Toto Series: His view
"What are you more worried about?"
I kept mulling the phrase over and over in my mind wondering if my head was screwed on right. "Fuck me!" The words were out of my mouth before I even knew to put a stop to them. The woman sitting beside me adjusted noisily all the while sending me killer darts. I looked her over like rotten mangoes covered with flies before letting out a long loud satisfying hiss. Her unchecked horror at my audacity was like balm to my frazzled spirit. I was in no mood for any holier than thou busy body today. As if on cue, the church band began offering songs and I snuck out after depositing my one hundred Naira note in the basket.
"what are you more worried about?" I said aloud as I exited the church premises. The way Alphonso had so brazenly said it as though it was the most normal thing in the world. I shivered at the memory.
It was a fine Sunday morning but I felt nothing but loathing at myself. I who enjoyed the ritual of Sunday mass, the fellowshiping with the body of Christ, I had walked out even before communion, after uttering those God forsaken words! I was definitely heading to hell. The road was still empty so I opted to walk. The church to my house was a distance but just like everything else in the past 24 hours, I was numb to my aching feet.
I had met Alfonso two years ago when I was on teaching practice at a government primary school in Nyanya. He had come to the school because he wanted to donate chairs and desks to the pupils and the principal had asked me to work with him.
He was the colour of freshly baked bread dipped in honey. Standing at 6ft 9, he was a giant to my 5"6. He had black hard eyes but his smile was infectious. He was energetic and vibrant, even when he was not in motion he gave off the feeling of activity. Over the next few weeks we shared correspondence, had a few lunches where we mulled over the unveiling of his pet projects.
He was donating chairs and desks to three classes with a student population of three hundred as well as the awarding of scholarships to deserving top three in each class.
After the event which was carried on network television, he invited me over for a celebration along with his friends and associates for a successful outing.
The event which he insisted was not a party was to be held at a posh restaurant and bar at a highbrow part of Abuja. I had tried to wiggle out of attending giving the excuse that I didn't have a befitting outfit for such.
By 7:30 pm, an hour an 30 minutes into the event, I saw his call on my cell. I picked wondering why he was calling when he should be enjoying himself and he told me he was outside my house. I ran to the window and peeped to be sure and there was his grey Cherokee parked outside. I hurriedly ran out to meet him, while saying a little prayer for the timely absence of my uncle. "what are you doing here" I asked breathlessly. He casually dropped from the car, and showered me with his insanely gorgeous smile. "you were not at the event so I came to find out why. Why didn't you show up Resa?" I swallowed. I hadn't expected him to notice my absence or to even care but here he was, looking dazzling in a navy blue gold embroidered kaftan. He wasn't magazine cover material but he was nonetheless striking. He wasn't handsome, not the way movie stars are but he exuded power and authority, one that came from knowing his worth. "I see. Somehow I knew you wouldn't make it so I planned a small get together for two". I stood stunned as he opened the back seat and brought out a picnic basket. "what are you doing" ? I asked in trepidation. I don't live alone and my uncle can come at any minute I lied. "You are an adult and so am I so what is the fuss? Moreover we are not doing anything except you have unholy plans towards me". I tried to speak but I couldn't. My brain felt like soaked auduga. "what about your event, you can't just leave like that." I beseeched hoping that it would somehow make him turn around and drive back from where he was coming from. "Resa if you want me gone, just say so. If not, can we get comfortable? I've got this really nice bottle of wine I'll hate to waste." with that he made to the front door.
That night ended up being one of the best nights of my one year teaching practice. He was gracious and kind. He had an unending repertoire of jokes and my sides ached from laughing.
At the end of the night as I walked him back to his car I couldn't help feeling empty. Why didn't he try to kiss me? Wasn't I attractive enough? I had gone to the bathroom more times than necessary to check and adjust my appearance whenever he looked at me with want and didn't act on it. I could feel the heat of his gaze caress my body as I walked ahead of him.
In all my life, I had never experienced such a basic animalistic urge before. I wanted him badly and it was infuriating that he didn't see that. He unlocked the door and I placed the basket in the back seat. I turned around and bumped nto his chest. I stepped back but he pressed close. My ears were flooded with the loudness of my heartbeat and my breathing came in gasps.
