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Deji finally convinced himself he was just deceiving himself. He knew he was not going to learn anything, not with the presence of a lovely babe in the room. His heart had been beating ever since. He wasn't concentrating. He looked at his clock.

It was almost 11:00pm. He looked over at the girl sleeping a few feet from where he sat. She had rolled onto her back. In her restless sleep the duvet had come off her. The flannel shirt had ridden up a bit to expose her belly and the top two buttons had come undone and he could see most of her breasts.

She wasn't wearing a bra and they bulged against the fabric. The loose sweatpants had moved a bit downwards as she had rolled around restlessly, giving him a glimpse of her red panties. He felt his rod begin to tingle and grow and his mouth go dry as several thoughts about the sleeping girl began to flood his mind.

He shook his head. "No, I can't take advantage of her". He decided to take a shower to calm himself down a bit.

After his shower, he changed into a loose pajamas bottom and singlet. Their bodies touched briefly as he lay down and he adjusted and moved away a bit. The girl murmured in her sleep and turned and cuddled up to him, giving him a full view of her oranges, squashed against his arm.

He couldn't move away any further as he was already on the edge of the mattress. Every fiber of his body was begging him to make a move, but he knew it would be wrong. He tried hard to control his now raging boner and think silly thoughts.

"Anyways, she just needed help...you brought this upon myself...you should have let her leave when you had the chance...but I wouldn't allow such a young lady be out on her own in the dark and in the rain...well I guess I have to tough it out till morning, or probably..."

Groaning loudly, he jerked awake to find her kneeling over him. She was licking and drooling on his longman, sucking hard on the cap. It took him a couple of moments to figure out what was going on.

"Wha...what are you doing?!" he gasped, trying to sit up.

Two quick strokes of his rock-hard member sent bolts of pleasure from his loins to his brain and he gasped.

"Shhhh!! Just relax." She replied.


Trembling, he reached out to grasp one of her swinging b00bs, pinching the n>>ple between his fingers. Her muffled m0an told him she liked that. His other hand reached out for her other brezz and he began to.....
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“Good night Aaron, I love you.”
“I love you too darling” Aaron replied as she shut the door to the bedroom he shared with his wife Vicki. He waited until he was going down the stairs before he sighed loudly. It was only 8 o’clock but Vicki had collapsed into bed exhausted again, as she had for the past year. She wasn’t seriously ill, but just limited in what she was able to do.. Aaron was very supportive but it was stressful to keep a household in running order. It also meant that Aaron’s intimate life for the past year had consisted entirely of him and his right hand. As fun as that was, it obviously would never come close to the nacking he and Vicki enjoyed. Just thinking about some of their past escapades was enough to make him ready to burst his short.

Aaron quickly took care of his physical need but the emotional need remained. He needed to feel his wife’s skin, feel her body against his, feel the warm silkiness of her honey pot as he slowly hit in and out of her as they stared into each other’s eyes. He needed that connection, that closeness and its absence was starting to affect him in his everyday life. Later he wrapped his arms around his wife’s sleeping form and tried to convince himself that that contact was enough for him. Sometimes he felt guilty because his Vicki was battling an illness, and he was concerned about nacking.


The next day at work he found himself in a deep funk after an unusually difficult night. He was snappy, forgetful and generally a mess. The one bright spot was his mother in law, Alyssa who worked in the same building. He never missed an opportunity to go and visit her. She was a lovely woman, always bright and cheerful, which was a complete contrast to the increasing gloom surrounding Aaron.
Instead of their normal banter, Alyssa got right to the point.
“Are you okay Aaron?”
Aaron just looked at the ground and mumbled. “Yes”
“No you’re not. You look like a mess. Please will you tell me what’s wrong?” she asked imploringly.
Aaron sighed, thought “what the hell”, and soon found himself pouring out the stress of the past year.
“What can I do for you? You know I will do anything for you or Vicki.”

Not anything, flashed Aaron’s mind, you won’t give me the blow I need. He felt a tinge of shame because he had been attracted to his mother in law for a long time, and increasingly he found she was the object of his straffing fantasies.
“No Alyssa, you can’t help me with this.”
“I can always try if you just tell me what it is. I promise you will feel better if you do”
Aaron just stood, silent and uncomfortable until Alyssa’s face flashed surprise as she understood what he was talking about.


“Oh, yes, well, no of course I can’t help you with that.” she said quickly as she blushed.
Despite the awkward conclusion to their conversation Aaron slipped away feeling a little bit buoyed by their conversation. It felt good to get some that off his chest. At the same time he was starting to feel a bit guilty about lusting over his wife’s mother.
The rest of the day was fairly uneventful until he got home and Vicki called out to him.
“Honey, mom called and she said that she needs you to come over tonight.”
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Aside my regular bouts of matrimonial pleasures, I occasionally plumbed the treasure troves of nightlife adventures. I really can’t explain it, but I know that there was always the fervid desire for plural nacking partners. Talking of women, oh! how I love them. Especially the nightclub slay queens. They are infinitely daring and adventurous, deploying great skills, exploring new styles.

Patronising the nightlife babes taught me various lessons. A very important one was that there was nothing money could not buy. At least when it came to digging pleasures. The popular Elite Club located within the expansive premises of Elithe Hotel and Resorts, was our hideout. Assorted girls with differentiated assets thronged this spot like bees to the nectar. During the day, the ambience was funereal and sparse. At night, it turned a market square replete with crowds and cravings.

For the negotiations and selections, My personal assistant, Tunde took charge without equivocation. The routine was simple: Under the cover of the dark, I enter the Elithe Hotel, with my room previously booked. Tunde shops for my preference- the bold, black and big chested barbie. He brings the lady to my room. I pay her. She takes me on a joyous ride to nacking jollity.

21st of September, 2020 was remarkable. I had, as usual, visited the hotel in anticipation of another night of satisfaction. I took cover in room, 207, as I always did. However, Tunde was unavoidably absent that night. I had to rely on a male staff of the hotel to do the shopping for me. Of course, he already knew my spec, being a regular guest and father figure in the hotel. He was back in a few minutes. There was a gentle tap on the door. Shirtless but in shorts, I stood up to open the door. This time, my potential pleasure giver was not some anonymous vixen. There stood Bimpe, my wife’s younger sister.

‘Bimpe!!, my scream was guttural and visceral..
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Victor and I had come a long way as business partners. I offered my body for cash while Victor patronised me with an abiding relish. He loves straffing. I love money. So, we were bond in a business of pleasure. In one of our recent straffing dates, Victor shocked me ” Rose, when do you ever plan to settle down?”
“Victor don’t just go there” ,I responded as I began to put my clothes back on.
“I am serious. This business of yours, pleasuring young, rich, successful men like us, you know it is not sustainable, right?, Victor pressed on, this time, attempting to pull my oranges, as his hungry, needy eyes searched my body which was gradually vanishing into my clothes.

Nacking as usual. That was what he wanted. Possibly another round. Maybe two more. I concluded For the right price, I was ready to go.
“One more round for 50k. If not, please no touching”, I responded.
Over the next half hour, I threw my clothes back to the floor as we resumed action. Victor pounded straight into my honey pot from alternate angles, sending shrieks of pleasure through my body. This nightlife business was simply my life, and I remain ever grateful to God. Unlike other roadside call girls who had poor clients negotiating meager fees, I serviced the rich and powerful, right from my university days. At 35, 10 years into this business, I can say that I have become a veteran. With a luxury apartment rented within the heart of the city, and with enough expensive clothes and jewelry to market my body brand, what more could I have asked for ?
Oh! and Victor. Ever generous and reliable, Victor was my most consistent client. We met nothing less than four times a week, and up to 2 rounds per meeting. He loved the styles I give. He showed that in his consistent payment and even extra bonuses. Which was why I found it surprising when, after our first round on a particular night, he asked when I was ever settling down. I found it more annoying that after a second round, he repeated the question.
“I am serious about this Rose. You deserve a home of your own, with a beautiful husband and kids. I am not blaming you for plying this trade. But with what you have amassed so far, you can leave this business and start your own family.”

