Awww fine boy no pimple

He came all d way from d airport himself?
Osanobua, chineke, olorun.....

Very nice.

Chief Benson carefully opened the paper presented before him.
"Sir, that is some brilliant piece of art right there." The man spoke, appreciatively."Your son is an excellent artist. And when he brought this to me to get my opinion, I just had to have a copy so I could invest in it and make him the most renowned artist there is." He noticed Chief Benson's distraction by the painting and cleared his throat. "That's why I came seeking your opinion. He is your son, after all. What way do you think we can we establish him and make him grand?"
Chief Benson stared at Mr. Akindele, murder apparent in his eyes.

"I'll take it from here, Mr. Akindele" The younger man thrust his hands in his pocket, confused.
"I don't understand, Sir. I want to invest in his raw talent..."
"He is my son, just like you said. I know better on things like this."
"But Sir... I would like him to do paintings for my company as well. He is a brilliant ar.."
"There's no problem with that, rest assured." Mr. Akindele sighed, disgruntled. He had only brought the painting here to look for dual partnership and more interest, not to have such tale t snatched out of his hands like that.
Chief Benson saw his dissatisfaction and assured him of his son's willingness to draw for him, whenever the need arose. He dismissed him hastily and began making various calls.

"Ringo... Yes? Listen to me, you know Vosa.? The girl I used to hang around... Yes... Yes, you foool!... I'll send you her address. Yes.. You know what to do. I want you to do a clean job. And Ringo, keep my son out of this."
He dropped the phone.

"So you want to play with fire, Vosa? Let's see who has the last laugh"

I hope vosa 's story won't end just like dat oooo nice one @mznelly

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmn

Hehe... Following b2b

That was short

"Ms. Biebi" The receptionist called out and Biebi stepped into the Therapist's office, nervous. She was scared,shïtless. Here she was, laying her life bare before a common stranger. She didn't want to, but she couldn't deal with it all alone, she needed help I professional help.
A smiling face welcomed her into the office and she sat at the edge of the recliner. She noticed how extremely beautiful she was. She was dark, wore glasses, and had her natural hair in a bun. Her makeup was at minimum, and she immediately picked up a notepad and a pen and sat,facing Biebi.
"Hello, Ms. Biebi. I'm Sandra" She grinned and extended her hand for a shake. Biebi shook it, managing to smile.
"Relax" Sandra said, encouragingly.
"I am relaxed" Biebi patted her jeans, nervously.
"You're not"
"I am" Biebi insisted and wiggled in her seat. "See? Relaxed" Sandra chuckled.
"Please, Biebi- Sit like you would sit if you were at home" Biebi sighed and lay down fully on the recliner. She noticed it was even more comfortable.
" Now, you are relaxed" Sandra stated, emphatically. She jotted down some things in her notepad briefly and looked up at Biebi again.

"So what brings you here, Biebi?"
"I'm...traumatized" Biebi explained. "I was a prostitute, due to circumstances beyond my control. I can't get the anxiety out of my head. I'm worried. I'm..." Biebi shut her eyes tightly, willing the graphic memories to disappear but it seemed near impossible. "I think about my past every night. I want to move on. I'm getting married soon, and I don't think I would be able to satisfy my husband sexually. I hate sex. It's the dirtiest thing in the world to me, right now-" A tear slid its way down her cheek. Sandra handed her a tissue and she took it, mouthing thanks.

"Thank you for sharing. Remember this is therapy, and we don't have to talk about anything you're not comfortable with." Biebi nodded, grateful she didn't see any trace of disgust in her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to be judged.
"What is the problem from your viewpoint?" Biebi sighed and reflected.
"I can't move on. I can't forget it. And I'm not sure... I'll like sex that much"
"How does this problem make you feel?"
"I feel mad, sad... Hopeless, stuck, frustrated-" Biebi dabbed at her eyes with the tissue again.
Sandra noted down some things in her notepad and returned her attention to Biebi again.

"What makes the problem better?" Sandra asked her. Biebi paused for a second, then smiled.
"Him. Doye. The guy I'm in love with. He's everything, he's my life. He makes me feel happy. I love him so much, you know" Sandra smiled.
"What worsens the problem?"Biebi sighed.
"When I'm alone, I think about it. And when I think about marrying him, I wonder how I'll be able to satisfy him."
"Biebi, how would you like to improve your life to be more satisfied and happy?"
"Well...I just wish I could forget everything... I wish I could be sure where I stand with Doye"
"Everyone who comes here expects something different. I believe you are paying me to help you achieve your positive goals as quickly as possible. Some people like to receive homework, some clients like to vent and have me listen, and others want a high level of interaction. What do you expect from this counselling process?"
"I just need to pour out my heart to someone professionally inclined in this area... And a little bit of advice too." Sandra closed her notepad and smiled at her.
"Biebi, you said you feel you need to forget everything. That's not what I think, however. I feel you need to forgive yourself. You need too understand the reasons why you did those things, as beyond your control. You need to let go of your hurt.
Your relationship with your fiance and the pain you feel are intertwined. I understand your worries. Sex, is after all an important aspect of every relationship. Can I suggest something?"
"Sure"
"You certainly should confirm whether or not your fears are real regarding the intimate aspect of your relationship"

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

Biebi stood outside the clinic to stop a cab. She sighed. The therapist was right, she had to forgive herself. It was difficult, but she had to learn to love herself all over again. And now she was suggesting she had sex with Doye.
She sighed again. What if he thought her too forward? What if he doesn't want that?
But if she put it off till they get married, she may find out she's frigid and bore him or make him turn to another woman for satisfaction.

