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 Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 12:56pm On Nov 06, 2021 |
ShadowWalker00:1. I did not have any particular university in mind, but did think of it as one in the SW region though. 2. Not necessarily real life, it's mostly fiction. Some of the characters, though with different names, are based on people I know. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 5:56pm On Nov 05, 2021 |
sandraade:What do you mean?  |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 1:03am On Nov 05, 2021 |
stanvesco:So Okafor's law may still apply sometimes in the future? 2 Likes |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 10:39pm On Nov 04, 2021 |
We have been inseparable ever since. I realized I cared for her more and more every day, and though we’ve only had sex thrice in the two months since that first time, each of those times seem to have brought us much closer. I won’t lie, I’m happy I have her again, but every now and then I find my mind judging me. I wonder why I allowed her back into my heart. Agreed, she is a different person now, and she is much more mature, loving, and caring - things I will always hold dear - but the thought of her with my brother still floats around in my mind and makes me wonder what I’m doing. I try to hide my struggling conscience when we are together, as the happiness in her eyes and manner always makes me feel guilty that I harbor such thoughts in my head. On the other hand, I don’t want to let her go and lose her again, and this two-mindedness bothers me a lot. Last weekend I took a trip to talk about it with my former roommate (whom I mentioned earlier is also here in Canada, but in a different province), and though he was surprised to hear that Yewande and I reconnected, he told me to follow my heart. I told him my heart is the problem – deep down I know I still want her and I’m happy I have her again, but I can’t seem to get past what happened as it always creeps up in my mind. His wife told me that from what I had explained, and being a woman herself, she knows Yewande is truly repentant. Her behaviour shows that clearly – no girl will go to the extent she had gone. She told me everyone makes mistakes, and Yewande has clearly learned from hers. The only problem she sees that worries me is the whole issue started with my brother. If it were anyone else, she said, I would have forgiven her and taken her back without a second thought. She told me to give her another chance, as she does not see her recovering from the heartbreak if I abandon her after all the pain and agony she went through to reconcile with me. God had a reason to bring us back together, she concluded. Please, what advice can you readers give me? --------------------------------------------------- FIN. 3 Likes |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 10:36pm On Nov 04, 2021 |
I adjusted the temperature of the water before stepping under the shower. As I scrubbed my body in lather, I thought about what she said. To tell the truth, what she said touched me. If everything she said was true, and I don’t see her having any reason to lie to me, then she really must have had this on her mind for such a long time. I will admit it – I still wanted her. I just couldn’t get the thought of her with my brother out of my head, or the unspoken words when she decided to be with him, not me. Although all that happened so many years ago, the memories still existed. But I just had to let it go once and for all. The pain still existed to my surprise, but… I heard the bathroom door creak, and moments later, the glass door to the shower slid open. I turned to see Yewande standing there clad in nothing but her bare skin. I wiped my face to be sure I wasn’t day-dreaming, but the girl didn’t disappear. “Yewande, w-what are you…why are you naked?” I asked in disbelief. She just stood there and eyed me without a word. This was the first time I would see her like this; her slim shoulders, her large brêasts, the little navel that formed a dark spot on her flat tummy, her trimmed V, her rounded hips, and the curve of her lovely derriere were all new to me. I forced myself to look into her eyes rather than at the way her full, shapely brêasts bulged invitingly. She studied me for a few moments, her eyes slowly roaming from my face, to my chest, down to my abs, to my semi-hardened dîck before going back to stare at my face. Her eyes blazing with pent-up anger. I remembered that look very well – the very same look she gave me those so many years ago whenever I didn’t let her have her way. She stepped into the shower and stood in front of me. Her body was oh so enticingly close, just a hair’s width between us. Her nîpples barely brushed my abs and my dîck stirred. It began to rise and I took a step back to prevent it from brushing against her body. “Yewande…” I repeated her name. She didn’t respond. Rather, she placed her hand on my chest. Her slim and well-manicured fingers with their crystal-red acrylic nails grazed my skin and slowly moved across my pecs. They travelled down to my stomach and grazed my lower belly. Her touches were electric. I felt my dîck instantly harden and brush against her tummy. She lowered her eyes and closely studied it. Her delicate fingers wrapped around the girth, and it swelled noticeably in her hand. I tried to protest, but two firm tugs made me gasp instead. “Yewande, please…stop,” I moaned as she began to stroke it gently. She caressed it ever so deftly, and I couldn’t help but groan loud as she gave me a couple of slow, measured hand pumps. I don’t know what got into me, but at that moment I was not thinking with my normal head. My arm wrapped around her naked waist and I pulled her into me roughly. I heard her gasp slightly. The warm water flowing from the showerhead above began to form rivulets between her brêasts. Our lips were so close; I could hear her breath coming in low pants and feel it on my face. I buried my mouth on hers and began to devour her lips. She opened her mouth and our tongues began to wrestle. I pressed my lips at the spot on her neck below her jawline, tracing my way down to the hollow of her collarbone, and she moaned audibly at my aggressiveness. She wrapped her arm tightly around my neck, and her voluptuous body mashed into mine made my dîck develop a brain of its own. I felt it swell and pulse in her hand and I knew she felt it too because she gave it a firm squeeze. She pulled away and sank to her knees. Her fingers still gripped my dick tightly, and she squeezed it, carefully examining the secretions that had started seeping out. She leaned forward and planted a small kiss on the glans. Her tongue darted out and teased the base before taking the bulbous head between her lips. She sucked on it for a few seconds and small groan escaped me. She took it out of her mouth and finally spoke. “Do you want me to continue?” she asked innocently, her large, bright eyes probing mine. Of course, I wanted her to continue. I nodded my head slowly. Her hands rested on my hips and she took me back in her mouth. She moved her head back and forth, slurping and sucking noisily. My knees wobbled and my hips bucked. I didn’t know when I held her head between my hands and began thrusting slowly. Saliva gushed out the sides of her mouth and drooled down her chin. I felt myself getting closer. “Ye...Yewande…I’m…you’re going to make me cum…” I blabbed. She nodded vigorously, wrapped both hands around the shaft and began to stroke energetically, all the while licking and sucking. I had to grip the wall with one hand to steady myself. “Yewande…” I warned her, but she just sucked harder and faster. Only then did it register in my brain what she was trying to do, but she had pretty much brought me to the point of no return already. I groaned loudly and for the second time in my life, I flooded a girl’s mouth with my cûm. She retched loudly, but managed to contain the spurts. Her cheeks bulged as I filled her mouth with sêmen. As the spurts died down and I finally descended to the real world, the sound of water falling onto the tiled floor from the shower head returned to my ears. Yewande was finding it difficult to contain the amount of jiżm in her mouth. She strained to swallow a bit and grimaced. She finally expelled the rest, the saliva-cum mixture drooling down her chin and splattering onto her boöbs. “I’m sorry Dimeji,” she apologized. She spat on the shower floor and tried to wipe the cum off her brêasts, but only succeeded in smearing it over them, “I thought I could swallow, b-but the taste…” “It’s okay, you do not need to apologize,” I assured her. I placed my hands under her armpits and lifted her up to her feet. I poured some body wash into the sponge and soaped and scrubbed her body from her neck down to her shoulders. I scrubbed her arms and armpits, and took more time to scrub her brêasts. She looked up at me and