If not for the generosity of Victor, I could have [b][/b]just walked out on him and never responded to his future solicitations. Just one of the hazards of the business: Clients teasing you with all sorts of disparaging remarks.
“Please just stop it. In this same country, I am a graduate of a university. I sought jobs but got none. I enjoy this business and I am not about to stop.
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Zainab and I had been classmates in secondary school and our relationship with each other had merely been the expected camaraderie between students who faced the challenges of formal education together. Besides, I was used to getting attention from fellow students and teachers alike because of my academic genius, and my footballing prowess that had brought glory to the school team time and time again in various competitions. I was a rare type of jock; a smart one, and making friends had been the easiest thing. Zainab and I ended up going to the same university to study Architecture. She had gotten prettier over time, and very big oranges. I had developed nicely too, and spending that much time together inevitably led us to crave each other. One night she had slept over at my place as she would occasionally do during exam periods when she wanted us to be study buddies, and it had ended in mind-blowing straffing. We weren’t two passionate lovers engaged in tender consummation. It was just wild animal nack and we nacked like rabbits until we were sated with savage pleasures as old as time itself. We continued our relationship over the years, despite the string of boyfriends and girlfriends that made cameos in our lives. At the end of the first semester during our final year, we were travelling back home together when our bus developed a major fault. By the time the driver got it fixed, a considerable amount of time had passed and we got into Lagos very late. Most of the other passengers opted to sleep in the park as it was too late for any further movement, but Zainab’s mother had been waiting at the terminal knowing we would be arriving late. To spare me the discomfort of sleeping in the park, they asked me to follow them home and leave the next morning, and I thankfully obliged. Zainab’s mom Aaliyah was a beautiful Senegalese woman who was still young and smelled indescribably nice. Zainab’s father had seen her on one of his numerous business trips and had wasted no time getting to know her. The rest, they say, is history. Now he was away on another business trip and Aaliyah had come earlier that evening to pick up her daughter, but now it was already dark and Aaliyah had a phobia for driving at night so I offered to drive instead and 30 minutes later, we pulled into Zainab’s house. I was offered the guest room and I hit the showers immediately. When I came out to the living room, food was already served and we recounted the details of our trip to Aaliyah as we ate. Afterwards she pointed me to the fridge just in case I got thirsty in the middle of the night, and when we had all said our goodnights, we proceeded upstairs to our respective bedrooms. Seeing Zainab fresh from the showers in her short silk nightgown had stirred me up, so before she entered her room I pulled her to the side when I was sure her mother had locked her door behind her. Pressing body made my intentions clear but she wasn’t having it. She was tired and wanted to go right to bed. She wasn’t willing to risk getting caught by her mom either and thought I was crazy for even suggesting it. So when we had snuck in a short gulping, she left me to my troubles, a glint of mischief in her eyes.
I couldn’t go to bed right away so I began to watch a movie on my phone. One hour into the movie, I heard the unmistakable clicking of a door latch over the dim volume of my earbuds. I sat up, fairly positive it was Zainab. She probably couldn’t sleep either and had reconsidered my offer with me so close. Things were about to get good. Disappointingly, the footsteps went all the way down the stairs rather than towards my door…
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At 35, I was single and without the imminent prospects of marriage. Not that I valued the single life. I just had the ill luck of not being courted by the right guys. With many of my potential suitors, it was all about eat and run with me and getting me pregnant. With that, they believed my financial and professional successes would help me manage a child. But I was not ready for the single parent thing.

In terms of success, I was not too far away. I was a logistics officer at the Fount Agency, a foremost logistics and haulage company in the heartland of the city. I enjoyed my professional engagements and gave in all I had to the job. I found ways to relax through dance and parties. My dress sense was also flashy and classy.

The heartland of the city was the most expensive to live in. Lush and inured in elitist majesty and splendour, this suburb was the very one for the crème de la creme. I was still a young lady finding my feet. So instead of going for broke and renting apartments that would gulp millions from my salary, I decided to find solace in my sister’s palatial abode.

Bimpe was my elder sister by ten solid years. Born within the enclaves of our hometown in the village, she had, fortunately gotten married to a man who had gone on to attain entrepreneurial success in little time. Summarily, her husband, Uncle Segun was a billionaire.

Bimpe was the very summation of one overwhelmed with wealth and splendour. Despite being a billionaire through the sheer benevolence of her husband, she remained brash, rigid, and unfashionable. She always appeared in free-flowing native wears that totally shrouded any tad of beauty she had. Her non-exercising and poor attention to lifestyle morphed her into a busty, round and shapeless woman. With just two kids after a decade of marriage, one would have expected a smart, sentient, suave elite draped in smart fitting wears to titillate her husband’s phallic fantasies. At 45, my sister looked 55, haggard and tired.

“Yinka, you are not getting any younger. When do you intend getting married for crying out loud?”, was her regular refrain

“Soon” was always my response. I was going to surely get married. But I wouldn’t allow marriage to morph me into sister Bimpe.

My brother in law, Uncle Segun, as a successful entrepreneur, was an incurable socialite. Tall, dark and handsome by a mile, he was urbane, cheeky and always effusive in his smiles. His graceful mien contrasted with my sister’s dull look such that I sometimes wondered how their paths met.

Uncle Segun and I had a very professional relationship. He was the very charming and friendly type. He was always around to engage us in banters. He chatted with me frequently and engaged me in household conversations.

Gradually, I began to notice a wish for intimacy. He complimented my looks around the house. When at home, I was always disentangled from my top, which allowed my two oranges to jump around underneath my transparent blue home top. I was always in my bumshorts, salaciously swaying my back in the appreciation of the freedom home offered. From the kitchen down to the penthouse, I was not the type to let my beauty slide without expression.

