The Vixenpixie

These are not memoirs




Waiting To Water

“Eish… eish” I said for like the tenth time as I hopped from leg to leg

And for the tenth time, she pulled her upturned nose out of her vibrant looking novel to spare me a glance.

Her eyebrows were asking me the question she wasn’t sure she wanted an answer to.

I sat down, my sheepish smile still stuck on my face

With a heavy sigh, she made to go back to her book but she was way too curious to let it go

“Why won’t you just go?” Exasperation linked strongly with the strange curiosity that was probably bugging her


She waited three seconds

“Because what?!”

I folded my leg under me on the threadbare couch, wincing as my life’s water sloshed and threatened to spill

She would not like that. She really liked that almost-tattered bohemian sofa.

“Because WHAT?!” She asked again, this time grinding her jaw. That girl might need to see a dentist about that. I’d always told her that…Wait, why was she looking at me like that? Oh! She asked me a question.

“There’s something really anticipatory about waiting for a special moment” I said, trying to sound flippant.

“Waiting for a special moment…?”

With the look she now had in her eyes, I must have grown several heads.

“Yes, it’s all in the waiting. ”

But you know what? I wasn’t sure I was being truthful anymore because a little, just a little bit of my life’s water just slipped past my defenses to dampen her beloved red and orange couch.


Some Nights

Some nights

She would whisper to me

In sighs and Innuendos

mumbling in hushed sentences and darting eyes

Fear and excitement and interest

Lost within the disclosure and mutterings and undertones

She would hold me, arms outstretched

Divulgence seeping through her every manner

Breathing phrases at me, murmuring words like;

“Say nothing my love, say nothing”

And I would think only to myself

“But I heard nothing dear girl, I heard nothing”



10 First Date Questions That Aren’t Played Out To Death

It can be awkward to run out of things to talk about on a date. It can be even more awkward to have the same conversations you’ve had on EVERY single date you’ve ever been on.

I know I have!

So, Let me help you out.

Here are 10 suggestions for conversation starters that haven’t been done to death. You can use them, or let them inspire you to come up with your own.

1. What animal, besides humans, do you think would make the best world leaders?
2. If you could take a pill that made you never have a negative thought again, would you?
3. What’s your earliest memory of feeling wonder?
4. What do you think would make this restaurant better?
5. Is there a band that you used to love and can’t stand now?
6. What’s your biggest food-related triumph?
7. Do you think if you could get paid just to be yourself, it would change the way you act? How?
8. Describe the best night of your teenage life.
9. If you had a million dollars that you had to give to charitable causes, how would you spend it?
10. Do you think your name suits you? What would be better? What about my name?

So, are there any questions you would like to ask or be asked on a first date?

Would these interest you?

I Shouldn’t Have

I shouldn’t have let him

advance into my room, into me

from friend, to roommate, to lover

Now one thing must lead to another

excited conversations of the eyes

have been replaced by intense groping and sweaty grabs

now he more than talks to me

he mumbles his words with his lips pressed against mine

all meshy and moist, sometimes cold, other times feverishly hot

and if he eats that damn garlic pasta

I’d have to wash it out of my own mouth


I shouldn’t have let him

around, in here, on me

from “hey” to “hi” to “come back please”

I used to walk out the door and not give a damn

now I have to think, I have to wonder

where does he go each night after work?

why can I smell his skin on my sheets?

now I’d cry if he’s been gone too long

waiting for him to come back and cuddle me to sleep

and if I miss dinner,

I know someone else will take care of it


I know I shouldn’t have

Let him surround me

ask me where I’m going today

tell me my skirt is too short

command me to lay on the couch and watch tv

but I also know what I shouldn’t have done

I shouldn’t have liked him back.


7 Ways To Subtly Mess With Someone

Hi Guys, sorry for disappearing for so long. Life and adulting gets in the way sometimes. Anyway, I’m glad to be back and boy, am I glad to share this post with you. I found this on my Stumbleupon and I know you would love it!

I always enjoy messing about with my friends, having such a laugh and here, I found 7 absolutely fun ways to do just that. Here We Go:


1. When I’m eating out with someone and they get up to get another drink or answer the phone, etc, I turn their plate 180 degrees.

2. When I’m walking in front of a stranger and turn a corner, I sprint for the couple of seconds when they can’t see me. By the time they turn the corner, I’m 15-20 metres in front of where I should be.

3. When my neighbors leave notes in the common areas, I add exclamation marks. Always. Just to make every note look a bit more passive-aggressive.

4. When I reply to a coworker’s email, I edit the copy of their message to add misspellings, punctuation mistakes, and things like that. If it turns into a long email conversation, their original message ends up looking like it was written by a monkey.

5. Start random sentences with “Not being racist but…”even though what I say has nothing to do with race at all.
Alternatively, end random sentences with “no pun intended”, even when there is no pun.

6. When people are talking to me, I very slowly open my mouth until they just start to notice, then I close it.

7. I like to play a little game called “How much stuff can I hand you before you really notice.” Whatever is around while we’re talking, I hand it to you, you hold it for a second, we’re still talking, I hand you something else, you set the first thing down. I hand you yet another thing. Pretty soon you’re surrounded with salt shakers and staplers and cups and pens and eventually you stop and notice and you’re all like “Whaaaat?”


