Living in one room was a new experience for me. Before then, when we were still living in a three-bedroom flat, l had my own room, Chinwe had hers, while my parents shared the remaining one. But now, l had to share one room with Chinwe, while my parents shared the other one.

Now l had to watch Chinwe dress up everyday. At first it was nothing to me, untill l was introduced to corn.

I had visited my best friend and classmate John one Saturday afternoon at home, his parents had gone out, and his elder brother was at work. So we were alone when he brought out a video disc tape, slotted it into the VCD player, and told me to just watch; “you are going to like the video,” while smiling wryly.


Lo and behold, the video started showing images of n-de white men and women having segs. I surely did enjoyed the video like John had promised me.

Honestly, I didn’t know what happened to me that day, but l got addicted to corn from that very day onwards. Every Saturday afternoon that power was on, saw me running over to John’s house to watch different corn videos with him. I didn’t know how he managed to do it, but John was always slipping out a new corn disc tape from his elder brother’s room every Saturday morning, before his senior brother left for work.

I was just seventeen then, while my sister, Chinwe was fifteen.

Perhaps it was because of my new-found corn addiction that l began to watch Chinwe more closely and imagine things, whenever she was dressing up. Of course, l’d seen her n_ked so many times in the past, but now, l began to look at her with new eyes. I recognized that this girl was just not my sister, she was a woman. She had all the things that the women l saw in the corn videos having segs had: brezz; though hers were still small and a triangle in-between her legs.

And she was beautiful. Chinwe looked very much like our mother, and nothing like our father, who was an ugly man. I, on the other hand looked very much like our father and nothing like our mother. My father and l were dark, very dark indeed, while Chinwe was light and creamy as milk, just like my mother. She was a delight to look at.

Soon, l fell in love with my sister Chinwe, and when l say love, l’m not talking about the love that brothers have for their sisters, I’m talking of a more mature love, the love that men have for their lovers. Love more powerful than an electric current.

A love so powerful that it scared me. The passion that l felt for Chinwe was so powerful that l always felt a lump in my throat whenever l laid eyes on her.

One day she had bought one of those tight blouses that girls use to wear, and she was in our room struggling to get into it. I sat in one corner of the room laughing at her.

Finally, she shouted at me in exasperation.

“Ugo, stop laughing at me, and come and help me, won’t you?”

I got up from the mattress and sauntered over to her.

“Na you girls dey put yourselves into trouble with all these tight tight blouses you people wear”

“Oh, just shut up and help.”

And so l grabbed one edge of the blouse and pulled it down. My hands slid to the front and casually brushed against her brezz. I’m sure that Chinwe didn’t notice that slight touch, but there was an instant reaction from my mamba.

Casually, very nonchalantly, l moved my hands, brushing it against her brezz again. An electric current seemed to shoot through me. Slowly, l moved my hands upwards, until they were cupping her brezz. I then squeezed ever so softly.

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What is really wrong with me? That is the question l ask all the time. Sometimes, l will just sit and ponder, hoping to decipher the answer. But no solution, no rest to my mind. I have prayed, l have fasted; yet l haven’t found any solution to this great plague destroying my life. Maybe l haven’t yet prayed enough, and l guess, it has to do with the fact that I’ve grown tired of even praying.

My patience has waned. A lot of people tell me that l should go for deliverance. But which Church have l not been to? Which prophet have l not met? Yet the problem remains unsolved. My name is Amara Okonkwo. I am twenty-nine years old. I have everything a man desires in a woman. I am tall, pretty, and also well educated with a good job.

My first day on Campus opened my eyes to a whole lot about myself. I never knew l would so easily fall in Love at first sight. But that was what happened to me the moment l met Ikenna.

I met Ikenna while l was sorting out my accommodation issues at the registration center. I don’t know what he came for, but he just looked at me, smiled, and asked if l was a new student.

“Yes, l am in the department of Banking and Finance,” l announced proudly.

“Really? I am in the department of Law, 300 levels,” he said curtly.

It took my imagination to understand that 300 levels meant third year.

He told me his name, and later assisted me in filling the forms. Then he assisted me in moving into my new Hostel, and promised to return, before he left.

He did return. And that was how we became friends. I knew something was in the offing, when he started coming around frequently. And I was enjoying his attention. Ikenna was so good-looking and funny. He never even asked to become my boyfriend. Everything just fell into place. I just saw myself acting the role of his girlfriend, and he, my boyfriend.

Everything actually got re-defined the day we made Love in his room, off campus. I didn’t have any doubts whatsoever about giving Ikenna my virginity. I just did so because l loved him so much.

Soon, the romance blossomed into something everyone was envying. Every couple in the Campus wanted to be like us. We were so inseparable. I was so close to Ikenna that anytime the school was closed for Vacations. I would still be visiting him at intervals. His parents were living in Port Harcourt, while mine were staying at Aba, where l grew up. Infact, l grew so fond of lkenna, that l couldn’t see myself spending a week without seeing him. He felt the same way about me. He was always swearing to me that l was the best thing that ever happened to him.

I remember that we used to tease ourselves about how we would die, when we’ve grown old together.

“I will die before you Amara,” he would say.

“No o, l will die before you oo, who will l live with, when you’re gone?,” I would reply him.

“No, l will die first,” he would insist.

We were dreaming about having kids, growing old together, seeing our grand-children, then retiring to our house before death would come calling.

But just like a thunderbolt, death struck.

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When I was younger I always wanted to date a nymphomaniac. A chic that would always want s$. It was a fantasy that I wished for… and almost prayed for. A lady who would make s$ become boring for me. I never got that wish and as I grew up later in life I knew that such kind of girls were rare, very rare. Even if they weren’t, bruh, you really can’t handle that kind of chick, realistically.

