The 11th commandment of Blogging: Thou shall not give excuse for thy absences.
I hope y’all didn’t miss me too much sha 😦
Anyways, I have another Blogsville debutante, @tobismyth, who’s decided to tell us a story.
I woke up with a start.
I have to wait a few seconds to adjust to the darkness. Where am I? My head aches. Strangely, there’s a good feeling about the throbbing. I find her lips curl into a smile. You know those kind of smiles that seem to go on and on Like you just met your online crush in reality? And the smile keeps on widening, in slow mo framme byyy framee ?
Yeah. That kind of smile.
I’ve always considered myself a genius. I thought I possessed the ability to know almost everything about a person just by looking at them . Really, I thought I had that super power. Until about 4 days ago. 4 days ago, I was totally different. Not to worry, further down this story, there will be a sex scene (why did you think I had “the smile”?) but be patient, I’m coming to that. 4 days ago, I was:
Some “twitter celeb”, sorta, in my own mind and thinking.
Had been completely and totally alcohol and smoke celibate for my whole life.
Was 18 years old.
*nods head slowly*
I rubbed my throbbing temples, trying to adjust my sleeping posture and smelling g a whiff of hair spray next to me. As the memories reeled in like the opening scenes of a Nollywood movie, I made a grunt-moan sound while trying to open my eyes and adjust to the darkness. I remembered it was that smell-the hair spray-that attracted me to her. It was in church. She was an usher. We had been chased from our halls on that church morning, and I was looking a bit scruffy, scraggly and dirty. I didn’t mind, because it was just going to be for a few hours, and ill be back in the zanga . And what “happening” girl would be in school this weekend? All the happening parties were happening this weekend. Parties to which I secretly wished to go.
See, for all my internet machoism, I was a toddler inside. I was smart, no doubt, I was a voracious reader(emphasises “voracious”) , so I could hold my head high, anywhere, in any type of convo, sexual, asexual etc and be considered a pro in that topic. Still, I was yet to encounter the real world. *polishes forever alone badge*
She had asked me to sit in front. Angrily, I turned to face her, aiming to give a disgust/hate filled look that she’d most likely never forget. That Look Balotelli Gives The Referee when he isn’t awarded a freekick. Amazingly, she’d turned and I stared directly into the back of her head. Her hair. I’d always been secretly turned on by hairspray, so when I caught the whiff of her hair, the anger boiling over in me reduced to a bearable murmur. I sat down, still seething and part hoping that one “helpful” or “endowed” babe would sit beside me, knowing deep down that even if the most beautiful, most friendly babe in the whole of this school sat down beside me, I still wouldn’t work up the courage to talk her up.
I was that pathetic.
I planted a kiss on her right shoulder, running my hand down the length of her sleeve, locking my hands against the back of her hands, snuggling close to her. Without looking back, she placed a hand on my butt, massaged it gently and gave a small laugh. I was fully erect. She clasped her hand around my phallus, engorged in all its early morning glory, and I let out a sigh.
The same kind of sigh I let out when she clasped my hand immediately after service.
It was like the books. There was an almost immediate sexual tension between us. Her, of a sex-starved bitch, me of virginal, almost scared wanker. I’d used all the courage left in me, and struck up a conversation to her about the parties going on that weekend. She merely smiled when I asked her if she partied.
“If you yourself (sic), partied, I would know who you were”.
Does that mean you party a lot?
“Maybe? Maybe not. Maybe I just have a lot of friends who party”.
Mhm. We can make our own party. On Sunday.
“I don’t have a pass”.
“I said, I don’t have pass”.
The SuperStory Climax Soundtrack Rang in my head at VLC volume 400%.
I was a little confused. Did she just agree to go out with me on Sunday? Without actually saying it? I was breaking out in a sweat. I stared at her, not hearing the words of the preacher shouting at the top of his voice and she smiled back.
“So where do you want us to meet?”
Um, Um, Deluxe Hotel. Around 11?
“We will leave school together. Remember, I don’t have pass oh!”
The rest of the day passed in a blur. It seemed like my head was in the clouds. I’d collected her number and PIN right after the service, while she was arranging chairs afterwards. I made sure I didn’t change my DP, you know, just to seem cool. Cuu Keed.
Fast Forward. Hotel Room.
Still unbelieving. She was naked. The usher, in all her grand glory, cross-legged sitting on the edge of the bed. She had a confused, almost comical smile on her face.
“Won’t you remove your clothes?”
I awkwardly stripped, stopping short of my boxers. I walked to the side of the bed, and placed my lips on her lips. At first she didn’t respond. Then my heart began to race. Sweat beads began to from in my armpits. I was obviously doing it wrong. She lay back on the bad, legs still hanging off and I followed through. My hands began to quake when she responded. I caught myself moaning and groaning as I kissed her. I felt her smile underneath my lips and stopped any sounds I was making. She pulled down my boxer shorts, as my mouth left hers and clasped her legs around the outside of mine.
I don’t have a particularly extra large “bangbros size” penis, but she managed to find a way to run the whole length of me against her pussy crack. Up and down I went until I felt her become wet. I snatched and groped at her breasts, and made sure I used the tip off my tongue to harden her nipples. Just the way I had read in the sex stories.
I kissed her moving downwards until I reached her core. Gently using my lips to brush against her lips, I occasionally flicked out my tongue. The response was amazing. I used my tongue to search for her clitoris, I still am not sure if I found it, but I know I found something. Something that made her pin my head within her thighs leaving me gasping for air. I stuck at it. I could feel the change in the taste of her juices and implied to myself that she had come. Twice. With my mouth. Did I tell you I was a genius? *Fuck Yeah* I moved up, placing my still wet mouth on her taut nipples and tried to guide myself in.
I couldn’t find the….hole.
I tried the third time. And missed. And then the brain went into over drive. She couldn’t know I wasn’t a Pro. A thought struck me. If I couldn’t find the hole? She herself knew where the hole was. Instinctively, I guided her hand towards my mid-riff, and, my, she must be a genius too. She guided my dick into the warmest place it ever entered. I spasm-ed, mentally and maybe a little physically as I raised myself and literally dropped me into her… I caught her face, her eyes were slammed shut. I also caught another part of her face, it told a different story. Gently, not wanting to come too fast, I slammed into her, arching my waist, doing all the things I’d read about in the books….
She leaned over. She kissed me. My phone chimed. Lazily I picked it up.
I smiled. It was a text message.
It simply read: “Happy Birthday”.