Welcome, Guest: Register On Nairaland / LOGIN! / Trending / Recent / New
Stats: 3,011,289 members, 7,360,680 topics. Date: Thursday, 23 March 2023 at 06:23 PM
Nairaland Forum / Entertainment / Literature / Living With My Grandma (18+) (28019 Views)
Living With The Devil - Feather's Stories / Grandma's Visit / Pls I Need Answers To Questions On "Tales From Grandma" By Dele Falodun (2) (3) (4)
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (Reply) (Go Down)
|Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 7:58pm On Apr 11, 2022|
Living With My Grandma
Fair warning: the story you're about to read contains some explicit contents. This is to as many who frown at stories with such contents. Unapologetically, I did it to bring sparkles and spices up the story. I hope you enjoy reading this—because I really enjoyed writing it. Happy reading.
Some years ago, I lived with my grandmother; a diabetes patient. It was just the two of us living together. She was allergic to salty food. Even though salt doesn't affect blood glucose levels, too much salt could raise her blood pressure.
So, I’d always prepare our meal together but whenever I wanted to dish mine, I’d add uncooked salt to my own portion. I always did that when the food was still hot. It was particularly the major thing I detested then living with her. She didn’t choose to be diabetic, so I had to manage and adapt.
Grandma was in her late seventies. She was ageing with gray hairs. There were least of things she could do at her age but she never liked to miss being at the church premises. A devout catholic mother. Well, let me not bore you more about grandma, as you go on to read the rest of my story, you’ll surely find out whom she was and what she’s made of.
My name is Victoria, but my grandma preferred calling me by my Igbo name, Ziora. But friends and acquaintances called me Zee, my siblings inclusive. I’m what you might describe as a chubby girl. Though some folks felt I’m fat but I hate to admit that I’m fat. Literally, I’m not. I’m pretty satisfied with what I see every time I stand before the mirror.
My parents and siblings lived in Abuja while I was staying with Grandma in the village—somewhere in Anambra State. In the family of six, I was the only one who accepted to assist grandma while schooling in the village. And that really transformed me to a pauper village girl. None of my siblings accepted to stay with her due to numerous reasons, health issues inclusive. I had empathy for grandma—and that made me more closer to her. There was this bond between us.
The good thing about living with my grandma was I had everything I ever needed. She had six sons, my father inclusive—and all were doing very well. Two were outside the country while the remaining four lived in Lagos and Abuja. My uncles were used to sending money weekly and monthly, depending on needs. Truth is, I could bill the five of them today and get credit alerts the next day. They cherished me just like I cherished living with their mother. I had enough clothes, shoes, wrist watches and other luxuries, but those stuffs didn’t really made me happy enough. I still missed my family—my siblings were such a vibe that living together with them was nothing to compare with.
Grandma and I lived in his first son’s storey building. Sometimes, it was terrifying living in that big mansion. The serenity and calmness was too dangerous for my likeness. We lived in a two bedroom flat downstairs but once in a blue moon, I do clean up the flats upstairs and the remaining flats downstairs. I had always dreaded going into those rooms all alone. Even though we had a standby generator and Dstv, it wasn’t really enough to kill boredom. Besides, I was bad at operating the oversized sumec generator.
Living with my grandma changed me in a way; I became used to running errands here and there, visiting places I never knew. Normally, my family visited villa only during festive periods, so I barely knew places until I started living with grandma.
Then I had a boyfriend, Emeka. But I called him Meska. My day one nigga. Instead of the normal Zee I was known for, he preferred calling me Ziggy. Even though it sounded masculine, I loved it. He was the very first person I fell in love with. Though I was young and naïve. I was just eighteen and had written Waec the previous year.
Emeka was cute and alluring. And that was what really attracted me to him. His lips, curly hairs and of all, his command of English language was top notch. His presence was so so electrifying. And don’t think I asked him out because of the way I described him. No, I couldn’t just do the approaching. I felt it was normal for guys to do it and not the other way round. He was actually the one who did the ‘chyking' and wooing. After initial ‘gragra' I accepted to be Meska's lover and the rest they say was history.
Meska was an undergraduate at Unizik. He was studying Fine and Applied Art. He was a badass artist. His drawings and artworks looked great just like him. He had good numbers of followers on Instagram who followed him because of his amazing works and crafts. The prospect of being in a relationship with him grew by the day. There were days we talked about the number of kids we would have when finally we get married, and other days we quarreled and fought. But at the end of the day, we’d always make up and move on. I was really crazy about him. His hairstyle then was ‘Gallas'. You’d never see Meska on any other hairstyle aside ‘Gallas'.
My best moments were the days he came for holidays or weekends. He would always drive me around the village with his father’s motorcycle. Oftentimes, we went swimming at the river till red eyes. Thinking about these lovely memories with Meska kinda makes me feel nostalgic.
