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Aftermath (Conclusion)

1 Mar

I stumbled across this concluding part while I was searching for some documents on my Laptop. Just refresh your memory by reading Aftermath Here I hope you enjoy it….

…….Her husband barged in screaming her name……..

“WTF!” he mouthed on seeing us, there was no explanation we could give to justify what was happening,
“How do you explain to your Landlord that you wanted to massage his wife’s thoroughly beaten ass?”
I was dumbfounded; I looked first at him, then back at her in amazement but she just buried her head in the sofa, refusing to look up at him. I gently let go of her skirt which I’d been holding on to the whole time, looked at her husband solemnly and said “I was just trying to help”. The phrase “if looks could kill” couldn’t be more appropriate as he sized me up with his eyes, brushed roughly past me on his way to drag his wife out of my apartment; I made as if to stop him but how do you confront a man who is a full feet taller than you are, barrel chested and notorious for his short temper?
I let out the breath I had been holding in with a loud sound at their exit, a part of me wanted to stop him but the more reasonable side stopped me before I made a huge fool of myself. I paced back and forth my apartment, listening for sounds of more cries or beatings but none was forthcoming, at first I thought they went out but no sooner had this thought crossed my mind that I heard Jane moan.
‘Wow, that was fast’ I couldn’t help but say out loud.
Lurid thoughts of Jane and I, and what could have been, but for the unfortunate arrival of her husband flitted across my mind


‘Akin, don’t press too hard’ she moaned as I applied the balm to the red spots on her ass. I knew I would soon lose control over the flow of blood to my Penis, as much as I tried not to focus on it my brain refused to ignore the fact that I was massaging the ass of a woman I’d crushed since the day I moved into that apartment.
‘What’s on your mind?’ Her question broke me out of my reverie
‘N-n-nothing’ I stammered and concentrated on massaging her thighs too, and before I could stop myself, I planted a kiss on the tip of a particularly red bruise.
‘Hmmnnn…., don’t stop’ she encouraged
I began planting kisses on each of the most obvious bruises, then I started trailing the welts they formed on her skin with my tongue, alternating with kisses.
‘Stop Akin, it’s too much’ she called out and turned to her side.
‘what’s too much?’ I inquired
‘The pleasure, The pain…’I silenced her with my lips.
It was the most wonderful feeling ever, she was the perfect kisser, she knew the right time to suck, to nibble, … She would allow me just enough time to start deepening the kiss and pull away, always leaving me panting for more. I laid on my back and allowed her straddle me, bearing in mind that her ass was still hurting. My fingers traced the straps of her bra through the T-shirt she had on till I flicked her nipples, eliciting moans of pleasure from her, she swung her head backwards and I kissed the hollow of her neck. I bit my lips from crying out loud as I felt her fingers dig into my back then scratch all the way to my chest, leaving a trail of pain and pleasure. I returned the favour by slipping off her T-shirt completely to have better access to her breasts and I pinched her nipples right before I took them in my mouth and suckled them both together.
As we deepened the kiss, the bulge in my boxer shorts was becoming too uncomfortable as I could feel her flesh directly on the light fabric of the shorts so I guided her hands away from my chest and placed them on it. She chuckled as she made her way from my lips, tugged lightly on the hair in my chest, kissed my navel then blew my mind as her mouth closed on the shaft of my penis…


‘What a perv!’ My landlord’s voice rang out bringing me back to reality.
I opened my eyes to see my landlord and Jane in my living room, a huge grin on his face like the proverbial Cheshire cat. I wondered how long they had been standing there, watching me and it took just one look at Jane’s face to figure out the object of his amusement, my hands were still on my penis and the front of my boxer shorts felt sticky, I dropped my head in shame as I realized I had acted out my daydream with myself.


Pls drop your comments



13 Jan

In the course of our lives, we all get to a particular stage when it seems like we don’t know anything. To everyone around us, we’re dumber than dumb. All our decisions which seem brilliant at conception and inception almost always end up biting us in the rear. This shows how absolutely unpredictable this life we live in is. Anyways before I start digressing, let me go straight to what I have to say today…..

This post was inspired as a result of some events that happened to the ‘character’ in recent times.