I met Karen at the mall somewhere down the line. I’d gone to get some groceries for the kitchen and I was standing behind her while she made her payment. She didn’t buy much, just some hair cream and body spray. I had a whole lot of stuff to carry to my car and she offered to help me. Usually it’s the guy who does that, offer to help a lady in need. A lady offering to help a guy was something I wasn’t quite used to. She noticed my surprise and asked me if it was the first time a girl was helping to do anything and I laughed and said no.

She dropped my bag in the trunk and smiled at me. She was about to go get a cab when I offered to drop her off, as my way of showing thanks. She hesitated, like I expected, before accepting.

I took her number and later that evening we spoke. She wanted to know everything about me. I just wanted to know if she was down for dinner tomorrow. My call credit got exhausted and she called me back. I had to use my Bluetooth headset because the call dragged on for an hour and 43 minutes. At the end of it all she agreed to dinner but not the next day. She had choir practice, so we agreed to Saturday.

Saturday came and she couldn’t make it. She said something about her church having a seminar. Another church girl, I thought but when we spoke over the phone she had told me about her ex boyfriend and so I assumed she must have had s$ with that guy so yeah… she couldn’t be all churchy.

After her failure to show up on Saturday I decided to not call her again until whenever she felt like it was necessary for her to call me. She called me a week later when my fine cousin Rosanne was s-king my d!k. My d!k was being s-ked so passionately that I wondered how I managed to answer the call and not sound like my c-k was being s-ked.

“Hello” she said

“Hey” I answered. “You…uhh..you called.”

“Yeah, I did. Well, since you’ve decided not to.”

Rosanne’s tongue swept down the length of my c-k to my cleanshaven balls and I suppressed a m-0an.

“Oh, yeah. I felt maybe you were busy with your church seminar…and other things”

“Really, Joe? It was just for that day. I already apologized for that.”

“Okay, I’m…sorry. I should’ve called”

“So what are you doing right now?” Rosanne was removing her panty.

“Uhm… nothing really. You?” Rosanne was putting a con-d0m on my c-k.

“I’m just sitting at home, bored. Can we have that dinner this evening?”

“Dinner?” was the only thing I could ask as Rosanne, squatting with her fat a$$ towards me, used her hand to guide my d!k into her c00ch and ......

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I had just gotten a part-time job at a Spa in Abuja. I had a good time if I were, to be honest.

Working at the spa gave me the privilege of meeting wives of politicians, socialites and women you would only see in the papers or magazines, not to mention the tips which I got after almost every massage session.

These tips were the secret behind my rather lavish lifestyle in Abuja given I was just a massage therapist. Working at the spa was an adventure in itself, to say the least as there was always something to look forward to every day.

Such was the case on this fateful day when Mrs Bamidele wandered into the reception of the spa where I work. We specialize in hot stone massage and a new water massage technique that would leave you wanting more.

Mrs Bamidele was a goddess whose beauty would leave you questioning the partiality of God in creation.

The goddess Venus couldn’t come close to Mrs Bamidele in terms of beauty and physique. Being the wife of the Minister of Petroleum allowed her access to the luxury lifestyle many women dreamt of.

I had walked into the reception to pick up my phone where I left it charging when I saw Mrs Bamidele looking upset and complaining about how Cynthia wasn’t at work today. Cynthia who had called in sick had been her regular masseuse for about a year.

I mean it was just nature taking its cause. The manager then beckoned for me to come closer and then she introduced me to Mrs Bamidele as one of the best hands anyone could find in Abuja if not Nigeria. Oh, how proud I felt as the words left her mouth. I beamed with a smile, before letting Mrs Bamidele know that I could take her massage session today if she didn’t mind. I

At first, she opted to come back another time, or wait on a female therapist, as it really wasn’t a big deal and she wouldn’t want to put me in an uncomfortable position.

“Are you joking ma?! please make me uncomfortable ma” I thought to myself. I insisted that if she was okay with me massaging her, I was okay with it too.

She agreed, saying her muscles needed some tender love and care as she had had a rough week and desperately needed a soothing touch.

“Say no more ma, I will touch you so good you’d come back for more,” I replied with an innocent smile knowing the s$xal undertone in my words.

I led her into a vacant massage room. The table in the centre with fresh white linens, a pillow at the foot and hole in the centre at the top. The lighting was dim, romantic even. Soft music played and the temperature was perfect. I asked her to UnCloth to her comfort level and I excused her and went to pick up the oils.

To my surprise, she undressed all the way. Her linen dress, panties and her bra were folded neatly on the chair. She had gotten onto the bed, face down, and pulled the sheet so that it covered just her a$$.

I only just realized why she didn’t want to make me “uncomfortable”. I didn’t say a word, I just began. She m-0aned and said my touch was incredible. The pressure I applied was near perfect as I got to the knots on her back. I went a little harder in the trouble spots. I could tell she was enjoying it.

“You’re quite good,” she whispered. “Maybe even a little better than Cynthia”

“Thanks, ma’am,” I replied, “Just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

My voice was different here. Deep and soothing. Professional but s$-xy.

I worked over her back and shoulders and her legs. It all felt so good for her. I asked her if she was okay turning over as it was time to flip and she had no issue. I held the sheet up, separating us and let her flip over.

Before I put the sheet back down I asked if she wanted her br$sts covered or not. Again, to my surprise, she said it was fine. I draped the towel just above her nether regions, a few inches below her navel. The bottom fell high onto her th!-ghs and I removed the sheet. I stood at the head of the table and massaged her chest.

She felt so good. I saw her n-!pples were getting erect, I wasn’t sure she noticed, nothing was said, I just remained professional. I worked my way around her sides and then to the foot of the table.