Meska and I were dating but grandma never knew about our relationship. The least thing she expected from me was seeing me around boys. She had cautioned me severally to keep off from them—and I knew her fear was premarital sex that could lead to pregnancy. Grandma said something I’d never forget and it goes: “Don’t get deceived by their sugarcoated mouth. They don’t love you. They only want to sleep with you and move to the next person.” Till today, I still haven’t forgotten that.
Despite her warnings and cautions, I still didn’t adhere. I was blinded by youthful exuberance. Meska was the source of my happiness those days. He was simply my joy giver. Waking up every day and realizing I had someone as him in my life was a big flex. It lessened my boredom and made me feel excited by the day.
I did everything possible to hide him away from grandma. Anytime Meska was in our house, bear it in mind that grandma had gone a far distance journey or perhaps at the market. I was that careful that she never suspected any silly movement.
Another silly act I did was giving out our foodstuffs to Meska whenever he was returning to school. We actually had more than enough and there was no way grandma would suspect any missing foodstuffs. How would she even gonna find out? Not to exaggerate, her monthly money for upkeep always totaled in six figures. And funnily enough, I gave Meska from that money. Isn’t that crazy? Garri, rice, beans, tinned milk and tea, onions, red oil and other provisions were what Meska always got from me each time his holidays were over. He was really grateful for everything I did.
His parents weren’t that rich. I could do anything for my Meska. I was so in love. I was mad over him in Runtown's voice—and that was when that hit song was trending. I eventually used it as my ringtone. Now, I don’t even know if Runtown is still singing, shey baba don retire ni?
There came a time when Meska was done with his second semester exams (200l). He visited home a week after the end of his exams. And that was the month of August; August meeting had started. It was on the second day of the meeting, Mama had gone out dressed on her CWO attire; white and customized blue wrapper. The moment she left, I quickly called Meska on phone. I hadn’t seen him in a long time and there I was, impatiently waiting for his arrival. I couldn’t wait to behold his face.
He promised to come in the next thirty minutes but after an hour, Meska didn’t show up. I got tired of hearing him say things like: “I’ll be there soon.” I dropped my phone angrily. Not long after I called him last, he finally showed up. My joy knew no bound. Even when I was clearly sad. He came in through the big black painted gate.
He was all smile seeing my angry look. His smile was infectious and that got me smiling sheepishly. I rushed him with a hug, almost throwing him off balance but Meska didn’t allow us fall. He apologized for being late. His mother had kept him doing one thing or the other; he narrated.
“It’s fine. How’s school? Your girlfriends are really treating you well.” I teased him. He went into momentarily laughter. After which he said there was no such person he loved the way he loved me. And that really got me emotional. I hugged him again and this time we held each other’s arms for some seconds. He was taller. So, he kissed my forehead. “I have missed you so much.” He whispered softly into my left ear. “Meska, I missed you more.”
We went inside—straight to my already arranged room. It was covered with darkness, I drew the curtain and light from the beaming sun came through the Louvres. There was no light, I asked him to turn on the generator. Luckily, there was enough petrol in it.
The blue bulb gave a dim light. The ceiling was in motion up there and that gave the room enough ventilation. He reached for my bed and sat there while pressing his phone.
The bed which was neatly against two walls—one of which was painted yellow and smattered with posters. A pillow neatly propped against it. I didn’t even get to offer him anything before joining him on the bed. I had missed my nigga so much. He smelled so nice on his vintage shirt.
"So, you won’t offer me anything?” He teased in Igbo. We laughed.
"Food is surplus in the house. I want to eat you first then we’d both eat whatever you want.” My silly response.
He threw a pillow at my face. I found the second pillow, threw it at him. I stood up hastily, while he ran after me. Before I could get to the door, he grabbed me from the back, I turned with a smiling face. Our eyes got locked in contact—starring at each other affectionately. And that lead to crashing of lips. He grabbed my protruded ass while kissing my lips. He made way towards the direction of the bed; he pushed me down when he reached the high bed. And just like two dogs on heat period, we began rolling on the sheet. He pulled my top and my bum short, leaving me with my undies and bare breast. I unbuttoned his vintage shirt while he pulled his trouser.
I couldn’t get enough of him. I was tired and sore but I didn’t care. I wanted him in me. His weight on top of me. I wanted to squeeze him in further and further. I wanted to watch his face. I wanted his sweat to drop on top of me. I wanted to drop mine on him. I got on top of him. I’d never done it before. I couldn’t believe it; I was inventing something. I held him and put him in. He felt deeper in me. I'll never forget it. I was totally in charge and he liked it. I held his hands down. He pretended he want to break free.
Then I let my tits touch his face. He did something, I copied him. I did something. He copied it back, forced more of him into me.
Twenty minutes on, we heard a car honk at the gate. I jumped up. I popped out my head through the window, cold shivers ran through my spine when I behold who alighted from the Mercedes Benz.
To be Continued...
©️ Frank The Writer
Follow my Facebook page: Frank The Writer
To be among the first to read the continuation.
Please, go follow my page. �♥️♥️
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by Nobody: 8:32pm On Apr 11, 2022|
Nice one op.
