Fixing My Generator


Fix my generator tigah

I heard a knock at my gate and went to check who it was. Since my Gateman took a leave of absence earlier in the week, I had been saddled with the responsibility of opening and closing my gate after myself. Thankfully, he would be back tomorrow.

“who’s there?” I asked as I got to the gate. Looking through the peephole hadn’t provided any answers as the good looking young man I saw bore no resemblance to anyone I knew.

“madam na me. I come repair your gen, na oga send me.”

Ah! So Chief had made good on his word, I thought, immediately opening the gate for the young man.

“wetin be your name?” I asked, my eyes immediately drawn to his chest and biceps beneath the sleeveless t-shirt he wore. I was instantly attracted to the raw masculinity that emanated from him. Unsullied by any city swag or the trappings of a socially aware mind. He was so naturally male and that was an instant turn on. I licked my lips in anticipation.

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I’m here to light up your generator

“na Okon ma. Oga send me say your gen no dey gree start again, na hin I com look am. Wey d gen dey make I see wetin dey do am.”

At this point, my eyes had left his chest to settle on his full lips. I momentarily imagined what ‘damage’ those lips could do to my pussy lips and I smiled at Chief’s idea of a birthday gift. I took Okon to the back of the house where the generator stood and went back into the house, instructing him to call me when he was done.

The relationship between Chief and I was a curious one. I enjoyed being his mistress. An affair is very different than a marriage because you can break it off at anytime. And this man made life very exciting. It was never dull around him. I like when a man has money and he can take me places and buy me things. All women do. Don’t let anybody tell you differently, okay? If he would buy his wife a present, he would buy me a better one. He once bought her a diamond bracelet, and the next day he brought me a gorgeous diamond earring, necklace and bracelet set, very expensive. Tit for tat. This house, the cars parked in the garage…everything was taken care of by Chief. Nothing was too good for me.

Apart from the perks, Chief was also a very good lover and we helped each other fulfill our fantasies. Last time we saw, I had mentioned to him in passing how I often wondered how it would feel to seduce and fuck an extremely physically attractive Calabar handyman. He had joked about how I might end up getting romantically entangled with the fellow and how we would then elope to live in abject poverty in Calabar, fucking ourselves into penury as the days went by. We had a hearty laugh at that and then it was forgotten.

Yet, here was Okon. This million-dollar pussy (as Chief fondly called it), was gonna get whammed!

“Madam! Madam!” Okon’s call snapped me out of my reverie and I immediately dashed into the bedroom to change into something more suitable.

I changed into a short skater skirt and a cropped tee baring my toned midriff, and then splashed some water over the chest area. My big round tits shoved against the material of the top and my nipples stood out majestically. I smiled at my reflection in the mirror before walking out to join Okon, a packet of condoms partly hidden in my hand.

Walking towards him, I saw his eyes widen at my transformation and then the unmistakable tightening around the crotch area as his dick grew in approval.

“start the gen make I confirm if you don do am”

Still visibly shaken, he bent to start the gen and the outline of his taut ass bent at that angle sent my blood racing. The generator roared to life and then he turned it off almost immediately.

“make I start am myself, you know say these things get as dem dey be”

He moved aside to make room for me to start the generator and I bent over in front of him. My really short shirt instantly hiked up revealing my nice round ass. I glanced in between my legs and caught Okon staring wide-eyed at me with his mouth gaping open. I smiled. My plan was working. This was going to be the best birthday sex a girl ever had.
bend-at-the-waist-16

“Okon come help me drag this skirt down abeg”

“err madam, you wan make I drag your skirt come down?”

“I carry water for mouth? Come drag this thing make I for check if this gen don ready”

I saw him walk unsteadily towards me, closing the distance between us in a few short strides. His hands made to pull my skirt down and his now cold palms brushed against my exposed ass cheek in the process. That single touch immediately set off a tremor that traveled all the way to my spine and caused a pool of heat to settle in my money maker.

girl

I want some o that Calabar banana

I. Was. So. Fucking. Horny.

After he pulled down my skirt, he stood uncertainly behind me, perhaps trying to decide what was expected of him…but trust a Calabar man to always come through when there’s sex on the table.

