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 Literature › Re: Home Alone With Sassy Ones by CasNova(op): 7:28pm On Jun 12, 2025*. Modified: 7:58am On Sep 20, 2025 |
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| Romance › Re: Home Alone With Sassy Ones by CasNova(op): 7:26pm On Jun 12, 2025*. Modified: 8:01am On Sep 20, 2025 |
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| Literature › Re: Things Madam Kofo Did by CasNova(op): 3:59pm On Jun 12, 2025 |
“I...I...can't help myself Momsie!! You turn me on so much!!!! You're driving me crazy!!!” I told her, my dick now reaching maximum proportions, as I slowly made my way towards her. She was backing up at the same pace and shaking her head to what I was telling her. “Just....just stop it!! This is so wrong. You can't have these feelings about me! I'm your mother-in-law, for god's sake!!” she yelled. I stopped about three feet from her and grabbed the snap on the front of my shorts. “I know I shouldn't Momsie, but I can't control it! Look at the effect you have on me!” I cried. With that I pulled on the snap on my shorts, pulling it apart, and quickly pulling down the zipper. My shorts hung there for a moment and then fell from my waist, past my hips and down my legs, leaving me completely naked with my ragging hard-on jutting straight out from my body. “Tola, MY GOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!!!!” Momsie cried out as her wide eyes locked on to my steel hard dick. “I have to show you. It's the only way I can tell you how much I need you!” I said. She stopped in her tracks, looking up at my face and then down at my dick with a look of disbelief on her face. “PULL YOUR SHORTS UP THIS INSTANT!!” she demanded. “I can't do that Momsie.” I answered in a low, wanton tone as I continued towards her. "I need you to see how I ache for you, how badly I want you!” “Don't talk that way to me. It's not right!” she said in almost a hushed tone, her eyes still taking me all in. “ Momsie, you have no idea how hard I've tried to fight this.” I told her as I got just close enough to reach out and grab the belt on her robe. “NO, DON"T!!!” she cried as she moved back and, in doing so, causing the belt to come undone. As her back hit the wall outside her room, the robe fell away, revealing part of her naked form. I could feast my eyes on the inside contours of her round tits and the deep red hair on her full bush! She looked down and realized what had happened and quickly |
| Romance › Re: Love for Sale by CasNova(op): 8:22pm On Jun 11, 2025 |
The ride was long, the city still restless with weekend noise, but my mind kept circling back to the tall woman with the steady eyes and the crisp voice. Naomi Ajayi. I didn’t know what it meant yet—but I had a feeling this wasn’t the last I’d hear of her. --- In Surulere, everything slowed down. The noise was still there — the rattle of okadas on the street, children shouting during evening play, the distant rhythm of afrobeats floating from someone’s speaker. But inside our house, in my room, things felt still. Familiar. Predictable. The fan creaked as it rotated, slicing warm air across my face. I had changed out of my work shirt and was now in a faded white singlet, lying on my bed, one leg crossed over the other. My phone sat face-down beside me. The light had dimmed outside — you could already hear a few generators starting up in the neighborhood, and that meant NEPA had done their usual. I reached for my wallet, almost unconsciously. Slid it open. Took out the card again. Naomi Ajayi. Managing Partner, Ajayi & Cole Legal Consult. There was something bold about the card itself — not the usual flashy gold fonts or oversized logos. Just cream-colored stock, elegant black lettering, and weight. The kind of weight that says: this name matters. But to me, it was just a name. A name that hadn’t rung any bell, but somehow still echoed. What was it about her? She didn’t flirt. She wasn’t even particularly warm. But there was a gravity in the way she looked at me, spoke to me — like she’d already decided I was capable of more than selling pasta and arranging olive oil on imported shelves. That was the part that stayed with me. “You're in your head again.” I didn’t hear the knock, but I knew the voice. Lola. The only person who could come in without making the air feel different. She pushed the door open with her elbow, holding a nylon bag in one hand. Her voice was light, teasing, but she studied me carefully. She always did. 2 Likes 1 Share |
| Literature › Re: Love for Sale by CasNova(op): 8:21pm On Jun 11, 2025 |
