Story: “Ekaette’s Confession” (Episode 8 (+18)

    I woke him up, lifted my hips. He was awake and ready for the action, he pulled my tank top up and over my head. I watched him passively when he pulled my skirt down along with my panties. Slowly, he got up on his knees and pulled off his shirt and shed his flannel bottoms and boxers. My Skin was literally tingling with anticipation but I knew I was walking a fine line.

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    He settled down between my legs and kissed my shoulder. I felt the weight of his shaft laying right beside my c**kie. He’s back again. Live and Kicking! He was warm and hard and just right f**king there. He penetrated inside me… it was so warm and slippery. I was crazy wet and ready for him.

    Me: “Baby can you please go faster?” He nodded. He moved faster. I was moaning like crazy. He pulled me up and we flipped, now sitting on him. He bangs me harder and harder, I was getting wet and more wet, then I realized we weren’t using protection, even right from the car scene.

    Me: James, we don’t have a condom?”

    James: Don’t worry I won’t come inside.

    I wasn’t sure if he came inside me when we were at the field earlier. I felt like I couldn’t breathe as he was going faster inside me.

    My thighs clenched around his waist and he moaned, pressing against me harder and slipping between my folds. My legs started to shake as he slid his arms beneath me, holding me close to his chest and resting his chin on my head. I felt completely wrapped up in him as he began to thrust in earnest. Sharp stabs of arousal fluttered around in my stomach and my clit was throbbing with each connection of our pubic bones. He was pumping into me with purpose, not quickly but not gently. I gripped onto his back, my fingers slipping on the remnants of oil on his skin. My face was pressed against his sternum as we rocked together. I had little leeway but I still managed to meet his thrusts. The muggy heat generated by our bodies made my face and chest start to sweat. The scent of the massage oil was heady and thick around us as we came undone.

    Faster and faster, his pace began to pickup until his hips were slamming into the cradle of my thighs. We finally came the second time at same time.

    That was the last time i saw James. I missed him alot. I missed his long shaft. His foreplays. What a great Banger!
    ==RepNaija Adult StOries==
    It was cold at the funeral. The rain dropping around Ikoyi area was a rare kinda. The leaves dropped like dead flies. A few landed on her coffin. It suddenly looked like Halloween: orange leaves laid against a dark wooden box. My father stood silent beside me. His eyes were red-rimmed, yet I had never seen him cry. He had been in this state of almost-crying for a week now. Good for him; I hadn’t shed a tear, and my eyes were nowhere near red. No, not even pink.

    I didn’t feel guilty. Death didn’t scare me; talking about it didn’t bother me. Death wasn’t sad, it was just natural.

    It was my mother’s funeral and my second cousin’s sister’s mother-in-law was crying harder than I was. Even the dogs howled their mourning, sniffing forlornly at the edges of the sinking casket as it was lowered into the earth.

    I didn’t miss her. I wasn’t sad. All I could feel was a bland acceptance. The soil thudded onto her coffin wetly. It had started to drizzle, and black umbrellas – perfect for solemn times like this – popped open one by one. From the sky, I imagined, it would look like a large black canvas had materialized across the grass.

    I gripped my umbrella tightly, studying my dark gloves, shimmering in places where the pale sunlight hit them. I had no other gloves. The ones I was wearing were for dinner parties. They were itchy and I couldn’t wait to take them off.

    I was at our parents’ home. I wouldn’t want to leave my Dad alone in the house after mom’s demise. I stood on my bare feet in the middle of my room. My old room before I moved out of parent’s house. I took my gloves off and threw them in some dark corner in my closet. I scratched furiously up and down my arms, irritated that my father had forced me to wear gloves even if it wasn’t too cold out. He’s a fashion man. He likes doing his stuff with swag.

    I went inside the kitchen, prepared what to eat. Dinner that night was quiet. It was to be expected. My father and I had said nothing to each other since we got home. John did not come home that night. He was married and living with his family.

    Finally, my father spoke.

    Dad: “You’re not eating much.”

    The silence was awkward. I didn’t know what to say.

    My father cleared his throat.

    Dad: “You looked nice today. At the funeral.” “It was kind of warm.” “Because of the gloves. I know you didn’t want to wear them. I’m glad you did.”

    That didn’t touch me. I felt I was missing my mom. I never missed her before her death. Something just hit me that i’ve lost a good treasure of life. That was when I really felt for my Dad. His heartrobe is gone. He will be missing her for the rest of his life. Mom died of Cancer. No one could save her.

    Me: “I’m sorry, Dad.” I’m feeling for you. You will be so lonely now since mom is gone.

    I looked up at my father. Looked into his almost-crying eyes. I wondered if he ever did cry.

    Me: “Can I sleep with you tonight? We could stay up and talk about her if you like.”

    My father nodded silently. He almost smiled, but this wasn’t a time for smiling.








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