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 11:59pm On Apr 11, 2022|
Thank you for engaging
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by Nobody: 2:31pm On Apr 12, 2022|
I love this!
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 5:05pm On Apr 12, 2022|
I'm glad you did.
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 7:50am On Apr 14, 2022|
Episode 2 coming up soon.
Who is ready?
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 9:49pm On Apr 14, 2022|
Living With My Grandma (18+)
When I jumped off the bed, I tied my white towel and quickly ran outside to switch off the generator. “Who’s that?” Meska asked when I came in breathing heavily. “Meska, my uncle’s back. I’m finished.” I was sweating profusely. I watched him wear his clothes hastily. He still had erection tho.
"What do I do now?” He peeped through the window. “Meska I don’t know oo. Like I never knew he would be coming back today.” I hurriedly wore my bum short and red top. I stared unblinking through the window, I noticed my uncle wasn’t the only person that alighted from the car. My efforts to recognize the other person was futile. He didn’t seem familiar. Probably, one of his friends, I assumed. He stood still outside the gate. I saw my uncle bringing out some stuffs from behind his car; the booth was wide open.
“See what will happen, I’m going out there. I’m going to lock you inside here…”
“Ahhhh….!” He interrupted.
“What? Did I know he was on his way?”
He didn’t say anything. He just stared at me. All I could see in his eyes were nothing but fear.
“You’ll stay here while I padlock the door from outside. And if you overheard me unlocking it, please go inside the toilet and hide, unless I call your name.” I paused.
He didn’t say anything, instead he turned and saw the small toilet which had a curtain in front of it. He heaved a big sigh of relief but still sighed slowly. I never knew my guy could be this cold. I never saw him that way before.
He seemed so bothered and uncomfortable with the whole thing. And I knew exactly what was going on in his mind: “What if this…? What if that...?” I looked down his trouser, there was nothing standing again. Everything had gone back to normal. Yeah, I believe you understand what I meant? Yes, you should.
“Why does it seem like you’re not really bothered?” He broke the short silence.
“Meska don’t say that. I am so bothered. I’m bothered not about myself but about you.”
“Bothered about me? How?”
“If everything being equal, my uncle won’t have any reason to enter my room. I’m just concerned about how you’ll comport yourself here and avoid being noticed.”
“See, they are coming inside already.” Meska alerted me.
“Please, stay safe. No noise. No sound.” I rubbed my two hands.
We stared at each other for some seconds before I left the room and locked the door. I was at the corridor that leads to the entrance door, there I formed a dull face like I had been sleeping and didn’t notice when he halted at the gate. I waited for them to walk closer to the house before opening the door. I monitored through the corridor. They had walked half way when I opened the door, “Wow! Uncle is back.” I walked hastily towards him.
“Welcome uncle.” I hugged him firmly. “Good afternoon.” I turned to his supposed friend.
“How are you?” He asked.
“Mama nko?” asked my uncle.
“Mama went for meeting.”
“Oh! August meeting?”
I helped him with the small bag in his right hand.
“Mehn, your brother did wonders here.” The supposed friend said, admiring the house before him.
“Na God.” Replied my uncle speedily.
Did I even tell you which of my uncle that came back? Please forgive me. His name is Clinton. The youngest among them all. He stays in Ikeja, Lagos State. Clinton wasn’t married and he wasn’t even the only unmarried uncle I had. He was a fulltime businessman.
The moment we got inside, my heart began to pound. But I did everything possible not to panic. I surely didn’t want him to suspect anything. I summoned courage and that averted fears from me.
“Zee, when last did you people had light?” my uncle sat on one of the sofa in the living room.
“Um, two days ago.” I answered.
“Hmmm, nawa oo,” he simply said.
“Is there petrol in the generator?” he asked.
“No.” I lied. I didn’t want him to go near the generator.
He might possibly find out it had been powdered recently and he might asked how I was unable to do it. When he stood up, my skin almost left my body. I thought he wanted to check out the generator himself but instead he walked straight to the fridge.
"Chidi, the drinks here are not cold.” He alerted his friend who had been busy with his phone. “No need. When we go out, we get a cold one.” Replied the young looking man. He looked younger than my uncle. He should probably be in his late twenties.
Oh! Thank God they will soon leave this place, I said to myself. I was excited deep down.
“You know if it had been public bus, we might still be on the road by now,” my uncle said.
“Yeah. True, private care is underrated.” Chidi replied shortly.
You people should have used public transport. At least by the time you return, Emeka and I would have been through. I didn’t say this to their hearing. Instead I said: “Welcome uncle. Thank God for journey mercy.” I finally joined them on the sofa. I sat closer to my uncle.
“Ziora of yesterday. See how big you have grown.” My uncle teased. I smiled sheepishly.
“How’s school?” he added.
“School? I’m done with secondary school. I will be writing Jamb next year.”
“Hmm… you don’t mean it.”
Then came a loud sound from my room like something that fell off from top. “What’s that?” He turned to me. “All these rats in this house.” I hissed.
