Your Reputation Precedes You

It wasn’t the way he carried himself that gave him his reputation. He did not appear, as people would say, as the ‘type’. He had this dull brightness that fluttered around him; he was sluggish and overly unimpressive. In fact all that was attractive about him was his face and his naturally muscular body. The rumor that went around the department was ‘he fucks  good!’
While the ladies were the ones involved (for he was not gay) it was the guys that were most concerned. For some of them, it began to seem that they could no longer satisfy their girlfriends and that the girls needed some sort of higher power to work on them.
However it was difficult to confirm his notoriety because it would be unconventional and quite childish to walk up to a mature guy and ask him straight up ‘did you fuck my girlfriend? She seems distant when I’m doing her’ and the girls would advertise how cheap they were if they asked him if he could do them. Hence, it was the intrepid ones that could request for a night in his room and returned the next morning with a testimony undeclared only to their cliques that could really answer that. Of course who would want to admit that they had been pleased sexually by a person like him.
But if you were as observing as his girlfriend was one Friday afternoon, you would notice the way girls who sauntered past him, bite their lower lip and wink at him, he in turn smirked.
She had begun to suspect when she saw, while eating at one of the school restaurants, some girls whispering while casting glances at her. She had never spent a night in his apartment but tonight she orchestrated it.
Hunkered in his arms that night, she offered no restriction and he blessed her. He took her to heights she had not previously explored, satisfying whatever style her senses urged for and confirming her doubts.
For the aftermath, she buried herself beneath the bed covers while he caught his breath. Her expressions morphed from excitement to misery. She said ‘so what they say is true. You Are good’.
This was their end.

©Kay Ugwuzor
5658185C – BBM