I am the only girl in a family of five with four older brothers, my closest sibling is five years older than I am and most times when I think about this I wonder ‘was I conceived by mistake or was I an afterthought?’ Because five years is really no joke and after four children one would expect my parents to have put a stop to child bearing, my mum especially, but that’s a story for another day. Anyways being the lastborn and hard as it is to admit this, I am spoiled silly, (show me the lastborn who would readily agree to being spoilt) but not in the conventional ‘lovey-dovey’ way. Although there’s nothing I want that I don’t eventually get even if I was refused at first, so long as its not outrageously expensive or stupid. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon, infact a wooden spoon accurately describes it better but times, like they say change and when it did, we became more comfortable.
Of all my siblings, I’m the only one who on finishing from a private secondary school, proceeded to a private university and this is where it all begins.
You see, I lost my Mum when I was still in secondary school so my transition to womanhood was and is still a bit faulty, for instance I still don’t understand why I can’t clear my throat or scratch an itchy bum in public?. I still feel more comfortable in a good pair boxers than thongs, tights, G-strings and ‘what-have-yous’. I am not a tomboy though, I have all the right curves in the right places and I’m yet to meet that Guy with blood pumping through his veins who wouldn’t give me a second look when I walk past. Though I learnt the hard way how not to dress from friends, roommates, coursemates in the university, I must say I learn fast and well. I now ‘rock’ the best designers I can afford at least, and no matter how shabby I want to look, I tend to stand out.
I never knew I had real fair skin until I got into the university and learnt how a lady really takes care of her skin, and by the time I came back home for the first semester holidays, I had gone from a ‘-1’ to a well rounded ‘8’.
Anyways that’s enough background information for now.


I’m in my final year now and trust me a lot of water as gone under the bridge like they usually say and though there’s a lot I want to tell you about myself, (If Tolu Oke will allow) like my first real kiss, (Real because the earth really shook) my first sexual mistake ( Trust me, it was a real mistake) and more; but I’ll just seek for your advice on this and maybe if ‘He’ allows, you will be hearing more from me in the nearest future.
‘Final year no be beans’ like the saying goes is so true, the ups and downs of university life, 100-400/500 (as the case may be) can get very overwhelming and final year brings a welcome sigh of relief. For all those who have experienced it, you all know what I’m talking about. Final year is not a joke though, far from it you work your ass off to make sure you don’t have any surprises, its the hardest, most stressful year in the university but it is good stress. So I’m in my final year, seen it all, the good, the not so good, the bad, and the ugly, not quite done it all though close. Anyways its the final semester and though we’ve resumed, I’m at home; what I usually do is to go to school, finish my registration and come back home for a week is two before resuming fully. My dad who is now retired from civil service took up private practice as a consultant in one of our church’s hospitals in another state, so it was only my immediate brother currently serving in Lagos who was at home when I got back.
‘Pls put on the generator’ I call out to him from the kitchen where I was preparing our supper of rice and fried plantain, he had prepared the stew before I came so all I have to do is warm it.
‘They’ll soon bring the light back’ he answers
‘Ok’ I reply and continue cooking.
You see, Phcn light had been spoilt for close to two years in our neighbourhood and it was fixed recently so its availability is still very predictable.
True to his prediction, they restore power as I am dishing out the food and I quickly tune the Tv back to the program I was watching before it went off.
My dad is home for the weekend, so evening devotion is a must and as soon as its over, I resume my position in front of the Tv. My addiction to the Kardashian family knows no bounds, soon as they became a topic of discussion among my friends I made it a point of duty to keep myself updated on their activities.
I’ve had a long day, the stress of registration in school, combined with traveling and last but not least cooking and predictably soon, I doze off on the couch and by the time I wake up, I see my dad switching off the Tv and decoder but I stop him from switching off the main socket because we were charging some rechargeable lamps at the socket.
I enter my room and fall asleep immediately…

Very soon, I hear my dad’s voice as he shouts my name and I’m out of bed immediately, opening my eyes to a room filled with smoke. Confused, I find my way to the sitting room to find it even worse than my room, I can hardly see anything but soon my eyes adjusts and I see my dad trying to locate the source of the smoke.
One of the lamps we were charging had caught fire and the whole house was covered in smoke. Apparently, the lamp got too hot as a result of the continuous flow of current into it, so it burst into flames. My dad soon douses the flames with a bucket of water but still instructs my brother to switch off the main supply switch into the house.
It is 4.37a.m and we are in our compound, all the windows in the house opened, the back door opened, just to let the smoke out,  my dad and brother staring daggers at me as we wait for the smoke to clear out. They don’t have to say anything, their looks say it all ‘IT’S YOUR FAULT’ it screamed.

