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Nasri was typing speedily on his computer on a Friday morning at the office when a Facebook chat window popped up. He briskly looked at the message and it was Amaka saying hello.
This wasn’t her first time of chatting up Nasri unnecessarily. In fact, she starts up a chat without anything reasonable to say but Nasri played along each time to fulfill all righteousness. Amaka who lived all her life in Port Harcourt, Rivers State was one of the ladies on Nasri’s radar during his days in Festac Town, Amuwo Odofin Local Government Area.
The curvy lady with a chocolate skin seems to be in her early thirties. Nasri met her through a neighbour in the year 2016. Amaka is like an open book, she simply has nothing to hide. She says it as it is. She spends most of her time talking raw. She would gist openly about hanging out and sleeping with moneybags for cash. Virtually all the guys that came across her in Festac Town wanted a bite of her cake even though most didn’t admit their interest openly. You might be pardoned if you don’t like Amaka’s face and character but you will be the biggest liar if you claim not to give a damn about her hips and bum. They were as round as the drum beaten at the village square during the New Yam festivals in the Igbo Nation. Her bump shorts which she wore in the evenings after most outings drove the neighbours gaga. Some bold ones jokingly told Amaka they were interested in her and the blunt lady would also reveal she is for sale at a cut-throat price.
One evening, Nasri was sitting alone with Amaka on a sofa at the corridor when a heavy downpour started. It was so windy and coldness enveloped the atmosphere. Amaka who was close to Nasri on the sofa kept narrating her romance with a man working in an oil company. She narrated their s*x positions and her weak spots exploited by the man. As Nasri heard the gist, his manhood constantly nodded in agreement like an Agama lizard. Nasri was lost in thoughts as his eyes travelled around her Spaghetti top which was without bra and her usual bump short which scantily covered her backside not to talk of the luscious hips. Nasri started running temperature; his utterances became slurred as the cold aggravated.
He knew what he needed at that moment wasn’t a cup of hot tea or a big jacket to mitigate the effects of the cold. Amaka was the drug he needed to be fine. He whispered into her ears that he wanted a taste of what the oil company worker had been eating diligently behind his wife’s back. Amaka laughed aloud like a Nollywood witch that was close to sucking human blood. She told him boldly that his money was the key to her legs. She demanded for N25,000 on the spot for just a round. Nasri sensed he was about to be ripped off. They haggled over the price as it the commodity was pepper and tomatoes at the Oyingbo market, Ebute Metta.
As the cold worsened, Nasri almost accepted to pay N15,000 for a quickie when he came to his senses. In Lagos, you can sleep with a lady in the class of a model with at least N10,000 if you know your way around the Red Light Districts. He declined to pay as he stood up. Amaka didn’t seem disappointed, instead she laughed around the house, and turning around intermittently to tease Nasri with her natural endowments.
“Bring the cash and eat the sweetest meat of your life” she reiterated as the horny Nasri looked like a patient waiting for an anti-malaria injection. Since that day, both parties never talked about having s*x till Amaka returned to Port Harcourt. Nasri kept in touch with her on Facebook. Their once-in-a-blue-moon chat had no substance. Amaka would brag about coming to his house to bang him to stupor while Nasri would boast that he never runs from war like the Damul Army of the Korean dynasty.
“I heard from a reliable source that your manhood is very long. One of these days, I will come grab my share. I hope you have the requisite energy to contain me?” she always said but Nasri never saw her brake light.
Nasri on the other hand gave up on sleeping with her but he enjoyed the harmless erotic chats which hardly lasted for approximately 40 minutes at most.
This was what transpired between the duo prior to the latest chat. Nasri replied non-challantly until asked for his house address.
“I’m at your street, send me your address so that we can meet” she said. Nasri was stunned to hear this.
“Are you serious? Tell me you are joking again” he reponded in surprise.
Amaka even mentioned the part of his street she was. She explained she came to visit a friend and wanted to see Nasri before she left. The chat became erotic as usual as Amaka boasted about devouring him on bed. Nasri who was getting aroused stopped work and called her phone to hear directly from her.
