David was known by a group of girls at the eatery where I worked as the 'Pussy Licker.'

I had been working at the eatery which was located in one of the few quiet areas in Lagos for about two months. At first, I thought David's moniker was some kind of joke the girls played until one of them, Norah, told me that he had 'serviced' a couple of girls and he was 'fantastic' at it. I kept my distance from David though. This was my first job out of the university and I wanted to keep it for as long as I could.

David was stationed in the kitchen while I worked at the front, taking orders and serving food to customers. Every once in a while, he would check me out and wink at me. I simply just smiled and ignored him. I suspected I was his next conquest and I was not about to encourage his advances.

One night, it was nearly closing time and David and I were on the final shift of the day. He was wrapping things up in the kitchen while I stayed out front, waiting for the last couple in the corner of the room to finish with their meal.

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"Pastor..." I heard Cindy whisper again for yet another time. "Pastor, are you there?"

I held my breath! I held it so tightly! I sincerely hoped I wouldn't answer! I honestly hoped! But it was just hope, isn't it? Hope can only take you so far!

"Pastor Dan?" she would only get more compulsive!

I remained still; no motion, no words and no air! The expectation was for me to turn around; not remain still. The expectation was for me to walk back upstairs and forget I even got here! But I wasn't moving; I remained stiff!

"Pastor..."

Her tiny tingly voice graced my ears. The same voice that had brought weakness to my knees a lot of times! I shut my eyes in the darkness, feeling its tininess re-echo deep into my wandering searching thoughts! That search for justification! That search for good excuse!

"Please Pastor Danny..." it now appeared closer! Was she coming off her bed? "Please Pastor, just this last time..." Cindy was coming off her bed!

My heart kept beating harder! Maybe harder than the hard wooden doorpost into which I was leaning! It was happening again! It was likely just only a matter of time now! But could I say, I was surprise?

Maybe not! I knew what these paths had done to me in the past! I knew what coming downstairs at night by exactly 10:15pm every day for drinking water, had done to me and my Christian life! I knew Cindy. I knew what she was all about. I knew us too! So would I say I was surprise? Definitely not! Not after I had consciously told myself I wouldn't come downstairs by 10:15pm for drinking water anymore! Not after I had even succeeded in keeping to those precepts for 2 days running! Not at all! Now I was here, 'downstairs for water'! The very source of all my weaknesses! The very source of Cindy!

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"No! No! Please, no! Don't do this! Where am I supposed to go at this time? Please..." Clara's voice got louder and louder and her eyes were filled with tears as her husband dragged her towards the main door.

He had returned from work earlier and drunk that evening. He got mad at her for a few different things like not having his dinner ready on time or not getting his clothes for the next day ironed. She had patiently apologised again and again until finally, aided by a system full of alcohol, he ordered her to leave their home at ten in the night. He pulled and dragged as she struggled against him, trying to appeal to him. Finally, he succeeded in pushing her out the door and closing it behind her.

She knelt at the door in front of their flat, crying hysterically. She wrapped her hands around herself as the fabric of her silk nightie was too light, causing her to feel cold.

Her eyes were blurred with tears but she heard when the door opposite her opened and Mr Kanu, an older man who lived there looked at her with concern.

"Maybe you should come and wait in here." He said.

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Morning light streaming in through the window…

Kate felt warm and wonderful with Michael lying naked in her bed, her arm and leg wrapped around him, her body pressed up against his. She couldn’t remember when she had slept so well or felt so content upon waking. With one arm folded under her head, her free hand was lazily gliding over the planes of his body. She loved feeling his warm skin, enjoyed sliding her hand over the contours of his arm muscles, up his back, down over his shoulders and chest, revelling in the delicious contrast between the smooth skin of his shoulders and the coarse smattering of chest hair.

So masculine, so strong, so sexy.

