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  • Writer's pictureElira Barnes

The Banana Island Auction by L. Leigh



Enitan watched Tunde come into the kitchen.


‘Hiya,’ she smiled, as she watched him walk around.

Enitan picked up her laptop and walked over to the work surface, next to the built in fridge. The knife block beckoned, she had sharpened the knives to perfection yesterday, picking up one of them studying the beautiful sleek sharp edges. The stainless steel shining like diamonds, the sharper the edge the deeper the cut, when one needed perfectly sliced meat or vegetables. Who invented the knife, she thought. How had humans made the move away from stone to the blade? Anything to take her mind away from the inevitable confrontation with Tunde.

Knives had always been important due to her passion for cooking. The family always laughed when they went away on holidays and she packed her knives. Her stock in trade answer to had been, you wanna eat; I need my knives.

The banality of her thoughts, were not lost on her. Anything but, what was in front of her.

Watching Tunde move around the kitchen. ‘How was your day? Are you all set for your trip tomorrow? ’ her fingers drumming a rhythm on the worktop. Watching him move towards the fridge and take out a bottle of beer.

‘Yep, where’s my dinner?’ Tunde asked, looking around the kitchen, his eyes falling on the empty dining table.

‘Tunde, you specifically told me you would be home late and you would  eat at…,’ making the inverted quotes sign with her fingers, ‘your club.’

Taking a swig of his beer standing by the fridge. ‘I don’t remember telling you that, you must be hearing things as usual. Which won’t be the first time.’

Enitan banged her fist on the worktop. ‘Maybe all the fucking you did today addled your brain, making you forget things Tunde,’ she countered, glaring at him.

Tunde went still and looked at her. ‘What the hell are you talking about; you are always going on about something,’ annoyance and menace on his face.

Sighing he asked, ‘Look Enitan, I don’t have time for your histrionics tonight. Are you going to prepare my dinner or not?’ a sneer on his face as he placed the bottle on the worktop.

‘No, go and ask Linda or whatever her name is to make it for you. Considering you have just dropped a big wad of cash on her this afternoon,’ Enitan said, as she pressed play on her laptop. ‘Can you explain this?’ she asked, as the sounds of him with his strumpet filled the kitchen.

Tunde’s face did not flicker as he listened, picking up his beer bottle. ‘What’s this?’ he asked, shaking his head wearily. ‘Look I don’t have the time to listen or watch some random video with you Enitan,’ walking back to the fridge. ‘I have an important meeting tomorrow and I need to sleep as I have to get up early,’ rummaging through the fridge for food.

Banging her fist on the worktop again. ‘Tunde that is you, with the girl you have been seeing for the past two years,’ Enitan screamed.

Stopping and holding the fridge door he looked over to her. ‘Look Enitan, I don’t know what you are talking about. And why are you screaming? Can’t you talk like a normal human being? We are not in Balogun market,’ he continued. ‘That is not me,’ he replied, shaking his head, rolling his eyes, his tone dismissing her.

‘Do you need to see a doctor? It seems you are suffering from stress and you look agitated. Could be the start of your menopause symptoms,’ he laughed.

The rage she had kept under control bubbled to the surface, turning the laptop out towards him for him to see.

‘Tunde that is you, that’s you with that woman,’ she screamed. ‘How can you say it’s not you?’

Slamming the fridge shut. ‘Hypothetically Enitan, even it is me, what are you going to do about it?’

Laughing at her. ‘Look at you,’ shaking his head. ‘You can’t cook, you can’t fuck, what use are you to me?’ pulling his neck back staring at her in disdain.

Tunde stroked his chest. ‘Her name is Linda by the way, she keeps me young, she fucks well, unlike you. Being with you  Enitan makes me feel old, just look at you. An old, fat, and ugly woman,’ he moved closer to her and laughed in her face.

Enitan was too shocked to speak as tears pricked her eyes, when had Tunde become so vindictive. Determined not to let him see her cry she was silent as she gathered herself together.

Shaking his head and shrugging. ‘Plus, if that is a video you have put together, the only person who will be disgraced is you,’ he continued laughing, as he walked out of the kitchen with his bottle of beer. ‘Most people will see me as a stud,’ grinning, looking back at her and giving her a wink.

Hot bubbling rage rose, tears forgotten, Enitan lost it and picked up a knife.



 


This is a snippet of L. Leigh's work in progress, The Banana Island Auction.


Banana Island, one of the most expensive places to live.

A serial concurrent Mistress ready to do anything to live there.

A mysterious auctioneer...


 

L. Leigh




L Leigh is the author of an erotic BDSM novel, The Lekki Club. She is well on her way to becoming a best-selling author of erotic BDSM fiction, specifically in the category of bondage. She is currently working on the next book in the series.


When L Leigh is not writing in her study, you can find her in the gym, weight-lifting. Our hero does meet his Ms Grey in the gym. L Leigh can deadlift 120kg, squat 100kg and bench 60kg. She likes rolling up her sleeves, when stuff needs to be done. Well, she likes showing off her arms.


 

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L. Leigh


Instagram: lani.leigh.7

Facebook: authorlleigh

Twitter: authorlleigh


 

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