From there, I massaged her legs. I had already hit her ca|ves when she was laying on her tummy. My hands moved up to her th!-ghs, kneading my muscles in my hands.

My touch was soft yet firm. I went a little higher than usual, pressing deep into her muscles, as my hands slid along the cr$v!ice where her h!-ps and legs meet. Still professional, but damn it was kind of turning me on and it seemed like she also was. I noticed she spread her legs so slightly, but I think it was involuntary.

I worked my hands on her body like magic, then I came back to the head of the bed. I replenished the oil on my hands and gently began to rub her stomach.

“Some clients like their tummy massaged, some don’t. What about you ma’am?”

“Yes please,” she said in a semi-unconscious state.

I poured a bit of oil on her tummy. Some seeped into her navel. I lightly began to touch her. My hands went lower, to just above the towel. I rubbed her gently and then my hands slid under the towel, just a little.

She m-0aed and spread her legs a little more. My hands went farther as I scooted closer to the head of the table. I bent over and moved my hands a little farther. My fingers were again along the cre-v!ce of her hips and upper thighs. She let out a sigh and I had an evil smile on my face.

“Is that okay?” I whispered.

“Yes, oh yes. It feels amazing,” she stammered back, barely able to get the words out.

“Just relax ma’am,” I said as my fingers pressed inward, pushing her p-v$$y ....................

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I think my wife does not love me. After five years of marriage, I have come to realize that my wife is not in love with me. This is very painful and I want to end this marriage. My wife is a former model. I say former because when I met her, even though she was a model, she was not actively modelling anymore. In her younger years, she was a model for top brands. But as she got older, she went more into acting movies and less modelling.

That was when we met. Yes, she is a very beautiful woman. I give it to her. I was swept by her. I too, I did not dull, I swept her off her feet too. Before we got married, she told me that she did not want more than 2 children. She said because she wants us to give full attention to the children instead of having plenty children we will not be able to give full attention to. The plan made sense to me and I agreed.

When we got married, I noticed my wife is a diet and gym freak. She does not like to add any weight at all…well, as an actress, she needs to look great cos her body is what she uses for acting which is her career. When she got pregnant, she was not happy she was putting on weight. Soon as she had our first daughter, she started fitness to gain her body back.  She wanted to look slim and slender quickly.

I praised her for her dedication to looking good…after all, that is why I married her. Before our baby was one year, my wife quickly got pregnant. She said she wanted to have the two children quickly so she can do tummy tuck and close the chapter of child bearing. That was when I began to feel like she was doing too much. She had our second baby, another girl. I was hoping for a boy so I asked her if we can try one more time, maybe we will have a boy.

My wife refused vehemently and said she is not having more than 2 children. That she told me before marriage. That boy or girl are the same children. I agreed with her that all gender children are from God and I am grateful but since we are young, nothing wrong in trying one more, just to see if we can have a boy. She then said, what if we try again, we have another girl, I told her I will accept it as the will of God.

yet, my wife insisted she is not having any more children. I bought her a car, gifts, gave her plenty money …just to persuade her to do this one thing for me. Instead, she took my money to go and do tummy tuck. So she can get her perfect modelling shape back. All of a sudden, she started talking of going back to modelling career again. I was surprised because even though I support her career or any business she wants to do, the modelling is not something I met her doing actively…

Modelling requires a lot of travelling and she has to be in shape all the time. I told her there is no need to go back to modelling…except she wants to be a fashion model that does not require her to be slender like other models. My wife got angry and said I was not supporting her ambitions. I kept quiet. After two years, I brought up the issue of trying for a baby boy and she flipped and said I do not want her to follow her dreams, cos knowing that she has done tummy tuck cos she is done giving birth.

My wife went to report me to her mother who is supporting her as well. My mother in-law said I know she told me she wants only 2 children and I agreed. The mother made it look like I did not appreciate the 2 girls we had and I told her I appreciate the girls but I know there is nothing wrong in desiring a boy child and if she is thinking we will have another girl, we can do IVF to determine the gender of the baby, to make sure its a boy. My wife refused.

This made me very sad. I love my girls but I just want to try to for a boy. Someone told me about having a surrogate to carry the baby if you cannot carry your own baby. When I told my wife, she started crying, saying I am disturbing her, making her have emotional stress with the way I am demanding she had another baby. To me, I feel my wife is selfish. She only wants what is best for her. She does not think about my feelings and that means, she does not love me.

My wife is 27 years old. She is still young…why can’t she try for one more baby if her husband wants one more baby? Its her body I know but lets use surrogate…she said she is not emotionally ready for another child. After seeing all the trouble this argument keeps bringing, I decided to leave her alone. But I feel bad and feel neglected. Our marriage started suffering. We both started ignoring each other.

For almost three months, we did not sleep with each other. One day, I called her and asked her, how she is able to sleep knowing she has not had c3-x with her husband for three months. This woman replied saying, c3-x is not food. That since I do not want to stop the talk about having another baby, she does not want to keep having emotional stress…that I am the source of her emotional stress.

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The only thing Patricia could remember about the dream she was having was that she was n@-ked and her pv-y was being filled sweetly by a very c3-y man. She was m...ning, perspiration running down her body as his own body covered hers, k!$$ing her, l!-ing her… then she got interrupted.

Patricia was awoken by her husband, Henry. Henry leant down on the bed, gave her a k!-$$ on the forehead to wake her up before whispering, “I have to go, honey.”

She peered up at him through bleary eyes. He was dressed in a blue shirt tucked into a darker blue trousers. His tie was around his neck but he had not knotted it yet. He had worn his socks though and looked nearly ready for work. He also looked delicious and her pv-y was still tingly from that c3-y dream she just had.

