The below story was written by a sister and a Nigerian, Chioma Ngaikedi on a facebook group and has been generating mixed reactions. Read up guys and lets have your thoughts...

STRICTLY 18+

GAMES WE PLAY

Nobody tells you about sex in an African home. Not your mother, not your father, not even your priest.

In Africa, they show you!

I was 9 when my cousin, Nkenna showed me. He waited till my mother left for market, then he sent my brothers, six streets away to buy Iruka bread.

He then led me into his room at the boy's quarters. The old ceiling fan was rotating. The black and white television was announcing the annulment of the 1993 election. I jumped into the worn out couch opposite the TV.

"Brother Nkenna, I don't like this one, ti yere m film. Jackie Chan film" I said, smiling as I waited. I knew he would do it. He always says I was his favorite of all my siblings.

"I will put the film for you later. I promise. Now, do you care for mangoes? " he asked opening a sack bag and revealing three big, soft, green mangoes.

"Yes! Yes!" I yelled, jumping up and down. He handed me the biggest. Joy shone in my eyes. I began to peel the mango like it was going to vanish.

"Easy, nne nne, they are all for you. "

"Me alone?" I asked, my eyes popped from their sockets. I began to devour the fruit. The yellow juice dripped down the corners of my mouth. I didn't see Nkenna stand and walk to the door to bolt it.I didn't notice when he removed his belt and unzipped his trousers. I didn't notice when he took my left hand and pressed down his swollen shaft.

I was jolted back to reality. The Mango slipped out my hand and landed on my feet. The yellow juice splattered across the torn carpet.

"Bro Nkee! " I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Metu ya aka, Touch it" He whispered. His hand held mine in place, stroking the length of his manhood. His eyes closed. Soft moans sipped out of his mouth.

This is definitely wrong I could feel it but my curiosity diffused my fear. He felt warm, like the roasted corn father brings back from work. He was big too, very big - bigger than my little brother's own.

I touched it again and again. Stroking, rubbing.

"Ohhhhhhh, " He moaned. In one sweep, he carried me to the chair, balancing me across his laps. He whispered into my ears.

"Touch me again,".

I hesitated. My heart pounded in my ears. Mummy says God see everyone. What if He is watching now? What if He tells mummy?

"No. " I murmured,shaking my head, scrambling to get of his lap.

" Nne, stop. Biko. Tomorrow, I'll pluck more mangos for you" He pleaded.

"How many? " I asked. Greed glowed in my eyes.

“10!"

10? My mind began to dance. Smile broke out on my face. I reached out and touched him- stroking, caressing. Up and down.

His moan rose above the television sound and the creaking ceiling fan. His hot breath fanned my neck.

His fingers crawled up my thighs to my waist. He reached for my pant and yanked it off. In two quick strides, he carried me to the dirty brown mattress lying on the floor. Bending over me,his swollen shaft poised between the apex of my legs. Two drops of hot fluid dropped on my left thigh.

He whispered.

"Nnenne, I want to teach you a new game."

With love,
Chioma Ngaikedi.