Please how is it my fault?

Tuesday the 16th

17 Dec

Sunrise that fateful morning was earlier than usual, ushering a day filled with warmth. Omo tossed and turned on the bed, unsure of what he would see on opening his eyes. The rays of the early morning sun streamed into the room, momentarily blinding him ad he opened his eyes, he squinted and shielded his eyes with his palm, groped round for a pillow and placed it over his head but he was already awake.
The stench from the vomit hit him strongly like a punch to the stomach, he rolled over as if to stand up but no sooner had his feet touched the ground that he swore loudly
‘What the f**k?’ He just stepped into a pile of wet clothes. The cold forced his eyes wide open and nothing could have prepared him for the scene that met his eyes. The room looked like a drunk, mad person’s abode, piles of clothing were haphazardly placed everywhere, no distinction between clean and dirty ones. Packs and cartons of groceries and unfinished meals were strewn over the floor, he felt so irritated he almost vomited. For a person like him who had OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder), this was a living nightmare.
The bed he just woke up on was the height of it all, the bedsheet had several marks and stains on it, cigarette ashes, spilled beer, spittle, oily stains and some that could only be as a result of recent sexual activity.

Omo couldn’t believe his eyes, he immediately squatted at an unlaid corner of the bed to properly survey his surrounding, using his shirt to cover his nose. several articles of women nothing were placed on the dressing mirror or what looked like it. The dressing mirror had obviously seen better times, the mirror was caked with dust and only a small circle in the middle was clean enough to be used, the dresser had already fallen apart but several planks of wood were attached to keep it upright. A gust of wind from the open window blew the stench of the vomit towards him again & he darted his eyes round, making a choking sound as he tried to locate it while wishing it came from outside the room.
He saw the body before he saw the vomit or part of it at the body’s feet as there was more at her mouth.

‘Hello ma’am’ his voice came out muffled from the covering over his mouth ‘are you alright?’.
She was lying face down on the floor beside the door which was why his eyes missed her at first, the wind must have blown the door open which made him see her clearly. He inched towards the edge of the bed, made as if to touch her but decided against it. She was too dirty for him to touch her with his bare hands, wrapping his hands with his shirt, he stretched to rough her feet, never leaving the part of the bed where he squatted.
‘Lady, pls get up’ he called out, shaking her feet all to no avail.

Omo was petrified, he hoped against hope that the lady wasn’t dead, heck he was yet to figure out how he got himself into this mess, who was the woman? Where was this place? and why on earth hasn’t he made a move to get out of the room?.
No sooner had this thought cross his mind that he became immobile, he looked on in horror ad a swarm of cockroaches found their way out of the many crevices and cracks in the room.
‘Lady, wake up….’ his voice was cut off by an unseen hand, he tried to move his arms, fighting off the unseen enemy but all came to naught. He tried to close his eyes and shut out the scene, but his eyes were pried open, he could only watch as the roaches drew closer, totally engulfing the body on the floor until there was nothing left. It was like everything they came in contact with disintegrated into more of them.
In no time, they flooded the room, the only place left untouched was the bed on which he was squatting, the roaches as if with a mind of their own started gathering, until they formed a human shape. Despite his fruitless attempt to shut his eyes, the shape morphed into that of a real naked woman, with flesh covering, a very beautiful one at that. At this sight, Omo almost passed out but was jolted awake by the touch of the cockroache-lady form, her touch felt slippery and soft, but lacked the warmth of a human.

She leaned towards him, her lips aimed at his and try as he may, there was no avoiding it, he was about to get kissed by a creature formed from a swarm of cockroaches, in a place that he had no idea how he got there. He tried to move his head but was shocked at how rigid and had become, his eyes were bulging out of their sockets, he could feel the touch of her palm on his face as she tilted her head to plant him a kiss with a mouthful of cockroaches.