He was searching around in his pocket for something when she mumbled, “come here honey, give me one more k!-$.”

Henry smiled back at her and walked on over, bending to k!-$s his wife, this time on the l!ps. As soon as their l!ps made contact, Patricia wrapped her hands around her neck and held him in place, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, intensifying the k!-$$ while pushing up her chest so her br3@sts grazed se-dvct!vely against him. The both let out a m0-@n at the same time. Henry pulled back.

“Darling, I have to go to work,” he said, looking surprised at her sudden appetite.

“Come on, honey, just a couple of minutes, we will be quick,” Patricia replied as she started working on his belt, unhooking it. While he still protested, she unhooked his trouser zipper too and reached into his shorts to grab his hardening c0....

“You are going to make me late,”.....

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I’m in a dilemma at the moment and I do not know how I’ll get out of this mess. Without my wife, I’m a nobody, but her inability to give me a child and the pressure from my family made me have a mistress outside and she had a child for me 14 years ago.

I kept her and the child far away from my home, but she died last year and since then, Ireti has been living with my wife and I. I lied to my wife that she was sent to me from our village to help out in the house and being someone who believed in me, she never suspected anything.

In the last three weeks, however, I have been having nightmares and emotional discomfort over this ugly truth. My conscience too, has been pricking me to open up to my wife.  

But, how do I confess that kind of a crime? My wife and I started dating back in the university and we had c-z recklessly and as expected she became pregnant many times and I always got her to take it out.

At a point, the usual doctor who took out the pregnancies for her asked her to stop if she ever hoped to start a family. At that time we were out of school and my wife had started working, but I was still jobless. I pleaded with her to take it out, with a promise that that would be the last time.

The evacuation became complicated and she lost her womb and almost lost her life in the process. I stood by her and vowed to marry her despite the situation. I got a job through my wife not long after and we got married.

The years began to roll by and my family members started putting us under pressure. My wife would cry and cry and I kept assuring her that I would stand by her.

But all that changed when I went to Ilaro for a conference. It was a three-day conference. There I met Sadia at the hotel where I lodged. For reasons I do not understand up until now, I became so h0-y on that trip and invited Sadia to my room.

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Six years ago, I got a job with one of the old generation banks. It was a lucky chance. On assumption of duty, I met Tayo and the rest of my team. Tayo had been working in the Bank for a little over a year before I came on board. His connections got him the job.

He is from a wealthy political family. Tayo and I became very great friends because he was down-to-earth. In fact, many colleagues mistook our closeness for dating. Tayo must have realised this and he took maximum advantage of it.

One evening at the close of work when most of our colleagues had closed for the day, he came to my office and gently locked the door. I was startled and confused. As he drew close to me, he mumbled some inaudible words. The nice scent from his loosely unbuttoned shirt got me freaky. I felt a throbbing movement down my p-$y.

By now, Tayo and I were face-to-face, with his breath care-$$!ngly breezing my powdered face. His mouth went straight for my mouth. We were locked in a passionate k!-ss. His hands grabbed my bu-m and squeezed it. I enjoyed it and began to m0-@n.

He then used one hand to cover my mouth and turned me around. As I held my desk for support, he unzipped my skirt and dragged both the skirt and my p-ts down my legs. I didn’t even know when his turgid d!-k propped out.

Without delay, he slid it into my wet pv-y. I felt as if I was on cloud nine. After like five minutes of constant jerking in the do-qy style position, Tayo came, releasing his sweet into me. I didn’t care because I was in my safe period.

I really enjoyed the qick-!e. But I had to warn him not to try to do it again. I told him it should just end like that, and we should keep what happened as a secret. Nothing more again. But within me, I like Tayo; and I know that Tayo liked me too.

It was not too long before people started to match-make us, saying that if we got married, we would make a perfect couple. I fancied that idea also. The only issue was, Tayo had a fiancee. The daughter of another powerful political figure.

We knew it would be difficult for him to break up with her because everyone knows the rich marry the rich. On my own part, I am just from an average family and I got to that bank by God’s grace. Tayo fl!-rted with me no doubt.

But I saw in his eyes that he did not want to hurt his fiancee. After the qui-!e we had in my office that day, we decided it was best to just remain friends. My family even got to know about our friendship. My mom loved Tayo. He was a perfect gentleman.

Seeing that Tayo and I couldn’t be together, Tayo introduced me to his best friend; Shola. Shola is also from their political class but having heard so many nice things about me from Tayo, he liked me. I liked Shola but not as much as I liked Tayo; I must confess.

Tayo got married a year later. Shola and I followed suit six months later. Both guys were each other’s best man. We were like a family. We regularly exchanged visits. I used to catch Tayo’s eyes glance at me when no one was watching. Yes, we both knew there was this bond between us but we also knew we could never cross that line.

After some time, Shola began to get uncomfortable with Tayo’s closeness with me and he told Tayo to back off because we are now married. Shola even warned me to cut all ties with Tayo. Later, relocated to another side of town and didn’t tell Tayo where we moved to.

It was so bad that when Tayo’s wife gave birth, we could not attend the naming ceremony. Tayo had long become head of another business desk at work. So, we didn’t even get the opportunity to see each other at work. Unfortunately, Tayo’s wife and baby were involved in a ghastly accident and both of them died. We had to reach out to him, no matter the frosty relationship between him and my husband had.

Tayo was a mess. He was a broken man. No one could console him. He took time off work and started to drink. His younger sister who is also close to me confided in me that the family was worried that Tayo was going to destroy himself with grief. One day, I had to go and see Tayo without my husband’s knowledge. At least, for friendship and old-time sake.