She watched her caramel hand glide over the warm dark brown skin of his chest and her gaze glided upward to take in his beautiful face. She examined his adam’s apple and the bit of stubble showing along his strong jaw. She reached her hand up to caress his jaw and cheek and looked at his full sensual lips that she loved to kiss. Her tongue snaked out of her mouth and wet her own lips in anticipation. She noticed how his eyes followed her tongue and the sexy grin that lit his face. That sultry grin of his made her heart flutter every time she saw it.

She looked into the deep dark liquid pools of his eyes and sighed contentedly, thinking about all that had transpired in the last twelve hours. She could barely believe it. After months of wanting him, of fantasizing about him, of writing about him…

Just yesterday morning she couldn’t have imagined or hoped that they would be like this. Here. Now.

***

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I was sitting in front of Mr Lanre but my mind was elsewhere. I could not take my gaze off his lips, his arms and his broad, sexy chest. He kept his eyes steadily on me. Well, he should, since he was interviewing me for a job. I tried to focus and answer his questions the best I could, but damn! this man was fucking hot.

He was probably in his 40's, but he still had that youthful look in his eyes. I can clearly see his wedding band so I know he was married, but the more he talked to me, the hotter I got for him.

'Get it together, Lola!' I scolded myself. He could very well be my boss. Or maybe not, because at this point, I was sure I was probably tanking the interview.

"So in what way do you think you will contribute to Amber Magazine?"

I noticed him look at me expectantly, then I realised he must have asked me a question. I tried to offer as good of a response as I could, but if you asked me now, I have no clue what I said. He seemed impressed by my answer, however, because he gave me a nod and continued speaking. I furrowed my eyes as I watched him talk. I gazed curiously at his neck, down his Adam's apple and towards his chest up until where his white shirt began. Bleep, what I would give to rip off those buttons and straddle him right there in the conference room.


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She was tall, the tallest of all the bridesmaids, and the most gorgeous.

The bridesmaid dresses looked okay on most of them, but on her, that figure-hugging number made her a bombshell. She was curvier than the others, so where, for them, the dress glided seamlessly from the waist down, on her, her shapely ass gave the outfit a more sexual appeal.

It was my cousin's wedding, and from the brief introduction here and there during the event, I found out that she and my cousin were friends at the university. I was glad when she gave me her phone number, just in case she disappeared into the crowd again for another one of her bridesmaid duties.

Of course, I spent a couple of minutes with a few ladies here and there, but my eyes kept finding my gorgeous bridesmaid. She smiled coyly and innocently at me whenever our eyes met. The smile had a very interesting effect on my dick as it jerked a little in reaction.


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Fredrick and I has always been this sex craved couples. We could Bleep till night fall and then Bleep till dawn with just 20 minutes Intervals. I liked the body pain afterwards, it made me feel special, and the traces left on my body like he was trying to mark his territory. We have been married for 2 years now and were both blessed with a son , "my little guardian angel" I nick named him, he was such a beauty.


Deji was just 5 months old when I started noticing the constant drench in between my legs, the doctor was right about being sex craved after delivering. Fredrick and I enjoyed a very spontaneous sex life before I became pregnant. We could Bleep virtually anywhere, in the kitchen, on top of the dinner table, in the bathroom and even in the garage, we were animals. Now I spend 60 percent of my day thinking about Fredrick dick and the other 40 percent was about breast feeding Deji which of course left wet patches on my underwear.

Birthing Deji was a gift but I had to lose a lot too, Fredrick doesn't put me to sleep with his Dick anymore ,I had to sleep countless nights without having that dick buried in me , I tried giving him signals but he was indifferent, I did exercises to keep in shape so I could parade myself half naked but still no response, he was completely numb.

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I met Franca during one of my modelling auditions, she was young, couldn't have been more than 18 or 19.

She was tall and very beautiful. The first thing that drew me to her were her lips. They were full and pretty. I had never actively made a choice to go after another girl. Of course, I still had my regular thing with Martha and the odd threesomes here and there.

But choosing to go through the process of wooing or seducing a strange girl simply because I found her attractive was never something I did. Franca was causing me to change my mind, though.