I turned around to face him, smiling seductively. He reached out and ran his hands gently down my neck and across my breasts. I felt my nipples stand erect from his warm breath as he bent and sucked gently on them. Then his hands were sliding down over my waist, around my belly button, closer now to my pelvis and ever so gently, he parted those lips to find me hot and wet. My bud throbbing, just waiting to be caressed. His mouth moved down slowly to join his fingers and he began to lick and suck…gently at first then he went into Calabar mode. I leaned on the wall for support, feeling myself getting wetter as my body tingled all over with desire.

“ohhh yesss, take me home papa!” I moaned spreading my legs further apart for him to enter but he stayed kissing, licking and blowing on my hot, ripe bud that felt ready to explode.  Finally, when I was just about to lose it completely, he took the condom from me, pushed me down on the generator and my now very wet pussy welcomed his long hard cock. Gently at first, then he went harder, more insistent. I held on to the generator while he held my butt. Faster, faster, both bodies slippery with sweat, until I felt the final rise and shudder as we both came together and crashed heavily on the generator.

“Okon, you know you have to return to fix this generator” I said to him, out of breath.

“ah madam, I go dey come fix your generator any time wey you want am”

I momentarily pondered on whether he meant my generator or my generator but I was too tired to give it any thought. Smiling excitedly, I let him lift me off the generator and carry me into the house for some more fixing.

Give me some more Okon

I AM CHINWE- THIS IS MY STORY


isetfiretotherain:

This could have been anyone, that is the most chilling part. We have all made friends off social media, Twitter especially. Some more than others. May God bless us all with the spirit of discernment and good judgement.

Originally posted on WELCOME TO IN AMEHS WORDS:

black-woman-crying-300x222Hi all,
This is a little story I want to share, it’s a tale of pain,sorrow and remorse , and as always I will appeal that you read it and make sense of it, and share it.

The names, dates and events have been altered, so any similarities are entirely coincidental.

I stood in line behind her trying to get a doughnut at an eatery, been a while I had a doughnut, so I was willing to endure the chatter of a young lady in front of us, she seemed engrossed with her mobile phone, typing away, receiving calls and describing what she had on, and looking around as if expecting to see someone, it was getting quite annoying and I soon realized I was not the only one feeling that way, the lady in front of me shared the same notion and hissed loudly between intervals, I would later…

View original 2,695 more words

A Promise Is A Promise


International-Womens-Day-Quotes-Poems-SMS-Messages-2013

“There is one universal truth, applicable to all countries, cultures and communities: violence against women is never acceptable, never excusable, never tolerable.” – Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon

This year, the conversation revolves around ending violence against women. This is a topic I’m particularly concerned about, people constantly ask me: “why do you write so much about rape and molestation of women?” Well, if in writing, one less woman is raped, one more person is made aware of the perils women face, one more woman is armed to protect herself and other women around her, then my job is done. I write about it because I am tired of speaking about this matter in hushed tones, because women everywhere are getting raped and barely anything is being done about it.

Worldwide today:

  • Up to 50% of sexual assaults are committed against girls under the age of 16.
  • Globally, 603 million women live in countries where domestic violence is not yet considered a crime.
  • Up to 70% of women in the world report having experienced physical and/or sexual violence at some point in their lifetime.
  • Over 60 million girls worldwide are child brides, married before the age of 18

The entire world is talking about the achievements of women, yet the increasing cases of rape, murder, molestations, abuse, depravation and neglect of women begs the question: are we ready to celebrate women in their entirety on this day or is it another one of those honorary days we set aside that don’t really mean anything? Organizing gatherings and functions to make soothing speeches praising women’s courage, perseverance, strength and contributions to society in the name of women’s day hardly holds water if the women we celebrate still do not feel safe in their own country(ies). We need to have a society where a woman does not feel the need to watch what she wears or says because she fears she might be molested or raped; where women are not afraid to speak out against unspeakable cases of injustice against them; where the perpetrators of this injustice are no longer protected by flimsy laws and lawmakers who are afraid to get their hands sullied.

Masculine (and sometimes feminine) violence against women can only be stopped by following a holistic approach towards it in every level of society. The government alone cannot be held responsible for the ongoing incidents of rape and molestations until the entire society understands that the onus lies on them to treat women and girls with respect and equality. It is very essential to create an environment of respect, peace and non-violence in every house from the root level to protect the pride and honor of women. Parents need to educate their male children that it is NOT okay to raise their hands against women; that they are not allowed to take advantage of women; that just because they are married to a woman does not make it okay to forcibly have sexual relations with her.

