Showing pages tagged "erotica"
Snr Smooth's moniker since his Junior class was “Smooth” even the teachers called him “Smooth”; he was that kind of guy, ruddy cheeked, dark like his favourite Guinness stout beer, Hercules built, barrel chested, a smile that charmed the other sex, and lips that sang sweet tales of danger and mischief to his peers. His eyes dazzled in the sun light glinting of knowledge and bad behavior which he always got away with and well-trimmed finger nails that you could put anywhere.
Legend has it that he got his name from Mrs Ada the English teacher in his first year after he had told her “you’re the best thing I’ve seen this morning since slice bread”, and instead of flogging him, she looked at the then youngin with admiration and uttered the words that will forever be his, “Smooth”. As he promoted in college, the name became “S” to his peers as a tribute to his sins, “Snr. Smooth” to his underlings, and “Smooth” to his superiors.
My first ideas of pollution came from Snr Smooth, he who was never out of his way when any avenue of imparting his lessons of lewdness availed itself. He considered it his fatherly duty to school me in the affairs of the world in which I was dangerously naïve of. Knowing no vice, I feared none.
Like a pupil true to his tutor, I soaked every word from his lips like gospel truth, and absorbed his dictates like the commandments. I was a lesser being where he stood. Imagine to yourself, a boy of eleven, small for his age from the legacies of malnutrition, acne covered face, and a shifty eye that bulged out of their sockets like I was being strangled. Yet I was the chosen protégé of Snr Smooth, he praised me highly before his peers as a being modelled after his intellect and tongue; and he said “You my boy have the gift of the silver tongue, you may not have the looks, but what man needs money when he can make a woman smile?”
My tasks at his hands were first elementary, I delivered letters he wrote. I watched his sleek cursive movements on rose scented papers, and crammed his wrist flicks to become mine and in no time, I could draw words on paper in such perfect manner that I graduated in post to his official letter writer. A post much coveted and created specially for me; a post which allowed me to learn words necessary for wooing, and gave me the impetus to speak sounds of adulation to the fairer sex.
At this time, all the tyranny and fears of girls in me was reduced to nothing but a trickle which still worries me even now. Memories of those dark days still flash in my mind, and I marvel at how far I have come.
Allow me to proceed with my remembrance of my first kiss, which I dare say Smooth had a hand in preparing me for. My lesson lasted every free hour of a fortnight as I had to conclude other chores before learning this art. I was instructed from appearances down to conversations, sitting positions and of course how to do the deed. In my mind, such a precious act should be performed together with the one who holds your heart, (Plangnan of my primary school days). The hands of fate however pointed a different direction. Snr Smooth had several ideas, and as the tutor, he shared his knowledge and strategems with me in bits. The thing is, Smooth didn’t want me to botch my first kiss so he made plans. His arrangements resulted in me having an unofficial first kiss, and an official first kiss, a conundrum that brought out in me my true Casanova. My unofficial first kiss was with a senior named Beauty, she wasn’t really a beauty but she had a beautiful heart and Smooth had a soft spot for her. In his words, “I won’t risk your first kiss to stories, we shall test your aptitude practically and correct all flaws, I want your reputation to grow".
It was on a dark Saturday night, cladded in hoods as dodgers hiding away from evening devotion, we huddled ourselves in the infirmary and so my learning began. She took me by the hand and placed her lush soft lips on mine. I never noticed, but Snr. Beauty’s lips were beautiful and made for more than just eating and talking; they also defied the harmattan that was cracking the whole school’s lips and heels. As she sucked on my tongue, the fervor made me feel a rise in tide in my nether regions; my breath was being taken away but there was palpitating life down there.