My uncle left the Sitting room and climbed the staircase. His room was upstairs and the house was built in a way that the staircases was built inside. When he entered his room, I rushed to my room and hastily unlocked the door.
“Meska,” I whispered. He dashed out from his hideout; the toilet.
"What was that? Hope you will not implicate us?” I looked worried.
“My hand mistakenly hit that stuff and it fell off.” He pointed at my bag which had been on the wall. “Please, don’t make any further noise. I beg you.” He simply nodded head like agama lizard while smiling sheepishly. I smiled back but that was all. I locked the door again and left.
At the Sitting room, I sat there, impatiently waiting for my uncle and his friend to go out like they said. Just then, Nepa restored light. Damn! My uncle climbed down excitedly. He wore a sleeveless and short. “Zee, we brought light,” he jokingly said, not noticing I wasn’t even excited about it. I had to fake a smile. “Yes, you guys brought light,” my short response.
He reached for the Television and turned it on. The next thing he turned on was the house theater. My uncle was a big a fan of highlife music. Late Chief Emeka Morroco Mmaduka's song blared through the four speakers. He was moving his body rhythmically to the beat. His friend too vibed to the music. My uncle walked to the fridge to check if it was on and he soon realized they would finally have something cold to drink. I was disturbed. They’re likely not going out anytime soon, I pondered.
Minutes later, my uncle asked me to prepare noodles for himself and his friend so they could eat before l going out. I obliged and went straight into the kitchen. I turned on the gas and started boiling water on a smaller pot. It was a quick one. It wasn’t put to twenty minutes before the aroma filled the house. I dashed out of the kitchen sweating. I served theirs at the dinning table, with a bottle water each.
While my uncle and his friend ate at the dinning table, I took the remaining portion inside my room. I doubted if my guy had eaten since morning with the manner we both devoured the noodles and egg. The loud music from the Sitting room was an advantage to us, we talked and laughed inaudibly. We sat on the bed devouring the food. Meska asked why my uncle came back. “Not until his mother returns. He won’t tell me anything.” I answered.
At different intervals, I’d peep through the door knob to see if my uncle and his friend were done eating but the duo seemed so attached to their phone while letting the food get cold a bit
Meska sat on my bed while I laid on the bed, using his thighs as pillow to rest my head. We were talking about how suddenly I turned him into a prisoner in my room. His voice became so soft and inviting at the same time.
The way and manner Meska stared lustfully at me, I knew he wanted to have me to himself. I looked so alluring on my blue Jean bum short and braless crop top which revealed the shape of my big boobs. The bum short revealed my airy laps while the short top revealed my navel. The way l laid on his thigh, he had more view of my braless top and my chubby laps.
“So, how’s the food?” I broke the short silence. “Honestly, you might need to open a canteen,” he smiled.
“Hmmm. Is that what you want me to do in this life?” I asked.
“Fool. I was indirectly saying your food is nice.” Meska teased in Igbo. We laughed with our hands in our mouth, fully aware of my uncle’s presence. The loud music was still on but this time it was Afrobeat that blared through the speakers; a mix tape.
“What’s the time?” Meska asked. He then stood up from the bed in search of his wrist watch. “I guess it should be around 3PM now. I finally sat on the bed.
"No. It’s 3:PM,” he replied when he picked his wrist watch under the bed. “I think they’ll soon leave.” Meska peeped through the door to confirm what I had said.
From behind, Meska kissed my neck but I felt reluctant. I didn’t want us to start again. My uncle was still around. So, I didn’t respond to his soft kiss. He noticed I was unmoved by his action. He bent down and repeated his action again. Then gently massaged my back with his right palm. He then crossed his left hand down to my navel region, making a circle round it with his forefinger. His hands went further to caress my exposed thighs. I still sat on the bed trying hard to hold myself so we don’t get to put ourselves into trouble.
Meska left me for some seconds, he returned hastily when he confirmed the door was locked. At that point I knew he was also being careful like myself. He returned to grab my boobs from behind and that really got me in the mood. I didn’t have enough will to resist him.
My whole being was vibrating, my tits were hard. I turned with a speed of light. His lips was the next thing I grabbed. My eyes were closed.
We started kissing passionately while my hands were all over his shoulder. I was already groaning but I held myself from making loud moan. The kissing became so intense, I could feel his shaft struggling between his trouser. He then pushed me gently on the bed while I laid on my back.
He unplugged his mouth, kissed my navel and caressed it. His hands reached my boobs, he fumbled them aggressively, letting out a moan. Meska drew my crop top up revealing my bare breast.
Just when he was about having my left tits in his mouth, Nepa took light. Damn! We stopped abruptly. And that brought our mind back. The music stopped. The house became so quiet except for footsteps that threaded towards my room. We remained unmoved.
Guess what? We heard a knock on the door. Meska turned and looked at me
Omoooo… Yawa don gas.
To be continued
©️ Frank The Writer
Please, support me by following my Facebook page: Frank The Writer.
