DAY I DIS-FLOWERED ONE FINE IGBO GIRL PART 1
.
I met her while I was just strolling down the
neighbourhood with some of my homies. Na
so
she materialise, fine Igbo girl no pimple. I
gbadun her style with her small, sharp
dimple.
She so simple. She’s go an ice cream
(yuzedu’s
voice) lap so fresh so clean with her pointed
semi-grown twins. I felt like squeezing the
damn thing right there I couldn’t hold back
or let go, she’s so damn sweet. In fact, she
would pass for a candy. As a sharp
Northerner
nigga, I popped my collar and hollered “Hi” I
greeted her with a very nice tone. “Hello” she
replied me with a smile on her face. “Shoo, e
be
like I go follow dis babe o. She even reply me
come dey smile join” I tot. “Guy, follow am
na, u
dey jones o” my guys encouraged. I
summoned
courage follow d babe. “How are you girl” I
asked softly. “I’m fine, and u?” She replied
like
a
matured girl and asked back. “I’m gud. I’m ..
(I
told her my name st8) nice to meet u, may I
knw ur name?” I asked. She said her name is
Joy. “Joy u’re such an angel, which of the
heaven did u come from?” I teased. “U’re not
serious” she said as she smiled with a dimple
on
her cheek.
“Yeeeee, omo dis babe na die oh, if I
no toast dis babe make I die” I said to
myself.
“So do u stay around?” I asked her wit a kind
of
charming smile on my face that no girl, I
repeat
no girl will ever resist. “Ikoyi, and you?” She
said and asked where I live. I told her and
she
said fine. We got to a place and she said she
going to the market to buy provisions. I
asked
her if she don’t mind if I escort her and she
said
no. So we both entered keke napep as a
sharp
Northerner dude I paid for d keke rider
immediately. I followed her and she bought
all
that she wanted and we came out and too
another keke to the main bus stop where she
took a bus to her place.
She told me she’s 20yrs old and I told her
I’m
25 (na my soccer age be dat oh). We
exchanged phone numbers and we both
departed. I called her the following day and
we
chatted fine. I told her I missed her already
she
just laughed. She said she will be coming to
the
market by the weekend and that she will like
to
come see my place. I said ok fine, I was so
happy that day that I celebrated with a big
bottle of stout. No be small tin oh… I couldnt
wait for weekend to come I need to see dis
fine
babe. I’ve never had it my way with such kain
sweet potato. Sunday came and I arranged
my
crib wella that you’d think I’m expecting
Queen
Elizabeth, the Queen of England.. I Cleared all
the dirty laundries, package dem for one
coded
corner. Sweep everywhere as usual. Spray
some perfumes. I was damn broke dat day I
had go and borrow some doe from a friend
to
buy some stuffs for entertaining my guest. I
bought and apple juice, a pack of short bread
biscuit and placed dem nicely inside my mini
fridge. I brought out my precious SK (high-
grade) from the freezer, I like it when it’s cold
it
makes the brain to chill yamean. I cut a very
small amount frm the SK and wrapped a very
tiny sized joint, hit the bathroom/toilet, light
my
stuff while I’m shyyyyte… I smoked my thing
with no rush, cleaned my a’ss and then
grabbed my mouth brush and toothpaste and
cleaned my mouht up. I took my bath and
came out fresher than ever! I was dressing
up
when my phone rang, it was Joy, I picked the
call and said “Hello Joy!” Her sweet voice
came
in “hi, good morning” she said, I noticed the
time was 11:45am just 15mins to noon. She
told me she was at the bus stop now and I
quickly dressed up, spray my self and
dashed
out to pick her fine a’ss up.
.
click on the link below to continue reading
http://naijanoisemakers.com.ng/2016/12/10/day-dis-flowered-one-fine-igbo-girl-part-1/

EATING THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT PART 1 .