The ride was long, the city still restless with weekend noise, but my mind kept circling back to the tall woman with the steady eyes and the crisp voice. Naomi Ajayi. I didn’t know what it meant yet—but I had a feeling this wasn’t the last I’d hear of her. --- In Surulere, everything slowed down. The noise was still there — the rattle of okadas on the street, children shouting during evening play, the distant rhythm of afrobeats floating from someone’s speaker. But inside our house, in my room, things felt still. Familiar. Predictable. The fan creaked as it rotated, slicing warm air across my face. I had changed out of my work shirt and was now in a faded white singlet, lying on my bed, one leg crossed over the other. My phone sat face-down beside me. The light had dimmed outside — you could already hear a few generators starting up in the neighborhood, and that meant NEPA had done their usual. I reached for my wallet, almost unconsciously. Slid it open. Took out the card again. Naomi Ajayi. Managing Partner, Ajayi & Cole Legal Consult. There was something bold about the card itself — not the usual flashy gold fonts or oversized logos. Just cream-colored stock, elegant black lettering, and weight. The kind of weight that says: this name matters. But to me, it was just a name. A name that hadn’t rung any bell, but somehow still echoed. What was it about her? She didn’t flirt. She wasn’t even particularly warm. But there was a gravity in the way she looked at me, spoke to me — like she’d already decided I was capable of more than selling pasta and arranging olive oil on imported shelves. That was the part that stayed with me. “You're in your head again.” I didn’t hear the knock, but I knew the voice. Lola. The only person who could come in without making the air feel different. She pushed the door open with her elbow, holding a nylon bag in one hand. Her voice was light, teasing, but she studied me carefully. She always did. |
| Romance › Re: Benefits Of Having Older Woman As Lover by CasNova(op): 11:01pm On Jun 10, 2025 |
Common Challenges in Age-Gap Romantic Relationships 1. Social Stigma & Judgment Society tends to be more critical of relationships where the woman is significantly older—especially if she’s dating a younger man. You might encounter assumptions, double standards, or even dismissive attitudes (e.g., “cougar” stereotypes). How to handle it: Be confident in your relationship and communicate openly. The more secure you both are, the less outside noise matters. Surround yourselves with supportive people and ignore outdated thinking. --- 2. Different Life Stages You may be in different phases—one person might be building a career, while the other is established or even thinking about retirement. This can affect energy levels, priorities, or long-term plans. How to handle it: Talk about goals early on. Align on what you want from the relationship in the short and long term. Respect differences without trying to force one another into a specific life stage. --- 3. Family or Peer Disapproval Friends or family might not understand or support the relationship. Sometimes, their concern is rooted in love—but often, it’s based on bias. How to handle it: Educate where appropriate, but don’t feel obligated to justify your relationship. Healthy boundaries are essential. Ultimately, your happiness matters more than others' approval. --- 4. Future Planning Issues around aging, health, and finances can be sensitive but important. For example, the older partner may be thinking about retirement while the younger one is just hitting their stride. How to handle it: Have candid conversations about what the future looks like—emotional needs, financial security, and even long-term care, if relevant. Mutual respect and realism are key. 7 Likes |
| Romance › Benefits Of Having Older Woman As Lover by CasNova(op): 4:51pm On Jun 10, 2025 |
Having an older woman as a lover can offer a range of emotional, psychological, and even physical benefits, depending on the individuals involved and the nature of the relationship. Here are several commonly reported advantages: 22 Likes 1 Share
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| Romance › Re: Love Beyond Borders by CasNova(op): 2:21pm On Jun 10, 2025 |
He stared at the screen. Then typed: I’ll be there. And pressed send. --- The sun dipped below Aguda’s skyline as Kole pulled up outside a sleek, high-rise apartment building. The kind of place with polished marble floors, security guards who smiled politely but didn’t trust you, and elevators scented with a fragrance Kole was pretty sure cost more than his last three months’ rent combined. He checked the address again — no mistake. This was definitely Ms. Edith Edewor’s. Taking a deep breath, Kole adjusted his tie and stepped inside. The building was quiet, sterile. No crowd. No balloons. No loud music. He buzzed her apartment number. A moment later, the door clicked open. “Welcome,” Edith said, smiling in a way that was both warm and a little mysterious. The apartment was bathed in soft amber light, a carefully curated playlist humming in the background. There was a bottle of expensive wine half-empty on the coffee table, a small platter of suya skewers, and two glasses — one of which Edith poured herself a generous measure