We sat in the waiting room for hours. She sat next to me but often got up to receive calls and stuff so I was able to look my fill at her. Once, her eyes met mine, eyes looked questioning as if she was wondering why I kept looking at her. I simply looked away, feeling shy all of a sudden. I have never been one to be shy but Franca made me nervous.


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"Oh my God, are we really going to do this?" she asked as she sat across him in a nearly deserted restaurant.

The couple had an agreement the night before. She was going to fulfil one of his fantasies if he agreed to fulfill hers. She had an amazing night. She got to be blindfolded and he went on to give her the most amazing head of her life.

Usually, MouthAction to them was a prelude to the main thing, but that night, he spent over an hour on her, giving her orgasm after orgasm as she relaxed, blindfolded and focused on all the pleasure. She nearly passed out from cumming so much. Now it was time for payback.

He wanted them to Bleep in a public restroom. That was not the first she had heard of it. Mostly, whenever he expressed that desire, she just blew it off. But when he insisted the night before, she finally agreed. He offered her something she could not refuse.

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The sound of banging roused me.

The young lady in the room next to mine has recently started enjoying a very loud and freaky sex life. I moved into the hostel in my 200level and she came to live in the room next to mine a year later. Things were pretty quiet at first until she started seeing this new guy. He usually spent the night in her room and they would be going at it like deranged sex maniacs until early hours of the morning.

They chose the weirdest times too, often waking me up around 1 or 2am in the morning. I could hear their bed scraping against the floor and the sound of bedsprings creaking.

Sometimes, I could hear her screaming obscenities at him as they bleeped. At first, it was annoying but as time went on, I could not deny the feeling of arousal I had when she would tell him where and how to Bleep her or when he commanded her to spread her legs, bend over or sit on his face. I was a single girl living next door. Who could blame me?

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Bukola, my younger sister's best friend, came to spend three weeks at our home. They had both just graduated from secondary school and Bukola's parents had asked mine if she could come spend a couple of weeks because they had to travel.

Bukola had been in our house only one week and I knew that I was being tested to the limit. I would never identify myself as a lesbian but there were simply some girls who always seemed to capture my attention. Bukola was one of them. She was that kind of girl that most can describe as having the eyes of innocence but the body of sin.

Though still very young, her breasts were quite big, leading me to guess that she must be a DD in cup size. Asides from that, she seemed to prefer these short, light nightwears that made my eyes pop with arousal whenever I saw her. The way the dresses would hug her figure while giving me a tantalising view of her breasts including her nipples, just makes me want to grab her and never let go.

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I woke in the morning to a warm bed, me being tightly wrapped in the covers. To be truthful, the warmth I was feeling wasn’t mainly from the think cotton duvet I was in; it came from the body of the man that lay beside me. As I stretched my body, working out the kinks, I felt him stir and his arm came over me, slid under the covers and two fingers slid up and tweaked my nipple which immediately got hard under his touch.

He pulled the sheet down and rolled me, exposing the two nipples to the air as if they were his, no longer mine, his hand began its game again. 

His mouth descended and he began to flick the tip of his tongue over the right nipple as his other arm came around and he began to palm the left breast and roll the nipple with his fingers. 

In my impatience, I pulled him over, completely on top of me and shifted my behind down trying to get what I know was there for me; his dick.

He squeezed my breast tightly and nipped my nipple and switched breasts. The cool air of the morning made my nipples stand even more. His hand left my breast and slid their way down my body, to my pussy and he rubbed his fingers over and around my clit, gathering my wet slick cream to make his job easier. 

Switching breast again he continued to suck, flicking his tongue around and around and then using his lips and teeth to nip and tug on my nipples as his fingers continues to circle and flick on my clit, he shifted suddenly and slid down my body; took his hands and lifted my legs up and back to present my pussy to the open air and to his face.

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If you missed Part 1, READ IT HERE https://www.nairaland.com/3379321/must-read-boss-uper-er0tica

He turns so slowly I grip the desk in front of me till my knuckles are pale.

“What did you just call me?”