Jide Babalola was having a bad day.What worried him was not the fact that he seemed to be having a progressively bad day every day for the past three months. He was concerned because he was beginning to get used to it. And that was not a good thing.The kitchen of the Babalola household was redolent with the smell of something fried and spicy, but the ambience was ruined by the emotions running riot in the fragrant space. A plate on the counter washeaped with an appetising load of golden toast and fried eggs, a cup of coffee steaming beside it. As mouth-watering as the food looked, it was the object of dispute that morning. Jide stood over the meal, arms crossed as he faced his wife, who sat on the other side of the counter, pretending to be busy.“Patricia.” He said softly. His wife ignored him, and concentrated on furiously tapping the keys of the laptop in front of her. Early on in their marriage, whenever hecalled her full name like that, she would give him her full attention, because it usually meant he was in a serious mood. “Patricia, can you at least respond when I call you?”She stopped typing and looked up at him over the edge of the laptop. Her eyes were smouldering with anger; if looks could kill, he would have been vaporized by her gaze.“Am I deaf or are you blind?” she retorted. “You’re standing no farther than three feet away from me in this small kitchen and you want a formal acknowledgment to show I can hear you?”Jide clenched his jaw. “Is it a crime to ask for simple courtesy?”She glared at him for a moment longer, then tapped a few buttons on her laptop and closed it gently. When she faced him, arms folded on top of the laptop, insinceresmile on her face, he sighed inwardly. Her attitude was about to get worse.“Yes, lord and Master.” Patricia jeered. “Your servant is listening, please speak.”Jide sighed, and then chose to ignore the sarcasm in her voice. “Like I said, I’m running late so I won’t be able to eat this morning. I understand why that would upset you.”Patricia laughed. There was no humour in the sound. “Oh no, i don’t think you understand at all. But you will. Very soon.”“And what does that mean? Is that a threat? I’m sick and tired of all this, woman. Every day it’s one quarrel or another.”“Yes it seems that way, doesn’t it?” Patricia cut in. “Let me see, yesterday you were angry because I didn’t make breakfast for you, right? I apologized and explained I had a work deadline to meet but you stalked out. Today I wake up early to fry you eggs and now you’re saying…”“That’s why I am apologizing!” Jide yelled.Patricia raised a brow and allowed his shout to fade off before she clapped her hands slowly. “By shouting, right? You have a funny way of apologizing o…”Fifteen minutes later, Jide’s Sienna pulled out angrily from his compound. Setheing at the memory of his conversation with hiswife, he ignored the greeting of his securityguard and sped out of the estate where they lived, almost brushing a yellow tricycle into a gutter. He ignored the driver’s yell, increasing his speed as he took out his annoyance on the road, leaning on his car horn and yelling curses at any driver that dared to be slow.He knew it was just transferred aggression, but he couldn’t help himself. Despite all the self- help books he had bought and counselling documents he hadread online, his marriage seemed to be growing more strained by the day. He and Patricia had only been married less than two years and although he had been advised the point they were in would be the most stressful, he couldn’t imagine things getting any worse than they alreadywere.When Jide Babalola pulled up at the commercial law chambers where he worked as a brand communication manager, he forced himself to calm down before he left his car. He looked at his wristwatch and frowned as he realized he had actually reached work too early. His conscience pricked him as he rememberedthe things he had said to his wife in anger because he thought he was late, but he knew when he returned from work, the argument would continue if he dared to bring it up. He sighed and flipped down the mirror above his head so he could adjust his tie before he took the elevator tothe floor where his office was. He knew he looked good; the confidence of his long-legged stride was somtheing he had used years to cultivate. It was part of his job to project that corporate look and the admiring looks he received as he made hisway to his office attested to the fact.But Jide knew looks weren’t the most important thing. Peace of mind was. He greeted his secretary and breezed into his office and his practised smile faded as he settled behind his desk and sighed. He sincerely wished he could turn back the hands of time to this morning. If he hadn’t misread the time, he might have been able to eat a little of the breakfast Patricia had made for him…He frowned as his office door opened, then whipped up his professional smile a she recognized the person who had barged into his office. It was his colleague,Anita Bankole. Her tight dress stopped justabove the knee, sheathing her curves, the red colour the exact same shade as the lipstick heavily coating her mouth. He winced internally as he wondered if there was anything subtle about Anita. She was the personification of in-your-face attitude and her habit of bulldozing her way into his office without knocking was annoying.Jide was careful to keep his expression pleasant, however. She was one step above him on the corporate ladder; it wouldn’t be wise to show his displeasure.“Jide, my dear!” she squealed, walking over to him, her high heeled shoes clicking on the polished floor as she came around the side of his office table. He started to stand up, but she waved him back into his seat.“Good morning, Anita… oooof!”His greeting was cut short as she sat on him without warning and pressed her lips against his.And that literally, was how the first source of temptation fell into Jide Babalola’s lap….. Jolayemi has been unemployed since 3 years that he finished service and he is already twenty-five years of age…. He was walking down the road when he saw a signboard with vacancy written on it….he smiled buh it was short lived when he saw the condition attached…. 15 years of experience,abeg how old am I,he said aloud before walking away having one destination in mind….third mainland bridge
. click on the link below to continue reading www.naijanoisemakers.com/2017/08/12/eating-forbidden-fruit-part-1/

Jesus...

