Please don’t remind me! I am well abreast with the fact that I have shattered my pastor’s watertight doctrines, I have defiled my mother’s frequent moralistic warnings, and I know that my aunt would nag and convince her husband to withdraw his financial assistance.
“Yet still, am not ashamed of it!”
I presently have a boyfriend, and my prince is that dark, tall, muscular guy with soft brown eyes. Yes! The same Toluwani of a guy whom even Titi my best friend and other girls couldn’t acquire for themselves. I’m should be proud of him, because it is now 5 months since we began this our love trip, and contrary to mum’s prediction he hasn’t asked for sex. It should have been very comforting because each time Toluwani slept over at my self-contain, my silk black cotton acted as a barricade between the leather black couch and my student size blue muka foam. Thus I couldn’t ascertain how sticky his singlet was to chest or how short and revealing his boxers were but am I satisfied? I knew he was devoid of any clue that every night, it was only my short net-like night gown that enjoyed the privilege of touching my skin. Toluwani was unaware that even the mosquitos are now tired of seeing my legs widely opened every night, with the edge of my night gown constantly sailing to my abdomen.
I remember vividly how it started. It was the only Tuesday I recorded with a red pen on my dairy, the First Bank customer’s dairy I stole from my father’s room. The air was unusually dissatisfactory, and due to the scorching sun there were very little human movements in our surroundings. Most residents were at home, the neighbourhood was as silent as a sanitary Saturday early morning.
“Victoria! Please open the door the weather is really hot” were the echoing words which made me briskly open the door. It was him, his face was soaked with sweat and his stare looked dehydrated.
I caught him staring so passionately at my breast while I offered him water. “You can’t blame him” I muttered to myself in recognition of guilt. Simply because due to the heat, my provocatively exposing black armless underwear gown was the only outfit I could put on. It was a generous dress which should give even a careless observer a nice view of my body in admirable details.
“Victoria! You look so beautiful” was the first bullet he shot at my heart.
Yes! Obviously am not well dressed
“I don’t expect less” were the words I wanted to respond with, but my face gave a shy smile and my mouth produced “thanks” as the response.
I had barely entered the kitchen to recover from the rush, when I heard;
“I can’t imagine a comfortable life without you by my side”
I would have assumed I was daydreaming again, save the fact that I felt a tender touch around my waist.
“Angel, I still can’t believe having such a beautiful, smart and spotless goddess as you for a girlfriend”
“trust me, even the Devil would kill me if I hurt you” were the specific words he said as he turned me around to face him.
I literally froze, my nerves were already dead. I couldn’t feel the natural pains that should have sprung up as I leaned against my kitchen walls. The manner through which he boldly stared into my eyes verified his words.
I was so helpless and too weak to give a response. A weird sensation began on my right and left breast, something was pushing so desperately against my gown. It was no other person than my nipples; she stood so erect as if she had heard those words too. I usually cared less about her gestures, but this time her jealousy was really incriminating. “Oh! No, not now you dam bitch” I said to myself in view of the fact that my nipples were already conspicuously visible.
“Say something!” my conscience yelled at my mouth to speak, but before I could finally break free from the undue influence of his pink lips, I felt an extra weight on my lips. We started a deep juicy conversation of equal participation. He was both an expert and educative kisser. We kissed each other so passionately as if it was an attempt to exchange our deepest thoughts. Certainly my legs were now far above the grey marble tiles on the floor, they were firmly clipped around his waist. I was lost in a world of boundless imagination, and during my exploration, I was glad to find no better kisser amongst both Gods and men.
“Do you really love me?” I asked him, because I needed an assurance we were doing the right thing. “Yes I do” he responded, an affirmative answer to my question that didn’t come from his mouth. Toluwani made me discover my hidden talent of deciphering sign language. I easily gave meaning to the gestures of his tongue when he ran it from my neck down to my tight cleavage in a very slow, steady and wet manner. “l love you too” “ ha! Hmm! Ha! I want you” “I have always loved just you” words were now running out of my mouth in no prudent manner.
Truly, that was all we could afford to reveal to my kitchen of this our intimate episode. Toluwani carried me out of the kitchen to my room, and he increased my unspeakable cravings by taking the first step.
Amazingly! It took him less than two seconds to get rid of his red sweatshirt. An act which made his slow strategies of removing my gown and under wears very comfortable. There was no room for any feeling of exposure or loneliness, because my breast was suitably cupped into his hands, and his tight grip kept her (my breast) completely hidden from any intrusive eyes. He defeated my imagination when his tongue paid a visit to quench the heat on my nipples. His tongue did a 360 turn around my nipples and it gave way for the mind blowing sensation his teeth bestowed on the tip of my nipples.
“Do you mind using the bathroom with me?” he asked “No! Not at all!” I responded with a reasonable conviction that the piercing sensations all over my body needed urgent remedies.
It was my longest bath ever. We had a sticky, soapy and participatory bath. While the shower released water, he applied soap on every inch of my skin, and more specifically, he continuously used his slippery hands to rub against the surface of my skin from my vagina hair down to the end of the partitioning line between my butt.
Toluwani displayed another act of mastery when he ventured to pay his visit inside me with his middle and ring fingers. He briskly discovered a hidden treasure of mine. A treasure even I personally had failed to discover its location. But he found it while his fingers were just about 2 inches inside me; a small mass of spongy erectile nerve tissue nestled between my pubic bone and the front of my cervix. He applied a firm, deep pressure as he stroked my G-spot, then switched to a rhythmic circular motion and swiftly instructed an up-and-down technique to his fingers.
I felt an unusual cold, flushing feeling throughout my genitals and body, the feeling was more relaxing than the experience I derived from gulping down a cup of strawberry ice-cream last week Thursday.
“Ouch!” “Hmm! Hmm! Hmm! Haa!” I exclaimed as I leaped so far above the ground in an attempt to contain the pleasure. ”Ouch!” I said, only remembering that my silver colored rusty shower was just 15 inches above my head when I collided with it.
I knew what my body earnestly yearned for, because I was already curled up around him like a snake, resting my head on his broad shoulders. “I want you inside me” “please, don’t stop! I can’t bear it anymore” were the only available words my mouth could use in aptly explaining my present sexual hunger. I wanted him to explore every nook and cranny of my vagina. I longed for a very rough and smooth sex at the same time. I secretly coveted the untold pleasure a roman mistress derived from a Spartan. I was certain my orgasm could only suffice if I assumed a squatting dog’s position, placing my hands on his well-defined sexy chest and sitting on his waist, while I languish under the comfort and pleasure that arises when 99% of his penis is firmly buried inside me. “surely!” I muttered to my conscience knowing that my joy would overflow if he jealously held my waist to allow a display of how flexible my waist could be while riding him.
“its not a selfish desire” I said trying to convince myself, since all I yearned for was a deviation. I wanted something distinct from the missionary style. Honestly, I just disdained the African Magic style of covering everything under the blanket and waking up covered in a bed sheet revealing nothing. Thus, I resolved that my couch would be the best spot to materialize my cravings, despite the fact even the rays of the sun could peep in a very rude and intrusive manner. Toluwani and I would take a nap and wake up solely on our birthday suits without exercising the Adam and Eve cowardice or shame.
“baby, please lets go to the couch” “ I’m ready, just take it gently at first” I said to him discovering that he had paused since I asked him to penetrate me. “baby comon!” I said “I am ready for sex na” I said again in an attempt to communicate to him in a more specific manner. But he still didn’t make a move.
“babe am so sorry, the doctor said I can never have an erection again”