He didn't move. I also didn't move. For what seemed like eternity we were transfixed in the same position with our heated breaths sending our hearts into hyper drive. I summoned courage to lift my head to his face and my knees buckled. There was unmistakable desire in his eyes and his jaw was clenched as if he was fighting every ounce of self control. Resa! he breathed my name as his lips claimed mine. His hands found my neck and held it in place as his tongue sought access into the softness of my inner lips. I gasped as I allowed him access. His tongue was sending sparks throughout my body. We were standing in the estate street of my uncle's house, under a fully lit moon light and I didn't care. All my good sense and home training had evaporated. I was hot all over. My nipples were straining against my bra and beginning to hurt.
I jutted my waist restlessly as his very noticeable bulge poked my abdomen. Should we go inside he whispered between kisses as his tongue circled my left earlobe. More sparks coursed through my body sending hot liquid to my woman. "no, here" I breathed surprising even myself. Me? Theresa wanted to make love in the open? My boldness both surprised and intoxicated me. His hand had found my strap and freed my nipples and imprisoned the right one in his mouth, While his other hand found my moist throbbing flesh and sank his finger deep inside me. I let out a raggered groan in pleasure. He pressed into me while his thumb kneaded my clitoris. Slow deep thrusts that drew me closer and closer to explosion. He was good at everything. Scratch that, he was imaginably great at everything. His tongue, his fingers, he was like an expert Formula 1 driver maneuvering all the curves of my body with ease. My hands tugged at his trouser wanting to hold him, to feel the fullness of his shaft. In one swift move, he lifted me and took me to the bonnet of his car. "do you want this? There is no going back from here. I want to fuck you different ways from now to Sunday but I need to be sure this is what you want too".
I nodded and drew his face to cover mine.
Toto Series: Undiluted Worship Pt. 2
by Shitoto.com, published 1 year, 1 month ago
I was still spread out for his viewing pleasure when a thought crossed my mind. We had talked before about the things we would like to do when we eventually meet. Of course at that time I didn't think our meeting was ever going to happen so I painted quite the picture of an explorer, to match him. Even though he was miles a way and there was no chance of us meeting, what he thought of me somehow mattered to me. I closed my legs, did my best pirouette and walked to the door. His eyes followed me. First with surprise and as what I was about to do dawned on him, a sly smile crossed his face.
Here we were in their family compound in Ikeja Lagos state. His great grand mother on his father's side, a princess and last surviving matriarch at 93 had died. It was celebration of life and every member of the family was mandated to come and pay their last respects. There was more celebration than mourning but it was still death that brought everyone together.
I flew in from Kano the night he arrived Nigeria. He came to the airport to carry me himself. When I approached where he was he looked me over as if to to confirm if the pictures we had shared over time was indeed mine. He was also checking to make sure I had complied with his directives. Wear a black Burqa with nothing underneath. "When I see you, I want your nipples straining through the fabric. " I had protested that because of the heavy nature of the garment there is no way my nipples would show even if they were granite. He consented and said I should wear a gold laced black kaftan instead before cutting the call. That shit is transparent ! How can I walk about the airport like that, and in Kano no less ??? You see these Americanas eh ! It's like as soon as the leave the shores of this country and their innit and yo'mehn enters they forget what happens back home. I had watched all three parts of fifty shades of grey so I didn't argue before he would use me to learn work.
I decided to fly the 6:30 PM flight and hoped that it would be dark in Lagos. My prayers were answered. The flight didn't depart Kano until 8 PM and on arrival I quickly went to the bathroom and changed used a shawl to wrap myself until I walked to where he was. So when he looked me over I could see satisfaction. In the car, he ordered me to spread my legs which I did. He brought out a small satchel, like the type men use to keep clippers and all. Inside he brought out a bullet looking thing. It was purple and felt cold to the touch. He placed it on my clitoris and it began to vibrate. He moved it up and down... Up and down.... Up and down. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. "open your eyes. We are in traffic, act normal." I looked at him in wonder. "do you care what people think or what ? " " I don't give a rats ass what they think, this is about me and you. If you make any sound, or close your eyes I'll stop, and you will pay for denying me my pleasure. And trust me, you don't want to make me mad. " I swallowed again. The words were said casually but I'd be a fool if I didn't believe every single word he spoke. I was tempted to tell him to stop there and then but I truly didn't want to get him mad. So I nodded and gestured for him to continue. The slight buzzing began and stimulation followed. I licked my lips and forced my eyes to stay open. I looked out at the other commuters, their faces partly obscured in the growing darkness. I tried to focus on the noise. Lagos go-slow is famous for the drama that always seems to happen. Yet somehow I didn't hear the blasting of horns and the expletives that always followed in Yoruba or pidgin. I didn't even feel the car's movements as his driver tried to maneuver through the chaos. He stopped and put back the gadget into his satchel and smiled at me. we are going to have so much fun you and me he beamed. We rode the rest of the journey in silence me in a puddle of my own making. That was yesterday night.