So, what do you guys think?  Do you have any other ideas?

Do you really have the guts to do this?

Averment of Self

“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness

It took me years to understand that this too is a gift”

Tears and Blood

I feel them merge and swirl beneath the surface of my faux-hardened face

They bubble to the layer right at the top, impendent to overflow and spill

maybe even to plunge me in its plethoric depth

It is like not wanting to hurt while wading through a lumbering stream of daggers

My skin left bare to bear each quick cut

Oh wait! That’s what this is

Watching you sleep so soundly while a whirlpool of your words churn and surge

Fighting my eyelids and willing them to stay up

Remembering your words and that I am determined to beat them

That I need to prove that I am not what you say that I am

I am dogged to show you the finesse and poise which you claim you do not see

To sit here till my knees scream from being tightly pressed together, thigh squished against thigh

To sit here with my back arched, stretched side by side with the lines of this high backed chair

Eyes glaring at the distant wall to show you that I am not lazy, that I do not sleep as much as you say that I do

To put my hands, one on top of the other, displaying my delicatesse

I will not shuffle when my hair falls across my face

I will stiffen my neck to avoid the drowsiness that I feel

Because your words, your accusations have become my directives

I will be nothing like what you say I am

I will show you.

Within Her Mind

“She’s annoying”
“Why? Because she’s not you?”

The stillness extended and the tension grew, sneaking in through the spaces in each window net, the dour drafts, and the slice of space underneath each door.
Flopping on the bench, she let out an angry howl
“You make me so angry!”
He said nothing to that. There was no response he could give that would bring her back from where she was going now. He knew he should try but he just stared and stared, watching as the fury licked her like wild fire; Eyes getting hotter the more she thought about it. She had started to beat the pillows with her closed fist and He knew they would turn ink in an instant and she would not even notice.
He watched

Worried and watched
Then just like that, her eyes came up to meet his and the heat was all gone.
The tension disappeared as quickly as it had come and the screams she hadn’t been sharing just stopped.
Fear held him against its bosom.
“Stella…” Her silence hit him like in the gut like a fist.
“No! Say nothing”

She got up slowly, the thick cold was pressing her, enfolding her, tightening inside her
She felt her fingers get cold one after the other and her feet felt heavy on the lush rug
Over and over, swaying and swishing, the whirlwind in her head tossed and trashed
Round and round, messing up her insides
Shut up! Please shut up!!
I’m quiet Stella. Why are you shouting?
She heard her, she heard the condescending lilt, she heard the prodding
He doesn’t deserve you. He won’t stop. Make him stop.
Make him stop!
You know how.
I won’t do it.
You must.
I can’t.
Then he’ll hurt you again.
Fine. Let him.

Quiet. Everything went quiet.
She had been looking at the rug, her eyes beginning to smart at staring the vibrant yellow that lay carelessly at her feet. Her eyes were stinging from staring at something so bright for so long, so she looked at him.
She saw the fear swimming in his eyes, the thick vein at his neck throbbing, pulsating and she made to walk towards him. When her legs wouldn’t listen, she gave a groan.
“Just a friend?”

He let go of the breath he’d been holding
“Yes, Just a friend”
“Will she like me?”
“I don’t care. She’s dispensable”
She said nothing and bit the inside of her cheek for what seemed like minutes. He crossed the room and plucked her off her feet.
“Let’s go take a shower”

Diagnosed. (R18)

The antiseptic smell of a hospital is one that you’ll never forget in a hurry and time seems to slow down when you are lying face up towards the white washed ceilings, bottom half covered in the thin cloth that served as the duvet. It’s been 4 days since the accident and I was so much better. The doctors had proclaimed me strong enough to go home the following day and I was excited. I was glad. But I couldn’t get those big brown eyes of the matron from my mind. How her blue scrubs skimmed her buxom body. her light clear skin teased me whenever she came in to check and I was hoping that maybe she wasn’t totally ignorant of my interest. Her small waist, flared hips and long legs were of interest to me. On a better day, I’d have liked to tie her against my iron bed post at home with her blue cotton trouser and watch her pert breasts stare back at me. I’d imagined how pink her nipples were. Or light brown. And huge. And perky.
My dick began to tug at the thought of the creamy goodness I could get from sliding into the matron, ass up, face down.
Just like she was reading my mind, she walked in, holding the iron pan with my medication.

“Hello Akin, how are you feeling today?” She said, her slightly calabar accent showing through as she pronounced my name. I murmured and gave her a smile. ” I hear you’re being discharged tomorrow.” She began as she poured water into a cup for me. Pushing the drugs into my hand, she smiled reassuringly. “Well, lucky u, I’ll be here all night to take care of you. S’long as there is no emergency” she finished, and took the empty cup from me. “Let me look in on my other patients and I’ll come back to check your vitals ok?” She said, turning and walking out the door. Her round ass in full display against her bright blue hospital pants.
Oh Jeez! I had barely said anything as I’d been imagining all the ways I wanted to make her scream, and say my name. Her southern tongue rolling as she said my name in ecstasy. And I’d been trying to hide my semi erection. My heart was pounding because I knew it was getting late and the hospital wasn’t so full today. I had to do something when she came back to see me.