It's deflowered and not "dis-flowered" nor is it "disvirgined". Mistakes people make.

ADEBIMPE THE FACEBOOK GIRL PART 1 (S*x, Hatred, Revenge, Love, Betrayed) (Completed) .

Early february. I met adebimpe on facebook as a mutual friend to one of my friends. One thing led to another, we started chatting on BBM and early march, we started E- dating. 3weeks ago, we discussed on how we will see facially and she suggested to travel down to meet me in akure if only I can send T.fare. Adebimpe is a student of uniport so she fully based in PHC. I was so happy that I started day dreaming how the visitation will look like, the romance, fun, love-making etc. . On the 14th of april, I sent 10k into her account as Tfare. She called me to tell me she got the money. And the travelling preparation began. The D-day came. I have cleaned up my room, bought foodstuffs, bought a new pack of CD., wen she dropped at akure garage, I told her to pick a bike to my house address which she did, she got to my house at around 5pm. I ushered her in, gave her soft drinks and we were chating. Wen it was 6pm, she shocked me by telling me she has a cousin here in akure and that’s where she will be staying throughout her 3days of stay and dat I shd visit her at her cousin’s place the following day. I was so sad but I didn’t show it, I faked a smile and walk her off to take bike. I come dey reason am say “se na like dis my 10k go waste?”. The next day, I didn’t go to visit her and I lied that I was sick with the mindset that she will come to my place instead. But na lie, all she could do was to call me and ask after my health. That nite, I couldn’t sleep. I was just wondering how silly I am. I just put my fone in silence and forcefully slept off. As I woke up around 6am in the morning, I picked my fone and I saw a text from adebimpe. Which says “baby u knw I will be leaving today, wat time should I come to visit u so as to get my return Tfare”. Chaiii, na so my head spark . click on the link below to continue reading
http://naijanoisemakers.com/2017/02/02/adebimpe-facebook-girl-part-1/

HOW I CHERISHED MY SISTER PART 1 . IF YOU WANT TO THREAD THE PATH OF REVENGE, YOU MUST DIG TWO GRAVES – Some wise guy or something, I’m not good with their names I just take their words to mind. A professional “do it all” consultant. From finding missing persons or object to high profile assassination; I’m the guy to call. Been in the business for a while, so on my worst days I’m am considered an experienced professional and on my best days I am a bleeding expert. My name is Kunle Smith and as I lie down here in a pool of my own blood waiting for death’s cold embrace, I cannot help but ask the question : HOW THE Bleep DID IT COME TO THIS. To answer my question I thought back to when it all started to go wrong… The very beginning : Apologies in advance for the gritty nature of what I am about to tell you. Some of us had it rough in the origin department… It’s a Cinderella story really, I was the unplanned fifth of five boys left to fend for myself after my mom died giving birth to number six, the only girl, Vera. The only good thing I had, brothers had all gone off and wound up dead or in jail where they wound up dead anyway and my father buries himself deep in liquor ever since my mum died, hardly gives us the time of day. “I’m hungry!” Vera would yell when she couldn’t hold it in anymore. My father would throw an empty bottle at her as he growled his usual response “be glad I give you a pilow to sleep and a roof over your head, you want something to eat, work it out for yourself.” crying she would beg to go out with me and I would take her. She was special, did all I could to protect her, but really she was the one always taking care of me. Because when she started to put on her lonely lost child act in the center of a town the attention of all the bleeding hearts in the town focuses on her and while they were busy trying to comfort her, I would slowly creep behind them, help myself to all the fancibles and valuables in their pockets and be gone before they realise it. We were happy until one faithful day…. We had a great run, plenty of loose wallets in heaping pile, we were planning on how to go about our spending. “Let’s get ice cream” Vera was saying, when they showed up. About six guys none of them was over twenty by the looks of them but they were all bigger than me. ‘good idea little Dam’ said one of them, “after that we can go to Freddie’s and get us each a girl for the night” added the one who struck me as the leader. With anger I stepped in front of them protectively standing over Vera and our money and said “stand back, our hard work, our money” the leader replied “but it’s on our turf so that makes it our money you are either going to hand it over or get bloodied, you and your pretty little Dam sister, your choice” he laughed. ” Stay away from us” I warned. He came forward eerily looming over, he bent low his face inches from mine and with a suffocating foul breath said “Who’s gonna make me” and