If you're following, drop a comment.
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 12:24am On Apr 17, 2022|
Episode 3 is cooking.
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 12:25am On Apr 17, 2022|
Go follow my Facebook page for more content.
Search for Frank The Writer.
Please, follow the page.
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by Nobody: 8:16am On Apr 17, 2022|
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 6:00pm On Apr 17, 2022|
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 5:13pm On Apr 18, 2022|
If you're following my story, please kindly follow my Facebook page: Frank The Writer.
God bless you.
Episode 3 coming your way soon.
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by Ann2012(f): 5:26am On Apr 19, 2022|
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 7:24pm On Apr 19, 2022|
As usual, this episode contains explicit content—and it’s PG rating. �
He carried me to the bed. We laid across it diagonally and he quickly began to draw the towel apart with care—to remove it as if it was a bandage. He eventually did, revealing my flesh, still smelling a little of soap. His hands floated onto me. [An Excerpt]
“I thought you said your uncle won’t have any reason to enter your room,” he whispered, frightened.
“Ssshhhh,” I admonished him.
The knock came the second time. “Go inside naa,” I gestured at him without speaking aloud.
He stood and tiptoed to the toilet with his clothes in his hands. “Yes. I’m coming. I’m in the toilet.” I lied. I need to take some time to arrange the room before opening the door. I then reached for my white towel and undressed myself while I tied it like I just finished bathing. I glanced at the entire room to be sure nothing would implicate me. There was nothing suspicious when I searched through the bed, but truth is, my heart was pounding faster than I could ever imagine. I haven’t been in such a mess all my life.
I finally reached the door, inserted the key and it got unlocked in seconds. “I was taking my bath,” I said even before I could look to see who was standing behind the door. Guess who? I’m sure you guessed it was my uncle right? No! Your guess is wrong. It wasn’t my uncle. It was never his friend, too. My grandma? Yes! She was unexpectedly back from the August meeting. I heaved a big sigh of relief realizing it was grandma but at the same time I was so unhappy she was back so early.
“Welcome mama. You came back so early today. What happened?”
“Your grandma is tired and needs some rest. I’ll continue tomorrow,” she responded.
“Mama, uncle Clinton is back. Have you seen him?”
“Do you think I'm just coming back now? I have been here before the light went off.” She replied in Igbo.
Even though grandma could hear and speak English, she was prone to speaking Igbo. I’d ask her in English but she’d rather reply in Igbo which she had long persuaded me to always speak. I wasn’t eloquent or perhaps fluent when it comes to speaking, Igbo but I heard and understood everything she said—except for some deeper ones that I asked for an explanation.
So, it happened that grandma had been in the living room with my uncle and his friend while Meska and I were rolling out ourselves in my room until the light went off and she decided to find out what I had been doing inside my room since she returned. Grandma then asked me to change into my clothes so we could prepare dinner. It was probably around 4:30 or so. We normally prepare dinner on time—because of grandma’s health challenge. The family doctor advised that she eats at least before 7 pm before going to bed.
“Ok, Grandma. I’ll join you soon.” I closed the door while she headed towards her room.
“Jeez! Grandma is also back. I’m doomed. How do I come out of this whole mess? I was worried.
“Meska,” I called inaudibly. He popped his head out through the door. “Come,” I signaled with my left hand. He stepped out. He was back on his vintage shirt and trouser, but both were looking rough.
“Who was that?” Meska asked inaudibly.
“Guy, that was my grandma.”
“Jeez. So quick?”
“See, I don’t just understand what’s happening today. How are you going to leave here?”
“And I have Band practice at church this evening.” Meska looked at his timepiece.
“Zee.” My uncle called from the Sitting room
“Yes, uncle. I’m coming. I hurriedly pulled off the white towel and hastily wore my clothes back. Meska reluctantly walked back to the toilet with a frown look.
At that point, my guy was already tired and frustrated. It was written on his face. One thing I knew for sure was, that Meska regretted ever coming. Though he didn’t say much, I could read him like a book. He sighed slowly when he entered the toilet. I felt it, but there was absolutely nothing I could do. Neither my grandma nor my uncle would take it lightly with me if they get to see Meska in my room. I couldn’t even imagine how disappointed they would feel. Like, I had the nerves to bring a man into the house? Not like they saw me outside standing with him. That thought alone scared the shit out of me. Now, imagine if my father hears such news, he would not spare either of us. He would come after Meska, and the outcome wouldn’t be so nice.
These and many more conflicted in my head as I unlocked the door to answer my uncle. Finally, they were set to hang out. My uncle was wearing different cloth.
“Help me plug this power bank if they restore the light.” He handed me his 20Amh power bank and its charger. “Alright, sir.”
I went straight to grandma’s room to find out what we’d cook for dinner. “Mama, we’ll be back,” Clinton announced from the Sitting room. “Ngwanu, drive safe oo,” grandma replied in Igbo. She was undressing her uniform when I walked into her room.
