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Opinions of Sunday, 19 February 2017


Friends with benefits, my experience with Ama

Disclaimer: If you are deeply religious or do not have an open mind, please do not read further as this might offend you. Please do not comment with morality lessons or hurl bible verses at me. Thanks.

An introduction was not needed the first time I laid eyes on Ama. She was a striking Ghanaian beauty who just oozed sex appeal which was further enhanced with her natural hair. I happen to find black women with natural hair super sexy and appealing! We happened to meet at a mutual friend’s house party in Somerville, New Jersey. Sitting on opposite ends of the room, we engaged in a childish game of stealing glances for the better part of the evening. Finally, as she made a dash to the kitchen to get a drink, I seized the opportunity and made a move. Her alluring eyes invited me to join her. We met by the refrigerator, both of us smiling as we walked towards each other.

Without saying hello, I blurted out,

“So who is the lucky guy who gets to look into those adorable eyes?”

Definitely a lame opening line but I did not care. She did not seem to mind either because she giggled; her warm and inviting eyes locked on mine the whole time.

“I am Ama and I know who you are.” She said, completely ignoring my first question.

“You do? How?” I asked in amusement.

“Are you still with that light skinned chick you came to the African night with a couple of months ago at Rutgers?” She inquired curiously with a smile as she tilted her head.

“Ha! Did you also graduate from Rutgers University? Have we met before?” I asked

“No, I did not attend Rutgers. I was invited by some friends for African night. We have a couple of mutual friends.” She explained.

“So, are you guys together?” She asked again.

“No, we are not,” I responded, quite astonished by how forward she was.

“That is cool. I am not looking for a boyfriend.” She chimed in.

“So what are you looking for?” I inquired

“You will see.” She said with a smile and a twinkle in the eye.

When we re-joined the party, we sat next to each other and waltzed off into our own world. I was curious to know if she had inquired about me after she saw me on campus. Dotting on my ex-girlfriend at the event certainly did not go unnoticed. Turned out that she did ask friends about me and also looked me up on social media. “You seemed like an interesting guy so I had to check you out.” She said to me. As we yakked away, the chemistry between us intensified. It must have been so obvious that we were totally fixated on each other because our friends moved away from us. I guess they figured that we needed the space.

“Do you want to get out of here? I asked as the party was winding down.

“Sure! Where are you taking me?” She asked with a curious look.

“You will see.” I shot back.


As I reached across to open the passenger door for her (chivalry isn’t dead you know), we accidentally brushed against each other. The sexual tension which had been percolating all night was wildly ignited the second we touched for the first time. Ama turned towards me and we hugged. Within seconds, our lips were locked passionately; the kind of passion emanated when your heart is on fire. My kisses migrated to her neck, a sensitive spot for her. My hand found its way underneath her shirt as she pressed against me. As my lips went further down, she warned that her chest area was more sensitive than her neck. The top buttons of her shirt popped off as I attempted to remove any obstacles in my way. She did not object as I nuzzled around her décolleté. As I lodged my face deep in her double lattes, she held me closer and tighter; almost suffocating me in the process. We were ferociously making out, oblivious that we were in public. Just one of the things that make reasoning fly out the window. The sound of a stranger’s voice jolted us back to reality.

‘Hey, get a room!” She yelled.

We separated but the heat and the glow were raging! There was no need for words as we drove to my apartment. Boy, was I thrilled Ama was wearing a skirt! One hand was good enough to drive as the other was busy navigating her secret garden. She had some generous weeds on her garden and I loved that. She relaxed her seat, leaned back and held my hand firmly in her secret garden until we got to my parking lot. On the way up to my apartment, she cranked up the sexual tension by playfully rejecting my attempts to touch her. “You want these?” She playfully teased as she grabbed her double lattes.

Within seconds of entering my apartment, Ama unzipped my jeans and reached in. Her boldness and aggressiveness were refreshing. She pushed me down violently on the rug in the living room and playfully nibbled on my ear as my fingers found its way into her oven. She wanted to be in charge and I had zero objections. Our kisses were deep and we explored each other with a vigorous frenzy. The makeout session lasted for an eternity. It was as if we both wanted to delay the inevitable as long as possible. I loved the way she moved when I made direct contact with her secret garden. “Don’t stay down there too long.” She begged. “I need to reach my pinnacle with you inside.” I did not heed her warning because, after a few minutes, she exhaled loudly when I increased the intensity indulging in her secret garden.

We were not done and the make out session escalated. After another 10 minutes or so, I gave in as I could not hold off any longer. I took her hand, pulled her up from her knees and led her to the wall. I paused briefly to shroud the clown. She spread out as I slid into her secret garden. It was my first deep encroachment into her garden and I savored the warmth. As she let out a soft sigh, she forbade me to move. She reached over with her right hand and held me firmly as she pushed deeper towards me. “I need to enjoy this first passage a little longer,” she whispered to herself. She finally eased up and allowed me to moved out and back in again. Minutes in, we both became passionately aggressive. The message was clear, we were NOT making love; this was something else. There was nothing gentle about this play time. We were uninhibited and there was a subtle hint of depravity in the way we touched each other. The roughness was an indication that we both had sizable selfish needs. Like a General, she made demands and I fulfilled her selfish desires. She needed a lot of attention around her double lattes and I happily obliged. She exhaled loudly for the second time as she was taking a wild ride. A few minutes after, I had to let myself go and released all the grains I had been holding. She took it all in like a champ.

As we collapsed on the rug, I noticed for the first time that my apartment was in total disarray. The paintings on the walls were tilted, one of the dining hall chairs was laying on the side and the rugs had moved. The poor rug in the living room had absolved most of the pounding. I laid on my back as she placed her head on my chest. She looked up and we started kissing again. Within minutes, I was fully awake and we started making out.

“You want to hurt me tonight, don’t you?” She asked as I turned her around

“You give me no choice.” I managed to say

As I made my way down to her secret garden again, I told her I wanted this forever.

“Remember I told you I don’t want a boyfriend?” She reminded me

“Yes, so what does that make me?”

“I want you as a friend,… but with lots of passion and sweet benefits!”

I smiled as I entered her secret garden. She arched her back, pulled my head towards her lips and whispered in my ear, “You will make such a sweet friend!”

“By the way,” she added. “You owe me a new shirt.” I smiled and went about my business.

After that night, my sexual urge went up the ceiling every time Ama gave me the “I want you now” look. She had stirred up passions in me that I never knew existed. It was as if our bodies were specifically designed to be flooded with lust when we were around each other. Our relationship evolved from a one night stand to a friend with benefits arrangement which lasted longer than I thought it would. Ama never wanted love in a romantic passionate sense; she just wanted and needed the raging passion. She was the most fearlessly independent and highly educated woman I had ever met. The sexual tension she managed to generate in me was toxic, yet exciting.

Ama reeled me further into the friends with benefits world like no other had. She had rules that could neither be bent nor broken. She loved her single and autonomous life and she had no room for a conventional relationship. Her world was one where raw passions replaced romantic love and she owned her sexuality. Prior to Ama, I did not know that two people physically attracted to each other could carry on a relationship based solely on pure passion without the love factor. Deep down, I knew I was not designed to last in her world but I was glad for the experience.

With Ama, red roses, red wine, holding hands, candlelight dinners and moonlight serenades never came to mind. When Ama comes to mind, my thoughts just settle on the poor rug in my old apartment!

By Kwadjo Panyin