Uncle Segun never stopped his appreciation of my frame. I noticed his consistent ogles, his perennial fixation with my backside, A few times I moved around the house, I could notice his stares down from the penthouse.
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For Charles, the period after semester exams were the best. As students travelled back to their homes, the hostels and environs generally would be deserted, with the exception of the few resident indigenes. That meant the power usage was drastically reduced and the electricity company was inclined to supply power for days uninterrupted. Charles was never in a hurry to travel back home after exams, preferring to enjoy the solitude of his hostel and the offerings of a fridge that was finally working like it was supposed to, with movies to keep him occupied all day. This was one of those days. But having spent a full week observing this monotonous routine, the insecurity problem posed by the emptiness of the big hostel that made it an attractive and vulnerable target to looters had forced him to make plans to travel the next day with Anita, the only other person in the hostel with him. Anita was his close friend’s girlfriend, a beautiful brown skinned girl of average build. She had extended family members living in the state and she had gone to spend some time with them after the exams. Her boyfriend Richard had travelled immediately after his last paper to be present for a relative’s wedding. When she finally came back to the hostel, only Charles was still around and even though they stayed in different apartments, she was grateful for the company. She dreaded the scary thoughts of being alone in the hostel and vicinity, and was prepared to leave the very next day but opted to stay and travel with Charles instead during the weekend. She figured that a six-hour road trip would be less daunting if she was with someone she knew.
Although Charles was a satyromaniac, he had never actually harboured any intimate thoughts towards Anita, the unwritten bro code naturally subjugating any interest he had in a beautiful woman who was already taken by his bosom friend.
Until a birthday party last year in the hostel compound when she had found him in a dark corner behind a water tank where he was answering a phone call away from the direct noise of the speakers, and she had twerked on him, grinding her aS sensually on his gron in time to the dull report of the melody carried along by particularly lewd lyrics. His hands had strayed to the crotch area of her bum-shorts in the heat of the moment, and stayed there as they gyrated to the X-rated words of the Jamaican artiste. She had left him casually at the end of the song as though nothing of note had happened, and he too had chucked it up to the party spirit. Everybody rocked everybody, these things happened. But from that day forward, the previously harmless lingering hugs and casual fleeting touches became erotic encounters for him, even though nothing seemed to have changed between them on her part. He never made a move, unwilling to risk a rebuff that would most likely lead to Richard learning of his spurned advances. The thought of her in the adjacent room alone with him in the hostel made his D hard. And now the possibilities tugged his strings once again, lifting him out of bed and pushing him towards Anita to once again seek an opening. He knocked on the familiar frame of Richard’s apartment door and the faint sounds from the movie that played beyond it paused almost immediately. Security concerns were already making her jumpy and he knew she would be hesitant to answer the door unless he spoke his name first as she knew he would do. He decided to joke around a little and rapped harder on the door with his fists.
“Hey, come out now” he said in an exaggerated thuggishly gruff tone.
She recognised his voice regardless and opened the door.
“You’re not serious,” she said with an amused chuckle.
He kept up the act, rushing in with his hands held up in a gun pose and his head on a swivel.
“Shebi na thief you call am, no be SWAT,” she chided him mockingly.
He laughed and took in her S body covered in only a wrapper. It was obvious she had washed her hair and taken a bath not too long ago. Apparently she was in no hurry to get dressed and had decided to get comfortable watching a Korean series. She had already gone back to her laptop but the movie was still paused.
He flopped onto the bed beside her.
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I was barely nine weeks old in my new apartment when my elder brother, Bodunde, breezed in unannounced. It was a dewy morning preceded by an all night freeze. I least expected Bodunde that early on a week day Especially with the drudgery of his job as a big grocery store manager which makes such visits a luxury.
“You have a nice place” Bodunde said as I offered him one of the six plastic chairs in my living room. I quickly explained that I was saving money towards the purchase of befitting furniture and he acknowledged my efforts with a soft pat on my back.
I was pleasantly surprised and got lost in a stream of thoughts as well. Was his visit motivated by filial love or buoyed by other reasons?
My beloved brother, Bodunde soon unfolded his agenda. As I took him on a tour of my two bedroom flat, he checked out everywhere with a finicky relish. Then, he turned to me and said ” Bolu, I need a favour from you… Since you have two rooms here and you are all alone, you will help me accommodate a lady friend who is having accommodation problems… Just for some time”
He went further to unveil the identity of the lady, Regina who he described as a single mother whose 16-year old daughter lives with her estranged husband in Port Harcourt.
He said Regina’s marriage had crashed about nine years ago though he didn’t tell me what led to it. I didn’t ask either.
There was a momentary silence. He knew and I knew that I couldn’t say no to his request. Bodunde is our family’s supreme court. His words are laws. But he duly earned this commanding reputation. Since our parents died, he has been our father figure, picking our bills and shouldering all responsibilities until we were all able to fend for ourselves.
Four days later, Bodunde personally brought the lady and her belongings. Regina epitomises beauty toned down by trauma. Tall, fair-skinned and golden-haired, her face bore wrinkles of trepidation but her natural sparkles still beamed as she brought in her bags and baggage. Her balloon shaped b-bs and massive backside loom large on her lanky frame.
Courteous and ever conscious of her status in my flat, she showered me with daily praise and prayers. From our interactions, I discovered that she was six years older than me yet she accords me great regards always.

We bonded and blended fast. She is a skilled hair stylist who renders home services to her numerous clients. She hardly stays at home unless in the evenings. But most times, as a web designer, I work from home.

Suddenly, Regina started acting strange. I noticed her mood switch when my girl friend, Alero came for a weekend. Alero is an undergraduate of the University of Ibadan. It was her first time in my house. It was so much fun.
It started the very Friday night she came. We went to bed early but we slept late. Alero was virtually on fire. First, she s/ked my ni-ples nimbly and adroitly brushed my thighs with her furry, furled loins. My body pulsated.....
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Looking back, I somewhat wished I never requested Tunde’s help on matters of the heart. However, I take solace in the fact that he saved me from plunging into a marital booby trap which Grace was determined to plunge me into.

While Tunde was my right-hand man, Grace was simply my woman at hand and heart. I met Grace at a Freshman function in the University. We had just resumed after a six-month strike. The joy and ecstasy of university matriculation pushed us all to the motion ground. After snapshots, there was a party at the university hall.

“Good morning pretty”, my 18-year- old bristling smile shone like stars.

“Good morning”, the young pretty Grace responded, extending a hand.

We exchanged contacts and met regularly on campus. From dates to chance meetings, we never lost sight of each other. Soon, we started dating and began a life of oneness that I was so assured of. There was a calm, a lull, an emotional relaxation and connection I felt with Grace that assured me it was all Uhuru. As the relationship progressed through our 100 and 200level years, I offered her with love and gifts, ce-z and bliss. We were so used to each other that we started I literally put my life in her hands. She knew most of my friends. Most fatally, She knew Tunde.

Under normal circumstances, I should address Tunde as my elder friend, considering the vast age difference between us. As at the time we met, during my 100 level years, he was 28- some 10 years older than me. A law student with a knack for grammar and history, Tunde was also experienced in women matters. In fact, I learned all I did with Grace from Tunde. The ki-zz-ing. The intense s-king of the n-iples . The fin-qering and intense licking of the nether regions. The forceful gag of Grace with my then vi-rqin c-k. Which was why I discussed practically every matter between Grace and I with him. So, on a particular weekend our 300 level first semester, we hung out at the university staff club over beer.

“Tunde, I have an issue ooo”

“Shoot bro”

“It’s about Grace. I want to really spend the rest of my life with this girl. But I need to be sure of her loyalty.”

The plan was hatched. Hatched, then butchered by Tunde. He explained to me. He would draw closer to Grace, ask her out on a date. Test her resolve. If she acceded to him, then she is not for me. If she didn’t and goes ahead to report to me, then she is my ideal woman. I consented to the idea, trusting the fidelity of both parties to me.

That was how the journey to my emotional devastation started. Tunde began to give me snippets, how he had chat her up. He even showed me apparently innocent conversations between himself and Grace. It continued for a while. Then I began to notice Grace’s changing attitude. She began to stay out late, then receive strange calls anytime I visited her. I was worried. I explained this to Tunde. His response was unserious. Maybe she had just been busy with school work. He showed me their whatsapp conversations. Grace had flatly denied his proposal, threatening to tell me before the week ran out. The following day, she knocked on my door. It was 6a.m. I opened. She flew into my arms, with a se-duc!ve, sneaky look.

“I am sorry I have been busy baby”, she said softly, as she began to strip me off my boxers. My d-k was out and in few minutes, was lost in the engulfing circularity of her mouth. She f-ked me twice that morning, in styles we had never tried.