Omo jumped up from the bed, drenched from head to feet in his own sweat. The rays of the sun blinded him momentarily and he shielded his face with his palm ing his vision was clear.
‘Phew, what a dream’ he sighed, looking around the room, finding solace in how meticulously arranged his clothes were, his shoes neatly arranged and polished. His reading table looked the same, books arranged in order of importance, lamp perfectly positioned to shine just enough light to read and not too bright to hurt his eyes.
‘Alas……’ he began but was cut short as he heard a scurrying sound, he could only look on as a cockroach came out of one of his shoes, then another, and yet another, then he screamed….!!!

The Babcock Affair

9 Oct

NB: Not a Love Story
I was so hungry; I bet I could devour a mountain of Eba. The class had been so boring and it had awakened the worms in my stomach. The cafeteria seemed so far away, each step seemed like torture. I almost leaped in the air for joy as I sighted the familiar corridor that would usher me into the walkway towards the cafeteria. I noticed a crowd at the entrance of the cafeteria and it struck me, it wasn’t time for lunch yet. My stomach must have also figured this out because it made a loud noise which sounded like a fart. I made a quick detour to the point where they sell snacks very close to the guest cafeteria as I didn’t have enough money to buy lunch at the guest cafeteria that afternoon. The aroma of the cafeteria hit me like a truck travelling at breakneck speed and my legs gave way as the pangs in my stomach brought so much pain that I was doubled over. But for the poles that were on the corridor, I would have lain sprawled on the ground. I held on to the pole, using it to support myself until I could stand upright. I met a couple of people placing orders for several snacks, so I had to wait a while before I could be attended to.
There she was, a paragon of beauty, ‘This babe na die o’ I thought to myself as she approached the counter to place an order too. She was unusually tall for a lady, with a perfect ‘figure 8’ body shape. My stomach growled once more, jerking me out of my reverie and I quickly beckoned to the sales guy to give me 2 pieces of egg roll and a bottle of water. As he turned to get my order, I heard the girl ask for two pieces of ‘sycamore tree’.
‘Sycamore what?’ I couldn’t help but ask out loud
‘Sycamore tree’ she replied, and pointed at it.
I followed her finger and burst into laughter as I realized what she wanted was ‘Cinnamon roll.’
‘I’m-m-m s-s-so sorry’ I stammered out winded with the combination of hunger and laughter, ‘its cinnamon roll’ I added ‘not sycamore tree.’
‘Okay, I thought it was sycamore tree’ she replied, her cheeks turning a slight shade of red.
Seeing my error and how much I must have embarrassed her, I quickly tried some damage control tactics ‘Never mind, I also made the same mistake when I was in 100 level.’
‘Yes, I called it ‘Singallon roll’ I replied as she burst into laughter. Her laugh was as melodious as her voice.
‘By the way, I’m Tolu, 300 level CIS’ I said to her ‘and you can stop laughing at me now madam sycamore’ I added with a wink.
‘So sorry I’m Tara, 100 level Economics Uncle singallon’ she replied, taking a swipe at me. I held her hand just in time and I could feel my skin tingle.
We were holding up the line and though my stomach was miraculously satisfied with the sight of a beautiful lady, I still felt the need to attend to it before the pangs came back worse than before. I was able to prevail over Tara to sit with me at the popular ‘zoo’ in front of the cafeteria while we chatted over snacks. She was having some registration challenges, typical 100level issues, and I offered to help her out in any way I could. We ended up having lunch together in the cafeteria and I got to know a lot more about her, we exchanged phone numbers and that was the beginning of a wonderful friendship.
Tara and I had a lot in common; the same taste in music, movies and as if that wasn’t weird enough we loved the same color, Green. Very soon we became an item all round school, attracting stares and hushed conversations whenever we walked by. My 6ft 1’ frame completed her 5ft 11’ perfectly; it was a case of milk and cocoa making perfection. We were inseparable, she had my timetable and I had hers too. We always met at least twice every day, once for lunch and the other to read and hang out till late in the night.
‘Tolu, where do you see this relationship going?’ she asked me out of the blues that fateful evening, on our way back to her hall. It was the eve of our graduation ceremony and we were coming back from the dinner organized for the graduating students, Tara had a thing for throwing questions at you when you were least expecting.
‘You know I really care for you…’ I began but was cut short by a security officer prompting us to say our goodbyes and go to our halls.
Tara knew my fear for the word ‘Love’; I wasn’t a Casanova but I had been hurt times without number, telling ladies I loved them only to hear a ‘thank you’ reply. I had purposed in my heart that the next lady I would tell I love would be the one I would get married to. Countless times, she had told me she loved me and all I said was ‘me too’. I knew she was worried that with me out of Babcock, I would give in to the temptations of NYSC camp and the outside world. She had extracted a promise from me to always come see her every two weeks, and that we would spend at least one weekend together once a month.
My feelings for Tara grew so much that I was scared for myself; if a day went by that I didn’t hear her voice, my night was sure to be hell. With the advent of the blackberry, everything was easier; we were always chatting, texting, sending VNs, and the likes. Though I still didn’t tell her I love her, I tried as much as possible to show my love for her in several ways, surprise visits, gifts, thoughtful gestures, I tried to be the perfect gentleman.
Her graduating class dinner was when I planned not only to tell her I love her, but propose to her. All the plans were in place, she was to sing Brian McKnight and Mariah Carey’s ‘Whenever you call’ with a male friend, but I was able to convince the guy to allow me though she never knew, and at the end of the song I would tell her I love her and propose.
‘Baby I’m so sorry, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it’ I had called to tell her earlier that evening.
‘But why? I thought you said you could take some time off work’ she asked
‘I have an 8.0 clock deadline darling, I might not be able to get back in time to finish up’ I answered.
‘Alright dear, guess I’ll see you next weekend then’
‘Love you dear, got to go prepare now…’ she continued‘
‘Okay then, let me know how it goes’ I replied and disconnected the call.
The dinner stated off nicely with comedian Seyi-Law cracking our ribs with jokes. I was wearing a black Tuxedo and she spotted a very lovely green gown that hugged her body tightly. I couldn’t get my eyes off her though she didn’t know I was around. I had waited until she came in so that we wouldn’t bump into each other mistakenly, taking a seat at the very front, close to the technical crew.
They were giving out awards and Tara already had two, ‘Take Home to Mama’ and ‘Most Fashionable (female).’ The duet was to come up after the awards so I made my way to the technical crew to get a microphone but soon I heard them call the next award ‘The Best Couple.’
I didn’t pay attention until I heard them call out a guy’s name and Tara. At first I thought it was a mistake until I heard the presenters announce:
‘..And the winner is Sodiq and Tara…’, my own Tara.