“Mama, what are we cooking tonight?” I asked.
“Erm, what did we cook last night?” came her response. Grandma always answered questions with another question. She was prone to it and I detested that.
“Rice and beans Jollof,” I answered.
“Okay. Check if there’s still egusi in the cupboard. Let’s prepare the soup.” She said to my discomfort. I was sad, not because I hated egusi soup but because grandma was about to give me a task I detested. Your guess is wrong, it’s not what you think. I’m talking about washing bitter leaves. Gosh! I hated bringing myself down to do that washing of a thing. Sometimes I pondered who invented the use of bitter leaves in making soup? And sadly, that was grandma’s favorite vegetable whenever we made soup. We barely use pumpkin leaves to cook soup. She said bitter leaf is medicinal and was very suitable for her health.
I left to the kitchen and confirmed there was still egusi left in the cupboard; about two cups or so. I went to the backyard and soon returned with a small basin filled with bitter leaves. And that was how I got hooked in the kitchen while my Meska was probably in my room thinking about his life. The only way he would leave without being caught was if grandma leaves her room. Both rooms were in a way that if anyone leaves through my room, whoever was in grandma’s room would surely see the person or perhaps the person’s footsteps. I didn’t want to take any careless chance too.
Grandma later joined me in the kitchen and that was when I asked while Clinton came back unannounced. “One of his friends lost his father. They came for the burial at Nnewi.” Grandma announced. Fast forward to when grandma and I were done cooking, I looked through the window, it was twilight already. The sun had gone down completely. Twinkle stars dotted the sky. I became more worried. It seemed God want to expose me today; I had mulled over it while washing the dishes. I served grandma her portion of the food in her room after washing the dishes—and just when I was about to go inside my room, my uncle and his friend walked in through the sitting room. I was stunned. There was no single sound from the gate that showed they were back.
“Welcome uncle,” I said.
“Thank you.” He reached for the sofa and collapsed tiredly. His countenance revealed he was unhappy.
Long story short, his car broke down on their way home and he had to park it somewhere he barely knew. Grandma assured him that nothing was going to happen to it. My uncle was pained particularly because they planned to use the car the next day for the burial ceremony of his colleague's father. The only option he had was if he could get a mechanic that would put it in order before 10 am the following day. I later served my uncle and his friend food before retiring to my room with the remainder.
My guy was already tired and seemed to have given up on going home. “Can you pass the night here and probably leave as soon as the crows cry in the morning?” I let out. He was dumbstruck by my question. “Hmmm. Ziggy that’s even riskier,” he said. “Then, what do we do? My uncle and his friend are back.” I announced. Meska didn’t say anything. He was more concerned about the food I brought for him. He quickly washed his hands and commenced molding the semo. I stared absent-mindedly. It was all looking like one of those affection movies I watched. There I was, playing the role of a brave protagonist. I had no appetite for food. The noodles we ate earlier in the day still filled my belly.
Meska's phone rattled. He checked and found the caller to be his mother. He didn’t pick. it vibrated the second time, the same reaction from Meska. I didn’t even know what to tell him. We just stared at each other without uttering a word.
“Don’t worry I can handle it,” he eventually broke the short silence. And that gave me some sort of relief.
“How? What do you mean you can handle it?” I quizzed.
“I know exactly what to tell my mom. I’ll call her back soon,” he retorted.
I looked at the plate, the semo was almost finished. I took one of the meat and left the rest for him. When he was done eating, he washed his hands and went inside the toilet. I overheard him cooking up lies and I knew he was talking to his mother.
Meska dashed out of the toilet smiling. I knew he had finally established a lie that would keep him in my room till the next day. His smile was contagious, I smiled back involuntarily. “Bad boy,” I mumbled. “Bad girl.” Meska paid back. I went to the door and locked it. My uncle and his friend had gone upstairs and grandma was in her room. Though I knew she wasn’t asleep already. Unlike myself, it usually took grandma about thirty minutes or more before dozing off whenever she lay on her bed.
“Meska, I need to shower now,” I reached for my towel.
“Me too,” he said inaudibly. We both looked at each other and smiled. I walked into the toilet which also served as a bathroom. Meska joined me. I was going to tell him, no, but the will to reject him was not enough. I knew what he wanted and I wanted to try it out, too. I winked at him.
The water was running. The bathroom was dark, so we let the door open. The light from the rechargeable lamp in my room flickered lightly into the bathroom. Meska turned me around admiringly. He was very complaisant with all his clothes off. I moved readily to his touch. He smiled. I felt his beards. A bit of dark hair on his chest too. He crossed his hand and grabbed my slippery ass. The shower was dripping in our bodies. He soon began to soap my boobs which glistened like seals beneath the water. He scrubbed my back.
“What did you tell your mother?” I whispered into his left ear but it seemed he didn’t hear that. I didn’t ask further. Meska was grunting and satisfying. I wrapped my arms around his warm hairy body. It was a night I will never forget.
