As I sat with Nkechi on the sofa in my room, my hand was left confused between her laps while she discussed about her day. At that moment, it was like I borrowed that infected ear of my President as she talked. I wasn't listening.
She understood the body language and in no time we started kissing. The 'lion' between my legs was almost tearing its den apart.
She reached for the hair on my chest and
transversed the vicinity of my nipples with her cold hands. Immediately I began to feel the current pass from my head to my toes. I reached for her tender breasts. Nkechi's nipple$ were already strong enough to pierce my skin.
I supported them with my mouth and tickled the tips with my tongue. Initially I nurse fears about my health as I just completed my malaria drugs 24hrs before the showdown. I was afraid of any strenuous activity that could serve as a catalyst to a relapse. Again, the tension was irresistible, I just wanted to live for the moment. It was worth the risk.
She was on fire, she moaned aloud and I took off my shirt to allow her again access to my body. Shockingly, Nkechi wasn't complaining this time around, she jumped on my laps and was grinding her soft backside against my lion as I kissed everywhere. I look at her demonic eyes and I knew it was time for 'baptism'. To avoid
aftermaths of s*x that hurt, I grabbed my
raincoat on Nkechi's demand and loaded the missile like those Niger Delta militants threatened the government. I was already eyeing the bed when Nkechi took off her shorts and jumped on me as I sat on the sofa.
That sitting style is something I have watched in American movies but never really understood its efficacy as most Nigerian ladies couldn't play it well. Nkechi's waist
instantly became more flexible than Shakira's own as she jerked and touched me
simultaneously. I supported her with some
movements as I couldn't do much due to the tight position.
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