from. Kole blinked. “Where is everyone else?” Edith shrugged, settling into a velvet armchair like a queen in her lair. “I’m afraid you’re the only one who made it,” she said with a sly grin. “But honestly? I prefer it this way.” Kole wasn’t sure if he should laugh, leave, or run for the door. He sat down cautiously across from her. “So… this isn’t really a birthday party?” “Nope,” she said, raising her glass. “It’s a test.” “A test?” “To see if you’re as interesting without an audience.” Kole raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help smiling. “Well, consider me tested.” They talked — at first carefully, then more freely. She shared stories about the chaos of running a company, her struggles as a single mother, and the absurdities of Lagos traffic. He told her about his dreams of starting his own agency and his love-hate relationship with Yaba’s streets. The wine loosened their words, and the distance between them shrank. Edith laughed, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. “You know, Kole, it’s rare to meet someone who isn’t dazzled by the spotlight or afraid of the shadows.” He caught himself staring. “Ms. Edith…” he started, but she cut him off with a mischievous smile. “Call me Edith when it’s just us.” The clock ticked past midnight. The bottle was nearly empty. The line between boss and man blurred. She was wearing see through blouse with miniskirt. Edith knew what her mission.was, and he soon knew too. She adjusted on her seat. Her thighs were now more bare that covered. But the young man needed more that this. He needed physical prodding. "Have you ever made love to an older woman before?" She asked. Silently, Kole shook his head. "Will you be afraid to do it if you were given the opportunity?" What a question! It was a strong one; so strong it could break a wall. "I want you to be sincere," she said Coolly. "No. I will not be afraid to explore |
| Literature › Re: Love Beyond Borders (18+) by CasNova(op): 2:19pm On Jun 10, 2025 |
He stared at the screen. Then typed: I’ll be there. And pressed send. --- The sun dipped below Aguda’s skyline as Kole pulled up outside a sleek, high-rise apartment building. The kind of place with polished marble floors, security guards who smiled politely but didn’t trust you, and elevators scented with a fragrance Kole was pretty sure cost more than his last three months’ rent combined. He checked the address again — no mistake. This was definitely Ms. Edith Edewor’s. Taking a deep breath, Kole adjusted his tie and stepped inside. The building was quiet, sterile. No crowd. No balloons. No loud music. He buzzed her apartment number. A moment later, the door clicked open. “Welcome,” Edith said, smiling in a way that was both warm and a little mysterious. The apartment was bathed in soft amber light, a carefully curated playlist humming in the background. There was a bottle of expensive wine half-empty on the coffee table, a small platter of suya skewers, and two glasses — one of which Edith poured herself a generous measure from. Kole blinked. “Where is everyone else?” Edith shrugged, settling into a velvet armchair like a queen in her lair. “I’m afraid you’re the only one who made it,” she said with a sly grin. “But honestly? I prefer it this way.” Kole wasn’t sure if he should laugh, leave, or run for the door. He sat down cautiously across from her. “So… this isn’t really a birthday party?” “Nope,” she said, raising her glass. “It’s a test.” “A test?” “To see if you’re as interesting without an audience.” Kole raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help smiling. “Well, consider me tested.” They talked — at first carefully, then more freely. She shared stories about the chaos of running a company, her struggles as a single mother, and the absurdities of Lagos traffic. He told her about his dreams of starting his own agency and his love-hate relationship with Yaba’s streets. The wine loosened their words, and the distance between them shrank. Edith laughed, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. “You know, Kole, it’s rare to meet someone who isn’t dazzled by the spotlight or afraid of the shadows.” He caught himself staring. “Ms. Edith…” he started, but she cut him off with a mischievous smile. “Call me Edith when it’s just us.” The clock ticked past midnight. The bottle was nearly empty. The line between boss and man blurred. She was wearing see through blouse with miniskirt. Edith knew what her mission.was, and he soon knew too. She adjusted on her seat. Her thighs were now more bare that covered. But the young man needed more that this. He needed physical prodding. "Have you ever made love to an older woman before?" She asked. Silently, Kole shook his head. "Will you be afraid to do it if you were given the opportunity?" What a question! It was a strong one; so strong it could break a wall. "I want you to be sincere," she said Coolly. "No. I will not be afraid to explore |
