Hey y’all. Y’all staying alive? Breathing easy? Doing Good #NoMegan. Fine.
As part of our desire to constantly churn out material that helps soothe you guys, we have decided to add another feather to the TSC cap. Well, it goes without saying that we’re the best when it comes to humor in Nigeria, Let’s not brag about our 3 recognition awards but yeah. No one comes close.
What we want to do at TSC is to build a community of writers who have their head screwed deep in humor, Guys who can deliver funny stuff without even trying, people who bring tears of joy to your eyes when you read their shit. Yup. That’s the goal. Little wonder Terdoh and TheGreyGenesis are part of this team. Them niggas hold things down all day everyday.
Alright, in keeping with this tradition, Guys allow me to introduce our newest team member. He’s no stranger to humor neither is he foreign in these parts, Matter of fact, he has over time sent in content that rates as high as the stuff that comes from here, So yeah, “signing him up” was a no brainer. Let us give a massive TSC welcome to the brilliant ‘RJ’ known on twitter as @Monsieur_RJ; our newbie.
Some sexual fantasies are better left in your head.
I learnt this the hard way. No porn intended.
No pun intended either.
Sometime about a fortnight ago, I went to a supermarket in Wuse 2 to get an After Shave. My favorite team had just lost (again) to Olympiakos in the Champions League and I was a little bit disoriented.
The loss had really hurt me and anyone who observed me that night could tell I was in emotional pains. I had a particular brand of After Shave I always used ‘cos I loved the scent and my search for it earlier in the day had not been successful.
I got into this supermarket (name withheld) and asked around for it but they didn’t have it either, so I picked a pack of Smarties and a can of suede spray for my shoes then made my way to pay. “N520, sir” said the female counter as she packed both items in a leather bag. I searched my wallet and discovered I didn’t come out with enough money.
Or maybe, just maybe, I had spent it all at the bar where I had watched the United game in agony.
“I don’t think I have enough cash on me. Do you accept ATMs?”
She nodded & I gave her my card. She did her lil thing, asked if I was using Current or Savings, blah blah & then finally asked me to insert my pin. As I punched it in, saying the numbers audibly as I did, she looked at me and said “You look sad. Very sad… And you’re handsome”. For the first time I “examined” her. Funny I didn’t do that all this while ‘cos I had my mind on the just concluded game. She was beautiful, chocolate but NOT my type and I’ll tell you why.
She might have been a counter or to like most would say, a salesgirl, but she wasn’t bad at all. She was pretty, had knockers that could feed all 378 of Angelina Jolie’s adopted kids and had thunder thighs. It had been one of my sexual fantasies to have sex with a tall chic just for the hell of it & this opportunity presented itself. She might not have had a classy job but in the words of the hommie Pa Alfred, “Kpekus na Kpekus”. That wasn’t the problem, though.
The babe was tall for a babe. Extremely tall. I’m talmbout 6’3 or some shit like that.
“Thanks. Had a rough day. Why are you guys still open? It’s almost 11.” I asked.
“We close by 11 exactly. Almost done for today. Here’s your stuff. Have a good rest and visit us again.” she said handing me the bag.
That should have been my cue to leave. El-Farooq should have left. That bastard!
“Umm, so, do I have to come here again if I want to see you or could I just get your number and give you a call?” Not smooth by me but I figured, what the fuck, my night couldn’t get worse.
She smiled and politely said “I just think you’re cute and thought it would be nice to say it. Nothing more. Please, don’t get any ideas.”
Again, another cue to leave but I had to be so fucking stupid. “Dooshima,” I said, staring at her name-tag “I think you’re cute too and no, I’m not having any other ideas. I just like to be close friends with people who know my ATM pin. It’s only right, right? I’m El-Farooq, by the way” She smiled for a bit, gave me an ‘I hope you know what you’re signing up for’ look and called out her number in a soft voice. A couple of phone calls, lots of flirting & a few days later I was driving to her crib to go see her.
First, I couldn’t invite her over to my place ‘cos I didn’t want my hommies laughing at me for attempting to smash someone that could carry me. I got to her crib and was a bit surprised. It was nice. She was obviously living above her means. Or maybe one 6’5 aristo had been hitting that. I don’t know. We got talking and, of course, I had to find out where she got that much money to get a nice apartment in Abuja being a salesgirl & all.
Turns out she was a student and her mum actually owned the Supermarket. She decided to take up a part-time job during the strike to help her mum & keep an eye on the other staff that had no clue she was their boss’ daughter. She helped out anytime she was back from school. I liked that in a girl; ambitious, pretty and didn’t sit on her ass all day waiting for a nigga to take care of her. Or maybe that was ‘cos she was 6’3 and dudes always ran away from her… like I should have done that night.
We talked some more and things got very deep. She told me about how her dad had left them when she was little (‘little’ kor) and how her mum had struggled alone, raising 4 kids, all girls. She said all her life she had longed for a father-figure and how she adored her mum. I held her hands and told her everything was going to be alright & how her mum had done an amazing job raising her. She placed her head on my chest & I could feel myself giggle a bit.
That must have been a weird ass sight.