“Brother Tunde has been pestering me. He wants me to go out with him. I just thought you should know”, she said as she began to take her leave.

If I had any doubts about her, it all vanished with that singular statement. We continued our relationship. Tunde gave a final verdict: Grace was God’s gift for me.

With my initial worries settled, I began to see Grace as a life partner, a woman beyond campus dating. I showered her with gifts, even made investments in her name. She had access to my account balance at will and I placed her on regular stipends. She got to know my parents. And my dad, being a generous businessman and politician, sent her cash.

Normally, I always informed Grace before paying her a visit. This Friday morning, I planned a pleasant surprise. I branched at a beauty parlour to buy her favorite wig.
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I am in trouble. Real big trouble and I need your help about this. I am a newly married woman. I got married Last year December. Maybe I made a mistake in insisting that my husband must marry me when I got pregnant for him last September. At the time, I was in a relationship but we were having issues.
We were both from broken homes and anytime we had issues, we will be verbally abusing each other but we loved each other so much. My mother and I are even estranged cos she too was abusive to me. So, my another man came and was trying to show me a better way, I was blown away by his treatment of me, he treated me with so much respect..
I found out I was pregnant after only 4 months of dating …I left the other guy and forced this man to marry me. He actually told me that it would be better if we waited until after the baby is born before we marry. I insisted cos I just wanted to have him for myself cos no one ever treated me this good.
Unknowingly, even though he was a good man when I married him, I was not good for him. After the marriage, my bad habits kept showing up even though my husband treated me the nicest any man can treat a woman. I cursed him when I did not understand certain things. I accused him of cheating when he came home late at any time.
Sincerely, my village people do not want me to be happy cos all the bad things I was doing to this man, I never realized it until now. Even when my baby was born, I continued being a bad wife. I would not cook, I yelled at him, I drove away his family members. I got angry one day and spent all the money in the account that he gave me the ATM card for.
Like I said, I now realized that it was because I grew up living with parents who were divorced and always bitter about each other, I learned very bad habits. I felt like I needed to abuse anyone that I did not feel ok with. I had serious trust issues and I have a very bad temper. In all, my husband was still good to me.
Until last week...
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I have been involved in a long distance relationship for almost two years now. We met online on one of these social dating sites and since then, every day of our lives together online, have been beautiful.
This guy lives in Sweden and I am in Nigeria, I just finished my university education and we intended to get married this year. Even when we had not met, it was like we had been together for long. He cared for me and my family. He provided for us and he ensured that I knew everything about him, his family, his job …etc
But things began to fall apart last December when he came down to Nigeria to visit me for the first time. In the course of our romantic endeavours, I found out that he has a small pen-!s. Well, to me, it was disappointing, and a turn-off because it was smaller than what I have seen in my previous relationships. How would I cope? Our cezual life would be zero. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy cez with him at all. My fears were confirmed on the night he tried to make love to me...
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Each time i strolled into Victor’s two-bedroom suite located in the heartland of the city, there was a halo of guilt that shrouded me. Each time I left; the feeling always dissolved into cezual satiation. My ce-z rom-ps with Victor usually began with supposedly innocent WhatsApp texts. Gradually, it turned into fl!-rty solicitations that gradually weakened my resolve.
“Good morning pretty Daisy. Hope you are resplendent today?”, there was a charm around his choice of words.
“I am fine Vic. What’s up?
“I was thinking we could see today.”
“What? Please, don’t bring that up? You know I am married right?
Then bombshell. The picture comes in. A vivid, tickling, sensation-triggering image of his long pen-!s. I struggle and struggle to fight the emotions. Eventually, I agree on a normal friendly dates. However, my emotional needs always give way to the promise of ce-zual bliss.
Being married for 10 years solved my problem of emotional and marital stability. But it has never satisfied my cezual needs. My husband, Seun, is an incredibly intelligent and handsome man. He is tall, fair complexioned with a milky, spotless skin akin to that of models. His urbane looks matched an imposing frame that swept me off my feet over a decade ago. His promise of love, companionship and emotional support has been blighted by an insufficiency- a frustrating one- in the cezual energy.
“I love you baby”, he always began
With that, he plants a fiery k!-ss on my hot l!ps. I must confess, Seun is a master of the k!-$$ing game. His fluidity and energy with k!-$$ing is unparalleled. He sets the tone in fierce rapidity that always harbours more to come. Except that, beyond that nothing much comes. From k!-$sing, he drives down my neck with sm-00ches, to my belly, then back to my n!-pples. He presses my br3@-st and n!-pples so much that I concluded he had mommy issues as a baby. He was always babyish, passionate and energetic about the pre-intimacy. With that, he begins to go down, undressing my pan-t!es and l!-king my pu-$$y with reckless abandon. He turns me 0n to the very peak, then he releases his member.
The sight of a pen-!s turns me on. But not that of Seun. On our first night, at full length, the size was just small and tiny. His pen-!s, at a quick glance and comparison, didn’t match that of any of my ex-boyfriends. I didn’t dwell much on that. So many men with not-too-big d!-kk still f-kk well. But each time he penetrates, he does it lazily and hastily. His d!-kk does not hit my cl-!tor!s well enough. His thru-$ts are always laboured, unsymmetrical and ineffective. At long last, 3 minutes and we were done. Despite the small size of the d!-k, Seun just never ‘rises’ again, however hard my mouth and hands try. This continued for the first three years of our relationship. I encouraged Seun to seek medical help. He just wouldn’t have it, claiming that at least I do reach 0r-gasm. The truth is I only always fake it. I had never even been close. Then, my fl-!rts and flings with Victor recommenced...
[b]Continue Reading...
https://fevbuy.com/2022/08/29/i-love-my-husband-for-his-good-deeds-but-i-cant-let-go-of-the-good-d-kk-of-my-ex-boyfriend/[/b]

I need your advice. I am feeling so sad and full of regret and I don’t know how to go about this. My name is Crystal, I am 27 years old. I have a fiancé, we been together for 3 years now. I have always wanted to travel abroad to further my studies and finally, I got the opportunity last year.
My admission to study in the UK came and my fiancé wanted us to get married before I go but I told him we should stick to the plan of getting married this year,2021. At least, so I can settle down and when things are ok, he too can come and join me.
So, he agreed but said we should seal our love by me allowing him to make love to me. I told him no, that I still want to wait until marriage before I have c3-x. He asked me if I will still be keeping myself for him and I promised him that.
Being in the UK has come with its challenges. One of the challenges is accommodation is expensive. To save a little money, I decided to stay with a relative of mine who is also in the same nursing field as me. She let me stay with her for a while.
Everything was going fine until I started noticing my relative’s neighbor. We used to meet in the elevator and he would just smile and say hi. He was a Ghanaian immigrant. Not long after, we exchanged pleasantries and when he found out I was new in UK, he became friendly and offered to take me round to know places.
We became friendly and I told him all about me. He was surprised I had a fiancé back home who agreed to let me come abroad without feeling insecure. I was like, we both have a goal and a plan. What both of us did not plan was for us to begin to develop feelings.
It became hard not to fall for Fred (the Ghanaian). Many times, he tried to k!-$$ me but I resisted. I truly wanted to keep myself for my fiancé. To be fair, when Fred saw I was trying to be faithful to my fiancé, he left me but I could not stop thinking about him. Maybe its the way he looked at me, maybe it was how hot he is…maybe its the way he makes me melt by holding my face in his hands.
My fiancé is a great guy but I began to feel that maybe I made a mistake getting engaged and God wants to give me an opportunity to find someone that connects more with me. Fred is like a mini god…very handsome and very romantic. I was barely able to stay away from him for a few days. I showed at his door and I did not resist his k!-$$es anymore...
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https://fevbuy.com/2022/08/27/how-i-lost-my-vir-qinity-after-three-years-of-engagement-waiting-2/