| Romance › Re: Love for Sale by CasNova(op): 6:30pm On Jun 08, 2025 |
She nodded slowly, inspecting the labels like someone who knew what to look for. “Thank you, Mr…?” “Femi, ma. Femi Johnson.” “Hmm.” She looked at me again, this time more directly. “You seem quite knowledgeable. Have you worked here long?” “Yes, ma. Going on two years now. I assist in supervising sales and floor operations.” She gave a small, approving smile. “You carry yourself well. That’s good.” “Thank you, ma,” I said, bowing my head slightly. She moved on, picking a few more items with quiet efficiency—dried herbs, balsamic vinegar, a bottle of wine I wasn’t familiar with. I didn’t hover, just stayed a polite few steps behind in case she needed anything else. There was something about her presence—it demanded respect without saying a word. At the checkout counter, she didn’t fumble with her purse like many do. Her card was out before the cashier could finish bagging. Then, just as she turned to leave, she paused and looked in my direction. “You’re attentive, Femi. That’s rare.” I wasn’t sure what to say, so I kept it formal. “Thank you very much, ma. It’s always a pleasure to assist.” She reached into her handbag again—this time, not for her card. She pulled out a thin, ivory-colored business card and handed it to me. “You may call me in case you need anything,” she said. Her tone was still calm, but there was something intentional in her words. Like she meant more than she was saying. “Thank you, ma,” I replied, taking the card with both hands, as my father taught me. Always receive things with respect. As she walked out, I looked down at the card. Naomi Ajayi Managing Partner, Ajayi & Cole Legal Consult Direct Line: [a number I wasn’t going to call anytime soon] The name didn’t ring a bell. But something about it—it felt like it should. I slipped the card carefully into my wallet and finished my shift. At 9 p.m., after the store had quieted and the last register was closed, I boarded a bus to Surulere. The ride was long, the city still restless with weekend noise, but my mind kept circling back to the tall woman with the steady eyes and the crisp voice. Naomi Ajayi. I didn’t know what it meant yet—but I had a feeling this wasn’t the last I’d hear of her. 3 Likes |
| Literature › Re: Love for Sale by CasNova(op): 6:29pm On Jun 08, 2025 |
She nodded slowly, inspecting the labels like someone who knew what to look for. “Thank you, Mr…?” “Femi, ma. Femi Johnson.” “Hmm.” She looked at me again, this time more directly. “You seem quite knowledgeable. Have you worked here long?” “Yes, ma. Going on two years now. I assist in supervising sales and floor operations.” She gave a small, approving smile. “You carry yourself well. That’s good.” “Thank you, ma,” I said, bowing my head slightly. She moved on, picking a few more items with quiet efficiency—dried herbs, balsamic vinegar, a bottle of wine I wasn’t familiar with. I didn’t hover, just stayed a polite few steps behind in case she needed anything else. There was something about her presence—it demanded respect without saying a word. At the checkout counter, she didn’t fumble with her purse like many do. Her card was out before the cashier could finish bagging. Then, just as she turned to leave, she paused and looked in my direction. “You’re attentive, Femi. That’s rare.” I wasn’t sure what to say, so I kept it formal. “Thank you very much, ma. It’s always a pleasure to assist.” She reached into her handbag again—this time, not for her card. She pulled out a thin, ivory-colored business card and handed it to me. “You may call me in case you need anything,” she said. Her tone was still calm, but there was something intentional in her words. Like she meant more than she was saying. “Thank you, ma,” I replied, taking the card with both hands, as my father taught me. Always receive things with respect. As she walked out, I looked down at the card. Naomi Ajayi Managing Partner, Ajayi & Cole Legal Consult Direct Line: [a number I wasn’t going to call anytime soon] The name didn’t ring a bell. But something about it—it felt like it should. I slipped the card carefully into my wallet and finished my shift. At 9 p.m., after the store had quieted and the last register was closed, I boarded a bus to Surulere. The ride was long, the city still restless with weekend noise, but my mind kept circling back to the tall woman with the steady eyes and the crisp voice. Naomi Ajayi. I didn’t know what it meant yet—but I had a feeling this wasn’t the last I’d hear of her. |
| Romance › Re: Love Beyond Borders by CasNova(op): 9:05am On Jun 08, 2025 |