all of a sudden they descended on me with punches, sticks, and wait was that a hammer? Oh OK it was a big fist, felt like a hammer though. It was hell I have never experienced such physical pain in my life before. With spared glance I saw Vera throwing rocks at them screaming “leave my brother alone” I wanted to scream, tell her to run but my voice wasn’t working. Then one of Them walked over to her and tried to grab her but she wouldn’t let him. She was squirming under his loose grip I was screaming “vera no, leave her alone!” forcefully Vera managed to break herself free from her attacker. she had used her legs to push as hard as she could against the guy, it’s resulting force propelled her forward right into the main road. And then I HEARD: PAAAAAAANM PAAAAAAANM, it was getting dark so no one really saw it coming, no one heard it blew it’s trumpet, not until it was too late. VERAAAAAA! I screamed with all my strength. It was a freaking horror show me on my knees unable to move, couldn’t stand, couldn’t run, Vera was screaming as the truck hit and then ran over her, I was helpless wishing for it all to stop but it didn’t, almost immediately after everything was quiet. Our attackers fled, the driver fled too he had been driving Without headlights that’s why I had not seen him in time. The truck had crushed her thoroughly scattering Vera’s body parts all over the road. With an overwhelming, an immeasurable and an unimaginable grief in my heart, a realisation came to me: this world is a cruel world, only the wicked thrive. And vera was an angel the world was not meant for her let her go back to heaven that’s were she belongs with angels like her. “goodbye Vera watch over me, they didn’t kill you but they are the reason you are dead and thats the same thing to me, watch as I bring down hell upon those that brought you this gruesome fate”…. I vowed. ……After that horrible incident, to become stronger, I joined gangs, pushed drugs, abused drugs, engage in Street fights, gang wars, pimped girls over the years, A bloody waste of time if you ask me. For none of it made me strong the way I wanted to be. It was when I got arrested and was sent to prison, that I found the kind of strength I was looking for. Warmed my way to the hearts of the inmates quickly enough. it was after I told my story and expressed my determination for revenge that one of the prison bosses took me in, thought me everything I need to know. Trained me in combat and gun battle, thought me the best revenge path to take. After serving four years of prison time I was released three years ahead of schedule for good conduct, I wasted no time in plotting my revenge course, using the connection Don piccolo (my prison boss) gave me, finding my first target wasn’t hard: The Driver. I traced him to his home town, where he was a mechanic. Immediately I saw him, eight years of anger welled up inside of me. I walked up to him and asked “do you know me”. He gave me a once over look and said “no can I help you with anything?” “you don’t remember me” I asked again. He stopped what he was doing and looked at me then asked “Who are you”. “Do you know vera?” I answered his question with mine. “No and I would like you to leave my property, I am not comfortable with you on it”, he replied as he looked up into my eyes and took a step back. Guessing he must have seen it, the murderous intent in my eyes. Before he could speak I asked him “do you remember the little girl you crushed to pieces eight years ago with that truck” pointing to the last truck at the roll of vehicles on the left. His eyes widened as he remembered, he raised his left hand that held a huge metal spanner and tried to hit me with it but I was quick, I stepped back thrusting forward I jabbed him on the jaw, he staggered back. seeing that he couldn’t fight me he ran back so fast inside his shop and locked the wooden gates, I could hear his footsteps retreating deeper inside. something shiny caught my eyes. The fool had left the key to the truck he was repairing on the ground I picked it up and climed in, then started it, and drove it straight through the gate, as the gate shattered he came into view, his back against the wall, his chest heaving so high I thought his heart was gonna bust out, his eyes as wide as they could go. With a tinge of satisfaction and a small smile on my lips because I liked the fear that resonated from him, it was the same fear that vera felt before dying, I drove the vehicle straight at him crushing him against the wall behind him, I came out of the truck, went out to pick surrounding flowers. Wasn’t really comfortable with it, I didn’t want to leave any trail for the police to track, but I believed it was the right thing to do. The Don had said that It’s meant to be like a sense of knowing for Vera that her killers hadn’t gone unpunished. plus by the time the police caught up, i would have been done with my vengeance mission, dissappeard and started a new life. Placing the flowers on the dead driver I muttered ‘for Vera’.

