charix:

Only in their fantasies.


With the way I've seen Nigerian females chastize their highly sexually active counterparts I know very well the average man who pays for prostitutes has a way higher body count than the average Nigerian female.
Most Nigerian females have at most a four man body count. Come to think of it, if you told me the story written in the original thread face to face I'd easily pick out all the lies.

Are u talking based on your own generalization or based on facts, believe it or not most ladies are hyper sexually active. It's just either of these

1. Most ladies need an excuse to have sex, the excuse is usually , if and when I have a boyfriend then I can have sex, which is not really different from someone who has no boyfriend but has sex nonetheless.

2. And our society/cultural understanding. A gal could probably have had more than a 100 body count and you ll never know cos she ll never tell,,,,,

So what are we saying

STFUareyouG0d:
How do you mean 'Manage'?

Reading it, I believe it's written in arabic

STFUareyouG0d:
I read both sir. For knowledge

How do you manage the Quran

OBTSubtle:
Atleast you weren't disvirgined in primary school

At least

charix:
Did not read.
Next time attach your source. I know very well this is no Nigerian female's experience.

Well believe it or not, most nigerian ladies are even more sexually active than you guys,,,, what do you think,, that sex was made for only men

I was chatting with a guy and he asked for my body count(whatever that is) I gave him my answer and he just couldn't believe it. Thanks to the anonymity of nairaland, I ll be able to share some of my stories....,


DAVID

I really can't remember my age when it happened but I was very young cos I was still playing hide and seek with the guys in the neighborhood. my body was already budding and I had a tiny boil like thing growing on my chest, something you people call breast.

Anyway I quickly noticed David loved hiding with me, it was innocent at first but one day as we played hide and seek, me and David hiding in the exact same spot, he got close to me and began to gently rub my ass, I slapped his hand off at first but then he continued so I let him.

Truth is I liked the way my body tingled as he moved his hand round my ass, I drew close to him and pretended I didn't know what was happening all the while enjoying that feeling. I have never felt that way before as he moved his hands to my lap and rubbed my thigh. I wanted to hold him, to rub him just the way he was rubbing me but I stayed still fearing that he might stop.

Over many hide and seek games, I and David would go to our spot and I ll pretend not to know what was happening as he rubbed my ass and prodded my thighs, soon he started to touch my tiny breast but I ll slap his hands off. Not cos I didn't like it but cos I was scared. I quickly learnt that, you can be scared and be totally unaware of what you are scared off.

David and his family left the neighborhood and I never saw him again. The rubbing and prodding stopped.



CALEB
Nothing happened till I got to jss3, I was already fully developed and a close friend with caleb, a guy i shared a desk with. Most parents lock their children inside for fear of them getting promiscuous forgetting that majority of the child's life is spent in school.

It all started with us holding hands as we head over to the school cafeteria, he would buy this GSM juice drink and we would share it, laughing and patting ourselves.

My body was literally a walking pile of sexual tension waiting to explode, I would gently rub my breast on caleb's shoulder hoping he'll get the message. when no one was watching, I would lie on his shoulder, squeeze his hands and sniff his neck but he did nothing.

Then one day some S S 3 students came into our class and ordered us to put our heads on our desk and sleep, the teachers were having a meeting.

We did as we were told, about 10 mins into the fake sleep I felt caleb's hand on my lap, my heart started to really beat fast, 'don't stop' I said in my mind. Caleb slid his hands into my skirt and rubbed my laps, he was going further than David ever did, almost touching the spot where my thighs met.

But it seem lik his hand couldn't just reach that spot no matter how hard he tried so I shifted forward in my chair making it easier for him, all this while I was still pretending to be asleep. My slight movement made him remove his hand but then after about 3 mins he started again, massaging my thighs, going further, into my skirt and this time he was able to reach that spot, the moment he touched and stroked my vg, it was like I was slapped on the face with something marvelously hot. My excitement was crazy, and my legs felt so light, as he stroked I couldn't pretend anymore, I shifted forward again and held his hand in as he made to bring it out.

He kept rubbing, touching what I came to later discover was my clit. He was clumsy but it was exciting, it something I can't describe, all I know was my thighs were really hot and I was beginning to get really wet and I didn't want him to stop. It took every iota of nerve in me not to moan.

My advise to parents out there is instead of acting lik angry gods at home,locking them in and shit, draw ur children close and communicate with them.




JIDE

Caleb and I never went past the thigh rubbing experience, in fact that was the only time we did something like that. It's was a closely watched private school. Anyway I left the school and started a government school from SS1 TO SS3.