Kole walked out slowly, heart thudding, unsure whether he’d just been invited to a party… or into a story he wasn’t ready for. --- That night, Kole found himself back in Yaba, where the roads were uneven, the power lines tangled like gossip, and the air tasted like roasted corn and unfinished dreams. He stood outside Teniola’s design studio — a converted boys’ quarters with string lights, mismatched furniture, and a large painted sign above the door that read “Omo, Just Create”. It was peak chaos inside, as usual. “Is that my favorite almost-famous ad man?” Teni shouted as he stepped in, brushing chalk dust off his shoulders. “Teni, you’ve got paint on your face again,” Kole replied, grabbing a bottle of malt from her mini fridge without asking. “I’m in the zone. Don’t interrupt a genius during divine download.” She was wearing joggers, a paint-stained tank top, and a head wrap that looked like it had survived three wars. And yet, somehow, she still looked better than half the influencers clogging Lagos traffic with ring lights and Range Rovers. “So, how’s the land of slogans and sexual tension?” she asked, flopping onto a bean bag. Kole froze, mid-sip. “What?” “You’re trending on the office gossip blog, my guy. I have spies. One of them is on the Bext WhatsApp group chat as ‘Blessing from HR,’ but that’s a long story.” He rolled his eyes. “People are bored. Nothing happened.” Teni raised a brow. “Did she invite you to her birthday yet?” Kole turned, eyes wide. “How did you—?” “Ah! You think you’re special? That woman runs on mystery and mischief. She once invited a junior copywriter to brunch and ended up giving him a month of paid leave — without HR approval. My point is: Edith Edewor is not normal.” “She said it’ll be a small hangout,” Kole muttered. “Right. With just one guest. You.” Kole didn’t respond. Teni sighed, softer now. “Look. I’m not saying don’t go. I’m saying... go with your eyes open. Edith doesn’t just flirt for fun. She flirts like she’s testing a prototype — to see how much power she still has.” There was a silence. Heavy, but familiar. The kind that often filled the room when Kole didn't want to admit she was right. “Besides,” she added, leaning back, “if you’re going to fall into anything, it should at least come with jollof and soft lighting. Not career-ending consequences.” Kole chuckled. “You’re ridiculous.” “And you’re in denial.” He looked around the studio — the art, the clutter, the energy. It felt safe here. Real. No glass walls. No agendas. Just Teni, chaos, and unfiltered truth. And yet… something in him was curious. Curious enough to wonder if the boss’s invite was more than just a trap. Or maybe that’s exactly why he wanted to find out. --- Later that night, he lay in bed staring at the ceiling fan spinning above. A new message blinked on his phone. Ms. Edewor: Saturday. 7pm. Come hungry for good wine and better conversation. (Location pinned) He stared at the screen. Then typed: I’ll be there. And pressed send. |
| Romance › Re: Something Fishy About Ms Kay by CasNova(m): 7:57pm On Jun 06, 2025 |
OT2024: |
| Romance › Re: Dangerous Passion by CasNova(m): 5:24pm On Jun 06, 2025 |
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| Romance › Re: A Knock In The Night by CasNova(m): 5:22pm On Jun 06, 2025 |
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| Romance › Re: Love for Sale by CasNova(op): 11:11am On Jun 06, 2025*. Modified: 9:02am On Jun 08, 2025 |
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| Literature › Re: Love Beyond Borders (18+) by CasNova(op): 11:05am On Jun 06, 2025 |
Kole walked out slowly, heart thudding, unsure whether he’d just been invited to a party… or into a story he wasn’t ready for. --- That night, Kole found himself back in Yaba, where the roads were uneven, the power lines tangled like gossip, and the air tasted like roasted corn and unfinished dreams. He stood outside Teniola’s design studio — a converted boys’ quarters with string lights, mismatched furniture, and a large painted sign above the door that read “Omo, Just Create”. It was peak chaos inside, as usual. “Is that my favorite almost-famous ad man?” Teni shouted as he stepped in, brushing chalk dust off his shoulders. “Teni, you’ve got paint on your face again,” Kole replied, grabbing a bottle of malt from her mini fridge without asking. “I’m in the zone. Don’t interrupt a genius during divine download.” She was wearing joggers, a paint-stained tank top, and a head wrap that looked like it had survived three wars. And yet, somehow, she still looked better than half the influencers clogging Lagos traffic with ring lights and Range Rovers. “So, how’s the land of slogans and sexual tension?” she asked, flopping onto a bean bag. Kole froze, mid-sip. “What?” “You’re trending on the office gossip blog, my guy. I have spies. One of them is on the Bext WhatsApp group chat as ‘Blessing from HR,’ but that’s a long story.” He rolled his eyes. “People are bored. Nothing happened.” Teni raised a brow. “Did she invite you to her birthday yet?” Kole turned, eyes wide. “How did you—?” “Ah! You think you’re special? That woman runs on mystery and mischief. She once invited a junior copywriter to brunch and ended up giving him a month of paid leave — without HR