He asked it in a curious way after turning to eye me.

I gulp and lick my lips that now seem absurdly dry. I whisper “Ibukun”and will myself to keep looking at him.

He is still a few feet away from me. Even though the desk is between us I had hoped, just saying this, he would ravage me on the spot. “Why did you call me that, Omowunmi?”

I shrug my shoulders not giving him eye contact. My face burns with embarrassment again. I feel like I’m in the principal’s office and they’re asking why I brought contraband. Maybe I was hungry, maybe I was mad the kitchen wasn’t feeding us enough, maybe I’m just a teenager and their expectations were too high!

I focused on the disappointed look my principal had in high school so I didn’t get too aroused by Ahmed’s searching eyes. “Omowunmi, is there something you’re not telling me?”

Why does he have to keep saying my name? Why does he start and end every sentence with it. I bend down and grab my phone. Quickly moving to him before my brain can register this is a bad idea. I shove my yellow minion covered phone at him. He takes it looking confused.

It’s at the end of the story. He scrolls to the top and seeing the title he freezes. His eyes leave the phone and he looks at me terrified. “Miss Cole, I am so sorry.” He begins to stammer. “It was just playful fantasy and I promise I would never act on it.”

He’s holding the phone at me like it’s burning him. This isn’t going the way I planned. He’s acting like I’m going after a lawsuit. He looks embarrassed and ashamed. In the movies, I would kiss him and everything would work out. The problem is he’s much taller and if I do that and he doesn’t want it, I’m just going to end up pulling on his neck like an idiot.

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“Today she wore that green skirt I love. I’ve seen her bend over a dozen times. Her round tight ass doesn’t budge in them. She clearly does it to arouse me. I fantasize about forcing her over my desk and…”

**********

I have to put my phone down for a minute. I can feel my heart racing reading it. It had taken me hours to read all the stories he had written about me. My boss, Ahmed, was a guest writer for Purple and Posh.

It was by pure accident I found out. I love the Purple and Posh blog and read it all the time but I don’t write on it. One day, reading through #GuestWriters, I came across a story of his. I read it because I thought it was funny the author’s pen name was similar to Ahmed’s personal email.

It was a detailed account of a personal moment for me. I had been embarrassed to read it. My grandmother had passed. He had hugged me when I started to come close to tears. The writing was caring and sweet even if it did end in sex.

He called me “Cynthia” and he called himself “Ibukun” in the stories. It’s our middle names. I read all of them and only two made me certain they were about me. For a while I thought I was making up connections. I mean, what were the odds I would stumble across them?

I have never looked at my boss that way before. It has been nearly two weeks since I found the posts. Reading the most recent one, I don’t have a doubt left in my mind. I know the green skirt he was talking about. I wear it when I need to feel sexy. It tucks in my stomach and makes my ass look great.

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I lean back in the chair, listening to one of my friends tell the same annoying story he tells every time we hit the club. All of us could recite the story word for word by now and it was getting old. Not that I paid much attention anyway. I shift my eyes and stop for a moment seeing a head of soft brown kinky hair walk into the club.

My eyes slowly wander down and I smile slightly, checking her out. Damn I thought to myself, she was wearing a black and purple mini dress, with black high heels. She was smiling and laughing with the group of girls that came into the club with her. Her mini dress clung tightly to her incredible body, showing every curve, along with her small but incredibly perky breasts.

As soon as her and her friends were sitting at a table, I walk up to the bar and buy her a drink and send it over. I sit back down and watch as the bartender takes the drink over to her and tells her who it’s from.

She looks over at me and smiles. I smile back and raise my glass. She raises hers and we both down our drinks. Minutes passed, maybe hours at this point in time I couldn’t tell. My eyes were fixed on this brown hair beauty, I wanted her. I wanted her badly.

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Every Saturday, my brother, Debo would take me along with him to see his friend. This was the only condition of our dad letting him go out.

Even though he was 17 (five years older than I was) my father would not let him leave the house without me. I believed it was his way of making sure Debo was kept in check but my father had no clue.