As I returned the favour with the energies of eager learning and floods of bliss, I added twists of my imaginations learned from Smooth’s tales and her eyes lolled and rolled with a tinge of surprise and excitement tingling and coursing through her body, bringing with it passions of pleasure she was well familiar with. As all the tyranny of pleasure ebbed out of my body, the agonies of fading delight overwhelmed me, I was left flustered in all areas with a lingering feeling on the verge of sprouting forth those liquid thrills common to our over excited sex at the point of reaching apogee. Life as I knew it had just taken a turn, the new knowledge in me surged and wanted more, driven by a desire for finding things hitherto unknown to me.
I received high praises from Smooth who had witnessed this initiation solemnly like the High Priest of Casanova’s temple, presiding over the sacred rites of passing the mantle to a new found and worthy disciple.
Isn’t it funny that no matter what you are going through life is happening? Like you can be in the deepest of shits and someone is pissing the champagne they got drunk on celebrating all over you. Life is always happening.
I sat in the front seat still strapped waiting for Angela to get back. She had left the key in the ignition and left the stereo on so that I won’t be bored but instead the music kept annoying me with each new song. Do people really listen to the garbage this singers spew? And it’s played on radio? Even though I admit that my anger wasn’t entirely because of the music, I reached for the knob to turn it off. Maybe my mind would have some quiet to sieve through its own noise.
“We interrupt regular broadcast…”
the voice of the announcer rough and untidy interrupted the song and my action.
“… Listen to this. Following the fresh wave of the new virus, federal government is pressed to announce with immediate effect the closing down of all schools, public and private. All places of worship and leisure. Interstate travel will also be restricted to only personal on essential duty; our security forces, medical personnel and the media. These measures are necessary to ensure the safety of lives of every Nigerian and government is deeply saddened by any inconvenience this may cause. States are advice to follow the safety guidelines in establishing their containment strategies. God bless the… ”
” hope I didn’t take too long? The queue was something else” Angela burst into the car interrupting the rest of the announcement. She put the takeaway packs and other items in the back seat.
“Are you okay?”
She queried and I nodded. Another lock down? This is the type of material nightmares are made of.
“Are you sure you are okay?”
” Dude, just drive okay! ”
” you don’t have to yell at me. Be a sour puss all you want but that attitude better be fixed by the time we arrive Tim’s place.”
Another lock down? With immediate effect? Did this fuckers ever think anything through before making these pronouncements? Could this country survive another round of lock downs? This was some real bullshit. I needed out of here!
“why da fuck is this happening?” I cursed under my breath.
“I heard you say something. Spit it”
“If you heard then why da fuck are you now asking me”?
“I didn’t hear the words and what exactly is wrong with you? Why are you acting like I drowned your cat???”
“I am so not in the mood for this okay… Just drive. Mtcheeew… In fact what did you get for lunch?”
“Are you doing this on purpose? Are you acting mad because it turns me on? If you want some of this… Just say so! She took her hand off the steering wheel to demonstrate her whole body. She knew how to make my frown turn upside down.
“You dey ment. Maifren what did you get for lunch?”
I smiled as I searched the backseat where she dropped the takeaway packs, choosing spaghetti and turkey wings.
Angela and I had shared a total of ten words during our first three years of school. She was a “chirpy-the-day-is-always-sunny-and I’m a pretty yellow flower girl and I kept away from her lot. I was a loner and it served me well.
We actually got to know each other during a school field trip. We had all been paired, two to a room to save cost and we ended up in the same room. I only slept in the room at night to avoid her and her brainless lot. She always had people drawn to her. Like some queen bee. Urgh!
On the day we were to visit the palace of the Ewi of Ado Ekiti, a day before our departure that is, we both woke up by 10am, the bus left since 8:30 am. We then had the grand idea, well actually she had the idea to follow them even though none of us knew the place or knew a word of Yoruba in case we needed directions. The taxi we hired took us to the Ejeye Oka Ere Shrine and left even before we could confirm if the location was correct.
After plenty fails at describing where we needed to be, a good Samaritan offered to take us there. That Samaritan would end up robbing us and leaving us on the side of the road, where we thinking the day couldn’t possibly get worst got drenched by the hardest rain I’ve ever felt. It was like we were being flogged by an unseen old woman for missing the bus.