When we eventually had our baths, he wrapped me with my white towel, soft as a robe. He carried me to the bed. We laid across it diagonally and he quickly began to draw the towel apart with care—to remove it as if it was a bandage. He eventually did, revealing my flesh, still smelling a little of soap. His hands floated into me.
“I don’t want either of us to forget this night,” he said. I answered by plastering my mouth on his— and kissed him in a way he never thought was possible. I sucked his tongue and he copied me too. I brushed my boobs across his face. He wanted to take one of my boobs into his mouth. Meska was a boobs freak. He was frantic; my boobs were killing him. My watermelons, like he had described them and smiled sheepishly. He was gentle with the way he fumbled them. Knowing what he was doing, I felt my nipple rise and that send some sweet sensation into my nerves.
I slid further down, introducing myself to the rest of him. His neck, his nipples. His chocolate brown belly. I tasted him, salty in my mouth. He then sat up and drew me back to him. I felt his belly tighten under me, hard as a board. I felt my wetness slipping on his skin, he took my nipple in his mouth and cradled my other breast in his calloused palm.
When my guy finally reached the orgasm, he slump tiredly on the bed and slept off without a word.
To be continued.
© Frank The Writer
If you're following, like and comment.
Go check out my Facebook page and follow. � @ Frank The Writer.
Share and invite your friends to like the page. �
If I see 100 comments on my page, I'll post episode 4 tonight!!
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 1:53am On Apr 21, 2022|
Episode 4 will be out very soon.
If you're ready, I'm ready.
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by Ann2012(f): 5:20am On Apr 21, 2022|
Well done OP
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by Adesina12: 8:19am On Apr 21, 2022|
This gonna be mojo blue film ...right?
Following bumper to bumper
Sweet popcorn for you OP
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by marenx: 12:19pm On Apr 21, 2022|
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 12:47pm On Apr 21, 2022|
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 12:48pm On Apr 21, 2022|
Thank you for engaging.
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 12:48pm On Apr 21, 2022|
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 9:44am On Apr 22, 2022|
Expect episode 4 later today.
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 10:22pm On Apr 22, 2022|
Living With My Grandma.
When Meska slept off, I couldn’t sleep. So many thoughts ran through my head, saying this and that. At some point, I felt remorseful. Yes, I did feel bad for myself. It wasn’t what I planned. I just wanted him to come have fun with me and go back before Grandma’s arrival. Sleeping over was never part of the plans, but life happens. I returned to the bathroom and had a cool shower without soap. While water dripped on my body, I reminisced over my sensual romance with Meska minutes ago. It seemed to occupy my head—and that was what filled my mind. We never did that before. It had always been casual sex and nothing more.
I came out of the bathroom. My eyes fixed on Meska. He was fast asleep. He was just on his boxers. I felt differently. He had never slept over in our house before. It was his first time and there he lay tiredly. He still looked cute even while he was asleep. I changed into my pajamas and lowered the rechargeable lamp before joining him on the bed.
I lay on my back, my eyes staring absent-mindedly at the faded Jesus Christ poster on the wall. So, how will he leave here tomorrow? Came a thought that rushed through my head. I picked up my phone and quickly set an alarm. I reached for the second pillow and made myself comfortable; my left hand rested on his back. I slept off not long after I shut my eyes.
4:30 am I was woken by the beep from my phone. The last time I set an alarm was while I was preparing for WAEC, and that was many months ago. I searched for my phone—and tiredly, I pressed the power button. It stopped at once. My eyes were still heavy and I felt some pains below my waist. I turned to see if Meska was awake but he was still asleep. He had been rolling from one end of the bed to another.
I dropped the phone and went back to sleep but I couldn’t seem to sleep again. My eyes were shut but I was awake. 4:40, 4:50, the alarm came aloud again. This time, I reached for the phone, unlocked it, and finally turned off the alarm.
Some minutes after 5:00 am, I overheard noise from grandma’s room. She was preparing for morning mass. She never missed it for anything—unless she was ill. So, I tapped Meska gently but he didn’t respond. I did the second time, the same result. I did it aggressively the third time, and his eyes opened. “Wake up,” I whispered. He yawned and stretched his arms tiredly. I sat on the bed in my pajamas and watched him act sluggishly. When he finally looked at my face, he smiled. He had this contagious smile that always gets me smiling back for no just cause. He still had wrinkles on his face and dull eyes from sleep.
“Get up and wear your clothes,” I signaled.
“What's time now?” he asked inaudibly.
“5:16,” I responded.
“Wow.” He stuttered. Meska stood quietly as I watched him wear his vintage shirt and trouser.
“Once grandma leaves for church, you leave immediately,” I whispered into his right ear.
“Okay.” He nodded his head. He then picked up his phone and searched through his gallery. He scrolled through some pictures of his artworks.
At intervals, I went to the door to see if there was still light from grandma’s room. I needed to know exactly when she leaves the house. “How about your uncle and his friend?” Meska asked when I rejoined him in the bed. “They are upstairs and not likely to come out until….”