I walked over to his satchel and opened it. There were things I couldn't even describe inside, so I picked the one I was more familiar with. I have watched too many movies where handcuffs were used and since he is a fan of bondage I figured I could excite him enough to give me an orgasm. He was right behind me. Took the handcuffs and kissed my fingers. His eyes where ablaze. He led me to the closet and handcuffed my hands to one of the high cabinet handles. The feel of cold steel stole some of the warmth from my heart. He gently spread my legs, caressing my thighs, soothing me like a cat about to be put down. His satchel produced ropes he used to tie my legs each to a lower drawer on either side. I was spread wide and he stared in satisfaction.
Then he knelt under me.
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Toto Series: Vibes and Insha Allah
by Shitoto.com, published 1 year, 2 months ago
"Why won't you look into me when we fuck?"
I was buckling my shoes when I heard him from the bed. I heard the slight shake in his voice. He was trying to pass this off as casual talk after a very thoroughly satisfying session but I knew better. I wanted to tell him the truth. He was just a random dick I enjoyed now and then, nothing more.
Instead, I climbed into the bed, still wet from our latest session and kissed him deep in the mouth. I teased the insides of his mouth, while giving him soft bites on his full, soft-like-marshmallows lips. He sighed as if in resignation, and matched me tease for tease. I came up for air. Kunle, knew the assignment. When it came to my body's needs, he understood the assignment.
"You make it so. How can I control myself when you get me fucked up. Literally!"
His lips parted in a full smile and I mirrored his. No need hurting his feelings. I needed him to be happy. A happy dick is a more than capable dick. I made a mental note to send him extra money as my driver drove me out of his premises.
Kunle and I met at a Christmas food drive. I had sponsored the drive for 70 widows. On the 20th of December, I got a call from my assistant that some of the volunteers were a no show. That was how I drove to the venue in my jeans and Tees to lend a hand.
He looked at me and I guess he tried to asses my level of importance and judged I was just another volunteer in the ranks. I played along while he tried to school me on the art of volunteering. "you see this gig? Don't stress too much. Just show up and smile. You already have your looks and body working in your favor. After the whole event make an endearing post on social media. This one has been paid for by an annoynmous person which means you can take credit. You sha have to do it codedly, that way you don't get into trouble.
He was a pro. He made sure everybody was coordinated. He took pictures, gave lectures, cracked jokes, pep talks, the whole works. By the time we arrived the point of departure, I was worn out, but fond of him. He collected my number and promised to call. I didn't think much of it, but was happy when he did call.
I was going through a messy divorce that had me flying to and fro the US and Nigeria. His calls always served as salve to my frayed nerves. I knew I was a mark but I didn't care. I allowed myself to feel wanted again. To feel young and desirable.
After a truly nerve wrecking week, I called him. His number was switch off. I couldn't get a hold of him. I asked my assistant to find him and when she couldn't, I fired her. I entered my car by 11 pm and drove round town. I went to all his hangout spots - the ones he had told me about. He wasn't there either. It was like he had vanished. I finally summed up courage to drive to his place. He didn't know I had gotten someone to find out information about him. Since I was sure I was a mark, I needed to know who I was dealing with. Looking back at that faithful night as I headed for my 4pm appointment at the state secretariat building, it was sheer madness. Madness I tell you. I was behind the wheel looking like Cruella Davil with my hair disheveled and smudged makeup. I arrived his home and was grateful there was still lights on inside. I was at the door knocking. It was like I was being propelled beyond my will. Like a lightly puppet strung to a mad puppeteer. He opened the door and the look on his face should have sent me back into my car, to my house, into the earth and stay there. But the puppeteer wasn't quite finished with me. In a rush of words, tumbling over each other I told him to fuck me untill I lost my mind. "I don't think you need me for that. The loosing your mind part. Margaret, what are you doing here?" He looked up and down the street, I guess trying to make sense of what was going on. "Kunle, I need you to do all the things you said you would do to me when you catch me. And I need you to do it to me now." He led me into his apartment but the look of biwildment mixed with panic stuck on his rough face.
