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sexyteeola:
What’s your Facebook page

I'm surprised you are asking this oo. There is no episode that I didn't mention my Facebook page name (Frank The Writer)

The reply button is now working again
But I think it will still disappear if I try posting another episode.

I'll try and see first.

sexyteeola:
Admin what is happening nah? We need Post 28 and 29 nah

Yesterday, I reposted 28. I was going to post 29, and boom I couldn't post again.

If at the end it didn't work out, I'm sorry, y'all might check out my page.

SeyiJay:
Admin should be kind enough to give reasons why the writer's last two posts - episodes 28 & 29 - are not displayed, as he claimed to have posted. Biko!

Let me see if it's going to work out again.
But if after replying your comment and then I find out I can't post again, then you all should check it out on my Facebook page. Episode 28, 29 and 30 is out already.

hotswagg12:
Divepen1 your attention is needed urgently. @frankwriter post keep wiping off after posts.

Thanks, bro.

I couldn't post anything yesterday.

hotswagg12:
pls you have to repost the episode 28 and not include the Facebook link since its already at the other chapters and let's see if it will stay. Thanks

Okay, bro.
Thank you.


Let me repost it. Then I'll post 29 too

hotswagg12:
OK cause I saw your update was removed.

True bro.
I just noticed.


What could be the reason?

I can't see episode 28 anymore.
I have posted episode 29 via my Facebook page.

I don't know if 29 will be removed too

Asek1:
Fabulous!
Happy nu month Frankie and to every other follower of this wonderful piece

Happy new month bro, and to everyone following this story of mine.
Best of August!!

Caseywilliams:
Divepen1 please lift the ban on Frankwriter



you mean say dem Ban chairmo?
What Apc cannot do does not exist

I didn't notice any ban bro.
I'm supposed to post a new episode today or tomorrow.

hotswagg12:
Divepen1 please lift the ban on Frankwriter.

I don't think I got banned, bro.

preshman22:
This story is just too good
I think your story will be nominated for next year's Grammy award

Lol...

Episode 27 ��

Written by Frank The Writer

❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌

~Femi's POV~

“Lie on your back on the bed” she commanded, and I was more than willing to comply. She sorted over the bed and moved on her knees toward me until she was next to my head. Then she lifted one of her legs over my head so that she was straddling me. I couldn’t see her face as it was blocked by her bulging tummy. She slowly lowered herself down upon my face until her p*ssy lips were pressed against my lips.

Biola was moaning louder and louder with each touch from my flesh.
I hooked one finger inside her p*ssy and was massaging her center of gravity as I sucked on her clit. This pushed her over the edge quickly, and she gushed her orgasmic secretions.
She was riding my face for all she was worth as I was now plunging two fingers in and out of her as I licked her clit. She had her hands on the top of the headboard as she bounced up and down in rhythm with the movements of my fingers.
After about 10 minutes she came again. I grabbed her ass, and thrust my hips upward, driving deep inside of her with the first plunge. She was so lubricated that my d!ck slid in with ease as Biola threw her head back in ecstasy.

I was bucking my hips upward as I held her ass cheeks in my hands, bouncing them up and down on my d!ck. Biola leaned forward so that her clit was rubbing against my pubic mound with each thrust. In that position, I was able to arch my head forward and lick her nipples with the tip of my tongue. She was resting her hands on my shoulders and was now pistoling her hips back and forth to meet the thrust of my d!ck

She was screaming and rolling her head from side to side when she shuddered in another orgasm. She was breathing heavily and could barely move. She hadn’t exerted herself like this in quite some time, and she was becoming tired.
The problem for me was that I still hadn’t cum. I slid out from under her and moved around so that I was behind her now.

She could rest on her elbows and knees as I drilled her from behind. I grabbed her hips in each hand and rammed my d!ck home, hearing the slap of my skin against her ass as my pelvis pounded her from behind. I gave her a little spank as I began rocking her faster and faster. Each time I spank her ass, she gave out a little cry but turned to look at me with a sly look on her face.

I kept pounding her and pounding her, the bed shaking, the headboard slapping against the wall until I could feel my balls tightening and my d!ck swelling to greater proportions until I unleashed a torrent of my liquid lava into her baby canal. I pulled out of her sloppy, wet, p*ssy, and collapsed next to her on the bed.
I had never been so turned on before in my life. The fact that she was pregnant made me so Hot was even more astounding. Needless to say, that was the best sex I had with Biola.

I lay tiredly on the bed while she stood up and cleaned up the bed. The bedsheet was messed up. Biola replaced it with another one. I could feel she was satisfied.
“I'm very hungry,” I announced.
“I know. Let me warm the yam. I’m sure it’s cold now,” she replied, and headed to the kitchen and turned on the gas. Biola soon dashed out with two plates of yam porridge. We were silently eating fur food when someone knocked at the door. I turned to Biola, our eyes met each other but she didn’t say anything.


~ Biola's POV ~

I noticed Femi's countenance suddenly changed the moment he heard the knock. He looked in my direction and reached for his top and wore it
“Who's there?” I dropped my plate of yam and headed towards the door.
“Madam, open the door,” the voice that came through the door. It was obvious it was Kemi's voice. You still remember Kemi right? The only friend of mine who had been checking up on me from day one.

“Babe, you didn’t go to church today?” I asked when I opened the door.
“Why won’t I? Do I look like a pagan like you?” she said jokingly with a half smile. She looked up, and sighted Femi, their eyes locked in contact. Femi was busy devouring the yam porridge but they exchanged pleasantries when Kemi walked closer.
“Is this your brother? You didn’t tell me you have such a cute brother,” Kemi said and sat on the plastic chair.

Femi looked at her, then turned in my direction, and we laughed. There was no need to tell Kemi whom Femi was to me, so I let her go with her assumption that Femi was my brother. I got back to my plate of food and invited her to join me but she politely rejected. Kemi and I got talking about school stuff.


~ Femi's POV ~

The presence of Kemi somehow kept me uncomfortable. She got talking with Biola and I could easily tell she was a talkative. I simply do not like people who talk too much. Sometimes they tend to say things they weren’t meant to say, and that was exactly what Kemi had been doing. So many irrelevant things and it did irk me. If only I could tell her to shut up.

But instead i got busier with my phone after eating the yam porridge. I heaved a big sigh of relief when Kemi eventually left around 1 pm. Biola said she would have stayed longer if I weren’t around. I was telling her how a talkative her friend was when my phone rang. I glanced through the screen and felt my heart sink when I saw it was my father calling.

I quickly gestured at Biola to stay calm.
“Who?” she whispered.
“My Daddy,” I replied.
“Hello, sir. Ekeaso—good afternoon,” I greeted when I finally swiped right. I put the phone on the loudspeaker.
“Femi, how are you? How’s school?”
“Fine sir.”
“Hope you went to church today?”
“Ye—yes,” I lied.
Biola smiled sheepishly.
“Are you sure?”

“Yes, daddy.” My conscience pricked me and I felt bad.
“I just thought of hearing from you.”
“Okay, daddy. How’s everyone at home?”
“Everyone is fine. Stay away from trouble and make sure you always pray.”
“Yes, daddy.”
“Jesus loves you.” He added and ended the call.

“Omo pastor” (pastor's child) Biola taunted and laughed. I was mute. I felt guilty for telling lies to cover my sins.


~ Biola's POV ~

Femi and I spent Sunday together, chatting and having good moments. We watched some movies on his phone too. It then occurred to me how much I have missed him. I don’t really know, but there is something about Femi that makes me happy.

Amid our conversation, Femi asked if I could marry him. I couldn't hold my laughter which I knew made him feel a bit sad.
“What's funny?” he said.
“Femi, I don’t think that will be possible.”
“Why do you think so?”
“You still have some years ahead of you, and you will still come across lots of girls on camous. Moreover, you need to put your life together. That’s the most important thing in the life of a man.”

“Put myself together? Bawo? How?”
“You should have a source of income before you talk of getting married, besides I’m older than you.”
“Oh! I see. So, does age really matter?”
“Well, age doesn’t really matter. What matters most is the age difference.”
“Um, but…”
“I know exactly what you want to say, our age difference is not much. Yes, but, personally, I wouldn’t marry someone I’m older than.”
“Is there a reason for that?”
“No. No reason. It’s just a choice. C'mon, let’s not talk about this marriage stuff now. We should be talking about how we would train our unborn baby.”

After I said that, Femi became calm. I could tell he was feeling bad already. Though I knew Femi said what he said out of naivety. I’m sure by the time he gets in his late or mid-twenties, he must have found girls better than myself. I bet this emotional attachment he had for me was because I took his virginity. Before he graduates from UI, he must have found one or two people who would love him more, and then he wouldn’t give me any close attention. I never said any of these to him. It was my mere thought.

Later in the evening, Femi wanted us to stroll around. I declined but eventually agreed when he pressured me much. We already had spaghetti for lunch which I prepared.

~ Femi's POV ~

We walked out of the apartment and headed through the tarred road. It was dawn already. Twinkle stars dotted the sky. Hip-hop music blasted from unseen stereo on the streets, and students were here, and there.
Biola started craving suya the moment we passed by one Hausa man who sold suya at a junction.
“You and this your cravings shaa,” I said.
"Maybe we should interchange so you know how this pregnancy of a thing is.” She replied jokingly. We laughed and walked back to the man and bought the one of #500 naira. I had to pay.