By this time I was too angry for words. My anger swelled and spilled over my wet cheeks merging with the large strokes pelting my head and back. Angela on the other hand was laughing and talking about looking at the bright side of things.
Even though we had spent the last 3 hours getting fucked, she was all giddy and sunny. That made me even angrier. While we contemplated our next line of action, the bus we missed just happened to pass us. We rode the bus in silence while our lecturer saw it as a teachable moment and went on a tirade of why we should utilize all opportunities or end up miserable like Angela and Edidiong. By the time we reached the hotel I was ready to carve my brains out with a blunt rusty knife. I went up to our room while our lecturer gave Angela orders on whatever. I wasn’t going to stick around longer for the over twenty pairs of eyes judging, pitying and gloating at my predicament. Fuck them all.
I sat at the edge of the bathtub and let my tears fall unhindered. The monies I lost wasn’t even my problem, it’s the fact that I was taken for a fool. Growing in Asaba, you learn quickly that the difference between life and death is gullibility. Person wey fit make you believe am fit kill you. And such an easy con?
It was all Angela’s fault. I actually got caught up in her optimistic spirit and see where it landed me. The door creak interrupted my hiss. And just like the devil being summoned; Angela was inside the bathroom with me. Naked and muddy with that godforsaken smile on her face.
“Can’t you see the bathroom is occupied? ”
She entered the bathtub with me and turned on the shower head. She squealed as the water cold as ice sprayed us. Her squeal tuned into a giggle and full blown laugher while my body shook in anger. That’s when she kissed me. It was a collusion of her lips against mine. That jolted me out of the bathtub, out of the bathroom and almost out of the hotel room. She followed me dripping wet and laughing.
“Don’t evert try that shit!” I shouted. My voice sounding strangely thinner than usual.
“Why? I saw the way you’ve been looking at me throughout today. Don’t tell me…”
“You’re very mad. Who was looking at you? I no dey play this kain game so if this is a joke you better stop it.”
She walked up to me. Stood until our nose touched then lifted my left hand and placed on her breasts. I jerked at the feel of her skin against my palm. But she held it There. I swallowed hard. What was suddenly stuck in my throat? And why was I panting? What was happening to me??
She moved my palm over her breasts in an up down motion. My eyes fluttered closed. I swallowed. I felt her lips. Soft and moist brush over my lips. I tried to open my eyes, I tried to speak, to push her away but I couldn’t move. It was like I was in a trance, awake to every sensation coursing through my body but unable to move. My lips parted and her tongue gained entrance. She played with my lower lip, allowing her lips and teeth and tongue gain familiarity of my mouth as she pressed harder on my palms.
She left my hands to wonder over the marvel of her anatomy while she touched on mine. Her cold hands sent a shiver down my entire body. She rolled her tongue over mine and tugged on my nipple simultaneously eliciting a deep throaty moan from me. Her tongue was on my neck while her hands were rubbing my breasts showing me places to also touch on her body. It was too much, there was too much happening at once. I pulled back panting like I’d just escaped being mauled by a cheetah.
“I’ve never done this before.”
She gave me a knowing node and led me to the bed.
“Just let go of everything. Follow the flow.”
“You are not hearing me. I said I’ve never been with a woman before. This is so wrong.”
She looked me deep into my eyes before kissing my lips.
“Does this feel wrong?”
She kissed my neck and whispered into my ear.
“Does this feel wrong to you?”
She sucked on my nipple drawing me deep into her mouth before giving me the lightest bite.
“Does this feel wrong.”
She rubbed on the mouth of my vagina lightly before pressing her Index and forefinger into my moist opening. The moan escaped even before I knew there was a buildup. I shut my eyes and swallowed.
“Does this feel wrong to you?”