approval. My point is: Edith Edewor is not normal.” “She said it’ll be a small hangout,” Kole muttered. “Right. With just one guest. You.” Kole didn’t respond. Teni sighed, softer now. “Look. I’m not saying don’t go. I’m saying... go with your eyes open. Edith doesn’t just flirt for fun. She flirts like she’s testing a prototype — to see how much power she still has.” There was a silence. Heavy, but familiar. The kind that often filled the room when Kole didn't want to admit she was right. “Besides,” she added, leaning back, “if you’re going to fall into anything, it should at least come with jollof and soft lighting. Not career-ending consequences.” Kole chuckled. “You’re ridiculous.” “And you’re in denial.” He looked around the studio — the art, the clutter, the energy. It felt safe here. Real. No glass walls. No agendas. Just Teni, chaos, and unfiltered truth. And yet… something in him was curious. Curious enough to wonder if the boss’s invite was more than just a trap. Or maybe that’s exactly why he wanted to find out. --- Later that night, he lay in bed staring at the ceiling fan spinning above. A new message blinked on his phone. Ms. Edewor: Saturday. 7pm. Come hungry for good wine and better conversation. (Location pinned) He stared at the screen. Then typed: I’ll be there. And pressed send. |
| Romance › Re: A Strange Love by CasNova(m): 5:00pm On Jun 04, 2025 |
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| Literature › Re: Love for Sale by CasNova(op): 2:27pm On Jun 04, 2025 |
Saturdays are the busiest days at the store. By noon, the aisles are packed, the air buzzes with voices, and the smell of fresh produce and cleaning agents lingers just enough to remind you that everything's been prepared for the crowd. I’ve worked at TrolleyMart in Ikoyi for almost two years now—started as a floor assistant, moved up to assistant sales supervisor after some months of staying sharp and avoiding trouble. It’s a big store, shiny floors and all, with security guards at the door and customers who wear expensive perfume and drive big SUVs. You learn quickly to keep things professional. Polite. Precise. I was restocking a shelf in the gourmet section that afternoon when I noticed her. She walked in like she owned the place. Not with arrogance—but with the kind of calm confidence that makes people instinctively give way. She was dressed in a crisp white blouse, neatly tucked into navy blue high-waisted trousers. Not flashy, not loud—just clean, deliberate elegance. Her hair was pulled back into a low bun, gold stud earrings catching a bit of the store's lighting. I couldn’t have said why, but I stood a bit straighter when I saw her. She moved with purpose, scanning the signs above each aisle, her heels clicking softly on the tile floor. She wasn’t just browsing—she knew what she came for. I stepped forward, as we’re trained to do. “Good afternoon, ma. Welcome to TrolleyMart. May I assist you?” I asked, my hands behind my back, my tone formal. She turned to me, just slightly. Her eyes met mine—sharp, observant, but not unfriendly. “Yes, actually,” she said. Her voice was low and measured. Confident. “Do you still have the De Cecco brand pasta? Tagliatelle, specifically. And the French olive oil—what’s the name… Clarette?” “Clarette, yes ma. We keep both items in aisle 7. I can walk you there, if you don’t mind.” “I’d appreciate that.” As we walked, I noticed other staff discreetly looking in our direction. Maybe it was the way she held herself. Maybe it was the fact that people like her didn’t often ask for help. They expected it. At the shelf, I pointed out the pasta options. “This is the Tagliatelle, ma. Fresh stock. And here’s the Clarette olive oil. Imported batch—came in on Wednesday.” She nodded slowly, inspecting the labels like someone who knew what to look for. “Thank you, Mr…?” “Femi, ma. Femi Johnson |
| Romance › Re: Love for Sale by CasNova(op): 2:24pm On Jun 04, 2025 |
Saturdays are the busiest days at the store. By noon, the aisles are packed, the air buzzes with voices, and the smell of fresh produce and cleaning agents lingers just enough to remind you that everything's been prepared for the crowd. I’ve worked at TrolleyMart in Ikoyi for almost two years now—started as a floor assistant, moved up to assistant sales supervisor after some months of staying sharp and avoiding trouble. It’s a big store, shiny floors and all, with security guards at the door and customers who wear expensive perfume and drive big SUVs. You learn quickly to keep things professional. Polite. Precise. I was restocking a shelf in the gourmet section that afternoon when I noticed her. She walked in like she owned the place. Not with arrogance—but with the kind of calm confidence that makes people instinctively give way. She was dressed in a crisp white blouse, neatly tucked into navy blue high-waisted trousers. Not flashy, not loud—just clean, deliberate elegance. Her hair was pulled back