…….. Drop your comments……….

My First…

22 Jun

This one is dedicated to @Hardeyi Happy Belated Birthday Bro………. I know it’s coming in late but ‘Better Late than Never’ Right?? 😉 Hope you had fun though…. Enjoy 😉 😀

I’d been eyeing Chiamaka since the minute I set foot in that neighborhood, she was the only girl I “saw” in the area; it was love at first sight, but I wasn’t brave enough to walk up to her to tell her how I felt, I had to send her Elder brother who was a close friend to arrange a meeting. She walked into the eatery and time stood still, I watched in 3DHD as she walked down to my seat giving me a smile displaying a set of teeth that shone, I felt so proud of myself. As I stood up to play the ‘Perfect Gentleman’ , I suddenly felt a rumbling in my stomach signaling flatulence, and it would be a big one I envisaged; quickly I straightened up and removed her chair for her, settled her down into her seat and excused myself to use the men’s room. I silently cursed the pate of beans I ate the night before that threatened to thwart all my chances with her, as I technically ripped off the farts as soon as I was a safe distance away from her, or so I thought because by the time I got back from the toilet, I beheld a sight that was outrageously embarrassing. All the diners in the eatery were holding their hands to their nostrils, choking on their own breath as a result of my fart; as fate would have it, I was the only one coming out of the men’s room at that moment so all accusing fingers pointed at me. I tried to salvage what was left of my dignity by fanning the air with my hands and making choking sounds too but the effort was left to naught as a mischievous boy ran to my ass and smelt it proudly proclaiming loudly in the eatery “He Farted” (In conc Yoruba accent ‘Awon na Buso’ ). That was the proverbial needle that broke the camel’s back because Chiamaka stood up, walked towards me and gave me a resounding slap….!!!!!