Anyway, things heated up as I made some moves on her. She resisted at first but ain’t nobody ever really resisted El-Farooq when they were alone. That shit ain’t never happened. Neeever. I made my trademark move; popping the bra with my right hand, watching the titties bounce out and going straight for the left one. Hers were really beautiful. Like she had other ridiculously big body parts ‘cos she was fucking 6’3 but her titties were beautiful & moderate. I was this close to clapping for her. By far the best titties I had ever laid eyes & mouth on. She moaned and whispered “nibble on it” in my ears & the nigga El-Farooq did.
After a few minutes of fooling around she asked me if I wanted an energy drink and had eaten well before coming. Not to look like an idiot I said yes then walked over to her fridge to get a can of whatever energy drink she had. I must have shrieked when I opened it. I was terrified. Her fridge was stocked with about 20-30 cans of Red Bull. Like, what was this chic up to?! Again, a reason to back out but you know guys and their egos; we don’t ever want to bitch out.
We went to her room & continued our foreplay in there. After a while she stopped me and looked a bit withdrawn. I asked her what the matter was but she didn’t want to say. After a while she opened up. No, not her legs, silly, we’re gonna get there. She told me about how she loved tying guys up while having sex, on some S&M shit. I figured, well that’s not a problem since I liked a lil bit of kinky stuff, I had been tied up once and I loved it. Ah, Uju! God bless her sweet self. Best weekend I ever had in Enugu. Back to Dooshima & I.
I agreed to her tying me up & she did. She tied me up well. Very well. The knots were tight. Very tight. She didn’t have cuffs so she used a tie.
Now that I think about it, whose ties were those? She asked me for a safe word. I didn’t like the idea of a safe word. “Safe words are for sissys” I said but she insisted.
“Yes, Ride. If I say Ride then you either stop or Ride on” I said jokingly.
She laughed and left the room. I blame my hommie Ikhizama for that stupid thought. I had been jamming some old Nelly albums that he hooked me up with and had been driving to “Ride With Me” on my way to her crib so that was the first word that came to my head. She returned with a jar of Nutella and opened it. She scooped some with her hand and gently rubbed it over my already erect cock then she began blowing me, passionately licking the damn Nutella off. I was wilding. Dooshima’s head game was on some Play Station 6 shit, some futuristic shit that y’all ain’t ready for. Y’all niggas ain’t even know the half of it. She could suck nails off a wall, that Benue gigantic freak. She blew & blew and then T-Bagged a nigga.
A little tear might have rolled down my left cheek. Best head ever.
“Is that a birthmark on your balls?” she said laughing out
“They don’t call me Mr. Birthmark on the Nutsack for nothing” I replied with a proud smirk on my face.
When she was done licking the Nutella off the Colonel she rolled a condom on it and began riding. I wasn’t really enjoying it, though. I mean, yeah a bit of me was cool with it but her weight, damn, her weight. It gradually went from sex to molestation. I was being used. She just tied me, a nigga shorter than her, up there and did whatever she wanted. I felt abused. I couldn’t take it anymore and my waist was about to give in ‘cos of her damn near 120kg weight. She sensed it and got off my dick and began kissing my chest and sucking my own nipples.
Next thing she got up and, without warning, sat on my face. Fam, I couldn’t breathe. Not like she smelled or none of that, no. In fact, she did smell & taste nice but them thunder thighs tho, way too massive and covered up my whole face. But as a gentleman, I ate her up despite all that. Then she got a bit carried away and started grinding a little. I continued eating her, all this while struggling for proper breath. Then she lost it. Dooshima totally lost it. Home girl started riding my dam face. I was approaching the white light.
“Ride! Ride! Ride!” and she rode even more vigorously.
“No, Ride! RIDE! RIIIDEEE!!” and she continued.
Apparently, that was a shitty choice of a safe word. “Who’s your mummy?” she asked as she rode me on some ‘I own you’ type shit. “What the… My mummy is Mrs. Grace Nwosu and I want my mummy. I’m asthmatic, please. Call her” I screamed out from underneath her but my sorrowful plea was absorbed by her massive thighs.
“Who’s your mummy? Tell me, who’s YOUR MUMMY?” “Mrs. Nwosu! Mrs. Nwosu! Call her! Call her! Her number is 0802574—-“ but Dooshima was already in her zone. “Ride! Ride!” were my feebly yelled last words as my body shook and she, finally coming to her senses, got up.
I woke up fully clothed with a can of Red Bull beside me.
“Drink that. It’ll help you” came a slightly embarrassed voice from across the room.
“What happened? How did my clothes get back on?” I asked, looking around. “Well, you passed out. I cleaned you up and put your clothes on. I couldn’t leave you naked. I’m really sorry. We shouldn’t have done this.” “No, there’s no problem. I umm.. I wasn’t…never mind. I umm, I need to get home.” I said standing up quickly and grabbing my shoes.
“Call me, when you get home. Or you could come over this weekend. I’ll be back from school then” she said as I hurried off.
As I drove off, I did what every sane person who had been molested would do; I blocked her number & deleted her pin. At the moment I’m thinking of skipping town, maybe even moving out of town completely. Horrific, yes, but that’s one more sexual fantasy off my list, a couple more to go.