I was really having a good time with Biola that I wished we lived in the same environment. I told her —and then she turned, laughed, and said, “So that you’ll be ‘docking’ me every day abi?” She let out a naughty smile. One thing I liked about her was her realness. Biola would say things the way it is without mincing words. And she uses vulgar language a lot. Though I don’t use them but I do admire those stuff. There are things I don’t do / can’t do but I do admire them when other people do them. I hope you won’t judge me. But that was the kind of person I was.

Fast forwarding, I’d like to say that my two-day stay in Ikorodu with Biola was worthwhile. It felt like therapy. I was to leave on the following day being Monday but I wished the weekend lasted forever.

That Sunday night, Biola and I still went on two more rounds after devouring efo soup and eba. The same soup she made the previous day. Biola took me back to the old me that I thought I had forsaken, not knowing I was merely out of temptation. I fell for Biola, but somehow I felt she needed it. Meanwhile, that does not justify the fact that what we did was right. Will God ever forgive me? They said He is always merciful. I hope he won’t run out of mercy on me someday.

Monday morning soon arrived, I arranged my few clothes in my small bag. I promised Biola that I’d send her some money once I receive fund from either my dad or mom.
Biola was emotional when I was leaving and I badly wished we could spend more time together. We embraced each other. She plugged her lips into mine and we tasted each others lips again. I felt like not letting go of her alluring lips.
"Femi, this should not be your first and last time in Ikorodu,” she said.
“I’ll try. You know how serious my school is,” I replied.
I checked my wristwatch, it was 10:23 am.

For the first time, Biola said to me, “I'll miss you.”
“I'll miss you more.” I hung my bag on my shoulder, kissed her forehead, and reached for the door.
“Safe journey, Femi. Don’t forget to call me when you get back to school,” she said, still standing behind the door.
“I’ll call you.”
I jammed the door and left.

To be continued...
©️ Frank The Writer

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Episode 26 ��

Written by: Frank The Writer

❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌


~ Femi's POV ~

After the second round, I was so weak and exhausted. We both lay tiredly on the bed without clothes. Biola came closer and cuddled me, and that was the last thing I remembered before I dozed off in her arms, our bodies clasped on each other.
Around 4 am, I woke up to ease myself, and that was when I wore my shorts and went back to sleep while Biola was still asleep without clothes.

~ Biola's POV ~

The following day was Sunday. I woke up before Femi. Sluggishly, I wore my long gown after using the toilet. I felt so weak from the vigorous exercise with Femi the previous night. I stared in his direction, and he was still asleep. I looked up at the wall clock, it was 7:08 am.

I was supposed to be preparing for church, but ever since I returned to campus with my big tummy, I haven’t been to the church for once and today shouldn’t be different too. I didn’t want people to give me that judging look in the church. Honestly, I didn’t want to be judged. The ones I get daily from going to classes are already enough.

Unlike Femi's family, ours is Catholic. My parents and siblings attended Catholic Church. And we Catholics are good at guilt. That’s why we have confession and mass. So I stayed away from the confessional booth ever since I got pregnant. Imagine me saying, “Father, forgive me. I have sinned. I did this, I did that.”
I’m sure you will understand better if you are a Catholic. I didn’t want to go near church until I put to bed. That was the decision I made for myself.
I picked up my phone and started scrolling through my WhatsApp list. I was literally doing nothing on the App. I viewed a few statuses and read some messages from the various group chat. What are we eating this morning? I had pondered.

Then I dropped my phone on the bed and headed to the kitchen. Inside the cupboard were some of the yams Aunty Bose gave to me. I sliced them into sizeable portions inside a pot. Yam porridge was what I had in mind to prepare. I had already warmed the efo soup and kept it for the night.
When I turned, I saw Femi standing at the kitchen door. He nearly scared me with the way he stood like a ghost. He let out a half smile and I smiled back. I was going to say, “Ekearo" (good morning) but he said it before me. He reminded me of being older than him. And in our culture, it was expected of him to greet me, simply because I’m older than him. Well, that’s by the way.

~ Femi's POV ~

Despite the bulge in her tummy, Biola had never looked this beautiful before. She had that glow that pregnant women sometimes get after the morning sickness has ceased before they get too big to move around with ease.
Another improvement I noticed was that of her breast. It had grown into large C– cups. Biola soon noticed I was staring at the changes in her appearance and blushed with embarrassment and then she said, “Stop staring, I know I’m fat!” We both laughed. I assured her she would become fatter by the day and her hips were extremely bigger than the old Biola I met in Ibadan.

Still standing at the kitchen door, I asked if any chores needed my assistance. She said that if it weren’t too much to bother, she would appreciate it if I could help her dispose the rubbish in the dustbin which was a little bit heavy. I quickly complied and asked where I would dump them. She gave me direction on how to go about it. I wore my top and left. When I returned, Biola asked if I was hungry. “Why not. I’m hungry,” I said and sat down on the bed while she continued with the dishes in the kitchen. And not long, the aroma from the kitchen filled the room. I yawned heavily.

***
She walked out of the kitchen, and we chatted for quite a while. I was finally getting to know Biola more and more as we conversed, and it turned out she was such an amazing soul. I found myself consciously staring her in the face as my gaze continued to drop to her C-cup boobs. Biola asked if I was going to church on campus, and I replied speedily in the positive.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t been going to church?” I turned in her direction.
“Do you expect me to go with this heavy-duty?”
“Why not. Pregnant women go to church. Don’t they?”

Silence.

“You need to start going. You need to be prayerful too.”
“Hmm. Pastor Femi.” She giggled.
“Jokes apart, you need it. The days are evil.”

“Femi, I barely attend lectures during the weeks.”
“It's well. Very soon….”
“Femi how soon? How soon? It hasn’t been easy. I never planned for this. You know my initial plan was to get rid of this pregnancy.”
“Yes, I know, but I’m glad we didn’t do that. It was all God’s plan. Don’t get discouraged.”
“Sometimes I do think of the journey ahead. I still have some months to carry on with this,” she said like she was sobbing. I suddenly felt my heart beating faster. She was making me feel emotional with her words.

Not knowing what else to do, I walked over to her and put my arm around her shoulder, trying to comfort her. She responded by hugging me tightly and sobbing onto my chest. I didn’t know what else to do, so I just stood there holding her in my arms, softly telling her that everything would be fine.

After what seemed like an eternity, Biola finally stopped crying and apologized for being so emotional and fragile. Little things could make her cry. She said her hormones were running wild, and she would go on crying jags whenever she feel down. The bed and the pillow had always been her companion. Biola also said the worst of it all was when she feels Hot and there would be no one to satisfy her cravings.
I was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable talking about these things. She continued by saying that if I eventually go back to Ibadan, she would surely miss me.

She then reached for the plastic chair at the corner of the room and sat. I moved back to the bed and sat down. I looked up and noticed Biola had undone the top couple of buttons of her gown and she started to fan her cleavages. She said she was feeling hot. I couldn’t help but stare and was feeling guilty because the sight of those large breasts halfway exposed was arousing me.

“Femi, you ought to be in the church,” I heard that calm voice again. My heart sank immediately. I was lost in my guilty thoughts when Biola asked “Do you like what you see?” She caught me off guard as I had been transfixed by her boobs. All I could stammer was, “See what,” which made almost no sense at all. She chuckled and said, “Femi, getting bigger boobs is one of the better side effects of pregnancy.”

Biola began talking about the different changes her body was going through due to the pregnancy and eventually the subject of her boobs came up again. She explained that not only did they get bigger, but they became so insensitive that it was uncomfortable to wear bras and clothes. She said she sometimes goes on without clothes since she was living alone. I just couldn’t keep my eyes off her boobs, no matter how hard I tried.
“Femi, please help me turn off the gas, I think the yam is ready,” she announced.

As I got up and walked to the kitchen, I tried to hide the bulge that was growing in my shorts. I turned off the 6kg gas cylinder. I turned from the kitchen to the room, only to find out Biola had taken down her gown from up. She was sitting on the blue plastic chair naked from the waist up. All that effort I had made in the kitchen was wasted as my body quickly made a tent at the front of my shorts.

Biola pretended not to notice as I forced myself to complete the journey back to the bed. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, “they’re just so sensitive today it hurt to wear a bra, and it’s too warm for my blouse.”
“No, I don’t mind,” I said as I tried to look away as I picked up my phone but I constantly gazed at Biola while she fanned herself with a piece of cloth.
The bulge in my shorts had grown from being a tent stake to a full-blown flagpole. I continued to stare at Biola's boobs.

Suddenly, she turned to me, thrust her chest forward, and said “please, massage my breasts for me, they’re so sensitive.”
“On a Sunday morning?”
“And so? Please, just help me. Now that you’re still here.”
I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say.
“I know you want to,” she said, “I can feel your desire.”

