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<p>Maybe, just maybe…_Some fantasies are not worth being fantasies._<br><br>Not even worth losing a droplet of sweat just to be able to swim in its never-ending tranquil ocean. But, this perception of it; this overweening judgement of these now-familiar fantasies, one will be bereft of this judgement at first. <br><br>The first time you will meet Esther, she will be more than just the usual. Her breast will look firmer and pointing those accusing _nipples,_ pardon, fingers at you. When your darting eyes will rest on her expose thighs—because she will be donning one of those skin-tight, black undies now shorts for some G-Z—you will find solace there. You will unleash all your fantasies—of both the ones you will be the submissive servant and otherwise, and the ones even your gut will dread you if it dare wanders beyond your larynx.<br><br>The other days you will see Esther in passing, you will maintain same status quo; she is beautiful, she is every man’s dream. Not even a phrase as cliche as figure-eight will best describe her, because Esther is more than that, especially to you, and your fervent and somewhat perverted fantasies.<br><br>Whenever you see Esther, you will always be intoxicated in your imaginary world of sitting down on tiger-skin coated couch, hidden in the most shadowy part of your stuffy room, because your windows are shut from the prying ears of your neighbours, and, because you want to be the dominative Alpha male Shola has been battering about on Twitter. After all, what other ways can one be an Ikorodu Alpha male other than being the anonymous figure in the dark smelly of your incensed room?<br><br>The happiest day of your life—at least for the entirety of your ongoing day and wet dreams about Esther—will be when, instead of blood, it is ore that is running through your dorsal veins, and you are courageous enough to ask Esther for her contact in a bid to establish acquaintances. Luckily for you, she is in a good mood, and you become one lucky bastard; the winner of a lottery. _Ain’t life grand to you?_<br><br>The stage for the grand finale will be set; the day set aside for the slaughtering of the lamb. But no, it won’t be in your room that can barely afford two persons and a pet if there was any—one person, one being would have to wait outside, and that would definitely be Esther’s dog if she has one—you will take it somewhere that equates the specialty the day, the moment, wields.<br><br>You will set a stage for this finale outside your comfort zone; the much revered room in your fantasies of Esther. This new zone will be some cheap hotels you overheard from your friends while they were narrating their exploits to a virgin you. You will walk into it, the square-sized hen-the-size of-a-man house, while still questioning your motive behind being this adventurous. Esther will not be far behind you. Even when she is not naive as you; because you have heard the many tales of her own exploits from your friend’s river dams, she will opt for you to take the lead, after all, you are the man and the initiator of this sexual rendezvous.<br><br>After a few seconds of manly executions that will feel like a century to you,  your sweaty body will slump to the empty space on the bed, beside a perplexed Esther, who will be presumably battling with the realities of what she had just submitted herself to—an affair that is below the yardstick set by Emeka, her first European explorer.<br><br>As for you; the hyperventilating puddle lying beside her, you have been cured of your blindness—the veil has been blown off by a strange wind—and the strange lady lying beside you; the Esther, she is just Esther, and nothing more.<br><br>And it starts to creep into your mind, the questions and doubts you were avoiding before the finale, one of such being:<br><br>“Maybe, just maybe…Some fantasies are not worth being fantasies.”<br><br>In this context, Esther’s, and the other ecstasy to come.</p>
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