She called Vosa, but her phone kept on ringing.
"Probably busy with Richard", she concluded as she stepped into the cab she had flagged down.

Nice one. I jst hope nothin hz happend 2 vosa since her fone kpt ringing.

Nice one. I jst hope nothin hz happend 2 vosa since her fone kpt ringing.

Well done MzNelly...... Kudos to you. Keep up the good work. The sky is not ur limit but above....

Enjoying this..... Sex scene soonest.... Leqqo

Am a newbie here. Nice one you got going here Mznelly. Stumbled upon the thread this afternoon and I'm glad I caught up. Waiting for more updates

Monica hooked her bra and put on her sleazy top. She got of the table and took up her purse. It had been a while she had sex, and while it wasn't the best humping session of the century, it would pass. She cleared her throat and eyed the older man, who was still busy putting on his clothing.
"Doctor Adams? I've fulfilled my end of the deal... It's your turn now" He pulled up his zipper and handed her the forged DNA test.
"In there says, Mr. Abidoye is the father of your son-" She snatched the envelope and hid it in her purse.
"It was nice doing business with you" She stated curtly and attempted to leave.
"Er... Ms. Monica?"
"Yes?"
"We can meet up some other time, right?" Doctor Adams leered at her, thinking about how long he'd had this mind blowing sex, compared to the boring one his wife presented him at home.
"No.I never met you, we never had this conversation. Good day."

Monica stepped into Doye's apartment, whistling happily to herself. It was over, that marriage with whatever-her-name-was was completely over.
"Doye!" She grinned happily at him as she saw him at the bar counter, pouring himself a glass of wine. He simply stared at her, refraining from advancing closer. He took a sip of the wine and smacked his lips.
"I still don't get why you insisted on going to the Doctor alone, Monica"
"Oh.. No. Not at all, Doye. I just felt one of us should stay back and keep a watch on Trevòr. Speaking of,where is Trevòr?" She looked around as she spoke. "I have the results handy. It says here you're his father." She watched him. "You don't believe me? Here, have a look"
"I don't want to" He dropped his wine glass and took a step towards her.
"Okay... But where is Trevòr? I want him to be with his Father at all times."
"Trevòr is on his way back to Cameroon, to be with his grandmother" Her purse slipped off her hands the minute he said this.

"What? I..don't understand."
"She called, complained, said she missed him and didn't care if you were going to send any stipend or not; she just wanted to be with her grandson. She assumed I was you. She didn't even let me speak...initially. She told me under the assumption that it was Monica listening, that Alfred, the "boy's father was badly missing him." I then assured her that I would send back her grandson and regularly send her monthly stipends." He smiled grimly as he completed his story. She looked pale, like she had just seen a ghost.
"Doye..."
"If you have any remaining shred of dignity in you, just go upstairs, pack your things and leave my house."
"Doye, please- let me explain"
"Monica, I've tolerated your nonsense for longer than necessary. Do not push me. Please, leave my house."
She got on her knees and began crying.
"But Doye, I love you. I really do."
"No, you don't. Cos last I checked, love isn't selfish. And all you think and care about is your damned self. You're nuts and I must've been a big fōöl to have ever loved someone like you."
"Doye-"
"Just. Leave. The woman of my dreams will be here in the next 15 minutes and I have to get ready for her."

Thankz MzNelly

Serves her right!

Nice 1 MzNelly ;DNice 1 MzNelly

That was lovely.Good riddance to bad rubbish, pack your kaya and leave!..keep it coming Ma'am.

lovely.
how come this nice piece isn't on front page
cc: lalasticlala

Nelly i go change am for u o, come and continue joor

Vosa sat at the dining table, distraught. She eyed her phone and switched it off, refusing to answer Biebi's persistent calls. She loved her friend, but she was going through so much already as it was. Biebi was getting married.
And no, she wasn't jealous. She honestly wished her well from a pure heart, but...
She poured herself another drink. Didn't she deserve a man who loved her as well?
Someone who spoiled her the way Biebi did?
She honestly didn't get it. After all, they were both prostitutês?

Or was she not worthy of love? Why did Richard not feel anything when he stared at her? Why didn't he want and desire her like the woman she clearly was? A tear slipped down her cheek.
She had no reason to keep on living.
"Vosa?" Richard stared at her, hurt to see her cry. She cleaned her tears and downed the bottle before her.
"Vosa, what's wrong? You've been in a foul mood all day."
She ignored him and took up the bottle to fill her cup again. He snatched the bottle from her grasp.