Please help me. My Auntie called me today from the village crying that her daughter is in trouble. So, I advised her, after advising her, my Auntie got angry with me and started calling me wicked and jealous. Please help me judge this story and tell me where I went wrong.. I am older than this daughter of hers. The young girl is 23 years old, she got married last year. This Aunty of mine is a very religious woman. She never allowed any of her children to be exposed. Infact, when we were growing up, she never allowed her children visit us because she called us wayward because the way we dressed.
Her family was righteous while ours was not. It was just a few years back that she began to relate well with us, maybe because of financial help that they require from us now and again. Last year, her first daughter got married to someone highly recommended from their church or so. The man is 36 years old. The age gap is much but they said the man refused to marry because he said he must marry a v!rqin and most girls these days are no longer v!rgins.
So, my cousin married him as a v!rqin. For several months after the wedding, my auntie started fasting and praying for the daughter to get pregnant cos she believed that since no man has slept with her before, the first man to sleep with her must get her pregnant. After like seven months of no pregnancy, my Auntie started firing fire fire prayers. The she began to involve the daughter in seven days fasting and prayers so that her enemies will not shame her.

When my mom told me this story, I told her to tell Auntie to relax. That they should go for medical check up. That its not a big deal that pregnancy has not occurred in under the first year of marriage. So, after alot of persuasion, the girl went with her mother to see a doctor. When they asked her to open up for examination, the doctor was shocked at the stench that was coming out from the girl. After much questioning, they found out that her an-us was bringing out some kind of puss.
That was when they began to ask her why she was having such smell and fluid from her anus. This girl mentioned that its after she married it started. That its from her anus that her husband makes love to her. Everywhere scattered. It was shocking and embarrassing. No wonder the girl could not get pregnant. The husband was f-king her from her anus and not va-g!na...
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https://fevbuy.com/2022/08/27/true-life-story-was-i-wrong-for-advising-my-cousin-to-leave-her-marriage/

Okay

“Good night Aaron, I love you.”
“I love you too darling” Aaron replied as she shut the door to the bedroom he shared with his wife Vicki. He waited until he was going down the stairs before he sighed loudly. It was only 8 o’clock but Vicki had collapsed into bed exhausted again, as she had for the past year. She wasn’t seriously ill, but just limited in what she was able to do.. Aaron was very supportive but it was stressful to keep a household in running order. It also meant that Aaron’s c3x life for the past year had consisted entirely of him and his right hand. As fun as that was, it obviously would never come close to the c3x he and Vicki enjoyed. Just thinking about some of their past escapades was enough to make him ready to burst his pants.
Aaron quickly took care of his physical need but the emotional need remained. He needed to feel his wife’s skin, feel her n—@ked body against his, feel the warm silkiness of her v@qina as he slowly thrust in and out of her as they stared into each other’s eyes. He needed that connection, that closeness and its absence was starting to affect him in his everyday life. Later he wrapped his arms around his wife’s sleeping form and tried to convince himself that that contact was enough for him. Sometimes he felt guilty because his Vicki was battling an illness, and he was concerned about c3x.
The next day at work he found himself in a deep funk after an unusually difficult night. He was snappy, forgetful and generally a mess. The one bright spot was his mother in law, Alyssa who worked in the same building. He never missed an opportunity to go and visit her. She was a lovely woman, always bright and cheerful, which was a complete contrast to the increasing gloom surrounding Aaron.
Instead of their normal banter, Alyssa got right to the point.
“Are you okay Aaron?”
Aaron just looked at the ground and mumbled. “Yes”
“No you’re not. You look like a mess. Please will you tell me what’s wrong?” she asked imploringly.
Aaron sighed, thought “what the hell”, and soon found himself pouring out the stress of the past year.
“What can I do for you? You know I will do anything for you or Vicki.”
Not anything, flashed Aaron’s mind, you won’t give me the blow I need. He felt a tinge of shame because he had been attracted to his mother in law for a long time, and increasingly he found she was the object of his ma$tvrbation fantasies.
“No Alyssa, you can’t help me with this.”
“I can always try if you just tell me what it is. I promise you will feel better if you do”
Aaron just stood, silent and uncomfortable until Alyssa’s face flashed surprise as she understood what he was talking about.
“Oh, yes, well, no of course I can’t help you with that.” she said quickly as she blushed.
Despite the awkward conclusion to their conversation Aaron slipped away feeling a little bit buoyed by their conversation. It felt good to get some that off his chest. At the same time he was starting to feel a bit guilty about lusting over his wife’s mother.
The rest of the day was fairly uneventful until he got home and Vicki called out to him.
“Honey, mom called and she said that she needs you to come over tonight.”
“Oh, what does she need me to do?”
“I dunno. She didn’t say. She just wants you to come over around 8.”
Aaron drove to Alyssa’s wondering what was going on. Her husband Tom could take care of most things, so what did she need him for? She hadn’t even told him to bring tools.
“Hi Alyssa, I’m here” Aaron called as he stepped in and turned to close the door behind him.
“I’m glad you’re here honey.” Alyssa said softly as he locked the door.
Aaron turned to face the stairs and at the top found a vision waiting for him that he had never imagined he would ever see...
Continue Reading>>>
https://fevbuy.com/2022/08/26/i-had-an-affair-with-my-mother-in-law-with-the-knowledge-of-my-wife/

Good one

Never felt this way before. I am 26 year old software developer. I got a job in a company four months ago. Its my dream job actually to work in such a company. I instantly had a crush on the HR lady that interviewed me, she is so attractive but I just maintained my side until two months ago. Then she had an issue with her laptop and brought it for me to help. I took some days to fix the laptop but I also peeped into the laptop and discovered she has alot of ce-xy nu-de photos.
Those photos excited me and aroused my feelings for her more. When I handed her the laptop, she asked me if I went through her personal stuff…I smiled and said…no. Later on, I texted her out of mischief and complimented her ce-xy body. She replied with a laughing emoji. That is how we started chatting and being friendly. The chats got more friendly…infact, intimate….we started cezting each other.
I have never done that before. But things got out of and very quickly. She would text pictures of her veegaa….I started mas-tur-b@ting to it. Shit got real, I wanted to f-k her and I told her about my feelings. She agreed and came to my place…we f-k all through weekends. She never tires. We are both drunk in love.
Now, I am madly in love with her but she does not want to go public with our relationship. She is our HR, it will be frowned at, in fact she might be sacked if the company gets to find out…secondly, she is 4 years older than me. But she said she has dated several guys younger than her but she cannot date them publicly.

