Dear ishi,
Did you notice that the number of viewers and followers increased tremendously? This is not unrelated to the fact that your last update has sex-plicit contents!!!
S-e-x sells fast, and its real hotcake

Bring it on dear, we can't wait for Chilo to start having real or.ga.sms.
I will bring some of my fans over here. I see ITBOMB and Emperor are already here. Those guys can smell p.o.r.n from a mile.

Mazi_Omenuko: Dear ishi,
Did you notice that ...... I ....... can smell p.o.r.n from a mile.

Busted

Mazi_Omenuko: Dear ishi,
In case you run out of idea of what the mum would do to prince, let me suggest that she grabs the biggest kitchen knife she had, stormed into prince's room and met him sleeping. Then she, out of fury, raised the knife directly against the space in-between his laps and hit. . .again, and again!!!

haaaaa!! Small small o

Mazi_Omenuko: Dear ishi,
Did you notice that the number of viewers and followers increased tremendously? This is not unrelated to the fact that your last update has sex-plicit contents!!!
S-e-x sells fast, and its real hotcake

Bring it on dear, we can't wait for Chilo to start having real or.ga.sms.
I will bring some of my fans over here. I see ITBOMB and Emperor are already here. Those guys can smell p.o.r.n from a mile.

Mazi without s.ex is like a pen without it ink.....abeg make u leave dis born-again people alone.

Hu Ishî, chi han kun ta hun tantu hanta chan ta hu muhaà
(Dear Ishi, job well-done)

Miss Ishi, i hope dis isn't ur real life story.....but anyway, i dey feel u like tòtò. Carry go!!

fankasibe: Miss Ishi, i hope dis isn't ur real life story.....but anyway, i dey feel u like tòtò. Carry go!!

Good heavens!

Ishilove:
Good heavens!

so soon......are you already in the mood

Ishilove:
Good heavens!

You're welcome

Ishilove well done,reading the part where chilo was molested really bring back memories.It reminds me as a will-be parent to teach my kids sex education and to talk to them as friend first.

I just can't imagine my parents lecturing me about 'se.x education' after all d 'blue films and porn magz' under my bed......
I recormend dis movie 'LIFE ON TOP'...... And u won't need Mazi.

Update now!

Update nah,abi u wan make i vex

Our author has been very busy with a collaborative project. She will be back shortly to update the thread (work resumes tonight).

Thank you for your patience

Ishilove:
Good heavens!

So heaven been get plural all this while, i no sabi, aunty Ishie please will u be my english teacher?,

naptu2: Our author has been very busy with a collaborative project. She will be back shortly to update the thread (work resumes tonight).

Thank you for your patience

Thank you, naptu. You are far too kind

Yes indeedy. I have been very busy with another story on this section, and as I can't have two stories jostling in my head simultaneously, I had to put this story on temporary lockdown, but work resumes tonight. Thank you for your patience.

Ishilove:
Thank you, naptu. You are far too kind

Yes indeedy. I have been very busy with another story on this section, and as I can't have two stories jostling in my head simultaneously, I had to put this story on temporary lockdown, but work resumes tonight. Thank you for your patience.

Upload abeg! I kept my thread on while I worked on the collabo stuff! Its no biggie, so don't keep us waiting! Especially now that Chilo had her first #fake# or.a.s.m and is still looking forward to a real one.

Mazi_Omenuko:

Upload abeg! I kept my thread on while I worked on the collabo stuff! Its no biggie, so don't keep us waiting! Especially now that Chilo had her first #fake# or.a.s.m and is still looking forward to a real one.

And 'they' say I'm the one with a filthy mind
Anyway , Ishilove listen to him so that he would not die pls

Mazi_Omenuko:

Upload abeg! I kept my thread on while I worked on the collabo stuff! Its no biggie, so don't keep us waiting! Especially now that Chilo had her first #fake# or.a.s.m and is still looking forward to a real one.

Mazi, why did u call it fake?

avicky:
Mazi, why did u call it fake?