She asked in the most ethereal voice as her fingers worked me. My body was on fire yet I wanted more. My throat was patched and no matter how much I swallowed I still needed more. My legs couldn’t hold my weight anymore but it didn’t matter because I was floating. I was weightless as her stroking intensified. There I was in a swanky hotel room being pleasured by a woman who was making me feel things I’d never Felt. My orgasm hit me. Fast and hard. I’d never had an orgasm so there was no anticipating It. I felt a jolt like sensation that spread from the back of my head to every single part of my body. It was like I was being fed with electric current low enough to survive and high enough to force screaming from me. She held on to me until the spasms had run its course.
The next day as soon as we arrived campus, I shaved my hair into a mowhawk.
That was seven years ago. We hadn’t been in the same city since after graduation and lost all communications until the first lock down saw us quarantined together in Melbourne. She was running a course that I was facilitating. I’d moved to Sidney to avoid Nigerians and their small mindedness after I’d come out to my mum and she in turn told my dad who arranged for me to be married to his old friend’s son who funny enough was a closet gay. He was willing to go ahead with the union to end months of bullying and threats. I wasn’t. My dad gave me an ultimatum. Be married or disowned. I chose the latter. I left home, Nigeria and everything in it with the intention of never returning until I walked into the lecture hall that faithful winter morning and saw Angela in all her giddiness. She had grown from the girl in Ekiti to a sophisticated woman. She’d been sent by her company which according to her was going to be headed by her in the fall. She had moved up and it showed on her. She’d replaced her jeans with pencil skirts braids with a bob complete with rich hues. Her makeup was subtle and accentuated her high cheekbones and brown eyes.
After the lecture she came to introduce herself. I’d acted like she was just another post graduate foreign student and didn’t allow my gaze linger beyond seconds. I feigned ignorance then surprise then anger. She was all apologies and laughter. She was staying at the Atlantis and wouldn’t mind if we meet up sometime for drinks. I told her it was against school policy to frolic with students.
“Even old friends?”
“First of all there is nothing old about you, and secondly sadly even old friends.”
For the next three months we shared the same space and built up so much tension. We could’ve powered a village for weeks. It was always there; the undercurrent of desire. Being in the same room and acting like strangers took every single strength I could master. I became irritable and curt with my students. My normal mild Gothic brooding turned into full darkened skies. The more angry I got, the more turned on she became, the more she tried to get me the more I acted. A full circle of intense fucking without any of the pleasure.
After a particularly fucked up day, I called her up in the evening and invited her to my place for drinks. As soon she stepped into the room I pounced on her. She was still giddy and mischievous but I was a grown woman who had tore through women in three countries. This time around I was in charge and I wanted to fuck through the tension of the past three months. I wanted to fuck her smile off her face. She’d taught me a few tricks back in uni, I was about to show her new international tricks.
Her lips were still as soft as I remembered. We were both in a rush to familiarize our lips, hands, bodies. Our clothes left a trail from the living room door to the bed. I made her sit on my fingers. Spreading wide, jutting her juiced big butt filling my grateful palms. Her grind was rhythmic. Deep deep.. Round deep… Low curl deep… Deep deep. I followed her tempo moving to her grind. Giving her room to drive us there. Before long, her head fell to the side in the way I knew her eruption was near.
Not so fast.
I stood up lifting her with her butt to my face. I dropped her on the top of my drawers and went in. She tasted soft like hot marshmellows melting in my mouth. Her nails dug into my back sending me deeper. I could feel her thighs squeeze in as the night was rendered by her moans. She cames in gusts.. Her breath and juices erupted staccato like. She smiled at me as I took her to the bed.
You ain’t seen nothing yet.
I wore Hercules. All my straps had names. Hercules was my 7 inch pink dildo. I hovered above her, guiding hercules like à taunt arrow.
“I want to have you in the shower. That’s where I got my first taste of your lips, it’s only right I give you a taste of the monster you made there”
She giggled as she caressed the side of my face. She paused as though an unpleasant thought reached out to steal her joy.