Even in the madness of the moment, I noticed the fresh breakouts and wondered what could have caused the violent redness scattered accros his face. Kunle at 26 had a smooth face like that of a teen pre puberty. I asked him for something hot and he got me coffee.
"Margaret, what is going on?"
I dropped the mug on the carpet and walked over to where he sat opposite me. I tried to remember how to be sexy. It felt like many lifetimes ago I was this way. Iman, my soon to be ex husband had been more than generous with his criticism of my body. I unzipped the bubu I was wearing and let it fall to the ground. "Kunle, I said I'm here to get fucked till I lose my mind."
That was four months ago.
The 4pm appointment would drag on till 10 pm. I had sent the driver home by 8pm together with the car. I hated to overstretch my workers and Fabian, my driver who had stuck with me even after his Oga, my now ex husband had left - had a 6 week old baby at home and needed to be with his wife.
By 10: 16 pm I stepped out of No 7 Tonga drive, adjacent to the state secretariat building, to a chill night. I adjusted my coat to ward off the cold and began walking down the streets. It was a beautiful night and I opted to walk instead of the offers to drop me off. Kunle said he was 12 minutes out. I figured that by the time I'd reached the intersection, by the overhead bridge, he'd be there. My heels as the hit the newly laid asphalt echoed in the quiet, causing a certain lull as I walked on.
"Kin kawo mana mai"
I spun at the voice so close behind me. It was dark, so I couldn't make out the face, but I saw four forms. I nodded to an inaudible greeting and continued walking down. I've experienced fear and intimidation most of my adult life. Growing up in a place like Jenta Adamu prepares you for the scum of the earth. I've faced intimidation in South Africa and the US. In business, in relationships, in life. I've always been a fighter.
"Na che kin kawo mana mai "? This voice belonged to a different speaker. His voice sounded hoarse and had a bite to it, unlike the first one. They had kept up the pace with me. I closed my eyes as the unwanted bubble rose to my throat. Fear. Living in Jenta felt so otherworldly, like a distant dream. A terribly bad dream. I kept walking, willing Kunle to appear. The cynical side of me still purred, hands akinbo to question "What are you expecting Kunle to do? He's only good for fuck. How is he going to help you now?"
"Ke" his hand touched my shoulder and I took off. I began to run but it was futile. In my new Guiseppe Zanotti sandals, it was difficult to run. And I couldn't fling them because of the buckles. One of the boys tackled me to the ground. He was over me, punching the back of my head, hard. The rest surrounded me. The one who tackled me, called Ahmed, used my newly installed wig to pull me back towards where I was coming from. The pain seared through me, as my face burned, and my hair ripped. Ahmed, taunted and cursed me in Hausa while the others laughed on.
"shegiya kowai. Kin fi ni gudu ko ? Ina kudi'n da su mazan chan sun baki da an gama chin ki?" "Za ki chi Ubanki, shegiya har kin sani gudu." He kept at it. Cursing me while pulling me down the road. Eventually, the wig ripped off and they all laughed as if on queue. He commanded me to stand. I couldn't. So I lay still. That earned me a kick in the ribs. I was incapable of wailing anymore. My tears, mingled with blood and sand flowed down my torn face. He commanded I stand again while one of them busied himself removing my jewelry, shoes, and other valuables. I braced myself for the assault I was sure was coming. It didn't come. I heard a thud, like a heavy sack falling, then footsteps receding. I didn't dare raise my head. I couldn't even if I wanted to. So I lay there expecting the worst.
"Margerate". It was Kunle. Relief washed over me and I suddenly found my voice. He lifted me like a rag doll, over his shoulder, in the dark and took me to his car. He dropped me gingerly in the back seat and made to close the door. I didn't mean to, but my fingers dug into him as I reached out to him. "don't leave me here" I managed to say through my sobbing. I was badly shaking. He needed to get the rest of my items he said. "Please don't go" I said over and over again untill he entered the car with me. He made a cryptic call then put the car into gear.
He took me to a private clinic inside Dong, away from scrutiny. I was examined, cleaned and stitched up. I had lost some blood and he was given a list of drugs and food items to place me on immidiately. No questions asked, no answers offered. On our way back, he stopped at around wild life park and turned off the engine. I'd been given a cocktail of drugs that had began to kick in, but somehow I could hear his phone conversation. There was a sentence that stuck. It was as loud as if he shouted it into my brain. "Leave that one, na me go kill am". I fought the blackness. What did he mean by that? Kunle... How ? Who do you want to kill Kunle?