An hour or two had gone by, and she hadn’t come back to my room to check on me. The weight of disappointment was threatening to depress me. I looked out the window, wondering what everyone else was doing and how they were faring. The click of the door lock snapped me out of my reverie as I watched the matron walk towards me. Somehow, she seemed less… Nursy now. She had let down her long braids and her top button was undone. Her eyes were fixed on me and I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Silently, she sat on the bed beside me, and just stared at me. She didn’t need to say anything. I reached out and pulled her down towards me. Her lips melted against mine and she smelled like antiseptic soap. Without any restraint, I pushed my tongue into her mouth and she met me with ardor. Her hands holding onto my arms as I pillaged her mouth. Tongue flicking in and out, slightly biting her full lower lip. Stopping me, she got up and pushed my cover cloth down to expose my hard throbbing dick pushing against the thin cream boxers. The smile on her face seemed satisfied. Still staring, she slowly unbuttoned her top to reveal her very fair skin and a bra made of something transparent. Lace maybe. I got harder. still staring, she unbuttoned her trouser and started to push it down her hips. Her panties were of the same material as her bra and I could see the lips of her pussy. I’d begun to sweat. Her nipples were pushing against the transparent material and I could almost see the wet pool staining her panties. I licked my lips and motioned for her to straddle me. Sitting on my pelvis, my hard dick pushing against her, she began to lick my neck. Her ass was so soft, so round and it seemed like my dick was sinking into them. She was licking my neck, biting it, slowly, nibbling. Intense. I was feeling like I’d explode. I smacked her soft butt and felt the softness against my palm. She looked at me in surprise and it pleased me. Unhooking her bra, I took her nipples in my mouth, soft breast pressing against my face. I was right. She had perky light brown nipples. And her boobs were round and stared at me. Pulling against them, I bit the side. Watched her eyes dilate, her back arch. I wrapped my hands around her small waist as I licked from one nipple to the other. She had begun to moan. I licked then bit the nipple lightly. Her back arched again, pushing her ass deeper against my crotch.

My hands held onto her ass as I kept licking, then I took a finger and slid into her wet pussy. Damn, she was tight. I literally had to push my finger hard. Her pussy walls contracted, holding onto my finger tightly. I got harder. I couldn’t wait anymore… I pushed her panties down, pulled my dick from my boxers and pushed. Her pussy lips licked me. Warm, soft. She sat down slowly, slowly, taking me in her. I could feel her wall. So tight. So wet. She held onto my arms tightly. All the way. My dick was all the way in. Her ass on my pelvis, my pussy surrounded me. Slowly, she began to go up and down, turning round at the tip of my dick, then taking me hard and completely. Slowly, she kept going. I couldn’t stop watching as she took me. She was moaning against my ear loudly as she squeezed my arms, her nails biting into my skin.

Taking me deeply, her breath caught as I swelled even bigger. Gosh, my head was beginning to feel heavy. Then she was going faster, faster, ass slapping against my pelvis as I started thrusting up, higher, deeper. Her moans got louder and I couldn’t stop feeling her wet wall slide against me. Oh shit! Oh shit!! She was cumming. Her pussy was trembling, collapsing against my dick. Wetter and wetter. I couldn’t stop trusting. Oh shit. I was cumming. Hard. I grabbed onto her ass and drove harder, harder as I felt myself get fuller. My head got heavier. Arrrgh… Yes, I’m…

“Akin! Akin!!” I heard my name. Someone was shaking me. Everything seemed to be slipping away. “Akin, are you ok?” I heard a calabar accented woman say. She was shaking me awake. My eyes opened in shock. For about a minute, I was disoriented. What just happened?

Monday Is An Oppressor.


Monday is a man

Monday is a tall, tribalistic hoity-toity man, not like Abacha, more like Hitler. a man who would demean all humans with one look, a man sure of who he is and where he is going.

Annoyingly dependable, like a hot iron melting a slice of butter, he will appear. Not with a smile, not with a hug. He would walk into a room and everybody would have to pay attention. Not because of his power suit or his shiny black shoes, not because his presence will induce your headache or his words would shut a president up.

The sight of Monday will cause your heart to race in anxiety, his voice resounding like a thunderous clap in you, instructing you with fierceness, working you to exhaustion, pointing out your flaws with cruelty, singing your praises with a sneer, a man who will haunt u and never want to leave.

Dusk will never come fast enough to send him on his way.

You will kneel in supplication and beg your God for Monday to go to sleep so that you may pull the curtains of your thoughts over his large oppressive eyes. His resilience will beg for you to take a pen and stab yourself in frustration, causing sweat to pool under your arms.

Go Away Monday!

My love for you is painful and it tears me apart. It drains me.

Stay away from me Mr Monday,

I can stand you no longer.

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