into a low bun, gold stud earrings catching a bit of the store's lighting. I couldn’t have said why, but I stood a bit straighter when I saw her. She moved with purpose, scanning the signs above each aisle, her heels clicking softly on the tile floor. She wasn’t just browsing—she knew what she came for. I stepped forward, as we’re trained to do. “Good afternoon, ma. Welcome to TrolleyMart. May I assist you?” I asked, my hands behind my back, my tone formal. She turned to me, just slightly. Her eyes met mine—sharp, observant, but not unfriendly. “Yes, actually,” she said. Her voice was low and measured. Confident. “Do you still have the De Cecco brand pasta? Tagliatelle, specifically. And the French olive oil—what’s the name… Clarette?” “Clarette, yes ma. We keep both items in aisle 7. I can walk you there, if you don’t mind.” “I’d appreciate that.” As we walked, I noticed other staff discreetly looking in our direction. Maybe it was the way she held herself. Maybe it was the fact that people like her didn’t often ask for help. They expected it. At the shelf, I pointed out the pasta options. “This is the Tagliatelle, ma. Fresh stock. And here’s the Clarette olive oil. Imported batch—came in on Wednesday.” She nodded slowly, inspecting the labels like someone who knew what to look for. “Thank you, Mr…?” “Femi, ma. Femi Johnson 2 Likes |
| Romance › Love for Sale by CasNova(op): 8:54am On Jun 04, 2025*. Modified: 6:35am On Jun 29, 2025 |
The popular saying is that money cannot buy love. Femi strongly believes this. He has love for Lola his childhood sweetheart. When he meets the sultry, calculating and manipulative Ms. Naomi Ajayi, his principle is seriously tested. He stands firm, but not for too long. Loading..... |
| Literature › Love for Sale by CasNova(op): 8:41am On Jun 04, 2025*. Modified: 6:34am On Jun 29, 2025 |
The popular saying is that money cannot buy love. Femi strongly believes this. He has love for Lola his childhood sweetheart. When he meets the sultry, calculating and manipulative Ms. Naomi Ajayi, his principle is seriously tested. He stands firm, but not for too long. Loading..... |
| Literature › Re: Love Beyond Borders (18+) by CasNova(op): 7:34pm On Jun 02, 2025 |
Before he could overthink it, a familiar voice rang out. “Morning team! Conference room, now. Bring your brains — and coffee.” It was her. Ms. Edith Edewor glided across the open floor in her usual monochrome ensemble — high heels clicking against the tiled floor, a structured black blazer hugging her shoulders, and confidence leaking from every pore. Kole stood up quickly, tucking his phone away as he followed the rest of the team into the glass-walled meeting room. Inside, the lights were a little too bright, the AC a little too cold, and the tension — just right. She started the meeting like always: brisk, sharp, all business. Until… “Kole, why don’t you walk us through the Amstel brief again? You had some… interesting angles.” There it was — the pause, the smile, the slow blink. Subtle, but intentional. He cleared his throat. “Sure, ma. The angle we’re proposing is less about the product and more about the lifestyle. Urban freedom, soft rebellion, shared moments. We want to shoot it in Yaba, actually — let the brand speak from the street level up.” She nodded slowly, then looked around the room. “See? Fresh. Real. Not everything has to be Eko Atlantic and drone shots. Let’s go gritty for once.” Chuks coughed dramatically. “Kole’s making gritty look sexy these days.” The room laughed. Ms. Edewor smiled, eyes still on Kole. “Meeting adjourned. Except you, Kole. Stay a minute.” Everyone filed out. Kole stayed seated, pulse in his ears. She walked to the window and stood there, arms folded, the light catching the gold accent in her hair. “I like how your mind works,” she said finally, not looking at him. “I like it a lot.” He smiled politely. “Thank you, ma. I’m just doing my job.” She turned to face him, and this time her expression was softer — almost unreadable. “It’s Edith. At least when it’s just the two of us.” A beat passed. Then another. “I’m having a small birthday hangout this weekend,” she added casually, walking toward her desk. “Just wine, music, and a few interesting people. You should come.” “Oh. Okay. Uh… yeah. I can try.” “Don’t try. Come. I’ll send the address.” With that, she picked up a folder and sat, signaling the conversation was over. Kole walked out slowly, heart thudding, unsure whether he’d just been invited to a party… or into a story he wasn’t ready for. |
| Romance › Re: Love Beyond Borders by CasNova(op): 7:33pm On Jun 02, 2025 |