They both agreed on a set time which was after Nasri’s closing time at the work. Nasri felt like fast forwarding time as he lost concentration at work. Its been two years of salivating about Amaka whom he always regarded as a lost opportunity. As Nasri closed from work around 6:30pm that fateful Friday evening, he kept in touch with Amaka on phone. His appetite for food disappeared. He just wanted to eat a human being like the late Clifford Orji. He didn’t see Amaka until around 10pm on that day. He was glad to receive her at the junction of his house. She rushed into his arms on seeing him. She wore a body hugging black top, trousers and sneakers. Amaka’s mouth smelt of alcohol. She was drunk.
She admitted she had been drinking with a friend that returned from abroad. They made it to Nasri’s flat which wasn’t too far away. Amaka brought out one big fish well garnished with vegetables which she was already eating at the bar and asked Nasri to join her. Nasri didn’t want the fish, he wanted Amaka instead. Her shape was still intact. Her breasts were moderate in size. Things took a dramatic turn when Amaka told Nasri she wasn’t interested in having s*x with him and that she only told him those sweet words for fun. Nasri was perplexed but he smartly hid his shock. As Amaka stood up to pick something from her bag, he simply grabbed her from behind and felt her succulent bum with his hands. Amaka didn’t show resistance, she only smiled and called him a baby boy. The bum was softer than Olajumoke Orisaguna’s fresh Agege bread. Amaka who was still shy about exposing her body before Nasri went into the bathroom to change into a night wear.
Her outfit made things worse for Nasri. On bed, his hands travelled from her bum, to her tummy and her boobs with a little resistance from her. He couldn’t believe his eyes. In no time, he started dragging her panties with her like he kept something in there. Amaka refused to allow him despite she worsening his condition by playing with his manhood which was more erect than an electric pole. Nasri was frustrated and had no choice than to sleep with his recalcitrant erection. He was very bitter but Amaka was adamant. She just wanted to sleep that night without s*x. Nasri reluctantly dozed off looking at Amaka’s hot waist.
When all hope was lost, Nasri felt a strange hand grabbing him around 4am in the morning, it was Amaka. She held unto him like she needed warmth. He complied by also taking off her top and feeling her boobs on his chest. Amaka tickled his nipples and fiddled with his manhood. She placed it in between her laps and grinded it for sensation. Nasri was mad; he begged to enter her honey-pot while his fingers expressly explored the pleasure zone. Amaka stopped abruptly and demanded for money. According to her, that’s the only thing that turns her on. Nasri begged with his life. He searched around his house and was able to raise about N5,000 which he handed to Amaka at the speed of light. He reached for his box of condoms and wore one of them.
Just like magic, Amaka pulled her blue panties and led his manhood into her. It was crazy! Nasri rammed into her like a vehicle with a failed brake. It was like winning the World Cup. His mind reflected on how elusive Amaka had been since they met in Festac Town two years ago, he remembered the night he begged her in futility for s*x as he made his deep thrusts. Amaka’s body jerked seriously at some point as if he had punctured her womb.
The discomfort inspired Nasri to go harder until he exploded. As he climaxed, his eyes became clear, he headed to the bathroom to clean up. Amaka later joined him. She looked into his eyes and said, “So you have finally slept with me too after doing my friend?”
Nasri smiled as he made it into the room. He realized he hadn’t had so much sleep through the night. Amaka at some point wanted more but Nasri wasn’t cut out for that. She dressed up to leave and promised to be back again for the mother of all battles in the other room. According to her, this time around there will be no resistance. There will be no mercy!
As early as 7am on Saturday morning, Amaka swung her massive hips which were synonymous to the Abuja yams towards the exit door as she said good bye. Her bum from behind looked padded like the 2016 national budget of Nigeria.
As she disappeared, a part of Nasri was filled with regrets as he reflected on spending the little cash on him on s*x. The randy part of him anticipated the return of Amaka as she promised to end what she started.
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