She reached over and stroked my d!ck through my shorts. I set my down and began to handle her breasts. I squeezed too tightly at first and Biola let out a gasp.
“Remember, they’re sensitive” she explained, as I lightened my touch and felt her swelled breasts, and watched her nipples harden under my ministrations. “Mmmm,” she moaned as I leaned my head forward and flicked the tip of her nipple with my tongue.
Her hands were working on my shorts, and before I knew it, she had released my cock and was stroking it with both hands. I leaned in closer and took one nipple into my mouth and then the other, oh so gently sucking on them and licking them with my tongue.

“Stand up,” she said.
“Why?” I replied.
“You’ll see,” she said with a wink. So I stood up.

She pulled my shorts down around my knees and grabbed my hips pulling me toward her. My massive member was just inches from her face as she sat on the chair. She cupped my balls with one hand and stroked my shaft with the other. She looked up at me for a moment, smiled, then leaned forward and took me into her mouth with one motion.

She was fantastic! She had just the right amount of saliva to make my d!ck glisten and she slurped on and stroked my rod. She squeezed my balls gently as I cupped her breasts with my hands. She was bobbing her head up and down as I moved my hands from her breasts to the sides of her head, guiding her up and down my shaft.
With her hand on my balls, she could feel them tightening, and at that moment she pulled her mouth from my d!ck. “Not just yet,” she said, “I don’t want you to cum too soon. I need some fulfillment of my own.” “Help me up,” she said as she stretched her hands out to me.

I grabbed onto her hands and helped hoist her from the chair. It was awkward, as she seemed heavier than she looked, and my shorts were still around my ankles preventing me from getting the best leverage. Once she was standing, I pulled up my shorts and followed her to the bed.
“Can you help me out of this gown?” she asked.
“With pleasure” was my response.

I walked over to her and gently pulled down her gown, kissing down from her hip to her thigh, to the back of her knee, and her calf as I pulled the gown free. We stood together, completely nude, her pregnant stomach pressing against me as I kissed her on the mouth, our tongues locked in contact.

To be continued...
©Frank The Writer
_______

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Adesina12:
This is it
This will make Femi focus and be responsible
He now wears the clothe of the married man and should behave as such henceforth
This is expected of him and he shouldn't deny his lover the real merriments of their union
He shouldn't leave Biola environs henceforth but should be focus on his study
Thank you for this piece
Sweet popcorn for you

Lol... Thanks for your long comment

Episode 25 ��

Written by: Frank The Writer

❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌

~ Femi's POV~

I stood still inside the bathroom while water dripped on my body. It was hard to decide whether to ignore her or accept her request. I somehow felt she wanted to use this cravings stuff on me to get her sexual healing. Like I have never read or heard about pregnant women craving bathroom sex and all that stuff.
“I’m sorry, I can’t let you in. Please, just wait outside. I’m almost done,” I said. She said something inaudibly. I didn’t hear what she uttered.

Absentmindedly, I continued bathing and was done after a few minutes.
I hurriedly out of the bathroom. Biola was standing there motionless. She wore a light long gown. I looked her deep in the eyes with a smile—and said, “Well, you just shocked the hell out of me. I don’t even know what we will be doing inside there.” Biola was mute. She only stared back at me. All I could see in her eyes were disappointment and sadness.

I reached the corner where I had kept my bag, I brought a short and wore it while removing the towel from my waist. She was just staring at me. I knew there were thousands of words behind that stare but she didn’t know how possible best to make me understand.

“I thought I told you I’m a changed person. We can’t continue this old life anymore.”
“So you can’t do it for the sake of our baby too?”
“Do we still need to do it now that you’re pregnant? I thought it’s…”
“Femi, stop. There is nothing wrong with a pregnant woman having sex. Don’t tell me you’re this local and unexposed?” she let out a smile.
I somehow felt embarrassed by what she said but then I tried to cover up by faking a smile.

“I'm already pregnant. So what’s there to be scared of again? Let’s just finish what we started. I need it badly,” she continued.
“Can’t you understand that I don’t want to do this anymore?”
“So why did you come in the first place? Do you think you’d come and just go like that? It’s part of the reason I wanted you to come naa,” she said with a pitying look.
“No. I didn’t come for this. I came to see you and know how you have been doing. You know it’s been months now.”

“Are you not surprised I’m begging you for this? Do you want me to go after these guys in school?"
I busted into laughter. That really cracked me up with the way she said it in Yoruba.
“Of course, no student would want to have sex with you knowing you’re pregnant.”
"You think so?"
"I know so."


I suddenly felt the urge to pee. So I went into the bathroom to use the WC. Just when I entered, Biola came in immediately. I was shocked at how desperately she wanted this. I would have locked the door if I knew she would join me. “Let me! Let me!” she said in Yoruba. She was standing tightly behind me and put her arm around me and grabbed my semi-hard pen!s in her hand. “I want to hold it “I want to hold it and see if I can aim it,” she said, salivating.
At this point, I was helpless and couldn’t stop Biola.

To aim with a flaccid d!ck is easy, but that changed in about three seconds flat. My d!ck jumped from soft to hard, faster than I can imagine. To make things worse, she slowly started pulling my foreskin to reveal my purple head. I was amazed at how quickly I responded to her fun game and how fast my d!ck became hard and pulsating. Maybe this was some hidden fantasy that came to the surface.

Every man will understand that it’s never easy to pee while you have a full-blown hard-on. So I stood there with my d!ck in Biola's hand and nothing was happening. I was breathing faster. She looked into my eyes and I could feel she was having fun with what she was doing.

“Pee your pee naa,” she said, holding my d!ck. Still, nothing came out. I was fully hard and it was impossible to pee in such a condition. “You can do it,” she added, letting out a naughty smile. She was really enjoying this and instead of allowing me to do my business and leave the bathroom, she slowly opened and closed my foreskin over my pulsating head. It really made things worse, although it felt so good.

“You're making it really hard for me,” I finally broke the short silence.
“No. I’m actually making it hard for myself.” She laughed—a very naughty one.
I wished I could stop her from all of these, but she already succeeded in turning me on and I was halfway to pre-cum. My d!ck was still bobbing with every beat of my heart. We waited and waited—and finally, I felt that tingling feeling when pee is about to start, and then she held my d!ck and watched me pee in the closet. Could this also be part of the cravings? I had pondered.

I finished a very pleasurable pee and thought that was the end of the game, but Biola was not done with me yet. She was still holding my d!ck which was still in a full state of arousal. She flushed the closet, and this time, she moved with her fingers. She slowly rub over the head of my d!ck, using her thumb to rub around the rim that was now super sensitive.
The head of my d!ck was swollen, clean, and craving more attention. I was groaning and likewise Biola. It was evident that this was turning her on big time.


She took my face in her hands and kissed my forehead. She hugged me; she hugged me so tight that I could feel her big boobs pressing on my chest. Suddenly I started feeling hot. I started moving my hand on her back, but she didn’t react.
Her body was producing a lot of heat which was making me hornier and hornier. I brought my face close to her shoulder and kept my lips near her neck. Wow, that taste was amazing. I couldn’t control myself. She pulled my shorts and quickly undressed, revealing her big belly. She turned on the shower and it started dripping on us. Biola seemed to be having her best time with me as she drew me closer and kissed my lips.
“What we are you doing?”


~ Biola's POV~

I didn’t listen to him and started kissing his face. He was trying to push me away. But I held his face so hard that it couldn’t move away from me. He wanted to say something again. But I locked my lips on his lips and didn’t give him any chance to speak.
Slowly his resistance was going away, but still, he sometimes tried to move away. But then he started to answer my kisses by moving his lips. We were sucking the lips of each other. After about 5 minutes, I broke the kiss. He looked into my eyes and said, “Do you want to eat me up?” He smiled.
We started kissing again. I took his hand to gently massage my belly. The shower made it look like we were under rain and it took me back down the memory of when we were still younger— playing in the rain.


~Femi’s POV~

I was being careful enough so we don’t get to slip off and fall. My hands were all over her body. I have given in to satisfy her as she wanted. I was kissing her boobs which were dangling. I noticed it had grown bigger. “Suck my nips,” she said. I started to suck her left nipple while pressing the other with my right hand. She was moaning now. I kept sucking her brown round nipples one after the other until they became very tight.

Then, she started pushing my head down while she groaned. I didn’t know what she wanted me to do. Her legs were vibrating. “Let's use the bed,” she said and turned off the tap. She was the first to step out of the bathroom while I followed behind. My d!ck was still hard. Biola dragged me to the bed without us cleaning our bodies, and we kissed again.
Now, she lay on her back on the bed while I was halfway through her body. Again, she began to push my head downward.
“What do you want?” I asked. She pushed my head again without uttering a word. “I need you down here,” she kept my face close to her p*ssy. I felt my heart beating faster.
“Just lick me up please, I’ll enjoy it,” she added.

Reluctantly, I opened her legs wider to see her p*ssy. It was wet with no hair. I think she just shaved it recently. I opened her p*ssy lips and started kissing and sucking them. She was getting crazy and moaning loudly. She pressed my head on her p*ssy, and her legs started shaking. But I removed my lips as I never tasted it and didn’t like to taste. She said, “Please keep doing it. Don’t stop, please. Instead, I put my finger in her p*ssy and started finger f*cking her. She came within 2 minutes. Her breath was very fast, and her eyes were closed.