gave me a shy smile, and I slid the sponge down to her tummy, then turned her around to scrub her back and derriere. I proceeded to scrub down her thighs to her toes. I pointed the shower head to her, and the water slowly washed the lather off her body. I washed the remaining soap off my body as well and after drying her up with a towel, I took her hand and she meekly followed me out to the room. I lay her on the bed and sat alongside her. I looked down and took my time to admire her naked body. She was clearly nervous – I observed the pulse in her throat throbbing slightly as she swallowed stiffly. She just lay sprawled on her back and stared to the side, her face slightly tilted away from me, not saying a single word. I leaned over her and started to kiss her, caress her smooth skin, and it was not too long before she began to respond to my touch. I slid over her and kissed down her body, taking my time and attention on her erogenous zones. “You promised me you had forgiven me,” she said sadly. Her breath had started to come in short, erotic gasps. I pinched her nîpple lightly, and she moaned. “I have.” I responded. “You haven’t!” she replied. My fingers lightly caressed her ribs and her body arched slightly off the bed, “w-why do you keep pushing me away?” I sucked one brêast while gently squeezing the other. “I’m not pushing you away Yewande.” “You are.” A shiver ran through her. “Sssss…stop lying. You…ahh…k-keep pushing me away…even though it’s very obvious you…want meee...” “Yewan…” “I was very young DJ…young and naïve.” “I know,” I replied. I was soon caressing the baby soft skin of her lower belly with my lips and tongue. “you were very young and naïve…but you’ve grown. You’re a more mature young woman now.” “Am I?” “Yes,” I replied, “and if I was pushing you away, we will not be here now.” “You are just trying to seduce me…” she moaned softly. Her voice faded away; her hands clawed at the soft bedsheets and she lost herself in the erotic bliss of the attention I gave her body. When I knew she was ready, I positioned my recovered hardness between her legs and for the first time, I entered her. I didn’t fûck her like other girls in the past; I made love to her. I realized that in spite of the betrayal I felt all those years, the feeling I had for her still existed in my heart. The bond we once had between us, though severely frayed, had never been broken. The look in her eyes, the way her body responded to mine, the tender caresses of my face and the gentle moans she made as I slid in and out of her told me a whole new story. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. We made love more than twice that evening, and each time I brought her to climax, she moaned my name loudly. By the time I finally let her out of my arms, she was dead tired. Delicious exhaustion was clearly written over her spent body. She just lay there, her body barely covered by the wrinkled and scattered bedsheets. Her eyes were closed and her lashes fluttered in the gentle breeze blowing down from the fan above. Her brêasts rose and fell as her breathing slowly returned to normal. She looked so at peace, the heavy weight finally lifted off her conscience. I did not have the heart to tell her it was time I took her home, so I let her stay the night with me for the first time since our school days. She was very, and I mean very, unwilling to go home the following morning. She sulked and didn’t want to leave my arms, but I informed her I had to go to work. She begged me to take the day off and just lie in bed with her, but I insisted. I had to make love to her again with a promise to see her after work before she reluctantly agreed. I dropped her off at her place on my way to work. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 10:33pm On Nov 04, 2021 |
This is the final part. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 10:00pm On Nov 03, 2021*. Modified: 2:07pm On Oct 18, 2024 |
After I tucked her in, I tried to go back to sleep but found that I could not. I laid in bed staring at my phone for about an hour before I got up at around eight. Over the course of the morning and early afternoon I checked in on her, but she slept soundly and did not stir. I guess she was very exhausted. I watched a few soccer matches, ate, washed and dried her soiled sweatshirt, and at some point, drove to the grocery store to pick a few things. It was not until around four o’clock that I heard the door to the room she was slowly open. I was settled in front of the TV with my laptop within reach, and I peered over my shoulder as she slowly padded her way to the sitting room. Her hair was strewn all over the place, and her eyes were worn and bloodshot. At least she was stable on her feet. “Welcome back,” I teased her. She just murmured and plopped herself down on the second sofa adjacent to me. “How are you feeling?” I asked. “Like shît…” she replied woozily. I laughed at her response, to which she glared at me. “Are you down for some food? I prepared something for you.” “I don’t think my tummy can hold any food right now.” “Okay, at least drink something.” I got up and went to the fridge to pour her a glass of grape juice. I brought along some pain killers for the headache I was sure she suffered from. She swallowed the pills and drank from the glass. “So what possessed you to drink that much? It’s unlike you,” I asked. Yewande rubbed her temple. She was clearly hung over. “I’ll get you something to eat. It will help with your headache.” “I’m not hungry…” “Yewande,” I towered over her, “you have to eat, even if it’s a little. You drank on an empty stomach. That is bad. You need some food in your system.” She just groaned and leaned back. I walked to the kitchen and warmed some of the spaghetti and fish sauce I had prepared earlier in the day. I brought it to her and set it on the stool beside her. “Eat.” She peered at the food, sniffed it a bit, and took a few bites. I returned to my seat and watched her as she slowly ate. She finally pushed the empty plate away. I smiled at her. “So, you did finish it eventually.” She just muttered, and I laughed and focused my attention on the TV. For the next ten or so minutes, we did not say anything. I finally decided to ask her what was on my mind. “What possessed you to do that to yourself Yewande?” She had laid her head on the back of the sofa, and her attention was on the TV screen. She stared at me like she had no idea what I was talking about. I waited for her to respond, but when it was not forthcoming, I turned back to what I was doing. I was not going to force anything out of her, I told myself. She’s the one who came back. When she’s ready she’ll talk. Another half hour went by before she finally sat up. “You were the last person I expected to see that day at the party,” she began. She adjusted herself and sat cross-legged on the sofa. I pushed the lid of my laptop shut and set it aside. “Iffy told me there was a guy she wanted me to meet. I told her I was not interested and was not ready to meet any man. She had been trying to hook me up with someone ever since we became close and I told her I was not seeing anyone. I told her I did not want to meet anyone…not yet, anyways. I was enjoying my single life and I did not want to complicate it by having another relationship.” “You see, your…brother opened my eyes to how much I messed up. I talked to my sisters, my close friends, and every single one of them told me I messed up. That was why I reached out to you to apologize, but you threw my apology back in my face.” I opened my mouth to speak, but thought better of it. “What even hurt me the most,” she went on, “was when you told me never to call you again. That cut me really deep, but I should not have expected less. After that, I decided to move on. I went out with two other guys after then, but they did not work out.” “Your brother took my innocence. He took my virginity. He left me when I was very vulnerable. That was what the next guy I dated capitalized on. I did not want to lose him and did all what he asked me to do. He used my head and body and cast me aside like trash.” She twiddled her fingers absentmindedly and a tear rolled down her face as she stared off into space. I did not interrupt her and let her continue. Afterwards, she said, she stayed single for another year or two until she finished school, when she met another handsome guy during her service year. That one did not waste time in demanding sex be included in their relationship. She almost gave in to him, but her past experiences had wisened her up. When she kept on refusing, he “served her breakfast” so hot she still felt the effect of the burn. After that, she decided it was time she took an indefinite break and focus on herself. I just kept quiet and let her talk. In all honesty, it was a little bit difficult to concentrate on all what she said because my eyes kept glancing at her luscious brêasts which were literally hanging out of her camisole. She caught me staring at one time and glanced down at them for a moment, but she just pulled the strap that had fallen down her arm back in place and focused her gaze back to the distant point she was staring at. “On one of those days, I had a very scary dream. I was back in my room in school, and the entire building was on fire. Everyone had managed to escape except me. Each time I tried to move, something blocked me. You suddenly appeared outside the window and reached out to try and grab my arm, to pull me to safety. The building was about to collapse, you told me. I tried to reach your hand but I couldn’t. Your hand was millimeters away, and you said if I couldn’t reach you, I would not be able to make it. everything blacked out and I woke up screaming your name. I hadn’t thought about you in a very long time, and there you were as vivid as daylight in my dream. It was then I knew I had to seek your forgiveness if I wanted to move on.