Seyi! Seyi! I felt another slap on my face as my dream was mercifully cut short and I shouted out “I’m sorry now” “sorry about what!!!” My mother thundered, “Will you stand up now and go prepare for Church?” she continued. I sat up on the bed as I rubbed my cheek sorely dreading the rest of the morning as I was sure she would give me an earful for not waking up until she slapped me on the face which was the height of it. My Mum normally wakes us up in stages, and a Slap to the face is the final stage (In Mortal Kombat it’s called “FINISH HIM”); first she would call your name, knocking your door twice then give you like 2mins after which she comes into the room; second she would start slapping your leg softly for like 10secs, still calling your name. Stage four is when she starts getting annoyed, her voice is a little higher now calling your name in full “OluwaSeyii”, stretching the last syllable, if at this time you’re not up, your ass is gone because the next stage is a bowl of water on your face after which she rounds it all up with a resounding Slap, two in my own case. So as it stood, my pillow was already wet, and my head was pounding maybe as a result of the “Double combo” slap I got (Both from Chiamaka and my Mum) as I made my way to the bathroom to relieve myself. I quickly went about my morning duties suffering a little from a pounding headache and a soliloquy from my Mum about the dangers of excessive sleeping and so on, until everyone in the house knew that I really overdid it this time; all of them throwing in their own anecdotes to buttress an already overstressed point. By the time we were ready for church though, it had all turned into a joke as everyone was in high spirits making fun of me and my sleep, of the fact that Mum had to go to such an extreme, mimicking Mum’s way of waking us up and other funny awkward moments at home.

As we made our way to church, I spotted Chiamaka leaving her house and I wished my Dad would drive faster so I could catch a glimpse of her face before she turned into the corner and maybe I would chance a wave at her. Though we caught up to her, my hand froze at the thought of waving at her lest she ignores or do something worse; but though the spirit was willing as they say, the flesh was just too weak. I silently watched on, too dazed to even smile, I kept looking straight at her. Service was in our headquarter church which was very far from our house that faithful Sabbath so we had to drive a longer distance, almost 30mins till we got to the church; as we entered the premises of church I spotted friends that we’d known each other since we were little kids but had not seen because our parents attended different churches. I quickly detached myself from family, and started “rolling” with my friends all over the church premises, catching up with one another and generally having fun.

Very soon we were predictably tired and bored of the program so the bravest of us (which I was one 😉 ) sneaked out of the church and made for surrounding shops, three guys, myself towering over the remaining two. 3 of us met at a youth camp for the church the year before and we’d been inseparable ever since; we were notorious for our blatant disregard for authority at the camp and our funny, snide comments at the programs, I had so much fun at the camp with I.K and Precious though they were both igbos, and I was the only Yoruba. We became like brothers (In Ghanaian accent). After walking to the market in the area, we were on our way back when we noticed a beer parlor by the road side, and seeing as we’d been walking since in the hot sun, IK suggested we cool off with some minerals at least. To my utmost surprise, IK ordered a bottle of Star, I couldn’t believe my eyes I’d never even been inside a beer parlor, not to talk of taking alcohol; He turned to me and asked what I would take but I was tongue tied, “I’m about to lose face in front of these guys sha” I thought “and na me tall pass, make me sef carry one jare” I concluded. “Same” I told him and Precious to my chagrin now settled for a bottle of Maltina, but the deed was done, the beer had to be drunk. After two bottles, and endless trips to the bathroom, we stood up and started on our way back to the church premises; I wasn’t feeling unusual so I felt proud of myself, saying “you’re now a man” repeatedly. We were wise enough to buy some Tom-Tom on our way back so it masked the stench that usually accompanies alcohol (I don’t think that works though) and soon enough we were done at Church. I started feeling a little tipsy by the time we had gone half the distance home, saying a whole lot of gibberish, laughing out loud at everything and anything, just generally making a fool of myself, but by the time we got home, it was a totally different story.

Thankfully, my parents had to go for a meeting so I came home with my elder siblings, who really had no idea what was happening though or they acted like they didn’t, acting normally like everything was okay. After I forced food down my throat, I went out of the house still very much tipsy and disoriented; I stumbled upon Emmanuel, Chiamaka’s younger brother and told him to go get Chiamaka that I wanted to talk to her. “You mean Bro Kelechi?” He inquired confused “Chiamaka” I emphasized “and run along joorr” I added as I climbed the short wall beside their gate, nodding my head to the “mysterious imaginary music” playing through my ears.