I got up, went to the kitchen, drank some water, and offered her a cup as well. Then we started hugging, kissing, and sucking again. She saw my d*ck and started smiling. She said, “This d!ck will make me crazy. It is very hard and strong.”

I brought my dick close to her face, but she said, “I never took a dick in my mouth. I don’t like it.” I requested her to do it once. Then she just kissed the top on it and said, “Come on, make me yours now.” I went down, opened her legs, and set my dick on her p*ssy lips.

She held my shoulders and said, “Please do it slowly. I have not taken a dick for long.” I forced a little, and my half dick went it. She screamed and stopped me. She said, “Don’t move, please. It’s paining.” I waited for some more time and pushed again. But she moved and said, "take it slowly."
I said, “OK, don’t worry. I’ll not hurt you.” I started kissing her lips. I felt that she was getting very crazy about my lip-locking. I just moved a little back and gave her a hard stroke with my full power.

“Aaaah!” was her word at that time and I felt her almost crying. She asked me to take it out. But I didn’t listen to her and started f*ckng her slowly. After 2 minutes, she started moving down. She said, “Come on, do it now, f*ck me hard, Femi make my baby feel you."

Then I started giving her hard strokes. Our thighs were slapping each other, making noise of ‘thap thap thap.' We didn’t care about anyone because the apartment was noisy.

After almost 5 minutes, I said, “Come on top.” She sat on me, took d!ck in her p*ssy, and started riding it. Ufff, that was the best part of the night. She was taking my d*ck in and out of her p*ssy. Her big boobs were jumping around, clapping for us. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were opened. She was groaning.
This moment made me crazy. I started pushing from down also. We were both f*cking very wildly. I saw her face opening wider, and she started moving faster. I understood and started to thrust her with full power. We both came together. I wanted to pull out but she closed her legs and gave me one kind look.
I ended up dropping every single drop of my cum in her p*ssy. She fell on me with a very heavy breath. We both kept lying for some more minutes, and then we had one more session after that.


To be continued...
©Frank The Writer

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Episode 24 ��

Written by: Frank The Writer

❌Do Not Copy or Repost ❌


Fair warning: ⚠️ This episode is long but not too long. Additionally, it's rated 18+. Thank you.

***

My trip from Ibadan to Lagos was a successful one. I arrived in Lagos somewhere between 2 to 3 pm. I can’t really tell the exact time. And it happened to be my first time coming to Eko— Lagos. Yeah! All my life have been revolving around Ibadan and Ondo. I didn’t tell any of my family members about my trip to Lagos. Neither my mom nor my father would agree if I ever informed them I was going to see Biola.

Just like Biola had directed, I got on a bus when I arrived at Ojota. The distinct yellow ‘danfo’ bus which is peculiar to Lagos State. I held my small black bag firmly, to avoid stories that touches the heart. I was dressed simply in a black shirt and plain trousers.

Sitting down on the danfo bus, sweating profusely, I began to have random thoughts: “What if something bad had happened to me on my way to Lagos? What if this, what if that?” They were all negative thoughts. But I tried to shove them off my head by scrolling through my phone. Then my phone rang. I glanced through it and noticed it was Biola calling.

“Hello..”
“Femi, where are you now?”
“I'm on the bus already.”
“Okay. Please, be careful. This is Lagos.”
“No problem,” I smiled.
“Don’t dull yourself oo,” she added in Yoruba.
“Don't worry, I’ll be fine.”

I sat at the extreme side is the bus, just to see things for myself. Cars and trucks swooshed past, but we were stuck at one point. I have always heard that Lagos and traffic are like bread and butter. Between the incredible heat, the smell in the danfo, and the noise—both inside and outside the bus—I would be very happy if I get to Ikorodu in one piece.

Finally, the bus began to move approximately 150 cm and then back to standstill traffic again. When the driver switched off the engine, I felt my heart sink into that special zone of despair reserved for a 'JJC' in Lagos, on the brink of missing my way or perhaps arriving at my destination late in the night.

Then an argument ensued between the conductor and a passenger who wanted to know why the driver had followed a different route only to find out the road was also blocked.
Their disagreement took two left turns, crossed a bridge, climbed a hill, and somehow ended up with both the conductor and passenger screaming at each other. The duo became a source of joyful entertainment for the rest of the passengers as loud laughter rocked the bus while they insulted each other in what seemed like ‘Lagos Yoruba' not the kind of Yoruba we speak in Ibadan and Ondo. One of the passengers farted while she was laughing out loud and that got everyone laughing so hard. I must say, I was so entertained by these Lagos people.

Eventually, the traffic started to move and we finally arrived at the bus stop. I glanced at my timepiece, it was 4:12 pm.
When I alighted from the bus, the two men were still heartily calling down evil and chicken pox on each other’s presumably innocent parents. I bet the conductor got Master's Degree in abusive words. The dude was so brutal with his choice of words in Yoruba. I heard words I never heard before.

***

I looked round to see the bustling here and there. Lagos, a paradise for Nigerian hustlers. The city where everything is for sale, the city that never sleeps. They said every race and religion, every tribe and language are in Lagos, and I couldn’t believe less.

As of then, Okada riders were rampant, I found one and told him where I was heading to—and instantly I hopped onto his bike without negotiating—a very big mistake I made. We got to Laspotech minutes later, and I was unable to argue with the opportunist okada rider ( a young Yoruba boy with two rolls of tribal mark on his cheeks) who charged me a thousand naira for about eight minutes drive. I was mad at him and mad at myself for not negotiating in the first place.
I had no option but to pay the greedy fellow. I walked out angrily. I walked to a spot and took out my phone from my pocket to call Biola. She answered and said she was on her way coming out. I heaved a sigh of relief on hearing that.

About seven minutes later, I looked up and sighted her coming with her protruded belly. My heart suddenly sank on sighting Biola. She had changed from the last time we met. That was a few months ago when I was still in Ibadan. I walked in her direction and I could see smile wreathed on her face. Her smile was so infectious that I couldn’t hold mine. I smiled back.

Biola and I finally embraced each other when I got to where she stood. I could feel her heartbeat and warm body. I felt so emotional. I had a wave of old memories rushing through my head. I have really missed her and it was obvious. But Biola wasn’t so comfortable embracing me in the public. She was quick to discharge herself and I understood that perfectly. She was still shy and nervous as a pregnant student.

“Femi, longest time,” she said in Yoruba.
“Yeah. Been months now. How’s it going?”
“Um, you have seen me naa..”
“Yes. And you ain’t looking bad.”
“Don’t say that again oo,” she turned and looked me in the eyes.

We were both walking together. She lead the way while I followed.

“Omo University,” Biola teased. She meant University Boy.
I just giggled and said nothing.
“How's UI treating you?” she added.
“UI is not for the feeble. Always choking us with unending assignments and loads of work.”
“I thought as much. It’s written all over you.”
“Oh! Really? How do you mean?”
“Your neck is longer now,” she laughed.

Biola and I got talking as she lead the way to her lodge located around Success Garden, Agbowa, Ikorodu. She told me it hasn’t been easy with her if not for my mom’s steady support. She said sometimes she had cravings for things she can’t afford. I really felt for her as she shared her pregnancy story. When she was done, I told her about my experience with the bike man and she told me I gotta learn the distinction between being smart and being street smart.


~ Biola's POV ~

I felt so relieved seeing Femi again. There was this feeling of joy in my stomach. I had long craved his presence and I could feel my baby kicking but I didn’t understand what that meant. Yet I didn’t tell Femi exactly how I felt. I felt there was no need to tell him how I feel about his presence.
I had finally gathered enough nerve to put the wheels of my plan in motion and now that Femi came through for me, my happiness knew no bounds. Femi presented himself as an eagerly submissive male from the very onset. Our bond is a perfect example of how two opposites attract.

~ Femi's POV~

We got to Biola's apartment; a single-room apartment with a toilet and kitchen. I walked quickly to the door with her following and then she stopped a meter from the door to allow me to do the gentlemanly thing. I opened the door and we went in. I looked up at the wall, and my eyes caught the multicolored wall clock on the wall; it was 5:00 pm.

Biola’s room was neatly arranged and decorated with some nice artwork. One was a frame of an African woman with C cup breast, a narrow waist, and a gigantic backside. There was another beautiful frame of Pablo Escoba which hung on the wall. I later learned she got it from her ex-boyfriend.

I dropped my small bag at a corner where she kept some of her clothes. Silence stood between us for some seconds before she asked if I had eaten.
“I'm very hungry. Did you cook anything?” I asked. She replied in the negative.


~ Biola's POV ~

When Femi said he was feeling hungry, I made tea and bread for him to cool off before I headed to the kitchen to prepare food. I already bought the foodstuffs for Efo soup before his arrival.
While I was in the kitchen, Femi lay on the bed on his back as he got busy with his phone.

A moment later, I came out to meet Femi already fast asleep. The soup was ready but hot water for eba was still on fire.
Seeing the way he lay on the bed, I had several crazy thoughts in my head. I craved to lie on top of him as I watched his belly as it rose and fall back while he breathed.
When finally I made the food was ready, I dished out the soup and eba on a stainless plate. “Femi,” I tapped him, but he didn’t respond. I tapped him on the shoulders the second time before he sluggishly rose from bed—yawning and stretching his arms.