Her name is Morenike. Morenike wants us to breakup because of her age and because we work together, I love her alot. I feel like I cannot breathe when she is not with me. I told that I can quit the job so we can be together but she says the age difference is an issue. That she is ready to get married, she is 30 years old, she wants to get married and she feels the society, even my family will oppose the idea. I have tried everything I can to convince her that age is not an issue for me.
Some weeks ago, I saw  pictures of her on Instagram...
Continue Reading..>>>
https://fevbuy.com/2022/08/26/true-life-story-secret-affair-with-a-senior-colleague-why-she-wont-leave-me-alone/

Not too tall though

My wife and I met as Students in Canada. We got married and were doing very well but after a while, I decided to return home, my dad is old and wanted me to take over the family business. My wife did not like the idea because she told me when we got married that she is estranged from her mother. That means, she and her mother are not talking.
My wife told me that soon as her father died, her mother started sleeping around and never had time for her. Her mother always sent her to boarding school so she cannot stay in the house with her numerous boyfriends. Even during holidays, she made her stay back in boarding school or sent her off to her grandmother’s place or her Aunties place. Suffice to say, my wife hates her mother.
Our wedding was in Canada, only her friends in Canada attended whilst all my family members in attendance, even from Nigeria. At the time, I did not really want to bother my wife because anytime I brought up her trying to make up with her mother, my wife goes ballistic. So, when I decided to relocate to Nigeria, I feared my wife was afraid of seeing her mother again, so, I agreed that she can stay back in Canada and look after the children.
Its been a year since I came back to Nigeria. I decided to do some investigation into my wife’s mother. She is a wealthy woman, well known in Rivers state. I located her and paid her a visit two months ago. I introduced myself as someone that knew her daughter while in school in Canada. I never told her I am her daughter’s husband. Soon as I mentioned my wife’s name, her face changed.

This woman became upset and said…why are you here? That she has no daughter by that name and she wants nothing to do with her. That was when I told her, I was her daughter’s husband and I want to know why she hates her daughter and her daughter hates her. She said she does not hate her daughter but her daughter was a spoilt child and she was possessed.

That at age 15, she was already sleeping around. Her father was alive then but nothing they did could change her behavior. Then when the father died, she became more out of control so she sent her to boarding school. She was expelled from school for many truants. When she brought her home to be a day student, she said her daughter started sedu-c!ng her new husband.

That her daughter and husband started having s-ez behind her back. At 17, her daughter had had 2 abo-rt!ons for her husband whom she already has twins for. That when she discovered, here daughter lied that the man rap-3d her. She divorced the man but the man almost committed sui-c!de few months later because it was a huge scandal. So because of this, she and her daughter became estranged.
In her thinking, she felt it would be better her daughter stayed away from her and her twins because the twins father almost died because of affair with her. She and the husband are reconciled because he showed her several evidence that it was her daughter that kept forcing herself on him.  Her mother also found out her daughter was sleeping with several married men in the neighborhood. She also decided that she cannot have the husband of her children and her daughter in the same house...
Continue Reading>>>
https://fevbuy.com/2022/08/25/true-life-story-my-wifes-mother-opened-my-eyes-to-see-a-different-side-of-my-wife/

I feel like sharing my story, maybe to lighten the burden I am feeling or maybe to help someone out there to learn from my mistakes and maybe the love of my life can find it in his heart to forgive my errors, perhaps if he reads my confession and apology. I want to unburden myself.

Four years ago, I met the most amazing man. We met in a night bus going to Enugu from Lagos. I was going to visit my family and spend my first annual leave with them. We bonded over the trip and chatted for several weeks. Gabriel is a business man with several branches. He was going for a business meeting in Enugu, his flight was cancelled and thank God for that cos that was how we met.

After I returned to Lagos, Gabriel came looking for me. He wanted a relationship that would lead to marriage. I loved him for that. I love a man who does not beat about the bush. Within five months of dating, he had proposed and arranged to meet my parents. My parents were a bit skeptical cos Gabriel is none Igbo. Igbo parents want their daughters to marry an Igbo. But Gabriel proved worthy of being more than 100 Igbo suitors. Of course, he won them over with money and respect and his love for me.

By the end of that year, we got married and I was so happy. My first year of marriage was total bliss too. We were expecting to start having children also very quickly. But things were not happening the way we planned. We went through two years of marriage and no children after actively trying. We started fertility treatments.

By the third year, the strain of the expectations started getting to us. My husband was trying his best not to show his disappointment and support me but I knew he was not happy. The fruit of the womb became a steady prayer point in our home. I saw how intense he was praying. And God answered us through IVF. I got pregnant with twins.

We were overjoyed over the moon. All was going well but we lost the baby before it could make it to the 12 week of pregnancy. I was devastated. I wanted to die. My husband must have felt the same. We immediately tried to do another IVF, it failed….we did another…it failed again. Desperation was set in. I was depressed beyond words. My husband’s business was needing his time more and more and I felt alone and upset that he was always travelling instead of him to be around with me through this trying period.

That was when my husband booked us a one month vacation in Dubai. He wanted us to go on holiday to rest…away from work and pressure of every month failing to get pregnant. My body had gone through so much…I could not take it anymore. After the booking and careful planning of the one month vacation, my husband got a very big contract in the middle belt. It was a contract worth over 2 billion. There was no way he could say no.

Despite the disappointment, we decided that I go to Dubai alone…that my hubby will join me like 2 weeks after he had initiated all the business preparations. I settled in the luxury life of Dubai but it was a very lonely life. Everywhere you go to in Dubai is luxurious …the glamorous life was very tempting. I was supposed to be enjoying but hubby was not there with me. I was upset with hubby for leaving me in such a time that I was feeling so vulnerable. But he encouraged me to have fun, go out and see the city and have adventures.

Two weeks after, hubby still could not pull away. I met a Zimbabwe business man who was lodging in our hotel. We became friends and somehow, we started hanging out. I did not tell him I was married for some reason…so this man and I hung out a few days…and unfortunately, he became very fond of me. I needed company. We went out one day and he told me he liked me. That was when I told him I was married. He was so disappointed.

For like 2 days, we didn’t see or talk….the third day, he showed up at my hotel room door and told me he cannot stop thinking of me. I tried to tell him that we would not work out anything cos I had no intentions of cheating on my husband. He asked me to spend just one day with him, cos he was leaving Dubai back to his country the next day. He promised to be a gentle man. I agreed.

So we had a day out. We talked alot and he was like, he wishes I was single cos he is completely in love with me just after one week of hanging out with me. As we got to my door, he gave me flowers he bought for me and said he would help me place the flower in a water jar…then he followed me inside my room. He placed the flowers in a flower jar with some water and I thought he was about too leave when he asked for a good bye k!zz.

Instantly, I said no…I kept saying no but as if he was sed-c!ng me…he kept pleading with some very s-3xy tones and pleading eyes….he said he just wanted to remember me for ever…It was stupid of me but I thought it was harmless ….abi….its just a k!zz right…I agreed for a k!zz on the cheek but he held my face and went straight for the mouth and tongue…I kept telling myself this was wrong but..it was his last night and he had been a good friend and companion…

From just a harmless k!zz it became very sens-val, he went pinching my n-!pples in the process…he began to cuddle me and I tried to say no but my body seemed to have a mind of itself…I began to m0@n and it seemed like that encouraged him more…we ended up making love that night and I thought this was going to be my worst secret of my entire life. He left the next day and left his number for me to be in touch. My husband could not come to Dubai eventually. I spent six weeks all by myself until I returned to Lagos.

Exactly a week later, I started having pregnancy symptoms. I was alarmed. The last time I had s-3z with hubby was almost 4 months ago…How would I be pregnant? I panicked and got a pregnancy kit to test and the test showed two blue lines. By this time, my heart was pounding. The next day…I rushed to do a proper lab test for pregnancy and it was positive.
Continue Reading...
https://zoralc.com/true-life-story-one-last-goodbye-kiss-led-to-a-huge-betrayal/

I am ashamed. I am frustrated. I need your advice. This thing called marriage has been very unlucky for me. Pardon my English, I am originally from Cotonou. I came to Nigeria about 11 years ago, I started doing house girl work through agents because my family is poor, they are farmers and things are very difficult for them.