Before he could overthink it, a familiar voice rang out. “Morning team! Conference room, now. Bring your brains — and coffee.” It was her. Ms. Edith Edewor glided across the open floor in her usual monochrome ensemble — high heels clicking against the tiled floor, a structured black blazer hugging her shoulders, and confidence leaking from every pore. Kole stood up quickly, tucking his phone away as he followed the rest of the team into the glass-walled meeting room. Inside, the lights were a little too bright, the AC a little too cold, and the tension — just right. She started the meeting like always: brisk, sharp, all business. Until… “Kole, why don’t you walk us through the Amstel brief again? You had some… interesting angles.” There it was — the pause, the smile, the slow blink. Subtle, but intentional. He cleared his throat. “Sure, ma. The angle we’re proposing is less about the product and more about the lifestyle. Urban freedom, soft rebellion, shared moments. We want to shoot it in Yaba, actually — let the brand speak from the street level up.” She nodded slowly, then looked around the room. “See? Fresh. Real. Not everything has to be Eko Atlantic and drone shots. Let’s go gritty for once.” Chuks coughed dramatically. “Kole’s making gritty look sexy these days.” The room laughed. Ms. Edewor smiled, eyes still on Kole. “Meeting adjourned. Except you, Kole. Stay a minute.” Everyone filed out. Kole stayed seated, pulse in his ears. She walked to the window and stood there, arms folded, the light catching the gold accent in her hair. “I like how your mind works,” she said finally, not looking at him. “I like it a lot.” He smiled politely. “Thank you, ma. I’m just doing my job.” She turned to face him, and this time her expression was softer — almost unreadable. “It’s Edith. At least when it’s just the two of us.” A beat passed. Then another. “I’m having a small birthday hangout this weekend,” she added casually, walking toward her desk. “Just wine, music, and a few interesting people. You should come.” “Oh. Okay. Uh… yeah. I can try.” “Don’t try. Come. I’ll send the address.” With that, she picked up a folder and sat, signaling the conversation was over. Kole walked out slowly, heart thudding, unsure whether he’d just been invited to a party… or into a story he wasn’t ready for. |
| Romance › Re: Something Fishy About Ms Kay by CasNova(m): 5:13pm On Jun 02, 2025 |
Nice work 1 Like |
| Romance › Love Beyond Borders by CasNova(op): 12:04pm On Jun 01, 2025*. Modified: 6:45am On Jun 10, 2025 |
Good day, dear friends. This is another exciting story for you. Happy reading: Love Beyond Borders Kole experiments with love before he finally finds it. From Edith to Rukayat, his passion learns a lot. Then, he meets the sultry Dofi in Ghana and he realizes that things don't have to be ideal, but they have to be real. Caution: The story contains some steamy scenes. The elevator smelled like desperation and vanilla air freshener — the kind that tried too hard to cover up the truth. Kole Olusola stepped in anyway, adjusting the sleeves of his navy blazer as he hit the button for the 6th floor. Kole Olusola was a 28-year-old man known for his kindness, boundless energy, and sharp intellect. He approached life with enthusiasm and a positive spirit that inspired those around him. Brilliant in both thought and action, Kole firmly believed that hard work was the key to success and never shied away from putting in the effort needed to achieve his goals. His combination of warmth, determination, and intelligence made him both well-respected and well-liked. Bext Advertising Company was already buzzing by 8:30 a.m., and he had exactly five minutes before the Monday strategy meeting started. The doors opened with a ding, and Kole stepped out into the open-plan office, greeted by the familiar hum of keyboards, ringing phones, and the voice of Chuks, the company’s self-appointed town crier. “My people! I heard somebody’s account pitch got approved o,” Chuks sang, standing by the water dispenser with a toothpick between his teeth. “Dem say Ms. Edewor smile like say she see husband.” Kole gave a short laugh and kept walking. He wasn’t in the mood. That comment was too close to home. He took his seat at his desk, a corner near the windows with a view of the parking lot and the banana seller who somehow always showed up at the same time he did. His inbox had thirteen unread messages. His phone buzzed — a WhatsApp notification from an unknown number. He clicked. Ms. Edewor: Morning, Kole. Still thinking about your pitch last week. You have a very strategic mind... and something else I can’t quite place. Let’s talk soon. 🌹 He blinked at the screen. “Ahn ahn. Is this how we’re doing it now?” he muttered, nearly choking on his bottled water. “Kole, you good?” It was Mariam, the intern who handled client presentations. “Yeah, yeah. Just reading something… surprising.” Surprising was putting it lightly. Edith Edewor didn’t just message people. She summoned. She declared. She scheduled meetings via her PA, or by staring at you long enough until you followed her into her glass office like a hypnotized puppy. And yet, here he was, with a rose emoji sitting in his notifications. Before he could overthink it, a familiar voice rang out. |