~ Femi's POV ~

I was woken up by Biola to feast on eba and efo soup. It was dawn already. The light from the moon flickered through the window. I heaved a sigh of relief while Biola stood and stared at me. I pondered what could be going on in her mind. “Let's eat together,” I said. She joined me and sat on the bed which served as a chair while the food was on the tiled floor. It felt like we were a newly married couple experiencing marriage life and expecting a child soon. Yeah, that was exactly the way I felt as Biola and I ate from the same plate. She would constantly gaze at me and then continue eating. I didn’t understand that gesture. I simply smiled.

By the time we were done eating, I told Biola I needed to take my shower—and she showed me the bathroom. I reached for the corner where she left her clothes, unbuttoned my shirt, and also pulled my trouser. I was just on my boxers. I quickly unzipped my bag and brought out my white towel. I went inside the bathroom and bolted the door. My phone served as a source of illumination. I turned the tap and was glad the shower was working. So I quickly pulled out my boxers and began to have a cool bath.

About three minutes later, it seemed I heard a knock at the door. I kept quiet to be sure I was right. Then the knock became obvious.

“Biola, is that you?”
“Yes. Please, open the door,” she busted.
I was puzzled by her demand.
“I'm not through yet. Do you want to take something?”
“No. I’m not taking anything,” she stuttered.
“Okay, so…”
“I want us to bath together, please,” she said.

I felt a lump in my throat. I was bewildered to hear Biola make such a ridiculous request.

“Femi, please, I have long craved for this. Don’t say no,” she said and paused.
It became obvious Biola wasn’t joking. I was awestruck. I didn’t want to do any of these with Biola. One voice was telling me to ignore her while another voice was countering it, saying, it’s part of pregnancy cravings. I was mute and didn’t know what to tell her.

“Femi, I know we haven’t done this before, but please, for the sake of my pregnancy, let me in,” she continued.
“Femi, this is a temptation, don’t open the door,” — a voice that rushed through my head.
Water dripped on my body while I contemplated my next line of action. It seemed I was helpless. Lots of imagination and pictures already clouded my head.

To be continued...
© Frank The Writer
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Episode 24 will be out later today.
I have been busy lately.

pearlbest:
Nice one sir........ I finally caught up with the story

Congrats....
Lol

Episode 23 ��

Written by: Frank The Writer

❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌

~ Femi's POV

The thought of knowing that the University of Ibadan was a very competitive school always sent a chill pill down my spine as I awaited the admission list. Even though my Jamb score was high, I was uncertain of what it would turn out to be. The course of study I chose was also competitive.

That very day, I sat relaxed on the couch in the sitting room. My phone was in my left hand as I scrolled through my newsfeed on Facebook. Then came Shola’s voice from the bedroom. “Femi, UI admission list is finally out. Hope you are aware?” She said and dashed out of the bedroom with a half smile. “How did you know? Are you sure of what you just said? Please, don’t joke with me.” I turned in her direction.

Shola and I have been very close right from childhood, and oftentimes we do prank each other and play other expensive jokes too. “No. I’m not joking. Why would I joke about such a thing?” she looked me in the eyes, and then I could tell she wasn’t joking. “Why not check their website and see for yourself,” she said, letting out a smile. My heartbeat suddenly went faster. It seemed like unusual electrification went through my veins as I stopped what I was doing with my phone and quickly clicked on my browser.

Subconsciously, I was sweating. Deep down, I prayed to be among the chosen ones, just as if my prayer could have changed anything then. Since I already had my jamb reg number copied to my clipboard, it was very easy to paste it on the box wherein my Jamb reg number was to be typed. Shola was watching from behind as she stood behind me.

“Femi, your hand is shaking,” she teased me.

“You won’t understand,” I replied with a half smile.

She simply chuckled and had her eyes glued to my phone.

The University of Ibadan had been my dream school when I was much younger. It was a childhood dream to end up as a student at the prestigious university. I can’t really tell why but I grew up to fancy the school based on numerous positivity that emerges from there. Their students are quite intelligent; both academically and morally. I knew so many people who desired to be there but eventually didn’t reach the cut-off mark. Some ended up in Polytechnics, others opted for other universities the following year.

The network seemed so bad as the browser loaded very slowly. I just couldn’t wait to know my fate. I quickly turned off the data and turned it on again in a second. In the blink of an eye, I was wowed to see an offer of provisional admission to study Mechanical Engineering; my dream course. I screamed joyfully while embracing Shola that we almost fell flat on the floor, but the couch in the living room saved us. I was overwhelmed; my heart leaped up for joy. I felt a surge of happiness. That was one happy moment of my life.
"Finally, I will be leaving this house for you all,” I said jocularly. Shola busted into laughter.

When mom returned, I told her and she was happy about it. She congratulated me while she seized the opportunity to advise me to be prepared for the challenges ahead. My father was glad when I told him I made the merit list. For the first time in a long time, he was proud of Femi. I guess I was the happiest person on earth.

***

Weeks later, it was finally time to move out of Ondo to Ibadan where my journey as an undergraduate would set in. I received tons of advice from my father: “Femi, don’t forget where you are coming from. Femi, don’t do this, don’t do that.” I responded positively to everything he said. Well, I was already a changed person; my mind was made up to turn a new leaf after the encounter with pastor Ben. I decided I was going to live right as soon as I step my feet in UI.

My mom was like, “Femi, don’t allow anybody to pressure you. Be contented with what you have.” I was just nodding my head like an agama lizard. I was going to miss them all and it was quite an emotional moment for me. Bidemi was equally around. She was back from school for the long break. I would miss her too. I told them I would miss them and they were honest to admit they would miss me too. Shola teased about coming with me so she would be cooking for me. Everyone busted into laughter. Indirectly, she made jest of me for not knowing how to prepare meals.

My black echolac bag was filled with my clothes. The other two bags contained my foodstuff and other home appliances and accessories I’d be needing in school. It was on a Saturday morning, and I was to go with my father in his car.

~ Biola's POV ~

Three months of pregnancy and all I can say is, that it hasn’t been an easy ride. Yet, I was keeping up by the day. I thank God for Femi's mom who was steadily checking up on me. She was there like a mother to me. She was the person who informed me about Femi's admission status. Femi didn’t call me again after the very day I ended the call on him. I realized I was being harsh on him, but that was how I felt then. He truly didn’t deserve any form of rejection from me because we were in that mess together. Maybe I was tensed up because I was the one carrying the load.

After some days, I decided to call Femi. At least to congratulate him on his new feat. He was surprised I called, and at the same time, he was happy to hear my voice. It seemed there was something about him that I can’t get off my chest. I still liked Femi and I missed him too. Yes, I do. Femi and I got talking on the phone, and he told me he had changed from the old Femi I used to know. We laughed over it while he added that he changed from being nonchalant to being a very ambitious guy. He also talked about his challenges as a fresher. He confessed it hasn’t been an easy task. The call lasted for ten minutes and I was glad we got talking again.


~ Femi's POV ~

As a new student of the University of Ibadan, I guess I was the newest ‘Jonny Just Come' on campus. The school environment was new to me and there were so many things I needed to adapt to.

I wasn’t staying off campus. My father wanted me to live in the school hostel. He believed that would curb my possibility of living a wayward life on campus. Living in a school hostel wasn’t actually what I wanted, but that was my father's decision for me. Nevertheless, living with people I barely knew in a room was something that really bothered me. But since we weren’t more than four in our room. I believed I would cope, I consoled myself. Although the room looked congested, I had to manage.

The University of Ibadan is also a very big school with a serene school environment for study. They have good infrastructures and good lecturers too. Though some people believed that the school is boring but I don’t agree. It’s generally up to you if you want to be bored.

I met lots of people and faces I barely knew would turn out to be my friends and coursemates. But just like my father had advised, I was conscious of the kind of people I relate with. Well, I’m definitely going to bore you if I begin to narrate in detail every single thing that happened in UI. So I’m just going to be brief enough.

One of the challenges I faced was stretching my intellectual prowess. I have never read in my life the way I read in UI just so I could meet up. I had to learn to strategize, learn smartly, discuss with a few coursemates, and collected lecture slides from people too. I was told they don’t set simple questions. On average, I can say a typical UI student is a bookworm. The majority of them are bibliophiles.
My early life at UI was kinda boring because I avoided night parties and all sorts of social gatherings that were held at night.

***

One fateful Friday, Biola called me on phone. She didn’t mince words before telling me why she called. She wanted me to pay her a school visit. She was literally craving my presence. I could feel her loneliness in her voice and it melted my heart. It was her first pregnancy and I felt she must be going through a lot.

Me: I will come around whenever I feel we have lesser lectures ahead.

Biola: That will be in a very long time.

Silence.

Me: Um, I don’t know yet but I’ll try.

Biola: Anyhow shaa. Just try and come.

Me: Okay. I’ll.

(Call ended).

From the look of things and how Biola sounded, I knew she must be missing me badly. I couldn’t feel well when I dropped the call. She could be facing some challenges, I had pondered. Throughout the night of that day, I didn’t sleep well. All my thoughts were centered on Biola. I had to call her on phone the following day being Saturday.

