By Bunmi Sofola
WHAT unbridled passion could make a woman seduce a lad? Isn’t every gangling boy’s fantasy, luring a matured woman to bed for his first and subsequent sexual experiences? Ironically,there are women out there who find unfettered lads attractive. Nora was one of them—until she got her fingers burnt. A divorced mother of two lovely boys, by age 36, she’d been divorced but living in her own house with a couple of cars to complement her life-style. “When I met Veron two years ago, he’d just finished with his OND and was on his year working experience—and he was serving it at a friend’s office,” said Vera. “He had no job description—he was more of a man-Friday who did odd jobs. When I visited this friend of mine on this fateful day, I was feeling really famished and she quickly sent Veron to get us some food to eat.
“I teased him about being very young with a lot of girl-friends, but he smiled shyly. He said he’d soon be 24— but his body—over 6ft, broad shoulders and slim hips, screamed sexuality. He once let it slip that he was still a virgin and I showed surprise. Was he kidding? Then I felt excited—to this day, I’d never know why. It would be quite a pleasure teaching him a trick or two about sex. It would be a teacher/pupil fantasy. My chance to give him sex education. Afterall, it’s a belief that women hit their sexual peak in their 30s, and men 20s…. We’d be in perfect sync. Lust had kicked in.
“My first son was to be 12 a couple of weeks later and I invited him to attend. He hung around till the end of the party. He was a bit tipsy by this time. That might have encouraged his next move—afterall I didn’t exactly hide the fact I found him attractive. As soon as we were alone, he pulled me to him and kissed me hard. I was a bit embarrassed, I’d forgotten his inexperience and quickly offered him more drinks before sending him on his way. I told him to come back the next day when the children would be at their grandma’s.
“The next day, as soon as I led him to the bedroom he dived into the bed, quickly peeling off his clothes. As I stripped to my silky undies, he was virtually quivering. Was it from passion? Nerves? Quietly, I plotted how to approach this shy, inexperienced man meeting up with a woman who’d promised him sex. Of course, I was nervous because I wanted his first time… to feel special. ‘I love you…’ he whispered. Of course he didn’t, I told myself. Every strapping lad wants sex, lots of it. Well, just like me! And so it started—the education of Veron. By the time I sent him home, he’d gained a life-time experience. My friends found it hilarious when I told them. They warned it wouldn’t last. But who cared? This wasn’t about love, it was animal passion.
A few months after, he confessed again that he loved me. I told him not to be silly. That he’s got his whole life ahead of him, why tie himself down to a mother of two? ‘Don’t you feel the same about me?’ he asked, hurt. I told him I did, convinced he’d soon get bored when he found much younger girls. But his visits became more and more frequent. He even visited when the kids were around and helped them with their homework. What was he playing at? He kept on assuring me of his loyalty and I was a bit annoyed. Had he thought about the age gap? ‘I don’t care about that. Why should you?’ he pleaded. Then it was accusations and questions when we were apart, moody silence when we were together. In short, our romps weren’t fun any more.
“As soon as he left my place for his parents’ house, my mobile would beep with texts. Are you going out later? Who with? Has uncle Akin been around?’ that last question made me see red. ‘Uncle Akin’ was an ex-boyfriend who’d become a good friend, nothing more. I warned him to be more matured the way he behaved but it was obvious he was infatuated with me. Poor thing, breaking his heart hadn’t been part of the plan. All I wanted to do was introduce him to sex, not scar him forever. But the more he sulked, the more I saw him for who he was—an adolescent grappling with his emotions. Now, to my shame, I realised that he wasn’t matured enough to handle casual sex. To prevent things from reaching a dangerous proportion, he would have to go.
“ After I’d reached this decision, I was looking for ways to make the break less hurtful when he visited and started sulking he saw “Uncle Akin’ and I together somewhere. Whether or not he was bluffing was irrelevant here. I was really fed up with the nuisance he’d become. Quietly, I held his hand and told him: ‘Look,this is not working, I can’t do this any more. It’s over, you need to get a girl of your age.” He stared at me for a few seconds, then burst into tears. ‘You don’t mean it,’ he wept. We can’t be over, I love you. You said yourself that you loved me….’ I’d never felt so ashamed in my life. Now I saw clearly the lesson I’d inadvertently thought the poor boy. That love hurts and women can’t be trusted. All because I’d been too selfish to resist his strapping physique.
“The days that followed were awful. There was no ignoring his pain. He texted, phoned, came round, begged. But I couldn’t give in. I’d used the poor boy for sex and I hated myself for it. There was no need to prolong his suffering. In the end he got the message. I hope some day he will move on with his life—just as I have moved on by going out with a man my age with whom I could have a relationship that is right. Not a teacher and pupil; not vixen and virgin. Youth and experience certainly don’t mix.
“He’d since gone back to college and my friend who was his boss told me he called me a heartless bitch. That I used him as a play thing, a sex toy. He said he fell for me after I’d led him on to believe I loved him. I felt really sorry for him. What could have been a fun thing had now turned into a sordid affair that I regretted…”