. click on the link below to continue reading www.naijanoisemakers.com/2017/08/14/cherished-sister-part-1/

BIRTHDAY S£X PART 1 (Completed) .
It was my 21st birthday and I was on my way to see my girlfriend in school. She stayed off campus in a 3 bedroom flat which she shared with two of her friends, Tolu and Tochi. Tolu was short, dark skinned, attractive, Tochi however was a bit taller and light skinned, but still reasonably attractive. My girl’s bestfriend however was Ife, who was in the same department as her and whose best feature (in my humble opinion) was her big br**sts. Apparently the four of them were taking me out for a meal and drinks that night. I arrived at their house and rang the doorbell, Tolu answered it, wearing a dressing-gown, obviously still in the process of getting ready to go out, she gave me a kiss on the cheek, wished me happy birthday and ushered me into the house. I asked where my girl was and she replied that she was in her bedroom, but didn’t want me to come in just yet, as she had a surprise for me. I went to sit down on the couch, but Tolu quickly stopped me, and pointed me towards a chair placed in the middle of the room, as apparently I had to be centre of attention in the middle of the room. I didn’t see the point in arguing so I took the chair. But as soon as I sat down, I felt my arms being pulled back behind the chair and heard a click and I could feel my hands were restrained. I looked behind me and saw that my hands had been handcuffed behind the chair. I turned my head back around to protest and saw Tochi and Ife were now standing next to Tolu, both also wearing dressing-gowns. “What do you think you’re playing at?” I said. “There’s been a slight change in plan” Tolu informed me. “We’ve decided not to take you out after all, Instead we’re all going to have a cosy night in.” “Why the handcuffs? And where is Moji?” I demanded. (Moji being my girlfriend) “Well, as we’re not going out we had to think of a way to treat you, as it’s still your birthday after all, and Moji kindly agreed to let us have some fun with you, but we didn’t want you running away, getting impatient or generally doing anything we don’t want you to, so we’ve had to handcuff you to the chair.” Tochi enlightened me. “And to stop your babe from interfering, unfortunately we’ve had to handcuff her to her bed, but don’t worry, she’s fine, and you’ll get to see her later. But for now, sit back, do as you’re told and most importantly enjoy yourself!” Ife Said. . With that the three girls undid the ties at the front of their dressing-gowns and to my amazement, one at a time, took them off. Tochi was the first to slip out of hers, revealing herself to be wearing just a pink bra and matching thong and then doing a little twirl to make sure I’d got a good view. Tolu took hers off next, to reveal a black push-up bra that gave her a nice cleavage and matching tie-side briefs, she also gave a little twirl to give me a good view. Finally Ife took her dressing-gown off, revealing a white bra that was struggling to contain her big br**sts and matching underwear that was revealed to be a G-string upon her completing a twirl. I couldn’t believe what was happening, Moji’s hot friends were in just their underwear in front of me, apparently ready to give me a good night, something I was more than willing to accept, even if it wasn’t being forced upon me via handcuffs, after all this was already turning out better than my wildest dreams! . click on the link below to continue reading www.naijanoisemakers.com/2016/09/27/birthday-sx-part-1/

Pascalblinks:
DAY I DIS-FLOWERED ONE FINE IGBO GIRL PART 1
.
I met her while I was just strolling down the
neighbourhood with some of my homies. Na
so
she materialise, fine Igbo girl no pimple. I
gbadun her style with her small, sharp
dimple.