The only real o.r.g.a.s.m comes thru the natural way god designed for it. Anyother source of it, either thru same-sex or mast-ur-ba-tion ain't real.

It could look real, it could sound real, it could feel real, but it ain't real.

Ive got my self d seat right behind u mazi * if u do nonsense *

Mazi_Omenuko: Dear ishi,
Did you notice that the number of viewers and followers increased tremendously? This is not unrelated to the fact that your last update has sex-plicit contents!!!
S-e-x sells fast, and its real hotcake

Bring it on dear, we can't wait for Chilo to start having real or.ga.sms.
I will bring some of my fans over here. I see ITBOMB and **Emperortj93** are already here. Those guys can smell p.o.r.n from a mile.

#....gaspin 4 air...# bt i taught dat's one of ma deepest secret **#...cover ma face and run out from dis thread cus i'v bein figured out......**#

Mazi_Omenuko:

The only real o.r.g.a.s.m comes thru the natural way god designed for it. Anyother source of it, either thru same-sex or mast-ur-ba-tion ain't real.

It could look real, it could sound real, it could feel real, but it ain't real.

Mazi, if e no be panadol, e no fit be like panadol abi?

Ishi, abeg continuer!

@Ishilove abeg drop d upload make we use am enjoy dis weekend na only u remain o

In the days that followed, Chilo floated around in a kind of haze. For the first time, she was aware of her own body and its se.xuality. She would stand in front of the mirror in her birthday suit and critically assess her body, turning this way and that, and trying to mentally picture her internal organs. What mysteries did they hold? She paid particular attention to her bosoms because that was where it had all began, after all.

She stood now, in front of the dusty standing mirror in the sitting room. For some reason the mirror was never cleaned. She swept the sitting room, but she often neglected to wipe the mirror. The mirror was only cleaned when a guest was expected, or when Mother or Andrela suddenly noticed that they could barely see their reflections from behind the thick coat of dust.

She was home alone today. Everyone had gone out on their various businesses. She had the whole house to herself, which was just fine by her.

She gazed at her reflection. She had what could be called ‘a nice figure’. A small waist, hips that showed promise, average sized buttocks and a nice, fair, glowing complexion. Her eyes moved to her bosoms. She frowned as she stared at them. Though they were average sized, she considered them her most unattractive asset. They were long and droopy. When they had first begun to grow, they had been full, firm and jiggly. However, without warning, they had begun to sag, as if in obedience the laws of gravity. Now, they were pointed straight down, angle 180 degrees. Mother had once jokingly asked if she had spirit babies that came to suck the bosoms at night, hence their flaccid appearance. No matter, she thought, she had pawpaw shaped bosoms and it is an established fact that pawpaw bosoms are never perky.

She sighed. No point in dwelling on what she had no power to change. All well and good.

Chilo tentatively touched one nip.ple. This is where it had all begun. A man had touched her here, and she had experienced something magical. If mere touches could bring about such explosions, what untold joys would the main act of se.xual intercourse bring?

She touched herself again. Nothing. She continued working at it, but there was merely a spark. No fire.

She lay on the carpeted floor in front of the mirror and tried again. At last, the spark that had been earlier ignited began to bloom. Looking intently into the mirror from the floor where she lay, she worked the spark into a conflagration. Finally, when the sweet relief came, she shuddered exquisitely, every muscle in her body straining.

After several minutes, her racing heart began to settle down. She floated down from the heights she had risen to, and all was still within.

‘This can’t be right’, she thought lazily. ‘Am I supposed to be doing this? Isn’t this a sin? At this rate, I am going to become addicted to this’. She wasn’t much of a bible reader, but she felt pretty sure that what she was doing was very wrong. Too much of a good thing is bad, Mother always said. She would just have to stop.

Still tingling all over, she forced herself to get up. Her eyes moved to the mirror again. Her skin was lightly filmed with perspiration. Her eyes had a satisfied look in them. Strangely, the ‘satisfied cat’ look made her ashamed. She quickly turned away and ran, her bre.asts flapping, into the bathroom and had a long cold bath.