I overheard the whining of the door from grandma's room. So, I paused. We both looked at each other at once. Silent stood between us for some seconds. “koi koi koi..” grandma’s footsteps a she made way to the entrance door from her room. Quietly, I tiptoed to the door and peeped through the doorknob. She was already out of sight.
I returned and quietly opened the window, she was already at the gate dressed in a blue top and blouse. There was a red rechargeable lamp in his right hand, the other hand held a small empty bucket. It was their Zone's turn to wash and mob the Church. I heaved a big sigh of relief when she closed the gate.
It was 5:32 am and she would surely get to church before 6:00 am which was the time for mass. I turned to Meska.
“Guy, get up.”
“She don go?”
“Yes. But wait let me be sure my uncle nor his friend slept in the sitting room.” I quickly opened the door while he waited back in my room.
Long story short, Meska finally left our house that morning without being caught. I was so excited while I lay back on the bed. I had long pondered how my guy would eventually leave our house. That was one of the biggest risks I ever took because of Meska and I promised myself such would never happen again.
The August meeting was finally over. My uncle and his friend had also gone back to the city after a successful burial of his friend's father. The house was once again left with grandma and I. When Meska was about to resume a new session, he reached out to me for support. It was no new thing that I usually give out foodstuffs to him each time he was resuming school.
I did as usual and smuggled out some of these things to him. He was grateful that he kept thanking me over the phone. He promised he would never have any reason to break my heart which he knew I dreaded so much. Yes, Meska knew I was so skeptical about him—and mostly whenever he was about returning to campus.
I had always felt there were girls he probably flirt with on campus, and each time I talked about it, he always frowned at it. He said it has always been three people; me, myself, and nobody else. I laughed at his silly humor. And that was one of the things he was good at. I liked his sense of humor. You can never be with him and not have any reason to be happy. I was really scared of losing him to campus girls.
Aside from the normal foodstuff I gave to him, I equally gave him part of my pocket money for upkeep. I did everything possible to make sure he didn’t lack in school. As of then, I wasn’t really using my money for anything serious. I could keep my hair unkempt for months, shoes, clothes and other basic kinds of stuff were provided by my uncles and my parents. I stayed indoors for hours. So, I wasn’t spending my money on anything.
Do you think Meska was using me? No! I doubted if he was. I remember he gifted me a very lovely portrait, a bracelet and a nice wristwatch on my birthday. I adored the wristwatch that I stopped using the rest in my possession. It was always on my wrist whenever I was outside.
Days later, Meska returned to Unizik for a new session. It was grandma and I in the boring house again, and I was gradually getting tired of staying idle at home. I wasn’t an introvert. I loved going out and meeting new people but I had no single place to visit. My movement then was triangular; I was either at the home, market, or Church. I missed having Meska around. He surely knew how to take me around with his father’s motorcycle.
In Meska's absence, I became addicted to my phone. It became my friend and companion. Then I’d invariably disturb Meska with a video call. Yes, I knew I was disturbing him because I did that regularly. And most times when I called, he would be busy with his drawing and artwork. He once told me his course required so much attention and I couldn’t agree less. But that still didn’t stop me from calling him. I always sent him pictures of myself even when he didn’t ask for them.
One fateful Saturday morning, Meska had time to chat with me. We had a very long conversation on WhatsApp. We talked about the night he spent in my room and the naughty things we did together. Amidst our discussion, Meska asked me for the unexpected. You wouldn’t believe what my guy asked for.
To be continued.
© Frank The Writer
If you're still following, kindly drop a comment.
Do well to follow my Facebook page: Frank The Writer.
Please, support by following my page. Thank you.
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 12:16pm On Apr 23, 2022|
Episode 5 is cooking.
What do you think Meska asked Ziggy for?
Have you followed my Facebook page?
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by Adesina12: 12:53pm On Apr 23, 2022|
Meska asking for nude videos or photos
Sweet popcorn for you
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by dawno2008(m): 1:51am On Apr 24, 2022|
more money,Weldon op
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 9:16am On Apr 24, 2022|
Lol... Let's wait and see the next episode
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 9:17am On Apr 24, 2022|
You think so?
We will find out.
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 8:28am On Apr 25, 2022|
Episode 5 is on the way.
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by Whale95: 10:16am On Apr 26, 2022|
Wel done bro. You be omo ope
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by Adesina12: 10:28am On Apr 26, 2022|
Still waiting bro
|Re: Living With My Grandma (18+) by frankwriter(m): 12:24pm On Apr 26, 2022|
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (Reply)
Last Gang Standing 2: Killers and Fallen Kings.(Crime). / Okwui Enwezor Dies Of Cancer At 55 / The Power Of Money
|Sections: politics (1) business autos (1) jobs (1) career education (1) romance computers phones travel sports fashion health |
religion celebs tv-movies music-radio literature webmasters programming techmarket
Links: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10)
Nairaland - Copyright © 2005 - 2023 Oluwaseun Osewa. All rights reserved. See How To Advertise. 474