It’s Aunt Eunice who carved this life for me. I was twenty and innocent when she took me into her arms. She was forty-nine but looked like a woman in her late twenties. She was small and short even when she wore high heels. The only thing that made her look older was the kind of car she drove. She was small but had big things; big cars, big houses and a big heart. At first, I was a boy who went to their house to help around. That was when she was married. She was friends with my mom so whenever she needed me, she asked my mom to send me over.

When their marriage collapsed, I was still there running errands for her. One day she threw her hand around my neck and asked if I had a girlfriend. I didn’t have anyone in my life. The girl I was crushing on made me understand that I wasn’t on her level so I was down there at my level minding my business. I shook my head and smiled shyly “No Ma, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

It was the closest I’d gotten to her since I started going into that house. I remember thinking about how sweet she smelled, like roses in the morning. No, like a library with classic books. While her hand was around my neck and talking, she would pull me into her once in every minute. She told me, “I like you. Don’t see me as anything. I’m not that old. If you do the simple tasks I give you, there’s nothing else I won’t do for you.”

That very day we had sex. She warned, “Not a single soul should hear about this, not even your shadow.”

Shadows don’t have souls so I guessed mine wouldn’t hear about it anyway.

We started hiding. At first, it was okay to go to her house at any time but when it became sexual, we thought people would be looking at us so we met at secret places. She bought clothes for me and asked me to dress up like a man. When my mom became suspicious of my new lifestyle, Aunt Eunice came through for me, telling her she had been paying me for the tasks she asked me to complete. My mom wasn’t completely sold. She felt I was doing sakawa or planning to use her for money rituals. Because of that, Aunt Eunice got me a temporary job.

The relationship continued for over three years. The only time we slowed down was when her kids were around. I wouldn’t see her until the kids went back to school. I loved my new life. I lived like a rich boy. I gave my mom money and helped friends who needed my help. When they asked the source of my new lifestyle, I told them it was God’s blessings. The blessing that maketh a man rich and adds no sorrow to it.

Their divorce got bitter, to the point Aunt Eunice’s husband wanted to claim everything. She lost the house she was living in. She moved to one of her houses but she wasn’t happy about the change of place. She always complained about it to me. She got angry easily and took her anger on me. She hated men when the divorce was finally settled. She didn’t want to see me always. She travelled abroad without telling me and that brought what existed between us to an end.

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I got used to the life she introduced me to. The expensive nightlife and the perks that came with it. I didn’t think any woman my age could provide that so I started looking for Aunt Eunice in other women. I didn’t go too far from where I was planted. I started talking to Monica, a woman Eunice used to hang out with. She wasn’t extremely rich but she had the same taste as Eunice. I asked if I could visit. Our chats got longer and longer. One Friday night she came for me and it started.

Monica was different. Eunice took me as her boyfriend but Monica used me as a sex toy. She called when she needed sex. She would book a place and ask me to be there. She didn’t have time for chitchat. Straight to business and off we go. I didn’t see her often. We didn’t go out often. She was the meet-me-here-and-there kind of woman. We were hiding so someone wouldn’t report her to her husband who was abroad. She took care of me too. I saved money and went back to school.

We broke up when her husband decided to come back for good. She didn’t tell me. She stopped picking up my calls and later blocked my line. Months later when we met, she said sorry and advised me to look for a woman I could own. “Find your age. Begin life with her with the future in mind. You’re a good boy. No one our age would take you through forever.”

I tried Angelina. She was in my class. One pretty girl who turned heads wherever we went. For the first time, I was taking care of someone and I didn’t like the feeling. I was the one who paid for the dates and paid for the Uber. The bill comes and she pretends she doesn’t exist. Once, twice I knew this wouldn’t go on for long. I wasn’t raised to be the leader in a relationship. I’m a man who wants to be led by a woman. Society may call me names but it’s alright. A man can also deserve good things.

Less than a year and we had fought about twelve times. It all had to do with provisions. She told me I’d changed. “At first you took me to places. You paid the bills. You made me feel special. Who are you now? I don’t know. What happened to who you used to be?”

Who I used to be? I used to be that boy who was fashioned for old women. I missed that. Old women have a certain smell the young ones would never have. It’s like a smell of vintage. You only get it with age. Money can’t buy it. Only age can. I miss that smell. It’s an aura on its own. It makes you feel like you own something precious. The fragrance that comes from a library or from a cedar.

I wanted that aura again so I started searching. I went to places I once visited with Eunice and Monica; Bars, restaurants, pools, shops. I smiled wide and was very nice to only the vintage women. One day I landed Barbara. She was fifty-six and a four-year-old widow.

She didn’t hide me. Her kids didn’t like me. She told them I was a good company but they couldn’t stand to see me around their mother. Her first daughter was a pain in the ass. Her second daughter was like a stiff neck. Her son didn’t talk much but acted much. Together they were like a swarm of bees around my head. They won. They took their mother away from me. We dated for only four months.

I think I’m addicted. Addicted to women who are twenty or more years older than me. I’m addicted to what they bring to the table; care, love, mothering and the fact that they make life easy. I’ve been single for over a year now. It’s been hard getting a sugar mommy these days. I’ve been introduced to a few but they are all occupied. They introduce me to their friends and they also have something going for them. It’s not easy being alone but I’d rather be alone than be with a woman I’ll take care of, financially, emotionally and also care for her home.

I Told Him To Go Ahead And Do It

I miss the vintage smell of the women I’ve dated, that library fragrance. Sometimes I feel like I’m wasting my life because aside from everything, I’m a man and would like to have a family of my own. I want to have a family portrait on my wall. I want kids who’ll call me daddy, run around and break things. I want a woman I can be a husband to. I want it all from life but where do I start when all I want is a woman twenty years older than me?

—Clinton

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