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffed. “The only problem was, I did not know where you were. This was almost three years after the last time we spoke...after you told me never to call you again. I went on my knees every day, begging God to please let me find you so I plead for you to forgive me and clear my conscience. I did not know it was going to be that hard. I did not know where to even start looking for you. I had all about given up hope… " “…and then the party, in another land…” I said. “…it was the last place I ever thought I would see you. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. All the things I had planned to say, to do if I ever saw you again just disappeared. I began to doubt myself. Maybe it was not really worth the stress I had put myself through all these years. But you then began to treat me like how you did back in school, and I became hopeful again. But then I began to detect your hesitation. You kept holding back. You finally proved all my doubts the other night.” “Proved what?” “That you still hold everything against me...that you never forgave me…and that hurt me real bad. All I want is your forgiveness. You may not want me anymore, and I understand that, but I just want you to forgive me. Only then will my heart and conscience be clear.” She fell silent, and I sighed. I glanced at the wall clock – she had been talking for the better part of an hour. That was a lot to get off her chest. It was a surprise she had carried the weight of that emotional scar for such a long time without breaking down. “What did I do wrong, ehn Yewande? Did I not show you how much I cared? Why him? Why my brother?” I asked. “I don’t know! I beat myself over that decision every single day! I still wonder why I made such a stupid decision.” “Yewande listen,” I said, cutting off her rambling, “honestly, I hold nothing against you. What happened, happened a long time ago. I will admit, I was not happy when you chose to go with my brother, but I hold no grudge against you. That was how it was supposed to be, and I came to accept it.” “But you still hold it against me.” “No, I don’t.” “Don’t lie to me DJ. Yes, you do.” “If I was still holding it against you, will you be here today? Would you be in my house? You wouldn’t.” She scoffed. “I wouldn’t? Of course, I know that. Do you know how long it took you to invite me? To show me where you lived?” Her voice rose a notch. “You were very reluctant to tell me where you lived. I offered to cook for you the other day, but it seems you’ve forgotten what you told me. I get it, you don’t want me back in your life, and I understand that very well. Just stop stringing me along like you care, knowing that you don't. Just stop holding me hostage emotionally!!” I flung my hands up in frustration. “I give up Yewande. Believe what you want. All I know is my mind is clear. I’ve forgiven you a long time ago. Maybe you just needed to hear it from me, and now you have. I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be out soon so I can take you home.” “You see what I’m saying? Now you want to get rid of me.” I groaned and left her sitting there. 1 Like |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 9:41pm On Nov 03, 2021*. Modified: 10:45pm On Oct 17, 2024 |
I did not see her for the next three weeks. I called several times, but her phone always went straight to voicemail. Her status and profile picture disappeared from her WhatsApp and I knew she had blocked me. I decided to give her time to come around, if she ever did decide to. Then very early one Sunday morning, she reappeared. The insistent ringing of the doorbell woke me up. Who could possibly be at my door this early? It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet. I tried to ignore it, but the persistent ringing finally got on my nerves. I jumped out of bed, cursing under my breath with a vow to give whoever it was a piece of my mind. I peered through the peephole and the sleep immediately cleared from my eyes. I unlocked the door, and Yewande in her grey Hello Kitty sweat shirt and pants barged past me without a single word. Her hair was dishevelled and I could detect a strong whiff of alcohol as she walked past me into the sitting room. She stood in the middle of the room, and after looking around for a few seconds, turned to face me. Her face was a mess. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she wobbled a bit. Clearly, she was drunk. It was unlike her to drink, and that was the first time I ever saw her plastered like she was. “Yewande,” I started in surprise, “Wha-what’s wrong? You’ve been drinking! When did you start getting drunk like this?” “Y-you made me like thish,” she said, her body swaying a bit from side to side. I quickly moved forward and grabbed her before she tripped over the table in her path. “Yewande, why?” She started crying. “Why are …you are so mean to me...” She began to heave and hurl, and I quickly led her to the bathroom. At the door she retched, and the entire contents of her stomach came gushing out of her mouth with explosive force. The strong reek of alcohol permeated the air. She fell to her knees and bent over the toilet bowl. Tears, snot and vomit spilled out of her eyes, nose and mouth. I rubbed her back gently as she puked her guts out in forceful eruptions. She finally exhausted herself and collapsed beside the toilet, a grimace of pain on her face. I lifted her up and pulled her to the sink, where she rinsed her mouth out with mouthwash and washed her face. Her sweatshirt was soaked with vomit. She looked a mess. “How much have you been drinking?” I asked. I flushed the toilet and pushed her gently out to the sitting room. “And why were you drinking in the first place?” “You caushed all of it…I don’t drink a lot…you caushed it…” I heaved a sigh. “You clearly cannot hold your alcohol. How much did you drink?” “Two bottlesh.” “Of what?” “Shtella Rosha Pink(Stella Rosa Pink)...” “And you’re smashed like this?” “Lee-me joor…” I helped her pull the soaked and smelly sweatshirt off her. She only had a simple camisole underneath. Her brêasts jutted out invitingly and bulged against the fabric. Her nîpples threatened to poke holes in the cloth. My hands itched in eagerness, but I controlled them and kept them in place. “Are you feeling better? Is your stomach now stable?” I asked. She nodded slowly, and grimaced. She could hardly stand, and I had to catch her again as she almost toppled over. I half carried, half dragged her to the spare bedroom. She lay on the bed and I covered her up with the duvet. “Try and get some sleep. We will talk when you are in a better state.” She looked up at me with her blurred gaze. Her eyes drooped a bit and she tried to get them to focus. I smoothened away a lock of hair that had covered her face. “Don’t leave me…” she murmured, her eyes slowly closing. My heart skipped a beat. “Rest a bit,” I said and left the room. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 9:35pm On Nov 03, 2021 |