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Fear women o

I am a single guy working as a junior management staff in one of the top-flight domestic telecommunications service providers. I was doing pretty good by all standards. I met this lady; Tinuke; at Adesida’s place. Adesida is an old-time friend and a colleague in my office.

We did one or two things together; including chasing women for the fun of it. Tinuke is a beautiful lady. She was a perfect description of beauty. Tall, fair, well-structured, with full br3-@ts, rounded b-tt0cks, her skin was as smooth as silk. When she talked, her voice was shrilly and freaky.

I must confess that I fell in love with what I saw that day at my friend’s house. Beyond all these attractive physical features of hers, she was a free-spirited personality. We talked about almost every topic – from politics to fashion and religion.

At the end of our one-hour stay together, it was as if we’ve known for a very long time. We were free with each other. We discussed many things but she never told me she was married. Before leaving that day, we exchanged numbers. I looked forward to seeing her again.

Three days later, I fulfilled my promise by calling her and inviting her for dinner at my place. I fixed our meeting for 7pm, but she didn’t turn up until after One hour, fifteen minutes; 8:15pm to be precise. On that night, her beauty glowed in the slightly-lit room.

As she sauntered past me, the scent of her perfume was alluring. I watched her gaits from behind, with her dropping h!-ps beckoning unto my gr-!ns. I grabbed her waists from behind.

She turned and smiled at me, saying, “awwwn… darling… I thought I’m here for dinner?” I quickly replied in an husky voice, stammering in the process, “yes, yes, yes. Please follow me to to the dining table”.

While we are eating, my mind was focused on how to rip her clothes apart and get to her ‘promised land. After dinner, we shared a bottle of red wine on the couch. Surprisingly, she gulped the first and second glasses but slowed down to sip the third.

I was sure she must have been a little tipsy because of the way she leaned her head on my chest and with one hand placed on my belly. I care-$$ed her head too and slowly removed her turban. Wow! Behold, flowing silky long hairs flung out.

By now, my d!- was uncontrollably hard and pointed out as if it was struggling with the trousers to get out and set itself free. Tinuke noticed the bu|ge and asked, “Wale, what’s this?”. I tried to answer, but nothing came out of my mouth.

She helped set my d!- free by unzipping the trousers. She then proceeded to rubbing it sen-zously. Before now, it was my mind that was running riots, but by now, my mind was practically on strike. It couldn’t even reason again. I slushed further into the couch as Tinuke did a soft massage on my d!-.

Still in the sen-zual pleasure, I felt a little wetness around my d!- I turned to see it. It was bl-wj0 session as Tinuke ran her mouth from the tip of the pe-!s to the shaft, to and fro. In short, we had c-z all through the night.

By five o’clock in the morning she freshened up and left with a promise to revisit me soon. I was tagged out, but I enjoyed every bit of it. I equally looked forward to seeing her again and having her revisit me but that wish did not come to pass because

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I met Chisom during my undergraduate years at the university. She was then a young Federal Government Merit Scholar of the Department of Geology. Our paths had crossed during an interdepartmental intellectual gabfest where we had the privilege of representing our respective departments. After the keenly contested oratory contest, I had emerged the winner of the day, closely followed by the then 17 year old Chisom.

Bright, tall and fair, Chisom was a beautiful lady with prodigious intellectual capacity. Slender, moderate and simple in outlook, her frame was not one to harbour flashes of ostentation.

She wore no flashy clothes; always appeared in flowing skirts; rarely used pendants and was never a screaming beauty from afar. Suffice to say that our respective academic attainments was enough catalyst to draw us closer.

We became friends drawn to each other by the allure of intellectuality. I enjoyed her intellectual suavity; her predilection for political elocution; her resplendent vigour and her overall charm. My Yoruba roots and her Igbo vibes was one destined for romantic collision. Soon, we were in love. We began a romantic relationship.

Being in love comes with its bouts of pleasurable odysseys. One of it is the tingling lovemaking that comes in varying intensity. After months of dilly dallying, Chisom finally gave in to my ce-xual overtures. On our very first night together, I met her a v!r-gin, naive and unsullied. Our first k!-ss was awkward. It was glaring it was her first.

I gently guided her through the basics, then the intricacies. I k!-ssed her gently, then roughly, before gently unclasping her small, pert t!-ts from her bra. She gr-0@ned helplessly, apparently unused to the thrills of lab-!al n!-ple stimulation.

I undressed her, exposing her fresh, trimmed, tight va -!na to my luscious view. I then rammed into her, taking away her v-g!ty through the rapidity of p-!|e strokes.

After our first night of c-x, several others came through. We read together, played, talked and f-ed. We grew more intimate by each day, throughout our undergraduate years in the university.

Meanwhile, all the while, I was not too fascinated with Chisom’s body. I had my big-br-3@sted women as subjects and objects of my lewd fantasies. My natural affection for intelligent ladies, had drawn me to Chisom. My c-3xl life still craved the plumpness of massive b-00bs and azz3s. To see through this pha||ic urges, I always, with the help of p0g___y.

Things took a radically awkward turn, six years into our relationship. I was 25 and she was 22, considerably grown adults. I had become an editor in a leading online newspaper, while Chisom was doing well as graduate assistant in the university we had graduated from.

“Pius, don’t you think it’s time you met my family members. We are six years into this relationship. If we truly have any future together, we should know each others’ families”

I agreed. We made arrangements. She visited my parents. We then visited hers. The familiarisation tour continued. There was largely no crisis, until a bright, cold morning, when her friend walked into our two bedroom apartment in the heartland of town, giving me a chance to actualise my fantasies, but consequently shattering my six year relationship .