She so simple. She’s go an ice cream
(yuzedu’s
voice) lap so fresh so clean with her pointed
semi-grown twins. I felt like squeezing the
damn thing right there I couldn’t hold back
or let go, she’s so damn sweet. In fact, she
would pass for a candy. As a sharp
Northerner
nigga, I popped my collar and hollered “Hi” I
greeted her with a very nice tone. “Hello” she
replied me with a smile on her face. “Shoo, e
be
like I go follow dis babe o. She even reply me
come dey smile join” I tot. “Guy, follow am
na, u
dey jones o” my guys encouraged. I
summoned
courage follow d babe. “How are you girl” I
asked softly. “I’m fine, and u?” She replied
like
a
matured girl and asked back. “I’m gud. I’m ..
(I
told her my name st8) nice to meet u, may I
knw ur name?” I asked. She said her name is
Joy. “Joy u’re such an angel, which of the
heaven did u come from?” I teased. “U’re not
serious” she said as she smiled with a dimple
on
her cheek.
“Yeeeee, omo dis babe na die oh, if I
no toast dis babe make I die” I said to
myself.
“So do u stay around?” I asked her wit a kind
of
charming smile on my face that no girl, I
repeat
no girl will ever resist. “Ikoyi, and you?” She
said and asked where I live. I told her and
she
said fine. We got to a place and she said she
going to the market to buy provisions. I
asked
her if she don’t mind if I escort her and she
said
no. So we both entered keke napep as a
sharp
Northerner dude I paid for d keke rider
immediately. I followed her and she bought
all
that she wanted and we came out and too
another keke to the main bus stop where she
took a bus to her place.
She told me she’s 20yrs old and I told her
I’m
25 (na my soccer age be dat oh). We
exchanged phone numbers and we both
departed. I called her the following day and
we
chatted fine. I told her I missed her already
she
just laughed. She said she will be coming to
the
market by the weekend and that she will like
to
come see my place. I said ok fine, I was so
happy that day that I celebrated with a big
bottle of stout. No be small tin oh… I couldnt
wait for weekend to come I need to see dis
fine
babe. I’ve never had it my way with such kain
sweet potato. Sunday came and I arranged
my
crib wella that you’d think I’m expecting
Queen
Elizabeth, the Queen of England.. I Cleared all
the dirty laundries, package dem for one
coded
corner. Sweep everywhere as usual. Spray
some perfumes. I was damn broke dat day I
had go and borrow some doe from a friend
to
buy some stuffs for entertaining my guest. I
bought and apple juice, a pack of short bread
biscuit and placed dem nicely inside my mini
fridge. I brought out my precious SK (high-
grade) from the freezer, I like it when it’s cold
it
makes the brain to chill yamean. I cut a very
small amount frm the SK and wrapped a very
tiny sized joint, hit the bathroom/toilet, light
my
stuff while I’m shyyyyte… I smoked my thing
with no rush, cleaned my a’ss and then
grabbed my mouth brush and toothpaste and
cleaned my mouht up. I took my bath and
came out fresher than ever! I was dressing
up
when my phone rang, it was Joy, I picked the
call and said “Hello Joy!” Her sweet voice
came
in “hi, good morning” she said, I noticed the
time was 11:45am just 15mins to noon. She
told me she was at the bus stop now and I
quickly dressed up, spray my self and
dashed
out to pick her fine a’ss up.
.
click on the link below to continue reading
http://naijanoisemakers.com/2016/12/10/day-dis-flowered-one-fine-igbo-girl-part-1/

Consecrated illiterate, it is deflowered not dis-flowered!