The time has come for the entire nation to have a rethink on the degrading status of women in the country. Respecting women should not be limited to a single day of International Women’s day but should be a daily phenomenon. Respecting our mothers, sisters, wives and friends is not just a matter of one day but a lifetime responsibility that should come internally.

Here’s hoping today will mark a new beginning. Here is hoping we all take a firm resolution to act sustainably in order to end violence against women, so that the incidents like ABSU rape and the Delhi gang rape are not repeated. Here’s hoping we all join hands to build a viable society where the pride and dignity of a woman are strongly upheld.

To the future: here’s a promise. Happy International Women’s Day!

Christmas on the StreetZ


“Mom, you don’t like pineapple, do you?” Chike’s little voice came from the kitchen behind us, as Uche and I were curled up on the couch, watching TV.
“What are you doing?”  Silence from my chattering five year old is never golden.  In fact, it’s a sign of trouble.  I turned and there he was;  sitting on the kitchen floor in front of the store, unloading boxes and cans of food and ingredients into a neat pile.
“We have lots of food,”  he announced, “those kids on TV didn’t have any.  We’ll just put it in a box and mail it to them.”
I knew exactly what Chike was referring to.  Only 15 minutes earlier, there had been talk on the news about children in Makoko suffering because their homes had been taken from them, many were starving alongside their parents and relatives.
***************************************************************************************
It’s that time of the year; the one where we light up the house with Christmas decorations. It’s also that time of the year where we exchange gifts or we give to those who don’t have enough.
So please join us this year as we do something different. If you have followed the news this year, at one point or the other you would have heard of the displaced settlement known as Makoko. They barely have enough infrastructures to be called a community but that is what they are.
This is why on December the 25th, we are planning on having lunch with as many residents there as possible. Mostly the children and as many adults as we can get around to. And this is where we need you all to come in. We will be accepting monetary donations no matter how little to make this happen. So please feel free to give us as much as you can afford.
Remember “Tis the Season!!We are still in the process of setting up an account but if you feel you want to be among the elite that will start our campaign with us, please feel free to contact us right away… And as much as we need monetary assistance, we will also want more people to get involved. So please get at us. We will also be needing volunteers that will come out to the community with us on that day! More information will be put out shortly!Got questions? Of course you do!Contact us:

Ada (for GTN)
Twitter: @ada_d_body
Tel: 08187145234
Email: gettalkingnaija@gmail.com

Maddy
Twitter: @madphury
(Same email and number)

Embers


sad-black-woman

I watch him dress up and pack his things. He is leaving again – of that much I’m certain of – how long he’s going to be gone for? Now that’s the tricky part.

I lie there, watching him, eyes glazed. I can still taste his lips on mine, feel his hands gently caressing my body, his tongue flicking over my nipple in that slow, seductive way I’d come to love, I can feel him moving inside of me…the aftermath of our lovemaking always leaves me dazed. My chest constricts when I think of how much I’m going to miss him and I wonder yet again why I let him keep doing this to me, to us.

At that moment he looks up and catches me staring. He smiles and I find myself hurtling down the swift express of memory lane, transported back to when we first met.

It had been at my cousin’s wedding; I was the maid of honor, him-the groomsman. When I first saw him, my heart had beat up a crescendo. He had all the physical features I looked out for in a man: tall, light-skinned, and absolutely gorgeous, with abs that would make Liam Hemsworth green with envy. I was gone and so was he. For the most part, we were lost in a world of our own; a world of brown eyes and dazzling smiles, of wordless conversations and unspoken promises.

“I don’t know about you but this wedding has been an absolute torture! I hate weddings, I think they are such a sham.” He’d said when the wedding finally came to an end. I remember gasping and protesting vehemently about how weddings were absolutely beautiful especially when the couple were young and so in love…
“Thou doth protest too much, can I have your number so we can talk about all the trimmings of a wedding over lunch tomorrow?” He’d cut in with that disarming smile, I was powerless to resist.