After working as a house girl for almost 7 years, I met my husband. He is an okada rider and Security man. I did not plan to marry someone like that but he was like a friend to me then, he was kind and being in a foreign land like Naija, was very difficult for me. All the houses I was a help used to maltreat me. Some wanted to sleep with me, so, to avoid that, I had to get married cos I have no education or handwork.

Ever since I marry my husband, things are hard but we are living in love until last year. Last year, my husband cheated on me with one woman that used to come and buy something from my shop where I sell petty market things. The woman used to come and anytime she see my husband, she would call him her brother cos they are from the same East. They speak their language which I dont understand.

So because I take her like a sister because she come from the East like my husband, I used to sell on credit for her sometimes. And sometimes, I used to ask her to help me stay in the shop if I have to go to island to buy things for the shop. One day, I asked her to stay for me. But as I was going to the market, they rob me and took all my money, so I even borrow transport money to come back home.
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https://manytalkhub.com.ng/the-woman-i-trusted-have-taken-away-my-husbands-man-h00d-from-me/

My Aunty set me up and now I am pregnant and need your advice. My Aunty is from my dad’s family. She got married at a very late age of 43 to a very rich business mogul who already had two wives. Everyone was surprised that she was first dating this billionaire who already had 2 legal wives but the shocker was when she told the family she was getting married.


Since they got married four years ago, my aunty has been enjoying the man’s wealth, cars, luxury life but she is yet to get pregnant and tongues started wagging. Some said she got Karma from the 2 other wives, some said she married a man that was too old to get her pregnant and some said she was too old to get pregnant cos she was past 40 years and already in menopause..

The husband is just 52. My Aunty was desperate. She tried several IVFs and all failed. Last year, my Aunty reached out to me to come spend holiday with her. The thing is, I am from my father’s second wife which their family did not really accept. So, for my aunty to call me to come and live with her, that she will sponsor my education, I was overjoyed.

Still in my third year in University, I have been living with Aunty since last December. Not long after, like 2 weeks after I moved in, I started noticing Aunty’s husband was fond of me. I too enjoyed the attention cos I thought he was just being a kind uncle. He even called me our small wife. He would smack my b-uttt and squeeze my br3@sts sometimes. I started becoming afraid.

That was when I told my Aunty. That Uncle plays too much with me, that he touches my br3@st and she laughed and said he means no harm, that its the way he is. That I should relax. I imagined she did not see anything wrong in it, so I did not mind her husband touching me in sensitive places.

Gradually, from touching, he began to try to k!zz me and eventually, came to my room and try to make me have cez with him. I tried to stop him, telling him my Aunty will not like it but he said I should relax, that my Aunty does not mind cos she knows he is a playful person. Knowing that I already told my Aunty when he was touching my br3@st and she did not mind, I allowed Uncle to have cez with me.
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https://manytalkhub.com.ng/my-aunty-her-husband-set-me-up-my-life-is-in-danger/

I am married to a good woman. Its not like she was a vir-g!n when we got married but we both used to enjoy cez during our courtship and after wedding. My wife matches my cezual energy, I am one of the lucky ones. There is never a time I want cez that she turn me down. In fact, our cez life was very sweet. We do it every day and anytime. She is fun and spontaneous and I loved her for it.


However, something happened when she got pregnant. Due to her pregnancy, she would urinate very frequently as most pregnant woman do. That made her have a smell around her vag-!na which repulsed me. I had to tell her that anytime she goes to urinate, she has to wash with soap before I made love to her. Which she tries to do but I still noticed a faint smell around her even when we are not making love.

My wife explained that, sometimes, a small wee can come out of her uncontrollable…this made her clothes smell. I guess I have a super sensitive nose. I could not stand it…it turned me down…I started refusing to make love…this did not go down well with my wife cos even though she was pregnant…she was also very active cezually. I noticed that even when she washed up…maybe its my thinking…I don’t last as long as before…maybe I am thinking the p-vzzy is not as clean even though she cleaned it. I find myself coming under few minutes.

This made our lovemaking quite uninteresting…I practically avoided cez , most times until my wife gave birth. I was looking forward to her giving birth ,..especially after six weeks so we can resume our active cez life cos I have missed fvkkcing my wife the way it was before the pregnancy. I was totally disappointed when we tried to make love after the six weeks after giving birth.

As we tried to make love…I discovered that due to the size of our child when my wife gave birth…her v@g!na has become loose even after some stitches were done to close up her v@g!na. But the thing is no longer as tight as before. Infact…its like a big sea and I cannot feel myself anytime I try to pen-3trate her. This is so frustrating to both of us. When I told her what the issue was, she became emotional…saying I am ungrateful…after she gave me a son, I expect her vag!na to remain the same...
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https://pbeaz.com/pregnancy-changed-everything-my-wife-can-no-longer-satisfy-me-please-advice/

To the members of our church and the General Overseer, I’m a Godly person but if Iyabo, my mistress who has two kids for me carries out her threat, I will be exposed.

Last week, Iyabo called amidst tears saying she was tired of being hidden away in Abeokuta with her kids while I live in Lagos. She complained about not knowing any member of my family and said she was worried that at my age she would lose out if anything happens to me.

I reminded her that she knew I was married we started and pleaded with her to give me some time.

As though they planned it, my other mistress, who lives in Ibadan, Lillian, is also insisting I must introduce her to my family. The son she has for me is named Tunji.

She burst into tears when I told her to wait. I was moved. I had not recovered from the verbal attack from Iyabo when Lillian did hers. And since I’ve been trying to do a reappraisal of my life. It has really been telling on my health. To make matter worse, the rounds of cez Lillian used as a bait to relax my nerve before lambasting me resulted in another pregnancy. She is expecting any moment from now.

At my age I should not be seen colouring the truth. I should call a spade a spade and nothing else. But can I? If I do, what’ll the General Overseer and the members of the Church think of me.

What also will Stella, my wife, and the four special kids God has blessed our marriage with, think of me? I’m really at a cross-road.

I met Stella at the office of the Corporate Affairs Commission. I’d gone to seek information on how to register a company. She attended to me in a very respectful manner. And I longed to know her better. She didn’t hesitate when I asked for her address.

A filial relationship began thereafter. And I was always visiting her at home. She observed one thing one day.

“I’ve never heard you talk about your wife…Don’t tell me at your age you are still single and searching.”

“Now that you’ve asked me not tell you I’m still single, what do I tell you then?” I said, laughing

“Okay, like you rightly observed, I’ve not been talking about a wife. You are very correct to conclude that I’ve no wife… I’m a bachelor…”

I was thirty-eight at the time. I almost decided I was not going to get married. I had lived with three different live-ins. Each of them spent about six months and when they thought they had had enough, they vanished into the thin air, taking along my money.

Stella apologised for making me remember those sordid experiences. One day Stella came to my office, looking really, really sad. I’d never seen her like that before.

I ushered her into my office and asked what the matter was. Without saying a thing, she handed me a letter. It was a sack letter. Why Stella of all people? I asked myself. I held her hands and asked for further clarification on why she was sacked.

When I pestered her, she said the personnel officer had for long been worrying her.

At the time I was employing people in my new office. I put the offer to her. She laughed.

“I can’t work for you,” she said.

“Why?”