I heard the bang of the door inside the house, signaling that someone would soon be at the gate; I made as if to jump down but suddenly the ground looked too far away, like it was moving nearer and farther away every second. As I heard the rattle of the lock of the gate been drawn backwards, I quickly made a decision to jump, and to my surprise I found out that the ground was exactly below my feet thus making a total fool of myself as I jumped and tripped on my own feet, falling face down on the sand. The gate was already open by this time and as I quickly tried to stand up, I only succeeded in raising a cloud of dust over myself, tripping and falling several times; just as I found my footing and crouched to raise my head up, I couldn’t stomach it again as I vomited thoroughly at the feet of whoever it was that stepped out of the gate. The dust had not completely cleared all this while so I had no idea who was outside until I raised my head up after totally emptying my stomach at his/her feet, and clearing my throat, spitting out every drop of alcohol inside my system, to find out it was Chiamaka’s Father…..


PS: There are no sequels to this that’s why it’s long, so please don’t ask me; I have so many unfinished ones already and I don’t want to add to it.


6 Jun

*Its been a while yet again…………… I know right……* Enjoy.. 😀

‘Akin’ ‘Akin’ I groaned out loud as I heard and recognized the voice of my landlord’s wife “Jane” I slipped my head under the covers, hoping against hope that she would leave, but that was not the case as she rang the doorbell and whispered my name yet again ‘Akin’, ‘Pls open the door for me’ I dragged myself out of bed, reached for my blanket and wrapped it round myself as I stood from my bed and made for the door, picking up the pieces of clothing strewn over the chairs in the living room. As I unlocked the door, she rushed into my arms, knocking me off my feet and into the nearest sofa; I quickly prepared myself for an awkward sitting arrangement, partly caused by my early morning erection and the fact that I was completely naked beneath the blanket. I succeeded in placing her just above my penis, on my stomach though I was sure she would still feel it on her, it was better that if she sat completely on it.

Tears streamed down her face as we sat there on the sofa; all my efforts to placate her proved abortive, after a while she said amidst sobs “He’s…. at.. it again….”, by “He” I knew she was talking about her husband, my Landlord; He has this habit of spanking his wife on the ass like a child every time they just had sex, He calls it “Atoning for Mortal Sin/Sin of the Flesh”. No matter how wonderful the sex was they would undergo this weird ritual, at first I assumed the screams I usually heard late at night was from the Sex,  especially since whenever I saw “Jane” my landlord’s wife the next morning, she wouldn’t be able to look me in the eyes, she was always embarrassed and would quickly scurry off. It wasn’t until we became close after I had an unsavory incident with her husband that I found out what really was happening, and this had been going for the past 5years of their marriage. I held her closer to me, and crooned in her ears continuously, “It’s ok, It’s alright, He can’t hurt you now”; I knew that her husband had crossed the line this time, there was no way I was going to take this lying low, although it’s really none of my business, I just couldn’t stand by and watch the man destroy such a beautiful woman’s self esteem. I purposed in my heart to have a heart-to-heart, man-to-man conversation with him immediately he got back from work that day, although the abuse had been on for a while, this was the first time Jane would run to my apartment crying, so I imagined He really overdid it.

After long, torturous minutes of holding and rocking her back and forth, I succeeded in calming Jane down and sh scooted to the side a little to make way for the discomfort she had been causing me since we landed on the chair; I quickly excused myself to relieve myself as I had been badly pressed before she rushed in, but there was no way I could leave her in the state she was in when she came in. I forced myself to be done in half the time I usually took in taking my morning Piss, causing some strain on my Penis; I quickly made a little detour into my bedroom to put on a pair of boxers beneath my cover cloth and returned to the living room to find her sprawled on the three-seater face down. As she heard me walk in, she called out gently “Can you help me rub some salve on it? It hurts”…. I went back into my room, picked up a bottle of balm and went back into the living room; my heart beat increased rapidly as I understood the gravity of what I was about to do, “Massage my Landlord’s wife’s Ass” “Me? A full grown Man, with blood pumping through my veins??…..”

Just as I dipped my fingers into the balm to apply it to her ass, Her husband barged in screaming her name…….


……………. To BE Continued……………. :D:D

This Shit Cray!

