EPISODE 1:

                                   IT’S JUST ICE-CREAM. NOTHING ELSE.

                               For a while, the only sounds you could hear in our room was the creaking of his bed, the insistent slapping of his humongous, smooth balls on my chin and the unmistakable sound of a throat impaled on a huge cock, as he fucked my mouth with abandon. His muscular body was covered in a light sheen of sweat now and his face was frowned with concentration as he focused solely on the task at hand of emptying his balls down my throat. The view from above that I had was simply glorious and almost made me forget this was Lagos, our Lagos. The next 10 minutes could be the end of us if things went south.

 

Our eyes met and he gave me that boyish smile that shattered all my defenses from the very beginning. “I can see you are loving every bit of this”, he said.

 

I groped his muscular thighs in response, as I now bobbed my head vigorously on his towering pillar of cockmeat. His thick, 10 inch cock was dripping with my saliva, so wet my throat was practically sliding over it like a sock as it stretched my mouth in a way that did not bother me anymore.

“Slut”, he said before giving a short dry laugh.

 

I fucking loved getting called a slut too, because that’s what I am. I never thought I’d satisfy the fantasy of not only getting used by a big dicked, perfect guy like him, but of just being degraded and shown my place as well, to hear the stud above me spewing all the names I craved to hear: slut, whore, cumdump, cockslut, pussyboy, cocksucker, buttslut. All the things I am and that I love to do. With the way he was so sweet and innocent at face, I never thought I’d hear this from him.

 

 

He grabbed me more forcefully by my head and started pounding my mouth even harder than before. I could not even see him properly now, vision blurred by the way my head was shaking up and down from the brute force of his cock hammering inside my hot mouth.

 

About 20 minutes later he roared, and soon enough, cock was not the only thing stuffing my mouth. Gallons and gallons of the most tasty and delicious man seed I have ever had in my entire life spewed down my throat, but it was so much I couldn’t swallow fast enough. Some slipped from my lips down my chin, glazing the outside of my mouth with it, and a lot of it dropped on his still hard dick and crotch, making him even wetter and slimy than he already was.

 

I finished swallowing all of it and then just took a few moments to breathe, as I stared at the happy, satisfied young man that was stretching his arms above his head on the bed like a big cat. My heart filled with love and lust for this big, dumb, hot fellow as he smiled stupidly at me.

 

“Get up from there and come clean me up properly”, he ordered. I immediately obeyed.

 

                                                           ***

 

2:16 am and we are on our 7th round of sex. I am almost dying from exhaustion but I have allowed him to fold me double and plow me to a trembling and dripping heap of flesh, begging for more. The drugs hit differently too these days. I think he has stopped buying what he used to buy, whatever it was. With this, I feel every stroke, every touch, every groan of pleasure from him, every whisper of his need, times 100 and at the center of my consciousness, making me want to please and satisfy him at any cost.

 

Aside from the drugs, I love everything about Tornado. His thug lifestyle. His smoking habits and use of hard drugs. His beautiful dark skin with a thousand and one scars. His voice and scanty facial hair. His deceptively calm mannerism. His exceptional leadership qualities and everything in general. I’m still wondering how he is able to hide it from his boys that we are fucking. Maybe it is already an open secret.

 

 

 

But there is a problem and it isn’t a small one.

 

 

He isn’t seeing me how I see him…no, scratch that. He is not seeing me how I want him to. It’s absolutely frustrating to seem so inconspicuous to the person you want most. As a child, I watched my mom suffer from unrequited love before she died with a broken heart. Even with all her wealth, my mom had allowed love to weaken her.  I swore to myself that I would never be weak like her. I would be strong so nobody would treat me like a piece of trash. My dad was mean to her. He only came home when he wanted sex or someone to blame for his problems and vent his anger on. He promptly left early the next morning to his other woman and kids.

 

 

 

Am I steadily walking into the path that I watched my mother take? Am I willing to allow things to go in the way they have chosen to go? Is this love or it’s an infatuation like it was with Jacob, Victor, Reuben and the others before them? I know he is not into me but why does he always want me around him?

 

 

Lying here and watching him labor over me, albeit pleasurable, I felt my mood change. I had lost everything I had gathered in a frenzy. I start to feel cheap and used.

 

“Please stop, I am tired”, I muttered.

I saw anger flare in his dangerous eyes. He hissed and disregarded my request.

“Guy, come down. E nor dey hungry me again”, I reiterated in pidgin.

 

 

 

“E be like na house con dey hungry you. Con dey go”. And with that, he withdrew his whole length from my insides.

 

“No naa. Time is 2:48. I nor go fit go o. I wan sleep here”, I pleaded.

 

 

And with that came a heavy back hand slap, with his left hand, like thunder across my face.

 

 

 

He gave me the death stare. “Nor worry, Scorpion and Pepper go drop you for bridge. You fit find your way from there”.

 

At this point, I knew it was final. Further pleas and persistence might just be brutal to me and it might as well be the last time I had access to him, except with money.

 

 

“Get yourself together, girl. Don’t panic. It’s just ice-cream, nothing else”, I said to myself.

 

 

 

I am wondering why I said that.

 

Maybe that’s all it’s ever going to be between us, Sex, drugs and ice-cream. Lots and lots of ice-cream with nights of partying hard, car trips and shopping sprees. That’s all it would be and, like ice-cream, all would melt away soon enough. He might never see me the way I want him to.

 

 

 

      Written By:

        FitGiant

 

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