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Must Read: Dirty Linens of a Yoruba Demon… Interesting Ashewo Story! [Part 2]

Must Read: Dirty Linens of a Yoruba Demon… Interesting Ashewo Story! [Part 1]

I left the hospital that evening, many thanks to Gbenga who took me home in his car. I still felt pains in my throat and stomach. Gbenga had warned me not to entertain so much thought on Bunmi to which I concurred.

A few sensations fired within me like a snake charmer would entertain a snake with its flute. The lustful thoughts of Jumai’ma’s body zigzagged in my mind.

The vivid picture of those curly hairs that laid like a well-trimmed garden by her white panties fired my veins, and instantly, I concluded plans to pay her a visit on Monday evening. At work, everything sped like lightning and by 6pm I was with Jumai’ma at the hospital’s car park regaling her with tales of desire. She leaned on my brown Volkswagen Golf 300 model. I love the car for its smartness and style, something I always attributed to myself.

“You have brought me into my element,” I whispered into her ears as we necked by the car. “Out of the loverboy element, you mean,” she said with a tinge of mockery in her voice. I ignored the tease and soulfully planted a peck on her cheek till I reached her neck. It was so amazing as she twisted her neck like a swan.
“Can you come with me tonight?” I asked with my hands resting on her shapely and moderate waist.

“I don’t want to be charged with manslaughter,” she said rolling her beautiful dark eyes which took me on a sharp 360 degrees turn as I stood lost in wonderment to their lustful sights.
After much minutes of talk, she finally agreed to spend the night with me on Wednesday. I had wanted to press on and make her make my bed scream but one statement from her flared all my advances. It hit me like a Mike Tyson punch.

“Femi, the truth is I like you and it isn’t that I have a heart to keep you in, no. I only have a body to house you. You just want to rush me home and… don’t let me say what you won’t like.” She looked away from me as she spoke.
I insisted she told me and when she broke free her tongue, I cowed in shame.

“You want to use me as a painkiller against the emotional wreck you were last week”.
It came in that exclamatory delivery and I stood before her, a rag of shame.

“I don’t want to remember that and I am so sorry if I have been so disrespectful…” I couldn’t find the words any longer so I kept quiet. The next few seconds astounded me when I heard her laughing.

“But you said you are in your element. I expected you to just go ahead and play with my body. I have given you my body, play with it; it’s all yours Femi.”

Little had she said that when she removed my hands from her waist and placed them on her mountainous breasts. I fondled them softly as our eyes met in that wanton moment and our lips agreed to become four. I felt like an insect sucking nectar from a flower. Jumai’ma tasted fresh and sweet like the unadulterated waters from a spring.

We didn’t release the hold until I had dipped my right forefinger in between those mountains of flesh on her chest. An evening well spent, I told her as she made to leave. “But why won’t you come with me?” I asked again dragging her hands to feel my hardened passion sword. She sent me to the moon as she rubbed it tenderly which almost made me give a delightful yell as she stroked my scrotal sack leaving me moaning softly.

“By Wednesday, you’ll be fit. Come and pick me at the eatery two streets away. I’ll be waiting there by 6pm”.

“Let me have your number, Wednesday will be too long without a word from you”, she punched the keypads on my handset to dial her number. Her phone rang and she handed mine back to me.

“I have your number now, save the last dialed number on your phone; it’s mine”, she turned to go, leaving me with a smile that would make me remember her with impassioned lust forever. I got into the car and as the engine revved, it seemed to shatter every memory of Bunmi and all the lovey-dovey feeling that buried the Casanova in me. I smiled to myself. God bless Jumai’ma. God bless the creaking bed. I am finally in my element.

By: [email protected]

Must Read: Dirty Linens of a Yoruba Demon… Interesting Ashewo Story! [Part 3]

Written by GQ!

Once Upon A Time... I Am An INTROVERT And Dishing Out The BEST OF GOSSIP Is My HOBBY! Enjoy My Thrilling HEADLINES!

Twitter: @GQArtsassin //  Email: [email protected]  //  Phone Number: +2348053834017

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