For 2 years I was angry with my parents for sending me to a government school not just understanding the concept of my dad loosing his job. They are my parents and ought to give me the best no matter what.

As a result, I kept to myself and became fully introverted keeping to my romance novels and solving maths questions. But that was until I met Jide, Jide is the first and only guy I know who reads romance novel and the way he talks is just so attractive.

Soon it became a habit that I'll dodge classes and head over to our school cassava farm, lay on his legs as he reads out romance upon romance scenes to me. It was a fantasy, a fantasy I loved even than food. Needless to say, he asked me out and I accepted, my first boyfriend.

When we eventually kissed in that cassava farm I knew I would always want to be kissed, the pleasure was so much to no want more.

On several occasion we would kiss but then I ll slap his hands off as he tried to touch my breasts. Guys can do anything to touch a breast, it's like their whole life depends on a breast. Jide would go into a lot of theatrics just to touch my breast and one day I let him.

That day, we were kissing in the cassava farm as usual and he moved his hands to my breast, I let him, so he squeezed gently, the pleasure was crazy. I pulled the first two of my button and unclipped my bra, something I hadn't don't before, he took this as an invitation and I could see the excitement in his eyes, there are two sure ways women have power over men, one is SEX, the second one is FOOD, and one of my stupid frnd would say sex is food.

I let my breast fall bare and moaned as he squeezed, he pinched my nipples and I moaned even more, I couldn't lie still so I climbed on top of him while he kept rubbing my breats.

It was really easy to be on him as I was wearing this really big Ballon skirt. I do not know what I was doing bit I knew I started grinding on him by impulse. When I could take the pleasure anymore, I planted my breast and his face and he took one nipple in his mouth, it was at that moment everything went crazy.

As he suckered my nipples, fire jolted through my body and sent springs of wetness to my thighs, I moaned louder than ever, not caring for whoever was going to hear me. I raised my skirt even hiigher, pull down his Zipper and began stroking his dick with my inner thigh, grinding as his dick came in contact with my vg. He was very hard and I was vibrating with all the sexual emotion running through me like wildfire.

The more I grinded on his dick the more I wanted him inside me, I stood up and pulled of my pant. It's crazy, I have never been sexually active but here I was pulling of my pant while Jide was on the ground, he must probably be thinking the kind of wild girl I am.

But I didn't care, all I wanted was to do something about this emotions, I pulled of my pant in that cassava field and climbed on top of him. The moment his dick touched my inner thigh I knew heaven and hell was mixing one mighty juice down there as I was so wet.

I kept grinding slowly, rubbing the edge of my pussy on his dick, it was sweet pleasure, if only I was a good enough writer to describe that feeling, but you know as they say, the best things are better not spoken. As I grinded, Jide turned so he was on me and started to rub his dick round my pussy lips, heaven is real, I know cos I felt it that day, all my inside churned with a hunger dt made my stomach.

That was all we ever did, rubbing and grinding. I was never brave enough to take him in, I heard the first time iS always painful,,, even though it eventually was painful, Jide was not brave enough to take me.


MOSES
He was a romance story that could have been but never was. He wanted love, I wanted someone that would suck my breastS and drive me wild, in the end we became just good friends.



Dan

Think of any bad guy you know, now multiply his badness by 3 , what you get is Dan. I met him after my WAEC in a wild birthday party. I was wearing a bum short and white singlet, how I got to the party is an interesting story for another day.

I hit the dance floor and started dancing, lik I said it was a wild party, the dance floor was almost dark and slutiness was everywhere, it was in the music, in the dancing, and even in the drinks. As I danced, Dan came behind me and started rocking

If I swing my hips to the left, he ll do the same, we danced in synchronization and soon I started to feel the sexual tension between us. He held my hips and planted my ass directly on his crotch. I could feel his bulginess and I knew I shld have stopped that moment and walked out of the dance floor but I just wanted to see how far he would take it.

I kept dancing while he dick kept getting bigger, he didn't seem to care, soon instead of holding my hips he was holding caressing navel. No one had ever caressed my navel, and the feeling was really great, I kept dancing, suddenly he gabbed my hand and led me off the dance floor into one of the rooms in the compound, he started kissing me immediately without saying a word..,

I pushed him off and just stared at him, he stared too then he started to walk towards me, very slowly but with the cofidence of a man who knew what he wanted. Slowly he planted a kiss on my lips and I kissed him back and in dt moment we became two wild animals, lost in the sheer lust of the moment, he kissed me with more force almost brute like cavemen but it sent fires down my spine, I clawed my finger into his back and he groaned. It was an unspoken agreement, we would be wild and so it was.