See, as soon as Debo got to his Mark's house, they would both leave me with their sister, Tara and head out, often times, for hours. I did not mind much. Tara was 16, and to me, she was really cool. She acted and dressed like a grown up.

She even used makeup. I simply enjoyed watching her and hoped I would one day be like her. She did not pay much attention to me, though. Whenever I was around, she just sulked and spent her time watching TV or playing on her phone until Debo came to get me.

One Saturday afternoon, I was in the living-room, as usual, sitting beside Tara. She was watching what I knew now was a porn movie. Then, I had never seen any adult movie but all I knew then was that there were naked people on the screen. She did not mind that I was watching with her. There were two girls and one guy in the video. The girls would alternate between kissing and rubbing each other and touching the man. I was very must interested in what they were doing and my 12-year-old self was curious.


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The sheets felt like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

Smooth as silk, but softer and warmer, almost begging her to envelop herself into them. She fell forward, burying herself into the purple blankets and brought her knees up until she was kneeling, face first, in downward dog position. She was quite aware she was in an embarrassing condition- half drunk, and half asleep.

“I love these covers,” she mumbled into the sheets.

They smelled good, too, like a mixture of his sweat, laundry detergent, and cologne. Sleepily, she swayed her butt back and forth in the air rhythmically, too tired to care.

From behind, he was tempted to reach out and smack her on her ass, covered only by the stretched scarlet boyshorts. Immediately he mentally reprimanded himself and averted his eyes in guilt. He couldn’t think of her in that way, especially in the drunken state she was in. Suddenly, she fell on her side and curled into a ball, ripping the sheets out and pulling them over her.

“Now I have to remake the bed,” he scowled.

“Sorry,” she slurred, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously.

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She was in the middle of washing off the scrub from her face, enjoying the sensation of running her fingers all over her cheeks,her very chubby cheeks. She was thinking about the previous night, eyes closed and smiling, remembering how it had felt to have held him deep inside her, her legs shaking afterwards, their shallow breaths gradually slowing down together. Her thoughts were pleasantly occupied when she heard an “ahem” behind her. Her eyes snapped open at the quiet indication that she was no longer alone. She found herself staring at the object of her daydreaming, apparently standing in the tub with her.

“Wha—how—what are you doing in here?” Shocked at his sudden appearance, she automatically whipped around, facing the showerhead mounted on the wall and turning her back to him. “I thought you’d left for work already,you said you had a meeting.”

“You were taking ages in here, babe, and I’ve got things to do.”

There was a pause.

“Seriously, Tunde?” She looked back at him in disbelief.

“Madam,you can like to move o.” He gently edged around her on the outside, brushing past the shower curtain and shifting her five foot six frame easily along the length of the tub. There was so little space between them that she was essentially hugging the wall at one point, before realizing they had switched places — he was now under the water, and she was where he had been.

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Never really contemplated being with another woman in the past, but for some reason the last few months,Falida found herself looking at more girl on girl porn, carefully scrutinizing, and in a way secretly admiring the women that displayed themselves in the pages of Playboy. Being a slim long legged girl, she had been successful at keeping herself in shape, and sometimes imagined herself in one of those “swimsuit” types of photo shoot the magazine sometimes displays.

As much as she tried, she could never really explain why she was so compelled to be with another woman, other than to take a guess that her own curiosity had started to get the better of her. Now that she had reached her late 20s, she figured it was probably because she never had the opportunity arise before to be with another woman and now the idea of it drove her crazy. Even when Falida masturbated, she found herself fantasizing more about having another woman touching and caressing her, gently teasing and toying with her…so much more than fantasizing about a man.

Finally, after a few months of agonizing over her secret desires, an opportunity presented itself. Her flatmates were going out of town for a week to visit their parents,she lived with a set of twins,Taiye and Kehinde or Tea and Cake as they preferred to be called. The couple of weeks that passed in between them telling her they were leaving and the actual departure seemed like months. All her free time was spent fantasizing about her opportunity to finally experience another woman. When the day came that the twins were leaving, Falida could hardly control the butterflies in her stomach. Just sitting down for a few minutes to try to calm her nerves and curb her enthusiasm was fruitless at best. “Maybe a drink and hot bath would help,”she thought.