“Can you text me a proper direction? I’ll be coming today,” I said when she picked up the call. I could feel she was elated to hear I was coming to see her.
"Wow! Today?”
“Yes, today.”
“Okay. I’ll send it as a text message,” she excitedly responded and hung up immediately.

Ibadan to Lagos is about two hours plus trip. So even if I decided to leave Ibadan later in the day, I’d still meet up, but because of security reasons, I left around noon, having informed two of my roommates, Kunle and Ifeoluwa.

To be continued...
© Frank The Writer

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Fmghewzy:
Reading this ,sort of .....
Made me feel somehow.

Maybe because my name is Femi.
Lol.


Good job op

Lmao..... Thank you Femooo

Semako36:
Well done OP
I feel for Biola alot.
Femi's father should try and be a little lenient

Lol.. He's a pastor

Episode 22 �

Written by: Frank The Writer

❌Do Not Copy or Repost❌


~ Biola's POV ~

I was finally leaving Ibadan for Lagos and I could tell there was some sort of relief it gave Aunty Bose. Before then, I went to see my brother, Gbenga.
Despite the fact he was disappointed in me, he still encouraged me and gave me some money.
Did I forget to tell you how much Femi's mother later sent to me? Forgive me. She sent a whooping 40k naira to my account after she talked to me that day. I couldn’t hold my joy. I called her and thanked her for being so kind and caring. With her support, I was able to get some stuff from the market. I’m sure you’d be wondering if my brother's wife (Bose) gave me any money? Well, I wouldn’t like to label her a bad person. She gave me foodstuffs and I could tell that was what she could afford. Besides, she had her son and Aramide to take care of. It was obvious she had many mouths to feed from the little earned.

***
Fast forwarding, I got back to Lagos Sunday evening. The school environment as usual bubbled with students here and there. Loud music from unseen stereos and stuff like that. Of course, my outlook already changed. Though my belly wasn’t that big and noticeable, someone could still tell I was pregnant by merely looking at my face.
One of my fear was being judged by lecturers, my coursemates, and friends. And the last thing I wanted was for it to affect any of my classes—and I didn’t want to have any kind of judgment on me. Truth is, I wasn’t the kind of girl everyone expected to get pregnant in school. I wasn’t religious either, but I had this kind of ‘ambitious girl attitude' on campus. I’m sure you know what I mean. Yes, the type that was always attending seminars and all kinds of self-development programs.
That’s by the way. Well, I’m not going to go into details to bore you with every single thing that happened when I got back to school. I’m only going to share a few vital ones.

Back to classes, I told a few good friends. I trusted them and knew they would support me like Femi's mother. I was wrong. Soon after telling my ‘friends,” I found out that some of them suddenly stopped speaking to me. I bet they weren’t able to deal with the fact they knew I was pregnant. And I was chastised for being immoral for having premarital sex and for deciding to carry my pregnancy.

Well, somehow, I felt lonely. It was a very challenging time. A lot of people that you thought would be there for you, won’t. It was surprising because I had a few friends, but there seem to be nobody I could relate to except Seyi and Kemisola. Both were the ones who didn’t disappear completely. Then I remembered a quote I once heard on a radio station, and it went thus, “Before sex, you help each other to get naked and after sex, you only dress yourself. Moral of the story: In life, no one helps you when you’re ‘f*cked’.
I was emotionally drained. I knew I needed a shoulder to lean on but there was no one around me. I attended lectures about two-three times a week. My only hope was that I’d be free after exams.

~ Femi's POV~

Biola went back to school and yet she didn’t want to talk to me nor changed her mind and answer my calls. It bothered me why she was keeping malice with me. I soon realized she was always talking to my mom over the phone. So one day I tried calling her with my mom's phone. She picked up as soon it rang. Biola went mute the moment she heard my voice.

“Biola, what have I done to deserve this long silence from you? Did I offend you in any way?”

Silence.

“You keep ignoring my calls and texts,” I continued.

“Femi what else do you want us to chat about? I’m not in the mood for all these conversations. My mental health is paramount to me, please,” she said and paused.

“Yes, I know we don’t have much to talk about. Hearing your voice is enough. I still care. I really do. It’s only my father who has been taking the whole thing too far,” I added.

“Thank God you know he’s been overdoing things. Your father literally talked to me like I was a prostitute. There was nothing he didn’t say to me,” she lamented.

“I thought as much. And I’m sure that’s the reason you have been avoiding me. You wouldn’t believe what I went through in his hands.”

“Femi, whatever. I’ll be fine,” she hanged up speedily.

***

Well, I reserved my hatred for my father. For the being whose blood flows in my veins. He thought himself above mistakes and seemed like he was the most righteous man on earth. Whenever I talk to my father, I end up frustrated. My father and I began to have issues in our father/ son relationship. He messes with my mental health whenever I talked to him.
I honestly didn’t know how to stop getting so worked up over it. It’s usually him telling me something, giving me advice or telling me his opinion on something that I’m doing, or telling me something about what someone else has done and just trying to teach me something. I usually describe it as a lecture. One that I didn’t sign up for.

There were times that I decide to listen, and there were times that I get so worked up. When I told him about how I get frustrated when I talk to him, one of the things he said was along the lines of, “you don’t need to get so frustrated."
I know I don’t like my dad because I get so prickly over anything he says plus I kind of try to avoid him, limit any time we can talk to each other which can make me feel kind of guilty because I know he means well. But, this doesn’t stop the fact that he gets on my nerves and how I don’t like talking to him.

It’s great when I don’t care and I’m not listening and just want him to finish talking. But, I don’t think I’m always going to be like that. Randomly, I’d decide that I want to actually hear him out but I get so worked up afterward that it’s difficult for me to concentrate on other things. That’s annoying! So I had to complain to my mom so she could talk to him but then my mom called me to a corner and she said: "You might feel he doesn’t understand you, isn’t supportive of you, or doesn’t give you the independence you need. The important thing to remember is that your dad is probably trying to do these things but in a different way from what you want. Have you tried to tell him how you feel? Imagine in your head the way you would like him to talk to you and then tell him your suggestions. If your dad does mean well, as you say, he will listen to you." She said and paused. After some seconds, she continued:

"We can love people and be annoyed or dislike them at the same time. When you find these negative feelings to take over, remind yourself of positive memories with your dad and your relationship with him. This could be as small as him driving you somewhere or saying goodnight before you go to bed. Think of something you would like to do with your dad and let him know. Spending positive time with him may also help decrease your feelings of dislike.
When we are angry or frustrated, we often react rather than respond. This means we do and say things without thinking and often end up regretting them or feeling guilty. When we respond, we have had time to not let our emotions take over. It might help to try to respond to your dad rather than react. So when you are recognizing yourself getting worked up, stop, take a deep breath and either tell yourself some calming words in your head or take some time out by yourself." Mom finally stopped.

That was the first time I watched my mom speak so intelligently and I was wowed. Through the help of my mom, we were able to convince my father to allow me further my studies. He accepted but he gave us a condition that he wasn't going to spend on my unborn baby. He said Biola and I would find a way to carter for the baby. He would only fund my school and nothing more.
And that was how my dream of going to University was revived. In the next episode, I'm going to tell you what my life at the university was like. Till then.

To be continued...
© Frank The Writer
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Episode 21 �

Written by: Frank The Writer

❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌



~Biola’s POV ~

We got to the hospital; a private hospital in Ibadan. We waited a long time before we saw the doctor. Then I got my very first sonogram. I found out I was actually two months along. More disappointment fell on Aunty Bose's face. The doctor also told us I wasn’t miscarrying and I needed to go home and have a good rest. He said the bleeding was due to the fact I was always worried and lost in thought. He further advised and encouraged me to avoid any form of stress, be it mental or physical stress. After describing a medication, Aunty Bose settled the bill and we left later in the evening.

~ Femi's POV ~

The following day, I fell ill from the beating I got from my father. My face got swollen and with a few bruises. Yet my father seemed unconcerned and unbothered when he saw my face. Thank God for my mom who was caring enough to get some pain reliever and other drugs for me at the nearby chemist. I used them and the pains subsided.

For good two days, I was indoors, and never had any reason to come outside. I was supposed to attend the second youth program but I couldn’t go anywhere. During that period of two days, my father barely said anything to me. All he kept saying was, that I should just forget about going to the university and go look for work that would enable me to take care of my unborn baby. He equally said that my nonchalant attitude had only found a way to fire an arrow in his heart. He said each time he preached and rebuked people about premarital sex and its likes, he always heard a voice that reminds him of his son at home. My father was of the notion that the devil was using me to fight him and his ministry, and I think that was more reason he didn’t take it lightly with me.

Seeing me every day in the house was something I knew he wished he could avoid. I knew I irritated him so much that he wanted me to go somewhere else after that incident. Instead of giving me support to survive through the predicament I found myself in, he made it worse by inflicting me with horrible words.
He also had this feeling that he failed as a father and a pastor for not raising me the way I should have followed.
My mom on the other hand was the opposite. She made me feel that l could still be a better person if I change my ways. And my father felt she was only pampering me despite what I have done.