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So, here is how I met my Ex-husband:

Let me not romanticize it. It wasn’t in some mall or social event or all those nice places. I looked tired and drawn, and felt like shit the night he walked in, stood over my bed, smiled and said,

“Hi, my name is Daniel, and I’m going to be your nurse for the night. Let me know if you need anything or have any complaints.”

But that is not important. What matters is I noticed him. And as sick as I was, probably dying and in need of a last confession, I felt warm inside. Inside my stomach, don’t think too far down. Yes! He was too cute to be true, and for a moment I wondered if I had started seeing the light.

You know, maybe all along that light at the end of that tunnel is subjective to every dying individual. Well, it wasn’t “the light”. It was a mortal man, and God have mercy, he was fine! I attempted a smile but it only ended in me wincing because I had the grandparents of all headaches and my face felt tight.

“Sorry my dear, you’re going to be fine soon, don’t worry”

Why, this voice can do things to me! I thought, and well I wasn’t too surprised I was thinking that. It was a far subtler version of what would have popped in my head first, had it been a perfectly normal night.

So after that first impression, my night nurse had found his way into my thoughts and was playing games with me. Sure, they were games I was willing to play but definitely not in my head. There was a bigger play ground outside of my dreams.

I laid there for close to an hour, fantasizing, till he walked in again, with a steel tray upon which my IV drugs for the night were displayed.

“Sorry to disturb you,”

He said and smiled.

“No problem,”

I whispered. But in my head,— What took you so long?!—

He pulled my bedside stool closer, sat down and took my right hand in his.

“This is going to hurt a little bit,”

He soothed and started pushing the liquid through the line fastened to the back of my palm. I winced again and he proceeded to rub his thumb over my wrist over and over again, while saying “Sorry, sorry, sorry” in that completely sinful voice. I was ready to pass out.

My eyes closed voluntarily and I let my mind go. The rubbing motion was doing all sorts of things to me and I had to restrain myself from m0@ning.

“Are you asleep?”

He asked. I hadn’t noticed he was done. He smiled again and asked if I was ok.

“No”

“Oh, sweetheart you’re going to be fine.”

“Can you sit by me for a while?”

“Sure, why not?”

And so he discarded the used syringes, cotton wool and gloves and sat next to me; my night nurse. We talked. About mundane stuff, then about private stuff and then I actually smiled without wincing.

“You have a beautiful smile.”

I died a little and smiled again.

“Thank you. Can you please help me get out of bed? I’m tired of lying down”

He helped me sit up, placed his hand gently on my back and helped me to my feet. I was standing, directly in front of him, a few inches away from his face, and I started to feel dizzy. It was the temptation. It was just too strong. I clutched my head and sighed.

“Maybe you should lie back down. You are not ready for this.”

I really wanted to k!ss him but in-between the headache and the overwhelming temptation I knew I just had to lie back down.

And thus the rest of the night passed, uneventful. The dream though was…okay let’s leave that for another day.

Now let me not mince words or beat around the bush. By dawn, when I woke up, the pain meds had left me painless and much stronger but I was so terribly turned on by the sight of my night nurse still seated, though asleep, by my side. I sat up in bed and coughed slightly. He woke up and smiled.

“I would like to take my bath but I’d need some help.”

“Okay, I’ll go get one of the ladies to come help you.”

I was initially disappointed in him but I was determined to make the morning go my way.

“No. That’s ok. I just need you to help me to the bathroom that’s all.”

So he did. But this time when his hand fell onto my waist I couldn’t keep back the m0an. He looked at me and smiled. God! I whispered.

We took slow steps to the bathroom and he lowered me gently onto the edge of the tub and turned to leave.

“Please don’t go.”

I whispered again, and he stopped. By then I had slipped one hand out of my night dress and I knew one br*8st was almost totally exposed. He cleared his throat and I could see his Adam’s apple move up then down and for the love of me, I mo@ned again. This time the look in his eyes changed.

He stepped closer and placed his hand on my bare shoulder. I kept my eyes on his face, making sure he saw clearly how much I wanted him. I slipped the other hand out of my dress and it fell down to my waist. He sucked in his breath and let out a very weak “No”.

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My name is Andy. I am 31 years old and I work in as a pure water manufacturing manager. This job am doing does not pay me much especially because its not enough to meet my needs ,talkless of my family needs because I send money to my parents as the eldest son since my elder brother died about 6 years ago.

It is my desire to settle down and find someone to marry soon. I have not been so lucky with relationship because most girls see me as not financially ok. About two months ago, I met a very pretty girl. She invited me to church program actually and because of her beauty, I came to her church. She seemed like a decent girl…church girl.

Of course, my attraction to her was because she did not seem like a materialistic girl, she looked very humble and a good girl. I started following her to church. I swear, I was not hearing anything they were saying in church but I just wanted an opportunity to make her my girlfriend and if possible, my wife.

After 3 weeks, I told her I liked her and would like to date her. She was so shy. We spent quite alot of time together, She never seemed to mind my financial level. One day, she came to my place and cooked and cleaned my place…I was so touched. I started ki$$ing her and she was like, no…she cannot have s3x until after marriage.

So, we set the ground rules: we can ki$$, cuddle but no s3x. Truly, this has been very frustrating for me because I love her so much, I really want to marry her but now, I am having second thoughts. What happened is, after she stops me from going further for s3x during our ki$$ing…she will later be sending me randy pictures…she snaps her self n@ked without her face of course and send to me…sending me very crazy.

I asked her why she does that, she will say that she is using it to remind me what I am missing by not marrying her. I have told her that one day, she will push me to r*pe her, so she should stop sending me those photos. Yet, she continues. She turned out not to be so innocent after all. We did alot of s3xual acts together but she wont let me penetrate and that was very frustrating. A few weeks ago, not only did she send me a video of her n@ked self, she was m@sturb@t!ng in that video.