He tore off the white singlet I was wearing and yanked my bra off. I didn't care or bother, I clawed deeper into his skin as I pulled him close, raising one of my legs and wrapping it round him as I savored the taste of his lips on mine. We kissed for what must have been lik a moment lost in an infinite loop of eternity. I was out of breath by the time he planted his lips on my breast. Moving his tongue round the base of my breast, he created circular paths with his tongue while one of his free hand moved slowly to my thighs.

I patted my legs slightly to give him dt space and the assurance dt I love what he was doing, he slid into my pant and covered my pussy with his hands, cupping it as if it was a scoop of ice cream. He pressed his hands on my clit and held it there not moving while he continued to slowly suck my breast all the while not even touching my nipples.

My stomach rose with anticipation, my nipples ached to be touched, I pushed he head to my nipple but he would touch it, I couldn't take this torture anymore.

I pulled down his Zipper and then his trousers with as much force as I could muster and grabbed his dick with a brute Ness that made him wince, I began to stroke.

When he eventually planted his tongue on my nipples, I went crazy. My legs turned jelly and moaned Lik I have never done before. He sucked my nipples just as he was rubbing my clit. Dan is a master.

After 2 or 3 nights of wild kisses and torturous romance I finally gave myself to him,,,,, allowing his essence prod my sexuality,,




So there you have it,,, a mild beginning of a life that'S overly sexually active. A live most people term as sluty cos it breaks the realm of what they understand.

abeloureal:
Should education be appraised on the strictness involved before the reward or the quality of the education?
So tell me, a third class in Harvard is equal to what in the above universities.??
So u think a PhD program that lasted 8years is strictness (one of my lecturers ordeal) or stupidity and mediocrity.
I hate people saying this poo. Upon the whole wahala we put ourselves now....Nigerian universities for Africa is nothing but rubbish.. You better stop this rubbish comparisons because every student has their own story to tell. A university is only better than the other by qualitative education and pragmatic approach to human problems not outright wickedness that u call strictness.

May my Almighty God bless you for this

AjFive:
I probably would had ignored the pretty looking woman, a fellow passenger like myself, seating right next to me in a bus and not have stalked her if not for the green naira sign at the top left corner of her phone screen that caught my attention.

I had to strained my eyes to get a good look and I found myself almost letting out a cough, seeing indeed she was browsing the very same website - an online forum called Nairaland - that I happened to log off from some minutes ago before boarding the bus.

I stumbled across the site accidentally after a Google search. And weeks later, I joined as a member. Soon though I was taken appalled at the hate and repulsive comments against the police force loitering almost everywhere in most threads.

So being a police myself, I made it a crusade to fight back. I hated the fact that Nigerians don't appreciate our earnest sacrifice to protect them. Always quick to paint us as hungry corrupt men in black uniforms begging for chicken change.

Sometimes the hate comments carry all shades of insults from hell. And in most cases I run out of energy to reply, so what I normally do is to click the report button and the comments gets hidden.

I cringed and winced inwardly at the thought of this pretty woman sitting next to me posting one of those vile comments online at that moment. And once again, I felt the cough building up so I shifted nervously in my sit to suppress it.

She moved a little to give me space and I took advantage of the abrupt movement to observe her from the corner of my eyes.

With one good look, I knew she was tired and in distressed. There were dark little traces of mascara on her chin which suggest obviously she cried hours ago. She was also clutching her hand bag tightly between her thighs. But strangely it was pack to the brim with clothes. Impossible to zip close.

I stared more and she seemed unconcerned. She was fully concentrated on her phone and was now typing something.

I watched closely at how fast she typed and that was when I noticed the red paint underneath the nail of her thumb. At first glance, it seemed like paint but on a closer look I could swear it was blood.

It was darken, dry and distinctive. I spotted more of the stains on some of her fingers all hidden underneath the nails. It could easily be dismissed as dirt but I know it's blood.

I shifted my gaze to her face. Her concentration was so intense. She looked lost in her own world.

Lots of stranded hair leaked out of the edges of her head tie. It was definitely tied in a hurry. Then I saw more of those darken dry blood stains on the fabric. Randomly spattered in tiny droplets. Now I know it wasn't her blood.

I looked down at her. He was still typing. Cunningly, I observed her forearms and saw both were slightly bruised and swollen. Bathed in scratches. Something one gets from a cat fight. Or struggle.

The cough was out of my mouth before I could even tell. The force was much, and it carried tiny bits of saliva into the air. I felt chills as the droplets descended unto my face and arm and probably hers too cos she abruptly stopped whatever she was typing and jerked away in disgust.