*** *** *** *** *** Chilo was able to avoid mastu.rbating after that day. She made a conscious effort not to touch herself, for any reason other than personal hygiene. And it worked, because she discovered that she didn’t have those maddening urges anymore.

By the time Chilo wrote her SSCE at the age of sixteen, she had put everything behind her. She had by this time become more serious with church attendance and felt that there was nothing she couldn’t put before God.
That was of course until she met ‘Big English’.

********************************************

One cool evening, she was walking down from the market where she had gone on an errand when she heard a deep voice behind her say “Excuse me”.

Chilo sighed, and pretended not to hear. She was used to being approached by boys of all ages. When she was eleven, she remembered a particular month when she counted forty boys who approached her. Each day, she would list down their names on a piece of paper and tally it with the previous numbers, which was how she knew when she hit number 40.

It became so bad that whenever she was sent on an errand, Chilo would cry and beg not to go, because it seemed that as soon as she stepped her feet outside the house, there were a dozen or more ‘toasters’ lurking in corners, waiting for her to show up. They were EVERYWHERE! On treetops {Seriously. These toasters belonged to the Fruit Plucking Group. Immediately members of this group sighted Chilo, they would abandon their enterprise, jump down and actively pursue HER. In time, she learnt to avoid certain trees, especially the mango trees}, on the several makeshift football pitches that she passed on her way to the market, in shops, at corners, by kerosene tanks, on the roadside and so many other seemingly innocuous locations. They sprang out of their hiding places and pounced with “Hello sister, excuse me, I want to talk to you.”

In fact, Mother had to march to the home of one very obstinate ‘toaster’ to urge the boy’s mother to kindly warn her son to desist from bothering her little girl. This boy belonged to the Kerosene Tank Group.

“Madam, do you know Chilo is only eleven years old?” Mother had indignantly queried.

''ELEVEN YEARS?? Goodness, she looks a lot older!’' was the shocked response from the boy’s mortified mother. The nineteen year old boy was a ne’er-do-well who sported ‘koko waves’ hairdo, and went about town feeling cool with himself and generally being a nuisance.

Back then, Chilo looked far older than eleven, more especially as her hips were developing and her bosoms jutted proudly. By this time she had started wearing a bra, so they didn’t jiggle so invitingly anymore. Overtime, she learnt ways to firmly, but politely blow the unwanted admirers off. The more persistent ones were thoroughly verbally whiplashed and sent on their way.

“Excuse me, I am talking to you.” the voice insisted. She couldn’t keep ignoring the voice, so she was forced to stop and look back, prepared to answer any idioticc question in the most acidic tones she could muster.

The fellow before her stood at an unimpressive 5ft 7inches tall. He was darkly complected, muscle bound and plain of face. He had Segun Arinze eyeballs, thick lips and wore a very debonair kampala attire. The garment positively billowed around him when he moved. He was quite a dashing fellow despite the plain face; she had to admit to herself.

“Hello, good evening,” she responded, and waited expectantly.

He flashed her the whitest set of pearlies she had ever seen, and asked “are you Andrew’s sister?”

“Why, yes, I am”, she answered, intrigued by this intriguing looking stranger who looked to be in his mid-twenties.

“I guessed as much. I saw the family resemblance and I knew you must be his sister. We are acquaintances, by the way, but I have never seen you, just Oliver and Kodi. Have you been hiding your pretty face?”

Chilo answered him with a blank stare.

He continued, relentless. “My name is Sunday. What’s yours?”

“Chilo”, she replied immediately.

“Pleased to meet you”

“Same here.”

And thus an unholy friendship was formed.

In the weeks that passed, Sunday soon became a regular caller in Chilo’s home. He was a very charming fellow and was wonderful company, entertaining all who listened to him with his endless stories. Perhaps he was a tad intimidated by his new friend’s family, seeing that they were well spoken and cultured. Hence, whenever he was with Chilo and her siblings, he resorted to unnecessary verbosity that had everyone tittering behind their fingers. He wasn’t a master of the English language, but he just had to show off, murdering the language in the process.