I waited the customary two to three days before I called her. She was pleased to speak to me, and we chatted for some time. I asked her if she would like us to meet up somewhere, and she said yes. We met up at a café near her school bout an hour later. That’s how we spent the next couple of months. Over that time, I found out this was a different Yewande from the one I knew in school, the one I took care of, the one who “betrayed” me for my brother. She was more matured, more thoughtful, and much calmer, but the playful one I had loved back then still lurked somewhere in there. She sometimes came along to the tennis games with Iffy, who seemed pleased to see us hanging out together. I always told her we were just friends and nothing more. But there were times when I wanted to touch her, caress her face, and I realized those old feelings were beginning to re-emerge. I had to keep them in check; I did not want to betray my true emotions. Even though many years had passed, it was still Yewande - the same Yewande who betrayed me so many years ago. Several times I could feel her disappointment whenever I wanted to touch her, to hold her and I pulled away. I know she wanted me to, and it pained her to see me hesitate. One night, things came to a head. I had invited her to dinner at an expensive restaurant that evening. Why I decided to still amazes me till today. Maybe I was just trying to impress her, maybe I wanted to see how she still felt about me, maybe I just wanted to see her glow, which she did. She looked exceptionally beautiful and elegant in her simple black dress that evening, and I was sorely tempted to take her in my arms and kiss her. The dinner went very well. She was clearly impressed. She fit right in to the environment. Our conversation flowed easily over dinner. The look in her eyes told me a lot that night; she was happy to be with me again. She took a few pictures of us on her phone, and I could see the happiness written on her face. For the first time, that little girl I loved came out. We walked to the car after dinner, and when we got there, she turned to me. I knew she expected me to take her in my arms and kiss her, I could see that clearly in her eyes. My hand left her side and caressed her face. I traced her delicate jawline with my fingers. God knows I wanted to kiss her that night, but that image kept playing in my mind. She sensed my hesitation and just like that, the moment passed. “Seven years, and you still haven’t forgiven me,” she said sadly. “I’m sorry,” I replied. I opened the door for her and she got in. The drive to her place was full of silence. I tried to lighten the mood, but she just stared out of the window at the passing buildings. I eventually gave up and faced the road. We pulled up at the entrance of her building some time later. “Thanks for taking me to dinner,” she said and opened the door. “Yewande…”, but she had already got out and shut the door. I stared after her as she walked up the stairs and entered the building without once looking back. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 10:56pm On Oct 31, 2021*. Modified: 3:35pm On Nov 02, 2021 |
A couple of days later, Iffy called me at work, demanding to know how it went with Olaide…Yetunde, I mean. I told her it went quite well. She kept pushing for more information, but I told her nothing out of the ordinary happened. I just explained that I knew her way back in university, and she was just a younger sister to me. She then asked me what I thought about her. I told her she did describe her perfectly, and she would make a good girlfriend for someone, but sadly that person was not me. Iffy yelled and hollered at me over the phone, saying she could not believe what I was telling her. She was literally carving an easy path to the girl’s heart for me, and here I was balking at the opportunity. I didn’t want to tell her about everything that had happened between us in the past, so I told her I was sorry, but not interested. I did not want to dwell on those memories any more than I already had in the past day or two since our meeting. For the first time, Iffy cursed me out. In all honesty, Yewande was the last person I expected to reappear from my past. I still had not gotten over seeing her again after so many years, and it threw me off balance a bit, I must admit. She still had that cute baby face, but she seemed much more beautiful, refined, and poised. At least, those were the few things I could decipher in the few hours we spent at the party. She really did not talk much, only telling me she had been in Canada for about a year and was about halfway through her graduate program. Iffy was her course mate and they hung out together either in her parents’ house or mostly at her apartment. She did not tell me where she stayed, and I did not want to push for more information, being that we just met after such a long time. The following weekend, Charles and I decided to play a round or two of tennis. We had this “bet” going on between us where we each bet a hundred dollars on a game of three. Whoever won two games would put the hundred dollars into the pot. At the end of the year, we would then share the combined amount equally, regardless of who put in more money. We had these games every other Saturday depending on our schedule. That Saturday, I drove over to his place to pick him up for the game. When I got to his door, tennis racket in hand and bag slung over my shoulder, he told me the girls were on their way. They wanted to join us in the game. I saw no problem with that arrangement. About ten minutes later, we heard a car pull up outside and then a loud horn. I followed Charles out of the house and stopped briefly in my tracks. Behind the wheel of the gleaming Ford Explorer was Iffy. Sitting beside her in the passenger seat was none other than Yewande. Iffy yelled my name and waved frantically. I greeted her back, telling her she looked swell behind the wheel of her ride. I said hi to Yewande, and she responded with a smile and small nod. The two girls bundled themselves to the back and we guys took the front seats, with Charles driving. We arrived at the club about an hour later. At first, we paired up with we boys against the girls. It was soon evident that they did not know how to play as much as we did. After a while, Iffy complained about us cheating, and suggested we paired up guy-girl. She switched places with me, and Yewande became my partner. At first we lost two serves. Then I strictly began to target Iffy with the ball. Charles knew what I was trying to do, but each time Iffy, being the strong-headed girl she was, wanted to do it her way. I let Yewande have a go at her as well, and soon she began to loosen up and have fun. Each time she ran after the ball, I caught glimpse of her white boy shorts under the tennis skirt she had on. She moved elegantly, and after about an hour or so, we finally called it a game. Yewande and I had won by two games to one. She squealed in delight and gave me a hug, which caught me a bit by surprise. The way she jumped up and down as she hugged me, I almost saw that little girl of so many years ago. That brief body contact triggered my mind, and I wanted to hold her even closer. I quickly cleared my mind and dropped my hand which I realized I had rested on her lower back just above her skirt. We decided to have a few drinks after we had freshened up, so we all headed to the bar. I was not much of a drinker, so I ordered a Corona. Charles got a few bottles of his Heineken, while the girls each took a Pink Lady. The alcohol loosened their tongues, and soon both girls were giggling. None of us had eaten anything since breakfast, so the effect of the drinks on empty stomachs was quite more pronounced. We ordered a few bites which we consumed with our drinks. Much later, we all called it a great day. I had to drive as I only drank one bottle in accordance to my strict policy to drinking. Charles had taken like five bottles. Iffy was smashed. She had drunk about three glasses of the stuff. The only other person who seemed a bit okay was Yewande. I could tell she was tipsy, but she was not out of sorts. I finally pulled up to Charles’ place around seven. I deposited my gear into the trunk of my Lexus. I told Charles we would see at work. Iffy stumbled into the house. She was really drunk. I turned to Yewande, who stood there looking at her friend as she disappeared into the house. I asked her if she needed a ride home. She hesitated at first, then nodded. She dropped her gear on the back seat and hopped in beside me. The drive was quite nice. I guess the alcohol made her relax, as she was much freer with me this time around. I glanced over at her profile as we chatted; her hair blowing gently in the breeze coming in the window, her slim arms, the rise and fall of her chest in the pink shirt as she breathed, down to her smooth laps. I only gave her brief looks so as not to make her aware I was checking her out. She did really look good. It took me about forty-five minutes to get to her place – a small community not far from a university (which she later told me was where she attended). She had fallen silent along the way, and I saw she had dozed off. I drove to the front of her building and parked at the entrance. I looked at her a few more moments, taking in her features again before I gently shook her. She started, and looked around before composing herself. She thanked me for the ride. For some reason, she did not get down immediately. Her hand lingered on the door handle. I reached over and patted her shoulder, and told her it was nice seeing her again. She smiled back at me. I hesitated a bit, and then with my heart in my mouth, I asked for her number. I told her I would like to meet up with her sometimes and catch up. She looked at me for a long time, without a smile nor frown. I began to wonder if I shouldn’t have, but she then smiled briefly. She reached for my phone in the center console and dialed her digits, making sure it rang on her end before placing it back down. “Call me some time,” she said. She grabbed her gear from the back seat, smiled at me once more, before getting down and jogging up the stairs into her apartment complex. 2 Likes 1 Share |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 3:17pm On Oct 31, 2021 |