“Is that what you think of yourself? A monster?”
“I’d let you be the judge of that. ”
I’ve not been with anyone else. I couldn’t bring myself to be with someone else after you left.”
“After I left? You and I remember what happened differently. It doesn’t even matter now, we are here. We should be fucking not talking.”
“It matters to me. Do you know what you did? How I felt when you left? No word, no explanation, just silence.”
WHAT! How was she spread in my bed in the glow of her cum fresh and poignant and saying I left her? She must have bumped her head on the wall while I gave her head. Maybe instead of cum she’d orgasmed brain matter.
“That’s your problem”
She knew better than to continue any conversation after I’d said those words. She knew that was me checking out.
She reached out with both hands and pinched my nipples, hard ! My groan was a throaty broken AHhhh.. Hh!
I thrust in ferociously. She spread open welcoming my deep assault. I was like a hell hound following a faint scent. She was my gateway yet I was doomed to always remain imprisoned. I thrust deeper burying her betrayal. Enveloping myself in the softness of her insides where the sting of her throwing away my love pure and fierce couldn’t reach.
Watching her in the throes of passion drove me mad with desire. She didn’t hold anything back. She gave and received in equal measure. I flipped her over and she provided the perfect arch.
I went in!
I tasted of her offering.
She was flowing with molten necter. She was swollen with pleasure and I sucked and teased and drew sounds of music from her.
When her whimpering grew deeper I thrust into her again..driving her to platforms she’d never been on, taking her through dark alleys of desire she’d never knew existed.
I felt my jerking and knew the inevitable was near. Holding on for dear life I exploded in to tiny fragments of nothingness.
“Still think I’m not a monster?”
she insisted we take a shower but we ended up fucking again. After a dinner of Chinese takeout we were back in my bed. I never allowed any woman sleep in my bed. But here she was all comfortable and shit in my sweatshirt and socks.
“You’re sweet. I don’t know why you think you need to hide behind your clothes and hair and all this..
“Anger? That seems to be your Achilles no?”
The giggle was back.
“I don’t even know how even after all these years you still have a hold on me. Mehn. And the way you fuck? Omo! I almost passed out! That thing you did in the bathroom, I’ve never experienced sensations like that ever. I mean, even if I want to; I can’t claim to have made this monster as you say.”
You were the first woman I was ever with. And it’s not like I wanted to be with a woman before. Sometimes I remember Ekiti and I wonder if we hadn’t gotten lost and duped and drenched, if you hadn’t walked into the bathroom or kissed me, I’d probably be in Ikorodu with two children and a husband stuck in the madness of that city. With no one this wiser. Even if you don’t claim it, you actually made me come to terms with who I am.”
She’d moved into my apartment three days later and a week after that the first quarantine measures where invoked. She was always calling home. The protests in various cities, the warehouse looting she kept tabs on it all. That was also when I knew about Tim. She’d met Tim during our final exams and they’d been together ever since. They were clearly in love. The way she became animated when she talked about him. The way she’d cry silently on nights she spoke to him. That was who she had chosen over me.
She’d introduced me as her best friend and I smiled and waved into the camera when they FaceTimed. As soon as travel restrictions were eased she was on the next available flight back to Nigeria leaving me with a broken heart for the same man again.
Four months ago she faced timed me to show me her ring. Tim had proposed and they were getting married. It was going to be a small wedding with mostly family and a few friends. She wanted me to be her made of honor. I’d cried that night. This woman that had been my first lover, that had made me realize what loving someone totally was, was asking me to come and bear witness as she gave of herself to another man. And somehow I’d agreed? The tears wouldn’t stop flowing. I called the twins and even that couldn’t stop my broken river banks.
It’s been two weeks since I arrived Lagos and the tension between us had already peaked. My consolation was that in two more weeks this will all be over and I’d call up Boirj to exorcise Angela’s memory. That was until the announcement over the radio of another lock down with immediate effect.
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