That was too much for me to bear…in my head, how can you be teasing me to such s3xual heights and expect me not to act crazy…when she came over, I was like a hungry lion…I could not hold myself…

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https://spotlightes.com/my-girlfriend-her-pastor-are-pressuring-me-to-marry-herplease-advice/

My friends and his wife are going through a divorce. They have been dragging this divorce for about 3 years now. They do not have any children. Deji, my brother’s friend married Jasmine, my friend, 4 years ago. I think it was infatuation. They were married under a year of meeting.

Well, Deji is a successful career guy and Jasmine is a medical doctor in Canada. It was long distance at first but when Jasmine came down to Lagos for annual leave, things moved pretty fast for them. They both ignored the red flags. For example, they are both very opiniated people. Their arguments was always intense but they somehow managed to settle their issues.

There was also the issue of cultural and moral issues. Jasmine is more westernized, almost thinks like a feminist but Deji felt she would chill after marriage. After marriage, Deji went to join Jasmine in Canada. Things went bad pretty fast. They argued and eventually, they started being abusive to each other hence they both filed for divorce.

Somehow, Jasmine moved to US during the divorce and that stalled the whole process. Deji on his part, being a guy has been in a few relationships even though his divorce is not final. well, he is a guy, his soon to be ex wife is in US… he came back to Nigeria, he got a huge job offer back home.

Deji is a dear friend and I will never look at him anyway else but something happened. I broke up with my boyfriend just before Valentine this year. It was a very big betrayal. I thought we were good and perhaps going to get married. He apparently was sleeping with a work colleague and chose her over me.

I needed time away from preying eyes and questions from friends and family about how my cocoyam head boyfriend left me. Deji called me to come hide out in his place. I was never worried cos it never crossed my mind that anything could go wrong. I moved to deji’s luxury apartment in Ikoyi and spent almost 3 weeks there, just hiding.

Everything was cool until one night, I had made pepper soup for dinner. I hardly cook but that day, I made a delicacy and Deji was just locking his fingers.

When I finished and went to my room, Deji knocked in a few minutes later and when he came in, he said if he could kiss me, that he knows its not normal but he suddenly realized that he has a strong attraction for me. That I remind him of the good times he had with Jasmine, my friend.

We had s3......
[i]
[/i]CONTINUE READING �

https://spotlightes.com/i-slept-with-my-with-friends-husband-after-their-divorce-now-she-wants-him-back/

I cheated on my husband and I feel horrible. So horrible that I cannot pray or face him or face God. Since the incident happened, I have not been myself and I have been crying secretly for weeks now.

Even when my husband and I are making love, I will be feeling guilty and hearing voices calling me horrible names to confess.

God knows I never intended to cheat. I am one person that can swear that cheating is the last thing that I will do. I am quick to even chastise people who cannot remain faithful in their marriages.

I am fallen now. It’s like the devil wants to destroy my happiness and I was foolish enough to let him tempt me.

My marriage will be seven years in May. I married a very quiet and nice man. My husband and I dated long distance for a whole year, we met on Facebook. As at that time, he was in the process of getting a divorce. I was 33 years old at the time, I was not in the business of choosing men anyhow cos time was not on my side.

Greg, my husband and his ex wife eventually finalized their divorce a year and a half later and we got married.
After we got married, I don’t know when it happened but it was like, all the excitement to be married just died down. My husband got a big promotion at work. That meant, he was always busy at work and that affected our relationship.

At first, I did not mind much because I was comfortable but money cannot replace the love and companion of a spouse.
To make matters worse, a year later, he was then deployed to head the company’s south Africa’s office and Lagos office together.

That meant he was jetting in and out of the country very often. I tried to travel with him but I was miserable on the trips cos he would end up spending his entire day in meetings and I would either go shopping or sleep all day in the hotel room.


It did not help matters that I began to feel he was also cheating with someone at work. He seemed to love spending time more at work than with me. I constantly suspected him.

He got really frustrated and that pushed us further apart. I later decided to focus on my business. I opened a fashion house. I started meeting people at my work and occupied myself with work but I still felt the loneliness at home when I closed from work.

Last year, I got so frustrated that I told my husband I wanted a divorce. I was tired of being patient. We were not even trying hard enough to make babies cos he was never around. That was like a wake up call for him.

He did not want to be divorced a second time. That was when he pleaded with him to give him one year, after which, he will resign from his job and find another job that will afford him more time to attend to his husband duties.

Unfortunately for me, around that time, due to boredom, I reconnected with an old flame, Travis. I say flame because it was never a serious relationship at the time. we met briefly about 9 years ago and it did not last for up to a month cos he left the country.

Sometimes, he would chat with me and say he wishes things were different for us, cos he thinks about me from time to time.
Travis and I started chatting alot and he told me he would be in town in February.

It was valentine season. Love was in the air and guess what, my own husband did not even remember me on Vals day. I made a mistake, I hooked up with Travis and it was the most crazy thing to do but I had s3....

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https://spotlightes.com/i-cheated-on-my-husband-and-had-an-aborton-this-secret-is-killing-me/

I got married to my husband 4 years ago. I was pregnant when we got married. But as I moved into my husband’s house, I noticed his behavior towards me changed. It was like he was no longer in love with me. He started saying our marriage was a mistake, that I must have used charms to trap him.

When I put to bed, he was not even interested that I gave birth. Maybe because it was a girl. He spent many nights outside the home. I was really confused, pained and desperate. I spoke to several people to help me talk to him, I was praying up and down. Things went from bad to worse.

I could not bear it. I began to regret the marriage too. A very close childhood friend of mine later called and I was telling her what I was passing through. She then told me that she knows something that can help my husband to fall back in love with me. I was desperate and ready to do anything.