stanvesco:I'll post something either today or tomorrow. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 9:07pm On Oct 30, 2021 |
stanvesco:Thanks for the compliment...but these your accolades no too much so? I'm only but a humble writer of literature that touch the heart. stanvesco:It is not a real story, but it is based on people I know. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 5:41pm On Oct 28, 2021 |
“Yewande!” I blurted out. I was stunned. Yewande. After how many years? I didn’t know whether to hug her or just be casual, even though my heart was running laps in my chest. It was like a door to my past had been flung open. The last time I saw this girl was the day I invited her to my dad’s birthday. I remembered the betrayal I felt that night; her voice over the phone when she called me to apologize during my service year and how I told her to never call me again. All that was more than five years ago and in one fell swoop, they all came back. All these thoughts flooded my mind for a few seconds before I came back to reality. “Yewande…” I uttered again. “Dimeji…is...is it really you?” she said. Her eyes were wide as saucers. I didn’t know whether to hug her or play cool. I decided on the latter in order not to betray my feelings. “Yewande…” The armless, plunging V-neck African print jumpsuit she wore adorned her beautiful curves. A sharp glint of light reflected off the pendant of her necklace and drew my eyes to the inviting bulge of her smooth cleavage. A nice shade of red stained her wet lips. I felt my heart strings tug. “I see you guy’s have already met. You did not even wait to be introduced,” I heard Iffy say as she walked up to where we stood near the table. “Wait…you mean she’s your friend you wanted to introduce me to?” I asked in disbelief. “DJ is the guy you were telling me about?” Yewande asked almost at the same time. Iffy looked confused. “Dimeji? Yes, he’s the one I told you about. Do you know him?” She kept looking back and forth between the two of us. “Of course, I know him…” “Wait a minute, you said her name was Olaide…” I blurted. “Yes, her name is Olaide,” Iffy replied. I turned to Yewande, who just smiled back. “How do you know her?” “We attended the same university back home in Nigeria. I was…she was like a sister to me,” I said. “Ahh,” Iffy replied, her head nodding up and down with suspicious interest etched all over her face, “well then, it makes things easier for me. I’ll let you two catch up,” she smiled and left. I led her to our table. “Olaide?” I asked, confused. She didn't respond, but smiled slightly. Then it clicked. Her names WAS Olaide. Her middle name. I just didn’t remember because she seldom used it and everyone called her Yewande back home. I pull out a chair for her and she sat down ever so elegantly. It was true. She oozed class. I won’t lie, I was slightly intimidated. This was a different Yewande from the one I knew so many years ago. She looked entirely different. Her aura portrayed sophistication and style. She seemed more mature. I was tempted several times in the course of the night to caress her glowing skin, but I controlled myself. I did not know how she would react to me after so many years. Those old feelings I had buried long ago started to resurface. Finally, the party began to wind down. Very satisfied guests started to leave. Olaide…Yewande informed me she was calling it a night. I saw her off to the car park where I walked her to a small Toyota Corolla. I opened the door for her. “It was nice seeing you again Yewande,” I said. She smiled, and memories flooded back again. “It was nice seeing you again too Dimeji,” she responded. I hesitated, then leaned forward to give her a small hug. I felt the slightest of tenseness from her. I quickly took a step back and closed the door after she got in. “I hope to see you again sometimes…maybe catch up over coffee?” She stared at me for a moment before starting her car up. “Maybe,” she responded. I watched the glow of her tail-lights as she slowly drove out of the parking lot. It was only then I realized I hadn’t asked for her number. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 2:35pm On Oct 28, 2021 |
valirex:Congratulations on this great achievement. I'll make sure you get nominated for the Nobel Prize. I'm done talking to you. 1 Like
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| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 9:27pm On Oct 27, 2021 |
elijahtemitope:Yewande is the titular girl in the story. The one who ditched Dimeji for his brother. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 9:10pm On Oct 27, 2021 |
jiboladhino:Thank you very much. I'll try post the next update as soon as I can. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 8:52pm On Oct 27, 2021*. Modified: 9:09pm On Oct 27, 2021 |
Overtime Charles and I became very close, and he introduced me to his two younger sisters. I had learned a long time ago that you don’t date your friend's sister(section 3, article 1, paragraph 2 of the bro code), so I was very careful with the way I related to them, especially the younger one since she seemed the very friendly and carefree type. They were all born and grew up in Canada. Stella (the older sister) worked for a real estate agency as a realtor, while Ifeyinwa (or Iffy as everyone called her) was a graduate student in her final semester. She once told she had a very pretty Nigerian classmate who she would like me to meet as I had no girlfriend. Olaide was her name, she said, and we would both look very good together. I told her that though I appreciate her thoughts and efforts into my love life, I was not interested at that point in time. She laughed it all off, and said she would arrange a meeting between us. Meanwhile, the three of them had been making plans to celebrate their mum’s 65th birthday in a grand way. As per Charles being my close padi, I helped in every way I could. I was quite good with Photoshop and graphics design, so I designed the invitation cards, and even volunteered to pay for them to be printed. I also chipped in a couple hundred Canadian Dollars for them to reserve a grand hall for the event, and caterers were brought in for the food. A very popular Nigerian MC was invited to handle the event. On the afternoon of the party, Charles and I did some last-minute run arounds. The DJ was already set up and was testing his equipment. The chairs and tables had been set up and were adorned with exquisite tablecloths and fine silverware. They didn’t spare any expense. Everywhere was set. Iffy had told me earlier that Olaide was going to be there, and she looked forward to introduce us. She warned me she knew there would be other pretty girls around, but I dare not disappoint her friend. In fact, she had placed us both at the same table. I still laugh to this day at how she eagerly tried to match me up with her friend. I joked with her that I hoped her friend was up to my high standards, and she told me she exceeded them. She had never met a girl with such class and style, and it was up to me to impress her, she warned. I told her I would do my best. The hall filled up gradually as guests arrived and took their seats at their assigned tables. People were dressed to the nines. The DJ had already begun to drop beats. He clearly knew his craft. I saw a couple of people from the office at other tables and waved. Just as Iffy said, there were several pretty girls of different nationalities who were invited. I'm sure she caught me once or twice admiring them. The servers started dishing out the appetizers, and the soon the celebrant and her husband danced into the hall with their entourage. The MC began his thing, and soon he had the Nigerian half of the gusts laughing their heads off with his jokes. A few of the other guests got the gist and chuckled politely along. About an hour into the party, Iffy’s friend has still not arrived. I wasn’t really bothered though, as I had only agreed to it just so she got off my neck. Who knew, I may even like the girl, I thought. I felt a bit pressed from the two drinks I had already taken, so I stood up to use the restroom. As I got back to my seat, a couple of arriving guests walked into the hall. One particular lady among them caught my attention and made me pause. There was something very familiar about her that I could not lay my finger on. I couldn’t see her face as she had turned and bent over to talk to a few of the earlier girls at a table. Someone must have said something funny because when she laughed, my body froze. No - it couldn’t be. So many years had passed, but I could recognize that laugh anywhere. She stood back up and drew her bangs back behind her ear; I finally saw her face. My heart lurched in my chest - I was speechless. She turned and headed in my direction. She must have felt my gaze because she looked up and our eyes met. The smile on her face disappeared; her eyes grew wide and she stumbled on her heels. Her clutch fell from her hand and tumbled to the floor. She was not more than ten feet from me. I still do not know how, but I somehow managed to close the distance between us. She covered her mouth with both hands as she stared at me in disbelief. “Di…” she gasped. She could not complete my name. It was as if this moment bridged the gap in time for the previous several years. I could not believe my eyes who was standing in front of me. I had to pinch myself to be sure. I finally found my voice after several seconds. “Yewande!” I blurted out. 1 Like |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 8:42pm On Oct 27, 2021 |