“Sorry” I stammered looking away.

As much as I hate to think about It, as a police, I have no choice but to follow and stalk her when she alights.

I swallowed hard.

I love this,,, now i got so many people stalking me. any lady to the rescue?

hahahahahaha, this is getting out of hand

NevetsIbot:
oh... I remember now. Thanks. He's a good writer

i'm in the corner watching you kiss him oh oh, (your signature)

bibijay naijasinglegirl pamelb ishilove larrysun royver explorer scarlett repogirl d9ty7

the list is endless

Royver:

You're featuring in my new Chukwudi series as a streetsmart detective with a touch of villainy. I hope you dont mind

i'd be very happy. n i do not mind at all....,plus i would love to read it too.

Royver:
Ah, the classical Bravado infused response.


A lot of my friends reacted this way at first. They would ruffle their feathers and screech out audaciously at my request, blaming me for their actions or lack of it, not realizing that this knee-jerk response comes from a deep-seated instinct of fear and trepidation. Some of them came to see reason with me after a while. The others, well, let’s just say they will not be disagreeing with anyone ever again. I'm quite sure you'll be sensible enough to be among the former.

I'm not very good at chess. I do not have the patience for strategies. I'm more of a go-in-and-destroy-everything-in-my-wake-and-leave-the-mess-for-someone-else-to clean-up kind of guy. Chess is for wusses without muscle. And I am all about muscle as you have rightly seen.


But for you my love-lorn beauty, I will reserve a little patience.


Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a very hard working engineering student. He came from a lowly family that didn’t have any money to send him to the university. He made good grades in his JAMB, WAEC and Post_UME, but his parents just couldn’t afford the money to send him to school. So this young man went a-begging. He begged his rich uncles who had ties with the Goodluck administration, He begged his cousins who knew university lecturers. He begged his friends who were better off than he was for a little fund. All of them declined his requests. The young man was filled with a lot of anger and disappointment. He felt betrayed by his family, betrayed by the ones he looked to for support, betrayed by the world.


And then after pondering for a long time he realized that being angry never solved anything. Feeling disappointed was no solution to his problem. Fear and trepidation were mere feelings. The young man realized something early in life. If you want to make it out there in the real world you have to be tough. You have to rely on no one but yourself. You have to be resourceful.


And so this young man became resourceful. He kidnapped one of his rich uncle’s little kids and left a bloody finger behind for them to find and a type-written note for one million naira. Not much I know but he wasn’t greedy. He just wanted enough to cater to his needs. His uncle was so terrified he didn’t dare to involve the police. He released the money pronto and got his kid back. And from then on the sky was the limit for our young engineer. He found out that there were easier, more straightforward ways to solve problems than the conventional, socially acceptable methods. Anytime there were speed-bumps on his road to success he knew what to do. And he knew how to keep his nose so clean he was never the object of suspicion. Each and every member of his extended family paid his tuition through school one way or the other and they never knew it. Whether it involved causing family disputes or blackmail, kidnapping or missing items or frame-up jobs, this young man became a master of cunning and skill.


He eventually graduated with a 2.1, a meaningless number in this country of ours if you don’t have the right connections. But our young man hasn’t given up. He has been working on construction sites on the low key but is gradually working his way up. If he sees something he fancies, he takes it; it is only a matter of time.


The hawker that came to your door this morning insisting that you buy her pap? I sent her. The knock on the door twice and when you opened no one was there? I was the one who knocked. I spent half the night spying on you and taking pictures with my cameraphone until you read the post on nairaland and hurriedly went to close the window blinds, thus robbing me of a chance to feast my eyes on the ravishing beauty of your sleeping form in pink underwear. I’m glad you remember me; at least you do not see me as a non-entity. I’ll go easy on you and give you tonight to think about it. Our budding relationship I mean. I’m a gentleman and wouldn’t want to force myself on you. But my patience is running thin. I could even help you out with the police, show you tricks on how you could re-start your life in another state. Whatever you want.


But first fulfill my obsession. Allow me the pleasure of your company. Do whatever you like after that; strategise and play the queen all you want. Let me worry about my own health. When next I knock, open the door.





Open the door and let me in.

Hi friend, i know i should keep this going but lol, i can't. maybe we could arrange a more elaborate drama some other time...., Thanks for ehm, ehm......., everything.

nuwell:
Continued

As I watch my three boys sitting here munching contentedly on their rice and chicken, I can't help but smile. There's Joba smacking his lips in his signature expression of satisfaction. It's been ages since they had a real meal. They deserve this and more. That worthless father of theirs was no help whatsoever. For all his claims not to have money, he had a robust reputation at the downtown bar. My boys will never be like that idiot! I did need the money and more as it came.