MY AUNTY ANNA ROSE PART 1 . I am nineteen. And yet to fu-Ck a girl. Yea, you can begin screaming ‘WTF!’ all you want. Well, that wouldn’t change a thing. Or would it? Let’s get back to the real story now again, shall we? Fine. So…I started seeing porn at the age of thirteen. I was in High school then and always asked my friends for their dirty magazines. I loved women (…and still do of course. Wonder how I shouldn’t when I ain’t g@y) and was always attracted to more matured ones (MILFs mostly). Even though I craved to fu-Ck one day, I always never had the courage to approach any girl who was within my age bracket to ask her out. This meant I would continue with endless fantasies (…like Genevieve Nnaji giving me a boob job. How silly though!), porn and masturbation. By nineteen, I had developed what was becoming one of the largest d!cks for someone my age. My friends had always talked about how large it was and even never minded telling their girl friends. I was never bothered too as I only found it pleasing and largely a source of man pride. They claimed the pecker had only gotten that big because I started fu-Cking girls from a very tender age. I knew better but I never told them how wrong they were (they were duns after all). Whenever we talked about sex, my experiences with porn always looked to substitute for me and over time, most of them began asking me for a couple tips on how they could please their girls. It was quite hilarious! (…and you can see why I called them d*ns. Haha) The closest I had gotten to having sex was with a visiting sister to a neighbor. As a result of my area of training I somehow became of help to the neighbor in question. He always gave me little tasks to carry out on his behalf of which he pays me for. I had just gotten into my third year in the university and I had a fair idea of what he always gave me to do. It was on one of such assignments that I got to meet Mary (now, not the mother of that guy who died on the cross. This one is quite not as innocent). She was far older than myself. At least she was fifteen or seventeen years ahead, and married. I had gone to my neighbor’s place to carry out one of the usual tasks who leaves me with only to meet her at home. After introducing myself, she allowed me in and soon we became friends and got talking. Our conversation was so vast that we soon began talking about the consequences of having lots of weight as human. It propped up an argument as to which, men preferred most. The fat or the slim. I said it was the later of which she did not totally agree to and I knew why. She was a bit plump but was nonetheless married although without kids. She tried presenting all her argue-facts and in the attempt asked me if I knew what it was like having a woman with lots of flesh in bed. I answered like I had tried both of the two sides before but that could not convince her. Subsequently, she raised her flowing skirt almost entirely up to her waist, revealing her fleshy thighs. While she did so, she held onto one of the thighs and asked me if I knew what that succulent thigh meant to most men. She tried emphasizing it by grabbing onto the flesh there and bringing herself closer to where I sat. All along I was smiling but not aroused in anyway. And I still assume she was equally not aroused in any way what so ever. However, after she got as close as she could manage, she urged me to feel the flesh. Her skirt was still held to her hip by one hand while the other grabbed the underneath of the thigh in question. We both were still joking and arguing about it at the same time. I still had intentions of continuing with the task for which I visited and all I planned to do was settle the argument and return to the work. When she repeated the request, I laughed and told her she had too much flesh and how I didn’t fancy it. To this, she further asked me to feel her thighs and that I never knew anything about plump women. I responded by placing a hand on it, telling her it made no difference on what I felt and removed my hand. She rejected my attempt and insisted I would do so again. She even said I would have to try to grab the thigh with both hands. I laughed and said it was not necessary. She made a face and said she never liked what I was doing. In response, I succumbed and made to grab her laps as suggested. However, mistakenly, as I did so, I unintentionally dipped my right fingers through the cut of her p@nties thereby finding her crotch (and how I liked the miracle!). She was partly damp there which I felt was from sweat. But equally full of curly hair. My other hand had held onto the other side of her laps and was already making a move to lift the enormous thing. But with the right one right inside her p@nties, everything paused. She did not utter a word and even when I said I was sorry and tried taking my hand away, she shut up her thighs and caught my hands in between both legs. I remained stuck. She pulled me towards her and that brought my hands straight to her wet p**sy opening. I only made little additional effort and two finger found their way into her yearning p**sy! Unfortunately for her, we were only about to get anything going when we suddenly heard a knock on the door. This was followed by her sister’s return. We had been alone all along. My subsequent attempt to get this completed was completely futile as I was told she left the next day. Poor Danny! Really poor, Danny!! Now I only use that for my fantasies. I always imagine myself completing the process. Locating her p**sy with the same fingers, fingering them and getting to pull off her p@nties. This would be followed by either my sU-Cking of her p**sy; which I see as my most coveted desires; or giving her an instant fu-Ck. Nonetheless, all this will keep being fantasies and nothing more. Well, that was about my closest attempt and as you can see, if failed woefully. Now can we talk about more important issues of life? Good. I am the only son. And