“We are friends and…”

I succeeded in convincing her. She took the job and we began to see and know more of each other. She was a magnanimous personality. She was always winning big contracts for the company. I realised I was not getting any younger. I had to make hay when the sun was still shinning. I took her out for a lunch and dropped the bombshell.

“I think I love you.” I said after the meal. She was shocked. I never gave her the slightest impression that I was going to say a thing like that. I behaved as if it was just another lunch date.

“Please say something,” I urged.

“What do you want me to say?” She said angrily.

The following day Stella did not come to work. So, I went to her place after office hour. It was her father who told me outside that she was a bit under the weather.

When I got in, she was sleeping. I did not wake her up. Instead I went to a nearby supermarket, bought some provisions and a card. She had woken up by the time I returned.

“Femi,” she called me for the first time without adding ‘brother’, “have you been here for long?”
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My mum was never comfortable with his relationship with our family, but Mr Shadrach and dad are best of friends and business partners. Mum’s reservation for Mr Shadrach is based on his reckless life styles, polygamous status and obsession with alcohol.

My father, on the other hand, didn’t see anything bad in his friend’s choices. He enjoys his company as his only true friend. They play games and laugh together.

As the only girl in the house, I did not see anything wrong with the man too. He was jovial and friendly with everyone. With the benefit of hindsight, it seemed my mum sensed what dad and I didn’t see.

After my secondary school, I was enrolled for a tutorial class for JAMB, alongside his son, Josh.

He came to pick us in the evenings to drop us at home. He would drop his son at his residence before taking me home. When we get home, my dad would appreciate him while my mum had nothing to complain about because it was a major relief for her.

Every night, in my room, I would bring out everything he bought for me: Suya, ice cream and so on.

But during the day, I always paid the price for all I consumed in the night.

He turned me to a cez addict. Any time, he came to drop me at home, we always had cez in his tinted car. He usually drove into a public school compound where no one would see the car. From handling my br3@sts, he graduated to f!nger-!ng my v@qina, and then to having real cez.

At first it was painful, but later I started enjoying it, and with the complimentary gifts that came with it, I gave in.

We continued this affair when I got into the university, I had no boyfriend, he was the only person I knew.

I hardly ask for money at home because I receive monthly allowance from him. I had three abort!ons for him. In fact, after the third ab0rt!on, the doctor specifically told me that my womb was partially damaged, and that I had a fifty-fifty chance of ever getting pregnant.

When I graduated from the university, my dad organised a house party for me and; of course; Mr Shadrach was invited, being his close friend.

My dad, in his speech, after he thanked God and every other people, thanked his friend.

“I want to appreciate my wonderful friend, he has been with us since day one and he took my daughter as his. He has done many things for her which I her father couldn’t even do. May God reward you abundantly and your daughters and son shall also enjoy in multiple folds, what you have done for my family”

I looked straight into his eyes, our eyes met...
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I remember being seventeen with a higher cez drive than most proper adults, because of my early exposure to p0-rn0graphic content on the internet. But of all my teenage erot!c experimentation, no experience shaped my cezual preferences more than my first steamy encounter with my hot middle-aged neighbour, Miss Adunni.
She had lived next door to us forever, and was more of a family friend than a neighbour. She had an excellent rapport with my mum, and always brought us a ton of things from her travels to Paris where she stayed for three months every year. She worked as a freelance French translator for various organisations and as a result she was widely travelled. She always had interesting stories from her trips to various parts of the world. She was single and although she must have had her fair share of flings, boyfriends and suitors, she never brought anyone home. Not even female friends. Whenever she was home, she kept to herself and seldom left the comfort of her house unless it was to spend time in ours. She was a beautiful tall woman with smooth chocolate skin and a big body. She sported a luxurious blown-out afro and had moderate-sized br3@sts compared to the size of her body. She wasn’t plus sized or even chubby, she just had a large amazon-like frame. Her azz more than made up for what she lacked in b-00bs. Her th!qhs were amazing to look at in the array of mini skirts that constituted her wardrobe, and she had a beautiful slightly gap-toothed smile. I never noticed the cezuality she exuded until I began to explore my newly discovered haven of p0-rn0graphic thrills. Suddenly, I was aware of the similarities between my 35yr old aunty Adunni and the m!lfs in my favorite X-rated videos getting fvkkced by that lucky old bagger, Santa Claus. Sneaking peeks up her skirt was easy enough. They were always short skirts and most positions she sat in unwittingly favored my voyeurism, so more often than not I was rewarded with gro!n-tightening views of her p@nt!es.
One Thursday evening, someone had showed up to deliver a package to her but she wasn’t home and had instructed him to drop it off with me. When she came back the next day, I went over with the package and knocked. When she opened the door she was wrapped in a towel, beads of waters still glistening on her skin from her just-concluded shower. She invited me in with a smile, motioning to the center table as her preferred spot for me to set down the package.
She sat directly in front of me and inquired about my well being but I heard nothing. My eyes were glued to her curly pub!c hair that peeked out from between the parted hems of the towel, which had stretched over the wideness of her azz when she sat down. I tore my eyes from between her legs and began to fiddle with my phone in a desperate attempt to fight my growing er3ct!on, but with the soft woolen fabric of my plaid p@nts, it was impossible to hide the massive tent.
In a flash, she plucked the phone from my grasp.
“What are you looking at?” She worked the buttons with a giggle....
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I don’t know whether or not to thank Roli for linking me up with Bishop Roland Andrews, the highly resourceful clergyman, who has turned me into a lustful captive. What started as a pleasure ride for me is fast becoming a steady slide into pressures.
Roli works as a Front Desk Executive at the popular G-light Resorts, Warri, Delta State, Nigeria.
With the nature of her job, Roli interfaced with different classes of guests, mostly the rich, the famous and the influential. Of course, only the moneyed class can afford to lodge in G-light. The job has been a blessing and a burden on Roli whose marriage crashed because of her unrestrained coquetry with some male guests.

Consequently, she resolved to steer clear of amorous relationships with any guests, notwithstanding the temptations. It was in the heat of this repentance that Bishop Roland showed up in the hotel.
Stout with broad shoulders, athletic strides and a well-trimmed moustache, Bishop Roland, had a missionary project that regularly brought him to Warri. He was based in Asaba.
Roli welcomed the bishop with utmost courtesies. The man of God was happy with the facilities and the facilitators. He had barely settled down in his deluxe room when he started toasting Roli through the intercom. Soon, he asked if she wouldn’t mind spending the night with him in his room. Roli politely declined. He pestered her but she was unyielding. Then, the bishop changed his strategy. He begged Roli to help look for another lady who would keep his company for the night. Roli sent for me.
I arrived at the hotel with bated breath; not knowing exactly what lay ahead of the invite. Roli ushered me in and introduced me to the bishop. Thereafter, she left.
Now alone with my new friend, we wasted no time on pleasantries. He drew me close to himself, gave me a k!zz and unzipped my frock, cavorting with my body, endeavouring to unfasten my floral br@. As the hook snapped, my br3@sts heaved on his broad chest. His bulg!ng c0kkcc rustled beneath his p@nts, wrestling for a chance to stretch. I felt the whiff of the raging rod and I dipped my hands in his skivvies, grabbed the s3-men soiled d!kkcc. “Whoops,” he m0@ned as he lay me unc|ad, clutching my cl!t0ris, clasping my n!pp|es simultaneously. I was squirming and screaming in a boundless delight. His long, curvy c0kkc swam into my wet pv-zzy , thru$t!ng waggly...
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