But I can't keep this up indefinitely.

Although the money the man had given me for my services was the equivalent of a month's worth of hardwork selling pap, no one ever got all their Christmases in one day. And I would only be naively optimistic to think this shadiness would go on for much longer. Something had to give soon.

Speaking of which, except I was paranoid, the motel lady had seemed agitated when she eventually opened the door. And I had had to knock quite insistently for a few minutes before that. Without a response, the door had been opened slowly and cautiously till she could just show her face around the edge. Only when she saw me in my simple garb and with the black waterproof bag grasped in one hand, had she stepped out beyond the door, carefully pulling it back in place behind her. She definitely didn't want me looking inside.

The air that wafted out of the room was stale. She looked like she had been crying. Her hair lay in a disorganized jumble on her head, like she had been tossing and turning in bed, for some time. She was clad in a bath robe that bore the motel's brand. She stood on the threshold and by her posture, I was sure she didn't want me to get beyond that point.

What!?? She demanded in a hoarse voice, the irritation dripping from her lips.

Her furtive glances down the hall on either side after I had told her my intentions, and all the while I was speaking, told me she didn't appreciate my visit in any way.

She had not been interested in the pap except that I had insisted and begged that I couldn't leave otherwise. I didn't also have a name to give her when she asked who had sent me. I don't know his name. He refused to tell me, I had protested. She hadn't been satisfied with my answers till I had made an attempt to describe the young man to her. A very brief flash of recognition had passed across her face then.

Only then had she received the pap with a look of resignation and slammed the door in my face.

Should I be worried? I had often had to deal with at least one such weird experience on my daily routine. Two obviously linked weirdos in a weird situation however, was a different ball game.

I want to see how this plays out. And the pay has been good so far.

this is really good, really really really good. But i give up on the both of you. You can have me now......, LOL!!!

Dear John,


I did not mean it to get to this, to kill my husband and watch as his mistress bleed to death. What do they say about the choice of a lonely woman? Nothing. I made my choice and right now i am supposed to live with. But what can i say about you? Can you really live with the choices you've made?

You watched with your friends as a lonely woman go crazy, i'm not blaming you or anything but i mean you could have done something. I remember you, Dear John, the construction guy that would smile at me when i go to dry my clothes outside, my eyes swollen from the tears and lonely orgasms from last night. I love watching the way you lifted those heavy duty machines, the rips in your muscles and then i'd swallow my spit almost choking my self in the process from the way i was hungry to have a man treat me like the woman i am.

You knew this, you knew i was lonely, you know my little secret, peeping from your own little hole, But what did you do? You followed the perverted path, you and your friends having a hang from watching me and i guess with some few bottles of beer. Was it fun? Did you enjoy the view, the minutes details of how i masturbated my misery away only for it to come back the next instant with the force of a thousand demons.

Oh, you knew i was going to do something silly, you knew that no woman can perfectly handle what i was going through, you see, the difference between you and i is, i did not know what i was capable of, i never planned to kill anyone. You should have offered a helping hand or your di.ck, which ever you think was strong enough to lift me from that pit of loneliness. I would have been more than willing to play along with you, if not for anything but to spite my husband, to pay him back in his own coin.

I know you have a thing for watching crazy and lonely people do crazy and lonely shits, maybe that's all you are good for, but next time when you see a lonely heart, a broken mind, or a hungry and sex starved woman who's only way of getting it on is watching as her husband sleeps with numerous ladies, its best you offer any help you can in anyway that you can.

I'm lying in my room right now, on my bed with a yellow bed sheet totally rumpled cos I've been in this position for the past 8 hours, too weak to stand up, too distraught to move and in truth I've been playing a game. You know chess? Its a game of kings and queens, that's the only thing that can take my mind off this pit hole i dug for myself.

Its a game with tactics and strategies, offering poisons to kill your opponent, the opening i love most is called the Queen's gambit. Beware John. I've read your message and i feel compelled to reply and also to say you would never see me upclose. Your threat don't do anything to me, my husband's people can go to hell, but most importantly its the fact that you could have helped but you choose to do nothing.

Now that i know you are watching, i'll be watching too. Its now a game of chess for the both of us and know this, I'm the queen here and i have a gambit; dear John, i have a gambit. I have killed before, 2 people i must add and i won't be afraid to kill again. I am determined to live through this no matter what but i cannot say the same for you.

Watch your back!
A woman like me is not someone you want to fvck with, Literally.

off to italy