Father nicknamed him ‘Big English’ the day he said “The dog that refuses to listen to the whistle {he pronounced it ‘wheestool’} of the hunter will follow the king to the rebound.” They were all in the living room and Dad had been in a corner doing some ironing. Chilo had done her best not to giggle, because it would be very improper and it would embarrass their garrulous guest, but Father hadn’t been so sensitive. Everybody, Sunday inclusive, had jumped when a very boisterous guffaw had torn forth from Father’s lips. Sunday, thinking he had pleased and impressed Chilo’s father, had launched into a long winded tale about his neighbours. The entire household had dissolved into laughter, but what the young admirer had failed to understand was they had been laughing AT him and not with him.

One day, months later, Chilo, Andrew and Andrela were invited to Big English’s apartment which was loacted about two streets away from theirs. He lived in a family house, but since he was the first son, though not the most senior child, he opted to live in a room behind the main building. Andrela declined the invitation due to other obligations, but Andrew and Chilo accepted.

Venturing inside Big English’s living quarters was a very memorable experience for it was within those unhallowed walls that she first beheld por.no.graphy.

Big English’s room was tidy, small but tastefully furnished. The floor was rugged; the walls painted a nice cream colour and at the corner of the room, by the wall lay a soft mattress. Before your mind branches of in a thousand directions, dear carnal minded reader, Chilo knew the mattress was soft because she and Andrew sat on it.

They were offered refreshments which they graciously declined. After a few minutes of chitchat, Chilo began to prowl the room. She loved rifling through people’s things, not out of malice but out of curiosity. She had been warned that it was a bad habit, but she couldn’t help herself. She just had to know what lay behind that curtain, within those pile of books, underneath that bed, inside that cabinet whose closed doors screamed lustily at her “OPEN ME! QUICK, OPEN MEEEEE!!!”

She should have paid heed to Mother’s advice about searching people’s things. It would have done her a world of good.

Big English and Andrew were so deeply engrossed in their manly conversation that they did not notice when Chilo made her way to an innocuous looking pile of magazines and began leafing through the ones at the top of the pile. They were mostly sport magazines, Hints, Hearts and some Christian literature.

She picked up one Hints issue and looked at the glossy front cover. Help, I Never Knew My Husband Was A Marine Wizard!! screamed the cover story. Chilo grimaced and put the magazine away. She moved to other stories and gradually worked her way down.

At the bottom, she saw a separate stack of magazines tied together with rubber bands. She would have dismissed them as another bunch of old mags. However, what caught her attention was that they didn’t have the worn appearance of age. In fact, they looked quite new. She picked them up and the name of the magazine at the top jumped out at her.

“Better Lover”, she read out loud. Probably another Hints incarnate, she thought and set it aside. The next magazine didn’t have a cover and looked a bit like a comic book. It was written in French so she couldn’t read what was written on the first page. She casually flipped through a few pages, and suddenly found herself staring down the gaping hole of a va.gina.

Chilo inhaled sharply. For some reason she could not phantom, she found that she could not drop the magazine that her mind demanded she immediately did, neither could she tear her disconcerted gaze from the turgid phallus beside the female organ that seemed to dominate the whole lurid picture. . .

please aunty ishie come and update this story oh

Wahala dey!

brokoto: Wahala dey!

I don't feel safe with you alone in the room
BTW , Chilo is getting older , lets see who will pluck the blooming berry and claim the prize

Following you bumper to bumper wella....

ITbomb:
I don't feel save with you alone in the room
BTW ,

Lwkmd!!

Good one, indeed a very good one. Nicely penned.

but "...there was nothing she couldn't put before God..."

Larry-Sun:
Good one, indeed a very good one. Nicely penned.

but "...there was nothing she couldn't put before God..."

There was no issue she couldn't put before her God.

Anything wrong with that line? Please let me know