Almost an hour later, I withdrew from her wetness. The eruption was forceful and profuse – thick jets of hot semen burst forth from me and streaked across her belly. She immediately grabbed me and jerked me off, shuddering uncontrollably as her body was decorated with spurt after spurt of creamy appreciation. She milked me of every ounce of salty goo until I was spent. Her tummy received the majority of my spunk, and as the spurts subsided she gathered some with her fingers and played with it, and even brought some to her mouth to taste. We both smiled at each other. I walked over to the kitchen area for some paper towels she pointed out, which I then used to clean up the liquefying mess I had made on her body. We both knew there was no way we were going to continue with our work, so we decided to call it an evening and finish up when we resumed back to school. Fadziso and I met up for casual sex regularly from then on. We kept our school studies separate from our romance life. Most of the time we met up in her place as she was closest to school, but other times she would come to mine. I had already moved into a small basement apartment about a ten minutes’ drive from school. I had also just recently got myself a small car. It was quite old in terms of number of years, but the lady I bought it from had pretty much taken good care of it, so it was quite reliable and took me around without much issues. We were not dating in the real sense of the word – it was more like a “friends with benefits” arrangement. We did hang out a lot together in school and whenever I was not on shift at the school cafeteria or with one of the professors that hired me as a teaching assistant, and I always made sure I gave her the best effort I could whenever we ended up in bed, which by that time was fairly regularly. On one of such days, she confessed to me that the way I handled her each time we had sex reminded her of her boyfriend back home in Zimbabwe. I was mildly surprised she had a boyfriend. She confessed to me that she had someone back home whom she had been dating for about three years. He worked as a lawyer in the office of one of the top senators in her country, and was also into importing of vehicles from the neighboring United States to sell back home since he had so many contacts. They did talk almost every other day, and they planned to get engaged once she returned from her studies. I asked her what she was doing with me when she already had a man, and she just shrugged. She said she knew even before she left Zimbabwe that she was going to have an affair, and she just wanted to experience it one last time before settling down. What she had no foreseen was how good the sex was going to be. It was at par, or even better, than what she had with her man, and he was no novice in bed. She apologized for not telling me sooner, but the sex we had was so good, she was afraid I would end it if she had. I was the only other man who made her achieve multiple òrgasms during sex. She said she was sorry for making me feel as if she was just using me to satisfy her sex urges. I told her I was not upset or anything, only that I would have appreciated it if she had told me earlier. I also said as long as she doesn’t decide one day to quit cold-turkey, we can continue having all the fun we wanted with no strings attached. We continued our sex relationship for the rest of our graduate program, even up to a few weeks after we graduated. Her journey back home was coming fast, and a few days to when she was to leave for Zimbabwe, we took a trip together to Niagara Falls where we spent a few days sightseeing and enjoying each other’s company for the last time. Our final night together was intense. For the first time she said she wanted us to fûck raw. That was quite surprising as she had always insisted I use a condom on her. Anytime we had sex. It was like she wanted to leave a mark on me to remember her by. She was insatiable and voracious in our love making. I had to work very hard to keep up with her intensity, and at a point I was so carried away I did not notice the tears pouring down her face. Each twist of her delicate waist brought me closer and closer to òrgasm, and when I finally crested my peak, she wrapped her legs tightly around my waist and begged me to cum inside her. Another surprising first. Her strong legs held me in place and I groaned and burst gallons inside her. A few days later, I saw her off to the airport. I hugged and kissed her for the last time before she departed. After Fadziso, left, I didn’t have anyone to hang around with, so I spent most of my time at home watching TV or surfing the internet for jobs. My dad told me not to come back home to Nigeria as there was nothing worth coming home to. He would rather I stayed back and worked on my permanent residency. I had by now been in Canada for about two years, and with my masters’ degree, it was easy for me to get a Post-Graduation Work Permit. It was just getting the job that was the challenge. I eventually got one after applying and searching for about two months. This gave me an opportunity to gain the required work experience to qualify for my permanent residence. My boss was a pretty decent guy, and he was patient enough to teach me the main aspects of my duties. I worked with him for the next year and a half, before he was transferred to another branch of the company to head a division. He had trained me enough to be able to work on my own, and my new boss saw me as an indispensable asset to his team. The pay was quite decent too. I was able to upgrade from the basement apartment I lived into a much better one-bedroom apartment in a very nice neighborhood. I also sold my old junker I had driven during my graduate studies and replaced it with newer model Lexus RX350. I met a couple of other Nigerians over the next several months, and one of them happened to be Charles. We worked in the same building but on different floors. He was part of the IT department. I met him in the break room one day. I had run into him a couple of times but never knew he was from Nigeria. He told me that day he knew I was Nigerian, even Yoruba. I asked him how he knew that, and he said it was from the way I talked. He had spent most of his life in Canada as he was born here, but had spent a few years in Nigeria when he was younger before deciding the hustle and bustle was too much for him. We became fast friends, and occasionally hung out together. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 8:06pm On Oct 27, 2021 |
valirex:Pissed? Who's getting pissed? I won't even dignify your comment with a response. elijahtemitope:No vex please. It's not my intention to leave people hanging and waiting for updates. I have so many commitments in terms of work and family, so I post as often as I can. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 2:16pm On Oct 27, 2021 |
valirex:And if you had been patient like I said instead of running your mouth like you just did, you would have realized I have been fairly consistent with my post. Not everybody lives on Nairaland like others do, and I do not bombard readers with everything at once. So please take a chill pill and don't lecture me. I have a reason for writing this story the way I am, and if you are not happy about it, then you can stop reading. I'm going to drop another long one today. 1 Like |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 6:06pm On Oct 22, 2021 |
Ordinarybob:Patience dude, patience. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 12:50am On Oct 22, 2021 |