I tried reaching Biola but she wasn’t taking my calls and she wasn’t replying to my WhatsApp texts too. I needed to know how she was coping with the pregnancy but she was ignoring me. I guess she must be regretting her silly actions with me.

One night after dinner, my father turned to me and asked, “Femi, what’s your plan with Biola? How do you both intend to raise your baby?” I was mute and didn’t reply to him. I was rather offended by his question. I wasn’t the first person to be in such a predicament, so why make me feel like I was the worst person ever? I pondered. I wish I could say it to him. I wish I could say a lot of things but that would only result in another serious beating.

“My major concern is your sister, Bose,” he turned to my mother.
“You think Biola would be a disturbance to her?"
“Yes. Why won’t she? A pregnant woman would always behave like one, so…”
“But I thought the strike has been called off the day before yesterday,” said my mother.
“Yes, I heard so. I tried reaching Biola but she’s not picking up my calls,” I finally spoke.

“Poor girl. Do you expect her to pick before? You have almost rendered her dreams…”
“Rendered her dreams what? Why won’t she pick? Did Femi force her? Did he rape her?” my mother interrupted.
“Like mother like son. I have always known you will support him,” my father said, his eyes widened.

“I never supported Femi nor Biola. I sincerely do not like how you have been going about with the whole issue. The deed has been done. All we need now is a solution and how to support the two of them in the way we could. How long do you want to keep making him feel rejected?” asked my mom. She sounded like she was sobbing and I felt my belly churn.

“And you think Femi deserves all your pampering? He doesn’t deserve it any bit. I won’t stop making him feel this way. Who knows, tomorrow, we might come back and hear that either Agatha or Bukola is pregnant for him,” my father sad to my discomfort.
“God forbid!” my mom replied speedily.
“God will only forbid if you spare the rod and spoil the child,” he said and went inside his room.

I was just calm. My fingers crossed, with lots of thoughts going through my head. I wished I could just fly out of the house and never have any reason to return. I needed somewhere I could find peace. I badly wanted to leave the house for my father and have no reason to ever come back.

~ Biola's POV ~

Finally, Aunty Bose's prayer was answered. The strike was eventually called off. It was time to return to Lagos State Polytechnic and I wasn’t excited to go. Not even a bit. I wished the strike continued for long till I was put to bed.
Two weeks were gone and I didn’t feel like resuming. I got calls from my friends and coursemates, asking when I’d be back to school. I kept telling them anytime soon. It was Seyi who kept calling me regularly. She knew me to be that serious student who normally returns to school on time and rarely misses classes. Each time she asked if everything was fine, I’d tell her yes.

One day, I got a call from an unknown number, and it happened to be Femi's mother. I wouldn’t have answered if I knew she was the one calling, but it turned out she actually meant well to me, unlike Femi's father who called days ago and made me feel worthless. Sometimes, whenever I was in my solitary confinement, his words came ringing in my head and I felt so bad.

Well, Femi's mother was more concerned about my health like a mother. She never in a way sounded harsh or rude over the phone. She was just positive and she went straight to the point about why she called. Her major concern was how I would cope with school and pregnancy. I did make her understand I was in my second year in Poly and after my exams, I’d go on one year of Industrial Training before thinking about school again, that’s if I’d still like to continue.

“You’ll,” she said. She went on to encourage me to stay positive and never allow it to weigh me down. She said she would send some money to my account later, so I’d use it to get some stuff before going back to school. She said I should feel free to call her if I have any challenges in school. And for the first time in a long time, I felt so relieved. I couldn’t thank her enough for her support and words of encouragement. She gave me hope and I was glad I answered her call.

“I’m sure you must have learned your lessons and I wouldn’t want you to repeat this in the nearest future,” she said. I replied in the positive.
“So send me your account details later in the day,” she said.
“Alright, ma.”
“And don’t forget to register for antenatal when you get back to school.”
“I won’t forget.”
She ended the call. I heaved a big sigh of relief. I went in and started arranging my clothes.

To be continued..
©Frank The Writer
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Episode 20 ��

Written by: Frank The Writer

❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌

~ Femi's POV ~

I was in the bathroom with my whole body shivering, while my father’s voice pierced through the whole house in shock at what I didn’t know who told him. Who is he talking to? I had pondered inside the bathroom. Then, my mom also came out of her room.
"Kilode? What is it? What did Femi do?” she asked in one breath?
“So this boy has chosen to disgrace me and has sworn to drag this family's name in the mud,” I heard my father say. He sounded bitter and upset.
“What has he done this time around?” Mom queried.

It was then I felt it must be about Biola's pregnancy. Could it be she had issues with the abortion or what? I kept pondering about what my father was informed about over the phone.
I haven’t spoken with Biola ever since Pastor Ben told me to make sure she didn’t abort the baby.
Truth is, I actually didn’t want her to keep the baby. Yes, I wanted Biola to get rid of the baby because I knew the outcome would have so many consequences including my chances of going to University. Having a baby as a teenager was not part of my plans. So I refused to call Biola after the youth pastor told me to make sure she keeps the baby. I planned to call her after a few days and hopefully by then she must have gotten the pills like she talked about the other time. And by the time I meet Pastor Ben again, I’d tell him she already did the abortion before I was able to reach her. That was how I had it in my head.

“Can you imagine? Your sister just called me…”
“Imagine what? What did Bose say?” asked my mother
“Femi impregnated Biola and he has been living in this house with us,” my father finally broke the ugly news.

I became so cold like a fish. I couldn’t make a move while I stood there inside the bathroom. My heart raced faster than Usain Bolt. I had several thoughts about my father’s next line of action and my whole being was in chaos.
“Ahhh! This boy has disgraced me,” stuttered my mom. I literally felt her words so deep inside of me, and I felt I had truly disappointed them.
“Where is that boy?” my father thundered. And I could hear him push the dining table.
“Femiii..,” my mom called, stressing the last syllable. I could sense they were looking for me as I overhead their footsteps from one end to another.
“Agatha, where is Femi?” I heard my father ask.
“I think he is in the bathroom,” she announced. And I could feel my heart thudding against the ribs. As soon as I overheard footsteps approaching the bathroom, I quickly bolted the door and wore my shorts.

“Femi, will you open the door and get out of that place,” he yelled, causing my heart to pound faster. Yet I remained calm and quiet not until he started to bang on the door.
“Femi, If I break this door, you won’t like yourself,” my father added aloud.
“Femi, won’t you open the door?” came my mother’s voice.
“Please, daddy, I’m sorry. I’m a changed person now.” I finally broke the awkward silence. Tears trickled down my cheeks. I was sober and scared of the unknown. I knew what he could do to me if I eventually open the door.
“Femi, if I break this door, you’ll get it rough with me,” my father said and banged on the door.

I kept contemplating whether to open or let him do his worst. I felt breaking the door as he said was kind of a threat and a way of tricking me to unlock the old wooden door. Not until I felt the weight of the door on my forehead. Yes, he eventually pushed the door so hard with his weight and it got loosened from the bolt. I couldn’t help but yell in pain as soon as the door hit my head. This was happening around 11 pm. The compound was as quiet as a graveyard. Only the sound of a generator from the next building was the only sound that filled the air.

My father came in and pounced on me. He slapped me hard on the face. He hit my head and every other place he could get hold of. I tried to run but he caught me in my shorts and continued hitting me so hard. “Please, daddy please…” I cried. Yet he was never moved by my tears and pleading. Despite my mom’s intervention and pleads, he went on till he saw blood gushing out from my mouth and face.
“This is just the beginning,” he said, then walked out of the bathroom.
“And this is the person you want us to send to the University? Eh? So he would go there and become the second version of Solomon in the Bible,” he turned to my mom who stood there motionless.
“Get ready to start working because you’ll soon father a child,” he said. He then reached his room, went in, and slammed the door.
I stood outside the bathroom, tears, and blood rolling down my cheeks at the same time. Subconsciously, I tasted my blood, and my tears tasted salty.

“Femi, how could you?” my mom queried

Silence.

“So this is all about you staying back in Ibadan?" she yelled.

“Yes. That’s it! He wanted to stay there and continue his atrocities with Biola.” My father screamed from his room.

I knew Agatha and Shola were awake but they couldn’t come out of the room. My mom went on to rebuke and say all manner of things that made me feel worthless. She added jocularly that she would have to cut my pen!s off.

~ Biola's POV ~

Morning sickness came pretty quickly, and I began to feel tired all the time. I felt so bad knowing I was always sleeping all day. It was Aramide who did almost all the house chores. It was my first time being pregnant and it knocked me down beyond my expectation.
Aunty Bose wouldn’t like to see me idling around, doing absolutely nothing. I knew she badly wished they call off the strike, so I could just go back to school and leave her husband’s house. It was through her, that my brother, Gbenga found out I was pregnant.

So, one Sunday evening, Gbenga visited us. He was so disappointed in me. He literally said I was stupid for spreading my legs for Femi. At a time, I didn’t know if he actually came to insult me or to see how I was coping with my first pregnancy.