My friend is from the middle belt. So, she way billed the medicine to me. According to her it just herbs that women from their village use to enjoy their marriage. I used the herbs as she prescribed. I used some to cook and some to bath. I never believed in such things but things changed drastically.

My husband began to fall back in love with me. He now began to come back to me…and love me and my daughter and desire me. The only problem now is, the herbs also make his l!b!do very high and that means, c3x with my husband became from zero to 100 times in a day. That is my problem now.


My friend said there is nothing like too much c3x but how do I handle s3x twice in the morning…and three rounds every night.

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https://spotlightes.com/my-husband-lbdo-is-too-strong-to-handle-i-cant-cope/

I need  your help. I am a 33 years old young man. I would like to settle down and I have a very beautiful, hardworking and nice young lady that I would like to get married to. I met Nancy two years ago. She is an Engineer, she works with a Client of mine.

Nancy is one of a kind young lady, not just because she is a lady engineer but she is very good looking and intelligent. Beauty and brains. But there is an issue. Nancy is a classic case of tomboy.
I know that women in engineering are in a male dominated field and so can sometimes act like men but her own is more than the way she dresses or talks.

Nancy is a woman who does not know to be a woman. She cannot do anything domestic and she is not gentle or soft spoken as you expect an average woman to be.

So, you see that she hangs out alot with men in clubs than you see her at weddings. Initially, I thought she was gay but she is not. When I met her, all her rough edges did not really bother me, I was just finding her so interesting.

Over time, I not only found her interesting, I fell in love with her. This relationship has been my happiest. Yes, people do not understand why I choose to be with such a woman but she makes me very happy.

She is fun to be with and she really is kind and honest…infact too honest. As our relationship got more serious, she asked me how I feel about marriage…I thought she would like to hear that I have plans to marry her ..

To my greatest surprise, Nancy said she is afraid of marrying because she knows she is not a typical wife personality. I laughed and told her she is special and any man who marries her would be very lucky.

As things went on, I noticed that she had some guys who she introduced to me as her brothers but they were not really related. According to her, they were all in the university together and they were in the same department and were actually like very tight friends.

So, I accepted them too as her friends. They are really close. All three guys with Nancy. They gist, call and even hang out sometimes. Two of them are married. The third one is in UK. Nancy came from a broken home and she is not in good terms with her folks. So, these guys are like her true family.

Last month, I called each of the guys to tell them my intentions about Nancy. That I intend to propose and would like for them to be around when I propose to her in a surprise event. They all approved except Dino,one of the guys. He felt I was not good enough for Nancy. He told me, that he feels I am not the one for Nancy. I was surprised cos I never expected that.

In my mind, I was like…why is this guy rejecting me. He is married, could he be interested in Nancy? I tried to forget about him but this guy began to poison Nancy against me. He literally told Nancy that I am a bad choice for her. Nancy asked me what I did to Dino, that Dino told her to stay away from me. That was when I told Nancy that Dino is behaving like he is in love with her, and he should behave cos he is married.

Nancy kept quiet when I mentioned that Dino is acting like he is in love with Nancy…the next thing she said is: Dino and the guys are actually more than brothers/friends to her. That all 3 of them are in love with her, at one time or the other, each one of them proposed to her and its because they cannot agree for one of them to marry her, that to avoid enmity between all 3 of them, Nancy decided not to agree to any one of them.

In my head, I was like….how do you have 3 guys all in love with you and call them brothers? And you still hang out with them, even though they are married? I casually said…hmm, that means if they give Dino or any of the guys opportunity, they will sleep with you. Nancy , in her being too honest blurted out: I have slept with all 3 of them.

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https://spotlightes.com/my-wife-to-be-has-slept-with-her-three-brothersim-devastated/

I only was trying to help my husband. I did not mean any harm or disrespect.  We started having issues with our s3x life 3 years ago. Its not as if my husband was a s3x machine but he was not doing badly with s3xual performance either.

However, three years ago, his libido seemed to drop significantly. I didn’t complain initially but when I started suspecting maybe he was seeing another woman and so didn’t have enough stamina, I became really worried.

I told him several times that I was not happy that his performance was dropping but instead of him to do something about it, he lost interest completely in having s3x with me.

There is nothing I did not try. I tried dressing s3xy…I got role play costumes and lingerie…none worked. I begged him, tried to seduce him. Nothing. I cried and begged him some more…nothing changed. My husband said he does not know why his interest is declining but the more he tried to make an effort, the more he could not develop an erection.

We began to suspect it was spiritual, we fasted and prayed about it. My husband would climb on me and have no erection. I cried and cried. So, from suggestions from s3x experts, we began to explore other ways of achieving s3xual pleasures. I masturbated in my private times, my husband used his fingers sometimes and even though its been frustrating but we also have somehow gotten used to this new routine.

Until someone sent me a list of s3xual enhancement products for men that some company was marketing. I reluctantly bought some of the products but I never intended for my husband to use them because, in the past, he tried some medication that has not worked so we go tired and decided to stop.

The products were kept in my car, I never bothered to bring them to the house. But my husband used my car the other day to visit his friend, he picked up the friend and the friend saw the product and started asking him questions. The questions made my husband uncomfortable and when he returned he said some words that angered me. He said his friend saw it and thought he was using enhancers and that the friend was kinda mocking him.

I started to apologize to him but he went too extreme saying I am doing too much all in the name of getting s3xual pleasure, that I am behaving like a s3x add*ct. Those words angered me and I insulted him back.

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https://universelon.com/i-called-my-husband-a-one-minute-man-out-of-anger-he-refuse-to-touch-me-again-please-advice/