“You have a gorgeous díck. I want to taste your cúm.” Fadziso said seductively, her slippery hands stroking me gently. She slapped my meat against her saliva-coated jowls, and then devoured it again. She sucked very hard and massaged my balls. I was getting pretty close at that point, but I desperately wanted this to last. She stopped for a second and pulled her shirt off over her head. She unsnapped her bra and her títs spilled out. Her nípples were big and hard. Her areolas were dark, the size of quarters. I sat up and cupped each in my hands, squeezed them together and teased her erect nípples. “Fadziso, please let me suck your bòòbs” I begged. She shook her head and slapped my hands away. “No way. Just sit back and relax.” I was in no mood to argue. I laid back on the couch and Fadziso leaned over me. Her bréasts dangled over my díck, and she shook them and slapped it with them a few times. She pulled them apart, wrapped them around it, and squeezed them back together. It was still wet from her sucking, so it easily slipped in and out between them, her saliva and sweat providing sufficient lubrication. She gasped in pleasure as I thrust slightly and she continued sucking while it slid between her bréasts. She only put about two inches into her mouth, sucking the head very hard, and used her bòòbs to jerk me off. I began to moan as I felt my balls tighten. Fadziso moved her mouth faster, and suddenly her teeth grazed the head. That sent me over the edge. “OH FADZISO, I’M ABOUT TO ERUPT!!!!” I groaned. Fadziso immediately released me from her bòòbs and wrapped her lips tightly around me. Her hand gripped the base and made circular jerking motions. I scrambled to my feet and moaned as I exploded with a vengeance. I gripped my díck with one hand and emptied my balls all over her cheek and in her mouth. It felt like the largest load I had ever released, but she kept sucking, jerking, gobbling down everything. Wave after wave of jizz spewed into her mouth, and finally I could see a thick gob of it running out the corner of her mouth down her chin through the haze that was my vision. When my òrgasm subsided, she took her mouth off me. She licked and sucked me clean, making sure to get the stuff she didn't take in the first time. I was in a daze...sweat dripped down my brow even though I had barely moved from the sofa. “Did you enjoy that?” Fadziso asked as she kissed my díck and stroked it softly. “Yeah I did. Where have you been all my life?” I gasped. Fadziso got off her knees and sat beside me. She reached over and and kissed me. I could taste my salty cúm mixed with her saliva. I stood up in front of her with my softening manhood swinging. “It’s your turn now” I said to her smiling face. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 12:49am On Oct 22, 2021 |
After a few hours we were able to get a lot accomplished. We decided to take a short break. Fadziso refreshed my drink and invited me to the sitting room. I sat on the small sofa and surprisingly, she sat very close to me. As it was a hot summer afternoon, I was wearing a pair of shorts and shirt. Our bodies barely touched and I glanced down at her smooth, dark laps. I was really tempted to run my palms over her smooth skin, but forced myself not to. We talked about things and nothing in general. As we chatted on I realized that Fadziso was actually a really nice girl. Her father was a top executive in a bank in Zimbabwe. Her mum worked in one of the federal parastatals. She had an older brother who was a medical doctor. She just talked on and on. I realized this was a girl who didn’t have any friends to talk to...I could hear the loneliness in her voice and realized she was glad she had someone to speak to. By now it was about 5pm, and the sun through the windows was hot. Fadziso's skin was glistening in the heat, and her shirt was sticking to her body. The AC in the building had been shut down for maintenance, and the fan did not help matters much. Her bréasts rose and fell with every breath. We were sitting sideways on the sofa, facing each other. My eyes darted from her eyes to her bréasts, to her cròtch, and back again. I hardly heard what she said and even if she noticed, she never let on that she did. To this day I never could tell most of what she Fadziso talked about, but in my mind, I knew I was fantasizing about her, slowly undressing her, and before I knew it I was rock hard. My díck was strained to get out of my shorts, and I was unaware how visible it was. Fadziso saw the bulge in my shorts and slid closer till out legs touched. “You seem kinda…distracted.” she said, peering at it intently. She placed her hand gently on my lap and leaned towards me. I closed my eyes and our lips men in a slow, soft kiss. She pulled back and looked me in the eyes. I could see raw desire in hers. She placed her other hand behind my head and came to me again, and we both kissed each other hard and passionately. Her palm caressed my bulge tenderly, slowly slipping her hand under the loose hem of my shorts and into my boxers, her fingers lightly teasing the underside of my hardness and running the tips along the bottom of his shaft in a slow, gentle caress. I moaned in response. Our kiss got deeper and deeper, and Fadziso made a loose ring with her thumb and fingers and ran it up and down the length of my shaft, giving it a couple gentle full-handed pumps that sent waves of pleasure through my body. I slid my hand underneath the back of her t-shirt and rubbed her back. She slowly pulled her hand out of my shorts and stared at me with dazed and lusty eyes She lifted off my shirt and kissed my chest, sucked on my nípples before returning to my mouth. I moved my hand around to the front of her shirt and felt her bréasts through her bra. I kneaded and squeezed them, pinched her nípples between my fingers, and a gasp of pleasure escaped her lips. Suddenly Fadziso unlocked her lips and stood up. For a moment I thought she had come to her senses, but she got down on her knees between my legs. She unzipped my shorts and lifting my hips, she slid them down to my ankles. She pulled down my boxers roughly, and my díck sprung out and almost slapped her in the face. She took it in her hands and stroked it lovingly. Fadziso smiled into my eyes and I saw a girl consumed by desire. I could only watch as she buried her face into my balls, tonguing me, licking me, sucking each in her mouth before releasing them out with a pop. She slowly dragged her tongue up my shaft and sucked it hungrily like a long-denied popsicle, looking deep into my eyes as she did. I could tell I was about to get the best head of my life, and Fadziso never looked better than she did right now with my meat in her warm hands. She let some spit drop from her gaping mouth, and used it to moisten it. She plunged down slowly and inch by inch she took me into her mouth. I watched in awe as my nearly entire seven inches disappeared. She pressed her lips even tighter around me as she slid back up, her lips sucking the head and making me gasp in pleasure. 1 Like |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 12:43am On Oct 22, 2021 |
My first semester was tough. I got to learn that schooling in the western world is a totally different ballgame than what we did in Naija. It was not the “cram and pass” or “read the handout” that we were used to. One had to learn the material and apply it to everything. Things as simple as assignments counted towards your final grade. Courses were not based on final exams alone; you had to pass every single quiz, test, homework, and project you were given. You had to be on your toes as even a single bad score could be the difference between passing and failing. It didn’t help that as graduate students, you were held to a higher standard than undergraduates. If you fell below a certain GPA, you automatically get on probation. It also did not help that as an international student, one had to maintain status with a full course load. The professors did not care if you had other classes you were taking; you had to do the work. Most of my time was spent in the library or labs working on one assignment, project, reading for a test, or going through material for a class. I managed to have a respectable grade-point-average that first semester. It wasn’t easy, but I managed it. I vowed to put in more effort the next semester. I strategized how I would spend my time to more effect. I reached out to other students in my department who had taken most the courses, and they advised me on which professors to avoid, and those who’s courses were the easiest to pass. It was during this period I met Fadziso. She was from Zimbabwe and an international student like me. She was in two of my three classes. I had seen her around the department the semester before, but I didn’t know she was a graduate student. We sat next to each other in one of our classes one day and when the professor told us all to pair up in groups, she naturally turned to me as we were the only Africans in the class. She wasn't really that pretty. In fact, she was quite plain. Don’t get me wrong, she was not ugly. Far from it. She just was not the type of girl that turned heads. Tall, just a head shorter than my 6 feet 2 inches, her only redeeming