Gbenga went ahead to remind me we had no mother again and my father in the village would barely show any form of financial support if at all I have any hope of getting support from him. Actually, we came from a polygamous family and my late mother happened to be the first wife. My stepmother and his children lived with my father in the village. My brother went on to say he regretted ever allowing Femi and I in his apartment the day we came to see him. He presumed that was the day Femi must have slept with me. I barely said anything to him and he was so pissed off at what I had put myself into. Gbenga was one of my brothers who had been supportive financially in my school and then he felt disgruntled.

****

The next three we were as rough, with my Aunty Bose rarely talking to me, despite her extroverted, charismatic nature. I began to feel really odd. I would burst out in tears at random times. I was depressed for being such a disappointment to everyone around me. Yet I hung on, determined to carry my cross.
One Monday morning, I was in the toilet when I discovered tiny spots of blood on my toilet paper. I didn’t know what it means and I didn’t know what to do. I’ve seen enough movies to understand the seriousness of bleeding while pregnant.
I rushed out and met Aunty Bose in the kitchen. I told her and waited to hear her say some nasty words, or perhaps, scold me but she didn’t. I could only see the shock on her face. I’ll never forget her face that very day. She told me to get dressed and we quickly went to the hospital.

To be continued...
© Frank The Writer
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SeyiJay:
Aaahh! Femiii!! It's finally done! It is well, as you're welcome to fatherhood. Rest assured of our support. Nice story, OP. Still following back-2-back. Reminds me of some little naughty bits of mine back in the day . . .

Lol... So you were one of Femi's accomplices ?

Episode 19��

Written by: Frank The Writer

❌ Do Not Copy or Repost. ❌


I had always known my father to be very strict and had always stayed unmoved by his decision. He would never change his mind about letting me go to University without turning a new leaf. But then I desperately wanted to gain admission that year. So I had to dance to the tone of his music. Yes, I needed to do that just so he could change his mind about me. And don’t forget Agatha and I was yet to complete our punishment. One of them was to do a 'morning cry' (Evangelism)
So in the quest to make a U-turn and make amends with God as my father had demanded, one morning, I woke Agatha up so we could go do the morning cry and wait for the next punishment that awaits us. She said she doesn't know how to preach and if only I could preach while she accompanies me.

Well, we did go out that morning as early as 5:30 am. We went with our Bible and torch lights to the neighborhood. I didn't want anybody to see my face, so I hurriedly did whatever I needed to say. You know, nobody can actually give out what they don't have. There was nothing in me to preach, I was even blabbing on the process.
Before 6:00 am we were already walking back home. On getting to our apartment, Bukola and I bumped into each other. She had a surprised look on her face and I could tell she was shocked by what she saw. We didn't say anything to each other. Agatha and I climbed the staircases while Bukola existed through the gate.

***
The following day, I attended a youth service which was organized by the youth pastor. When I walked into the youth forum that Thursday evening, they were about to start, and I went to the back seat. I actually like being in the back, standing in the front was never something I liked. I always felt uncomfortable doing it. While we were still standing, we did some singing; praise, and worship. Then we eventually sat down after 10-15 minutes. T
The residing Youth Pastor; Pastor Ben began by welcoming every one of us. “Femi, you are with us today? Wow! Thank God for your life,” he said to my discomfort. If only he knew how that made me feel, but I only had to fake a smile.

“So our topic for today is ‘Dating’.” He said and paused. He stared at us to see how we would react. I was wowed and likewise, most of them groaned, because they knew he would talk about some weird stuff. I’m sure you know what I mean? I adjusted vehemently on my seat to hear clearly whatever he would say.
He continued: “Well, some of you may not like this topic but we need to talk about it to save as many of us who are already lost in it.
"We need to talk something about dating. Most of you have been carried away by this six-letter word,” he added. Just then, Desiré walked in. She walked straight to the front seat, of course, she was noticed by all. “Why are you late?” the youth pastor turned to her. She stared shyly but couldn’t utter any word.

“So we need to know what the Bible said about dating, what it should be and what it shouldn’t be like,” pastor Ben went on. He started by telling us his life story; how he and his wife met and how they were lovers and sweethearts in high school. He said despite breaking up with her when he gave his life to Christ and realized he had been doing the wrong thing in the name of dating, they still ended up together. There was a momentarily murmuring and laughter among the youths.
He said that was his fate and destiny, and such can't apply to every one of us.
Pastor Ben bluntly condemned the word ‘Dating’ as a way of a Christian brother or sister. Courtship was the word he said was the right way that believers should follow when it comes to relationships with the opposite gender.
"Sir, what’s the difference between Dating and Courtship?” someone stood and asked. When he cleared his throat, he answered by saying, “The major difference between the two is this, dating may or may not lead to marriage but the sole purpose of courtship is marriage.”

“Sir, do you mean all courtship eventually leads to marriage?” asked the fellow who had asked the difference between dating and courtship.
“Well, not all courtships lead to marriage, but 90 percent always lead to marriage. But the good thing is, both parties must have not had any form of romantic affairs while in courtship, so if it doesn’t lead to marriage eventually, then there was no harm. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” we chorused.

“So don’t waste your time having an ungodly relationship in the name of dating. The church must be aware of your courtship and likewise, both parents should be aware too. Courtship is not a secret affair as seen in dating.”

After a series of teaching on what a Christian relationship between the opposite gender should be like, Pastor Ben went ahead to encourage us to keep ourselves until we are ready to settle down. And then we would pray to God for directions and ask him to reveal our life partner. He equally said that one of the worst mistakes one would ever make in life is, ending up with the wrong partner. Such a person would live the rest of their life in regrets and unending endurance. Amid his teaching, something led to another, and then he started asking each of us if we are still a virgin or not? That was weird and I never expected that from him. I felt my heart beating faster than usual. I looked at their faces, some laughed while some had a serious look. What has virginity got to do with today's topic? I had pondered.

Omo! I watched half of the youth declare themselves a virgin and I felt so ashamed of myself. When it got to my turn, I couldn’t help but lie. Yes, I lied before the pastor right inside the church even when he threatened us not to lie. How would everyone look at me as a pastor’s son? There were about three brothers and a sister who were bold enough to say they weren’t a virgin anymore. Pastor Ben asked them to wait behind to see him after the service.

His teachings really inflicted injuries in my heart that my conscience wouldn’t stop pricking me. “Our topic next tomorrow would be on Premarital sex and its consequences,” he added

After the service, I couldn’t go home. Then that calm voice came again, “Femi, how long do you want to continue without confessing your sins?” I looked back and I saw the four of them surround Pastor Ben. Mechanically, my legs led me to where they stood. “Femi, are you also one of them?” He turned to me. I simply answered by nodding my head affirmatively. Pastor Ben sat us down and began to counsel us. He went on to tell us to make up our minds that we would never go back to our old ways. There was something about him. The way he talked and the effect of his word on my spirit.
Long story short, it was through Pastor Ben I made my ways right and confessed all my sins. He then told me to reach out to Biola and make sure she didn’t abort the baby.

~ Biola's POV ~

It wasn’t my first time being pregnant. I had been taking pills throughout my relationship with my boyfriend in school before we packed up. So whenever I missed my period, I asked him to give me money for pregnancy tests and pills. Since Femi couldn’t afford such money, I had to cook up lies to one of my uncles who sent me some money.

So, I arranged the abortion myself as usual. I went to the nearest pharmacy and told them what I needed. As expected, I was cautioned and given directives on how to use it by the Pharmacist. Just so you know, the pills are quite expensive.
I must confess, I felt guilty doing this again. I had thought I was in my safe period during the time Femi and I was together.

I took the pills home and followed the due directives; I swallowed some while I inserted the rest down there, yeah. I’m sure you understand? Normally, I would have to experience bleeding in which the fetus would flush away, but this time I noticed nothing of such happened. I was beginning to doubt if I was actually pregnant or not.

Two days later, I went back to see the pharmacist, and I complained to him. He administered a pessary to induce the dilation and labor but nothing happened. He waited and tried again but still, nothing happened. He administered three pessaries and none worked.
“Can't you just go through with the pregnancy? I mean you’re already halfway through.” He added.
"Ahh! Halfway bawo?”
He didn’t say anything. He was pretty unpleasant to me. Like, he didn’t support me going through the abortion process. He never said so but I could read it from his face and every single word he uttered.

After three days, I went back to see this dude, and he told me that he could only try the chemicals one more, and if that didn’t work, I would have a cesarean. Mehnn… I was horrified. It eventually didn’t work and sad to say, I spent money for nothing. I didn’t want to do a cesarean. I still value my life that much. So, eventually, with the swelling of my breasts and other symptoms that I couldn’t hide, Aunty Bose (my brother’s wife) found out I was carrying a baby!
Aunty Bose was disappointed in me. She pressured me until I told her who was responsible. I was so ashamed of myself. There was nothing she didn’t say to me that I felt like the earth could open and swallow me. She went on to call Femi's father to inform him.

~ Femi's POV ~

That very day, we were done with dinner and about to sleep when my father’s phone rang. I was in the bathroom having my shower when he answered the phone. “Hello, Bose,” he began. Then after some minutes, the next thing I heard was, “You said Femi did what?”

I froze; a sudden coldness that hits at the core.

To be continued...
© Frank The Writer

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Calenikan:

Lmao... So how does it feel like being a pastor's son?

Holubunmi:
Well done
What an interesting write-up
Thumbs up

Thank you.