks your will so hard your head makes a sharp turn from bae’s eyes to settle on the 8th wonder of the world. Magnificent! The energy generated from the sudden head turn is in peta joules and shakes all the sweat from your face in slow motion and some of it lands on bae’s face. Your failure, it is final! Finito!!

You don’t know what hits your face first, bae’s slap or her drink. Kale there had been so much potential with this one, you think to yourself as she huffs and puffs out of the restaurant.

*inspired by the voluptuous lady that almost caused me and the boda guy that ferried me on my morning commute to have an accident. Imagine having ‘Taken down by booty!’ on your tombstone…smh.

Written by Byagaba Roland

Roland is a random badman. He suffers from Mephobia.

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