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I had just turned 36 when I was promoted to my new job. It felt great. A big bump in salary, nice title, a personal assistant as well as a secretary. A little overkill, I thought. A secretary and an assistant? Would I have to do any work myself? Even more than that was the office that went along with the rest. A big office, nicely furnished, a private bathroom, and a door that was kept locked at all times.

The guy I replaced must have had issues. I wasn’t sure, but the lock seemed to be over the top. Such privacy concerns that even my secretary had to be buzzed in. The only key cards that unlocked my door were mine and my assistant. I guessed that made her an assistant instead of a secretary.

But what an assistant. I had picked her out of a group of employees who asked for the promotion when I got mine. I swear I did not pick her because she was so young and pretty. Really. Honest. I think I really believe that, though it certainly didn’t hurt her chances. I mean, I knew we would be spending a lot of time together. I had to pick someone who was not only capable, but someone whose personality suited mine. But the thought of looking at such a pretty 25 year old for so much of the day certainly did make me smile.


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I pull the Jeep close to the pavement and kill the engine. The sudden silence and stillness in the car makes me feel present in the moment, makes it seem real. Now my emotions can bubble up to the surface of my consciousness, making me restless. My stomach flips over nervously.

Turning down the driver’s side sun visor and sliding open the door to reveal the vanity mirror, I check my makeup a last time. Dark brows, brown eyes framed in big lashes, and full red lips. I haven’t felt, or looked for that matter, this good in a long while. And I’m done wasting time.

Without the air conditioning on, the car is getting warm in the sun. I take this as a sign that I should stop stalling and get on with it.

So I take a deep breath, hold it in for a few seconds, and let it all go. Then I slide a hand under my black sun dress and slip off my pair of pale pink lace panties. I stuff them into my bag and get out of the car, not stopping to allow a second thought.

Once on the balcony, I give a hard, quick rapt on the front door and wait. I breathe out another heavy sigh through my lips, hoping to push my chaotic thoughts away with the air. It’s not working.

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She arrived at my studio clutching a few bags. They did not look bulky, no surprise I suppose. When we discussed what she wanted on the phone, it was your regular boudoir shoot, some somewhat revealing shots wearing various sexy items, that type of thing. We said our hellos and she was a little nervous explaining as she had on the phone that this was her first time doing anything like this. I told her I would try to make everything as comfortable as possible and handed her a glass of wine with the remark, “this helps to settle the nerves a little.”

She smiled as she took the glass and said, “well I have no idea how we should start?”

“Don’t worry about that. That’s why you’re hired me. I’ll take care of it. Just relax for a few minutes.” She smiled once again and took a sip of the Chardonnay.

I picked up my camera and started to take some shots. She sat on the small chair just to the side of the white backdrop. “Have we started already?” she asked nervously.

“No, not really. It’s just a few test shots for the lighting and stuff and to help you get used to the camera.” She giggled and took one more sip. Her face softened as I attempted to put her at her ease. “Do you have an order you would like to do the shots in?” I asked, “Generally, I would start with the less revealing items and then move to the more revealing lingerie as we progress,” I continued before she could answer. “Would you like me to look through what you have and pick what we should start with?”

She nodded enthusiastically at this suggestion and I placed the camera on its tripod and topped up her wine. I picked up her bags and took them off to the small tables I had. I had a sheet rigged up to pull across this area. A poor dressing room really but it helped a little when the clients were changing. I placed the bags on the table and began to look through the contents.

She strolled over and her pretty cheeks gently softened in the studio lights and her hair swishing as she walked. I wished I’d had my camera right at that moment but alas, no and I knew it was useless to try and recreate these spontaneous moments. Another missed opportunity I thought as I proceeded to empty the contents of the first bag.

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