The next day, we had lunch, then dinner, then went back to his place and spent the entire night together. We talked about any and everything; I had that nagging feeling of déjà vu – like we’d done this before, like we’d known each other forever. He was Yinka to Yetunde. my When I woke up the next morning in his t-shirt, on his bed…I knew that was where I wanted to be forever.
(I can almost feel your dirty minds running amok – don’t worry, we hadn’t done anything…yet. ;) )

The aroma of food wafted into the room and my belly growled in response, I padded down the hallway to the kitchen to find what was cooking. There I saw him; he had laid out a full English breakfast on a tray and was about to bring it to me, in bed. I couldn’t believe it!
There I was in all my early morning glory – tousled hair, no make-up, nipples pressing against the fabric of the tee, eyes puffy and mouth probably stinking…
“You look so beautiful” he said as he saw me, then he walked over and took my mouth in his. That was easily the best kiss ever! My toes curled and I arched my back to fully accommodate the length of his body. I kissed him right back, the next thing we knew our clothes were coming right off. I don’t remember much of what happened next but I do remember the breakfast tray clattering to the floor as we put the kitchen counter to good use.

And so our whirlwind romance began.

In the space of one year, we had gone through 3 breakups, each reconciliation grander than the last. He loved me, that much I knew and each time he returned, we tried to focus more on making the most of the time we had together thank fretting over when he was going to up and disappear again. He was terrified of commitments, he told me. This may have had something to do with his mother walking out on him and his dad when he was 7. His longest relationship had lasted all of one month before he bolted. He saw no need for a relationship, much less marriage. He had lots of female friends, some had benefits – he was happy.

Then he met me.

Everything had changed for him since then he said, he wanted to wake up with me in his arms. He wanted to share every bit of his life with me: the good, the bad and the downright ugly. He wanted to spend eternity making me smile…

So do then I had told him. ‘Cos if there was one thing I wanted the most in life, it was to spend it loving him in all entirety…

Then he fled again. And returned. And the vicious cycle continues. And once again I’m lying in bed willing him not to leave, not to mortgage our love on the altar of personal prejudice. Not to leave my body and soul bereft of emotion again.

But alas, he doesn’t listen. He never does.

This Rock, This Dream, This River


For Chinny

Someplace,

Far beyond

The seas of dear remembered kisses

On the shores of dreams that might have been,

Stands colossal, this Rock

Of beauteous black and bold womanhood,

Formidably enshrined upon our earth

As giver of that thing with feathers

That miraculously perches in souls

This Rock grandeza

Time after time, age after age,

Forever.

 

This sweet and comely River

From out our eastern stream,

Is diamond of the first waters

And Illuminator of the feminist dream,

Flows eternal.

This sweet El río…

 

Child,

You’re what love has given

And where it’s magic breathes;

Where dreams feed their dreams

And whom they’ve dreamt to be:

 

A golden rose on a bronzed valley of silvered lilies,

Where summer’s warmth greets winter’s moonlight;

A kiss of jazz verbosely saxed on our lips,

Crescendo’d to ends to the soul’s delight.

This Dream is Chinny.

 

Sing! O’ muse

For this custodian to soo much loveliness

For this child,

Upon whom age smiles prettily

For this giver of that thing with feathers…

Sing!

For this Rock this Dream this River,

Time after time, age after age,

Forever.

 

Thank you dear Voke. :)

It’s My Birthday!!!


Finally!!!!

I wasn’t sure if I was going to write anything here today but I knew I needed to somehow put my thoughts down.

I’m not even going to lie, this past year has been pretty amazing for me. Great things happened in my personal life, my career and my education. I’m so grateful to God for always staying faithful to me and everyone around me.

Last year, I made some of you write me poems, which was great. This year, I’m just going to thank everyone who I’ve had the opportunity of interacting with this past year: the amazing people who have come to become friends; the friends who became strangers and everyone else who had an impact on my life this year. Thank you for leaving those footprints on the sands of my life. If I could have anything for my birthday I’d ask to have all of you in my life for another year, that a year from now I may wish the same.

God bless you all!

“Sooner or later we all discover that the important moments in life are
not the advertised ones, not the birthdays, the graduations, the
weddings, not the great goals achieved. The real milestones are less
prepossessing. They come to the door of memory unannounced,stray dogs
that amble in, sniff around a bit and simply never leave. Our lives are
measured by these.” -Susan B. Anthony

I’m still collecting gifts sha so holla if you’ve got something nice. ;)

 

Oh and Google personalised my home page. Amazeballs!!!

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