qualities were that she had a pretty decent body, and fantastic lips - full and pouty. She also had a hearty laugh and smile. Other than that, she was just plain Fadziso. We often studied together for the two classes we were in, and I also gave her the materials for her third class since it was one of the classes I took during my first semester. She shared an apartment with one other girl about five minutes’ walk from campus, and she often brought food for us to eat together in the graduate lab. It so happened that one of our professors gave us all a project to do which was due by the next class meeting. Fadziso naturally paired up with me. We agreed we would meet on campus for a few hours that Saturday. I got down from the bus and walked towards the department. I was surprised to find the entire building locked. Even the library was shut, which was quite unusual. It was then I realized it was a holiday weekend, as there was a public holiday the following Monday. Miffed at myself, I called Fadziso to inform her of the circumstances. She told me it was okay, that I could come over to her place instead. She met me at the door and invited me in. She informed me her roommate had gone home for the long weekend, so we had the entire apartment to ourselves. She led me inside and I took a quick look around. While the furnishings weren't expensive or fashionable, they were nice and clean and made the place feel very homely. She asked if I would like a drink and I accepted with thanks. As she went to the fridge I could barely take my eyes off her. She wore a pair of gym shorts, and a white slightly low V-neck t-shirt which was just as close-fitting. I never realized how round her bòòbs were, but I definitely noticed how they bounced as she strode across the sitting room floor. They pushed against the fabric of her shirt, the outlines of her bra very evident. She opened the fridge and bent over to get the drink from the bottom shelf, and my eyes must have bulged out of their sockets when I saw the bottom of her ass cheeks sticking out ever so slightly from her shorts. “Deejay, are you okay?” Her voice snapped me out of my trance. “Oh sorry, I-I’m fine.” She looked at me suspiciously. “Oookay, ‘cos the way you’re staring at me is kinda strange.” “Sorry. I’m just a bit tired from the sun.” “Here, have your drink. It will make you feel better.” I reached out to take the glass proffered and our fingers briefly touched. I looked at her and our eyes met. My eyes lowered briefly to her cleavage which was slightly exposed. They stayed there for a few seconds before returning to her face, where I noticed she was looking at me warily. I quickly raised the glass to my lips and downed the cool drink before she grew more suspicious. Fadziso led me to the dining table and we started studying. It was tough, especially with the way she kept leaning over to see what I was explaining as her shirt kept falling open and I kept stealing glances down at her bréasts mashed up on the table, but I managed to focus and concentrate on the task at hand. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 12:41am On Oct 22, 2021 |
The rest of my service year grinded on, and before I knew it, it was time for passing out. The one year I spent as a corper in Enugu taught me a lot of things and opened my eyes to a different culture. I was really going to miss everything. It was a great experience I had – from the not too bright students I taught in the secondary school, to my fellow corpers, the isi-ewu and stout at the local bars at night, and most importantly, my times with Adaego. I would we had sex at least three times a week all through the rest of my time in Enugu. She just couldn’t get enough of it and she worshipped her “pet” at every opportunity she could. It got to a point I couldn’t handle her high sexual energy and I had to drink a lot of local herbs to keep up with her insatiable appetite. Sadly, like Nelly Furtado sang, “All good things come to an end”. She resumed her course at the University of Port Harcourt a few weeks before I finished my service year. As a farewell, we spent the whole of one CDS day screwing ourselves senseless. She was practically weeping that day, telling me that I had shown her how great a lover I was, and that she would really miss our sexcapades. I tried to hold in my emotions as well, but still felt a huge knot in my throat that day. Before she left, she grabbed me and gave me a very long kiss. I told her I would someday pay her a visit in her school once I settled down back at home. After I got back to Ibadan, I spent the next week resting before I started looking for a job. It was like looking for a needle I a haystack – almost impossible. I reached out to my previous employers whom I worked for shortly before I started my service year, but they told me they did not have any full-time positions but they would call me if anything small came up. From time to time, they would give me something to do. Around that period, I got a position as a marketer in Zenith Bank. I would spend several hours in the hot sun looking for people to open accounts. I did all this for the next year or so, until when I decided I had enough. Rather than waste my energy looking to bring in millions for a bank who only paid a petty sum, I would rather further myself. I “dusted off my pali” and started applying to further my education. I got in touch with my former roommate who was by then in Canada, and he gave me several tips on how to apply to different schools there. With my good results, I was eventually able to secure an admission to study for my masters. I left the shores of Nigeria for Canada at the tail end of 2015. Coming from a polar extreme climate, one would think I should have done some research into the weather before leaving. I just wore a plain polo-shirt and jeans, feeling fly and on top of the world. I almost ran back into the plane upon landing in Canada. It was freezing cold!!! My hands had already started to go numb even before I cleared customs and immigration. Luckily, my hosts were already waiting outside and they ushered me to the warmth of their home about an hour’s drive away. |
| Family › Re: Have You Ever Had An Odd Guest? (my experience) by metalgear11(m): 5:45pm On Oct 20, 2021 |
I remember when I was still young, this was sometimes in 1998. My dad had been appointed as the sole administrator(i.e. chairman) of one of the local governments in our state under the then military administration. You know how some of these our old Yoruba elders can be sometimes - because one of their "sons of the land" is in a government position, they feel so entitled. This old man (I hear he has been late for a while now) usually came to our house almost every other day to see my dad. My pale man would give him some money, only for him to come again about three days later. This man will just siddon balance for our sitting room like he owned the place. There was a day my dad went to his station. He left around 7am. About 30 minutes later, this man came sauntering in. My dad had a few days earlier given my grandmum(may her soul rest in peace) some money to give this man, and here he was again. We told him dad was not at home as he had traveled and would not be back until very late, thinking he will go away as everyone was already fed up of him. Na so this man balance for chair, and sat there until my dad came back around 10pm. Immediately my dad came in and saw him - I guess he must have been very exhausted from his travels - he told the man to come with him and they marched out of the house. He later told us he lodged him in a guest house somewhere. This went on until the end of my dad's tenure. That's when the old man's visits stopped. Our very next door neighbor(who coincidentally was also from the same hometown as my dad) was appointed shortly after as the director of the satellite campus of one of the universities. It was not long afterwards that we started seeing this same old man going over there and repeating the act he did with us. Not even a shameful bone in his body. He didn't even think we would see him there, or he may not have cared. 8 Likes 1 Share |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 7:01pm On Oct 18, 2021 |
valirex:Patience bro. I'll upload the next one soon. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 2:30am On Oct 18, 2021 |
valirex:The current story? Of course it hasn't finished. It's still ongoing. |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 10:30pm On Oct 17, 2021 |
valirex:If it is the "Taming the rich man's daughter" story, yes, it was just a 2 part story. Kiddogarcia:Which ones to be precise? And sexual harassment bi ti bawo? |
| Romance › Re: I Want Her, But Can't Get The Image Of Her In Another Man's Arms Out Of My Head by metalgear11(op): 8:20pm On Oct 17, 2021 |
sterlingD:I finished that story. It wasn't a long one. |
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