in a family of two issues, it simply means I have just one sister. Your daft head can’t just be telling you otherwise! Cannot remember the last time anyone had a transsexual for a sibling. At least not in Nigeria. That aside anyway. So…as I said, the other of my sibling is a girl. A very pretty girl to say the least. Unfortunately for everyone, this pretty girl hardly stays home. She just graduated from the university and got enlisted with a Runway outfit (for those of you who have looked up these last two words endlessly without having a clue of what it means; simply think of a super slim girl, on a super slim outfit, cat walking down a ‘super slim’ alley. That should do). She has always wanted to be a model and how I was sure she fits in. She has a body to die for. As for me, I will be getting out of school as a fresh graduate by the end of the current calendar year. I am studying Physics in school. The same course dad studied. Well…I am still some way from being what he has become in this field. In fact, he is currently a visiting professor at Nottingham Trent University in the united Kingdom and has been made a member of many professional bodies. This was good for the family but I seriously miss his parenting although am aint complaining. I had not chosen the course because of him or his success like it is the case with most Nigerian teenagers (Dad sells used bottles, so I wana be a bottle dealer. Pheew!!). I love physics and had long developed a big interest in it. Now I will soon be getting out of school with a degree in it. And trust me, I have never sorted. At least not yet. Now over to Mum. She is just great. I haven’t said yours aint equally great. But I’m like; mine is just great!! She is currently the caretaker dad if you get what mean. She works with a Finance Solutions company. Studied Banking in a school in the U.S back in the days and has maintained almost a single job line for over two decades now. Her coming from a wealthy family meant that she would virtually achieve all she ever aspired for except for having another male kid. That, she could not get. Too bad. But I know I do serve up in the absence of two. Like I said, I aint asking for the assist of a transsexual yet. She has been a wonderful mother and hardly complains about my dad’s reoccurring absence. Most times, when it appeared like she was going to feel his absence, she would look for her female friends to spend time with. I pitied her at such times. I was not getting enough p**sy; yea, true. But everyone knows for sure that the case of someone who has gotten so used to fu-Cking every day really looks largely different. Now do not ask me how I knew they always had it every day when he was in. Wonder how many times you would rather have it if you were dad or mum. Spend the next half-hour finding an answer. Mum has a sister. Annarose by name. And just like yourself, I have spent most part of my miserable life thinking of what meaning the name possibly had. yet, just like yourself too, I haven’t figured out. I have never come to understand what reasons grandpa and grandma had for giving her such a name. Those were meant to be two different name. Type the names on MS word and you would know how different. Unfortunately for me, she still bears the name and she is by far, my most favourite aunt from both dad and mum’s sides. She is just sassy! A closest definition of a bag of fun even though she is currently in her early thirties. She has never lost that impertinence we have known her for and each time she visited, I never got tired of her. She only just recently got married to Uncle Dee Dee; another character of a guy and they stay in Abuja. This has meant that I only get to meet her fewer times a year. However, Dee Dee currently completed a business trip to France which meant Annarose came close to suffering mum’s kinda predicament. What gladdened my heart though, was that, she made up her mind to stay with us until her husband made it back. Each time I remember this, I get so electrified! It is a pity I have been telling you this story without saying what day it is. Well, I am kinda sorry about that. Today is a Monday here. Do not know what date it is as you read this story but, just try to think today is a Monday. And yea, I also have not said who I am. Well, I said a little about myself back there but, let me kinda say more. I am Daniel by name. I don’t think my surname is that important. I don’t think. So I am Daniel. You should call me Danny though. Just a way of being benevolent and saving you the trauma of stressfully calling out the real thing continuously. Guess you usually end up very aggravated whenever you opt for the later. (Smiles). Well, I have just made up so feel better. That said. So…I am an undergraduate of Physics from the University of Nigeria. I am Ibo although my mum is an Efik. I am tall. Just a little shy of six feet. Handsome. Good- looking. Although I don’t know how these two are different. Rather athletic. Cannot remember the last time I jogged around my dad’s parking lot though, so I assume the fitness is more like hereditary than developed. I am light skinned but not fully fair. So kinda in a fix on that one. I don’t have a girl. Now, don’t ask me why. Just flow with the story. After all, that is why you are reading it. You can make the first move, if you are a girl though. That aside. Thank you. I assume that says it all for me. Or, am I forgetting something? Oh! Okay, Just remembered; my favourite colour is torques blue. How absurd anyway. But that’s that. I also prefer girls that are older than myself. Most especially when they are in their late twenties or thirties. Well, if you just stopped loving me because of this last one, you can move one. Have never complained about being disliked. No hard feelings.
. click on the link below to continue reading http://naijanoisemakers.com/2017/03/08/aunty-anna-rose-part-1/

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