Au Naturel

"Boorish call my cousin", said my fried.
"I think you two will get along"
OK, I'll call, give me her number".


Call I did, and the initial conversation lasted for hours, in the following week, our conversations got deeper, friendlier, more frivolous at times and laced with a fair amount of innuendo. On a Thursday, we agreed to have the our first shag session over the weekend. As we were both rather young (she was 23 and I was 21)we had THAT conversation.


"Boxers or briefs boorish"? She asked brimming with anticipation.

"Either boxers, tighty whiteys or I just let it all hang".

"Thongs or french knickers?" Asked Boorish as he wished under his breath that she would NOT say thongs.

"I wear big, cotton, granny panties."

"You are so funny" said Boorish, appreciating her sense of humour.

"What about grooming?" Boorish asked

""How so"

"Do you have a little Mohawk down there"? "Maybe a little runway?" "Or do you go for the bald eagle look?"

"I like it Au naturel" She said.

I hoped to god that she wasn't serious, and with a strange mix of anticipation and trepidation, I awaited the weekend.

The weekend came and i finally got to see her, she was attractive enough and appeared to take good care of herself. I hugged her and took a sneaky pick at her ears.

No ear wax, clean nails and her braids aren't stinky". Boorish thought as he let her into his student flat.

Boorish wasn't one to waste much time, after all she was there for a weekend long shag session; so they got to it. I could smell a trace of her shower gel, her perfume was fruity and rather delicious, her lips were soft and her touch was absolutely mind blowing. We has a twenty minute foreplay session and we dry humped each other a fair bit. The clothes were off and we were down to our underwear, I took a look and realised that she told me the truth about the granny underwear.


"Bloody hell, those panties look almost as old as I am".


I kissed her lightly from her neck down to her belly button and could not help but notice a strange bulge in her crotch.

"Looks like something isn't quite right"

I grabbed the thick elastic strings of her cheap cotton, moth eaten Mickey Mouse panties and pulled them down.

"Kai, haba, damn, shit".


I screamed as something that looked like a cross between a rat and a grizzly bear sprung forth from her underwear.

The creature jumped out at me with the eagerness of a runaway slave


Her bush was was the size of Angela Davis's Afro.

"What the hell is this?"

"I told you, I like it Au naturel".

I found out that she had never trimmed her bush in all her years on earth. It was a horrid sight and it spread every where, down her thighs, up her stomach, it looked like a huge hairy oil slick.

"This is not good enough".

"But I might get shaving bumps".

"Since you never did attempt to shave or trim, you don't know that for sure".

"You hate me, you find me disgusting, you are so mean."


I wondered if she expected me to feel sorry for her, so i left her to her own devices and went of to sleep on the couch.

She left the next morning and still speaks of how mean I was to her.

Au naturel? Now that takes the piss.

Matrimony? Maybe

Another day, another wedding.





Another victory parade for the bride.

Another groom sacrificing his liberty.

Another man submitting to the whims and caprices of an in-house dictator.

Another woman morphs into a bedroom terrorist.


Maybe I eventually will get married, maybe I'll do Vegas. Maybe it will be your typical stylised Nigerian wedding, where at the reception the dashing groom(at least in my case) dances in with the bride. The bride in her excitement at finally having her victory parade, throws all convention to the wind and proves that the stereotype of the demure bride is nothing but bullshit. She then proceeds shake her girdle supported ass whilst pretending to dance the "YAHOOZEE", but in reality she is holding her diamond ring (in reality it is a cubic zirconia, but what the hell. It looks good)up in the air in order to spite all the single women in the crowd.

"YOU CAN HATE ME BITCHES"

"BUT I HAVE A SLAVE NOW"

"I WILL CONDEMN HIS ASS TO A LIFE OF SERVITUDE"

"I WILL SEE TO IT THAT HE WORKS HIMSELF TO THE BONE TO SUPPORT ME AND MY (not his) CHILDREN".


Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against marriage, and even the brides are not quite as monstrous as I paint them. The only issue for me is that most women don't wish to be married, all they wish for is a wedding. They want to wear the white dress (even though they ought to wear any colour other than white), and partake in the pathetic, spectacle that they have reduced the marriage ceremony to.

I remember a conversation I had once.


"My friend is so lucky"

"How so?" i asked, attempting to feign interest.

"She met her husband six months ago, at a wedding reception, and he said to himself that the next good looking girl that walks through the door will be my wife. And then my friend walks in".

"What if they are not compatible?"

"Who cares?"

"Pardon me?"

"Look Boorish, it is every woman's dream to me married, and have her big day".


Her friend, did in fact have her big day, so big and tasteless it was that there were belly dancers at the reception, and famous comic rehashing some old lines. All the supposed society people were there and they all had a big ball. Unfortunately the break up of the marriage was so dramatic (more like apocalyptic)that was more talked about than their carnival of a marriage.


Happy ever afters? we'll see.


Matrimony? Maybe.