16 May

*Drags Vacuum cleaner in* Waow, this place looks deserted………. Its been a while…….. I know. I must confess, this story spiraled out of control while I was writing, I hope I was able to get it back on track though…. Enjoy… 😀 😉

P.S: Some Sexual Content ooo 😉

“The height of boredom in this house just pisses me off” I said to myself as I angrily switched from on DSTV station to the other, after enduring the BBA Stargame with my cousins who totally enjoyed it but had to leave to go see a movie with their friends. I was so relieved, thinking I could catch an interesting movie or music video but that was not the case; I fiddled with the controls and switched on my PS3 not knowing what to play since I was done with my soccer games and I was almost through with the adventure games, I didn’t want to exhaust them all at once, seeing as I was not sure when I would be opportuned to get new ones.

I reached over for my phone, browsed through my twitter account, answered my mentions tweeted some really wacky stuff but soon enough like I rightly predicted in my mind, I got tired of it so I started taking pictures and posting them via instagram, taking several crazy poses. I looked at the time, it was just 12pm, I had a long way to go before the end of the day and I was already bored sick; I switched off all the appliances, picked up the car keys and made for the door, sending a message to my Mum via BBM that I was on my way out, “where?” she promptly replied, “Just to shoprite jare” I replied sending a “cool and tongue-out smiley” to her, “Alright, have fun” she replied. 

Just as I opened the car door, she pinged me yet again “Tell Anita what you’ll have for supper” “Ok” I replied, as I scrolled through my contacts to ping our House help (Anita). “Hey, what’s up” I sent to her while I started the car, leaving the engine to warm up a little before I drove out, “Hi dear” she replied, I chuckled out loud to myself at the “kiss” smileys she sent with the “dear”, “What do u plan on cooking for supper?” I asked “And stop with the ‘dear'” I added “Spaghetti darling” she said this time adding a “batting eyelashes” smiley. I was at a loss for what to say, not because of her reply, but for her relentless effort in making sure I fuck her. 

Its no wonder that several times she would barge into my room, only with her towel on, and precisely timing it such that I would either be naked or half naked at the moment to pick up one trivial item or the other. The last encounter was pretty embarrassing for both of us, she came in as I was stepping out of the shower, butt naked as always, I walking to the bed to pick up my towel when she “supposedly” tripped and fell right on the bed her towel falling to the floor in the process. “Oops” she said and started batting her eyelashes, (Too much girls of the playboy mansion, I concluded ) her face going all red and licking her lips all at the same time, I have to admit I was really aroused (Which perfectly normal man would see a beautiful woman and not be??), my manhood stood at attention while I reached for my towel, but she beat me to it and handed it over from the bed, her eyes fixed on my manhood like it could save her or something. She tactically gave me the towel such that her hands brushed over my dick, I couldn’t help but  moan a little as desire suddenly filled my eyes and all I could think of was to have her right there and then on my bed damning the consequences; her breasts heaved up and down as she started breathing faster, watching my dick while I reached for her breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze. I knelt on the bed; one minute we were looking into each other’s eyes, the next our lips were glued together like our lives depended on it, my tongue explored every part of her mouth and hers mine too, my hands exploring every part of her sumptuous body, giving her the utmost pleasure.

She reached for my dick and smiled at me as she slid down and took me in her mouth, going back and forth as she brought me to heights of pleasure I had only read of in books, I actually spoke in tongues as she gave me the best BJ of my life right there on my bed. I couldn’t stop myself from releasing my self right there and then into her mouth, and she took it all in without taking her eyes off me.

As I gently laid her on the bed, tying her hands to the bed posts so as to have my way with her, suck her nipples, tickle her clitoris,, make her climax over and over again, I heard a loud fart…………….. It went on and on and on for almost 30seconds, I looked at her as she ducked her face in shame. I quietly undid the knots on her hands and picked my towel, unable to contain myself as I burst out laughing at the awkwardness of the moment, she also picked up her towel, covered up her naked self and made to leave the room, unable to believe that she just embarrassed herself in front of me.

As I reminisced about the encounter, I couldn’t help the slight erection I was feeling in my boxers at the thought of the Blow Job I got, but there was no way I was risking another “Farting experience”, the few days I was at home before I left for school after that first time was really awkward. 

I quickly answered her that I would have some of the spaghetti and ended the chat, as I pulled out of the house to go have some fun with my friends


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