"I asked you a question, Vosa!"
"Let me drink to death, Richard! Just leave me alone! Let me drink to death, you brat!" He put down the bottle.
"You honestly should drink more if it makes you speak fluent English"
"You fool!" She spat angrily. "What'd you take me for-an illiterate?! I can speak fluent English than ten Professors combined! You wanna know why I'm bent on Nigerian Pidgin? Because its it's my trademark; because what else does a prōstitute know? What? Why are you staring at me like that? You know it is who I am. That's probably why you don't want nothing to do with me-"
Richard was stunned. He had imagined himself with her one time or the other, but he honestly didn't think she was interested in him. She was always playing hard to get? And what did she mean she was English literate? This girl surprised him by the minute.
"Vosa-" He reached out to calm her down.
"Don't touch me!" She poured the contents of the cup on his white neatly ironed shirt.
The thunderous knocking on the door prevented him from reacting. The minute he opened, he was pushed out of the way and three armed, masked men entered and made their way towards Vosa.

The first man lifted her to his shoulders without further wasting of time and made to leave. Vosa screamed with all her might and Richard came to her aid, but before he could do anything, the third man had used the butt of his gun to hit him on the head and he fell to the floor, unconscious.
They made away with Vosa, still screaming and calling out Richard's name.

Feed me more abeg.

Omg!

More!!!!

"Here you go" She handed him a glass of wine. Doye smiled at her and drank it up, patting the empty space beside him.
"Biebi, I already told you I had at least half a bottle before you got here." She ignored his gesture and filled his wine glass again. He chuckled, amused.
"Biebi? Are you trying yo get me drunk?" She shook her head and handed him the wine glass again.
"Common, sit." She sat down, reluctantly. Of course, she wanted him drunk. She wanted a him wasted and passed out so she could just do whatever she wanted and see if she liked it without freaking him out.
"Why? Do you want to rapê me?" He asked, like he was reading her thoughts. She smiled.
"Oh, is that what it's called?"
"Come here" He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him. She smiled, contented. Why couldn't they have this with no sex in the way? She know she wasn't ready for that.

"Biebi, what's bothering you?"
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not. Don't lie to me" She sighed.
"Well...I'm just really happy Monica's nowhere around you. And I'm happy about how well you're taking care of her son. You're a good man, Doye"
"I know" He said, cockily. She hit him playfully on the chest.
"So, when are you seeing my parents?" She breathed heavily.
"Doye, I'm scared they might not like me"
"Oh please... What's not to like about you? You're beautiful, sensual, intelligent, big butt, funny, interesting..." Biebi laughed, amused.
"Shut up"
"My parents will love you, Biebi, for real. Trust me."
"Thank you." She smiled appreciatively at him. "And there's someone else I want you to meet too. Her name is Vosa., she's my bestest friend in the whole wide world"
"Can't wait." He stared at her top. "By the way, I really like the way you dressed up to see me today" She bat her eyelids at him. So finally, he was noticing.

"Really?" She purred. He nodded, pleased. His chest was pressed against hers, holding her steady. He pushed his hands through her hair, holding her face and brought it up to his, pressing his warm lips to hers. His kiss was strong and wet and Biebi felt it through her entire body. She pulled away for a moment and she saw surprise written on his face.

He stood, with his lips slightly parted as if about to speak, but no words were needed – she moved in and ran her tongue softly over his bottom lip, at the same time running her hands along his solid body. He reached around and pulled her hard against him and took over her mouth with his, caressing her hair gently.

"Mmmm…Doye", She breathed. "I want you to make love to me"
His eyes almost popped out of his sockets as he stared at her, but he wasted no time in lifting her up and getting her to his bedroom.He slid his fingers under the straps of her top and
slipped them off her shoulders, following the straps down her arm with soft little kisses. As the tiny little straps slid off, past her hand, he brought her fingers to his mouth, sucking on them one by one. Biebi's body trembled as he lowered the camisole, revealing her brėasts – nïpples
swollen, ready to be touched.
He paused for a moment and just stared in awe; taking in the beauty that she was offering.

"Biebi, you're so beautiful..." he said breathlessly as he devoured her brėasts with his mouth, his tongue moving quickly over one nipple and then to the other. He continued to suckle her while Biebi held on to him for balance, trying to remember the number of times she'd lay like this on her back for money. It was supposed to be different, it was supposed to feel different.
But she didn't feel any differently. All she could think about was that fateful night when he kept pounding her she was nothing more than a prostitute and that was was what she felt like-like a cheap prostitutê.

"Doye, please stop. I have to go. I don't think I can nor will I ever have sex with you.." Tears flooded her eyes as she spoke.
"I need to leave now...please..."

.

Nice masterpiece. I don't want vosa to die. That's remind me the title of d story got me thinking shattered glass. I guess monica's glass has been shattered who else again?

Following B2B
Thnks fr d update MzNelly.

tijehi:
He came all d way from d airport himself?
Osanobua, chineke, olorun.....