A LONG STORY

Many a times we use the words “it’s a long story” to cut people off from explaining into details the essence of what they are asking.  The explanations might not be mentally pleasant to us thus we shorten the whole history into these four words. 

It’s been a year we were friends and we had a mutual friend we both share. I knew him first and from the first day I never hid the fact that I like everything about him. Umar was a perfect gentleman with all values a woman will be looking for. This was the first time religion wasn’t a consideration in my emotions. I loved him beyond tribe and religion. A tall and handsome dude who speaks three Nigerian languages fluently will beat one into cadence. 

It was a Friday afternoon; he was coming out of a mosque not so far from my house. I drove and nearly hit him as he was lost on his walk. I shouted at him before I saw the face. When I saw his face I came down and asked if he needs a ride. He hopped into the back seat and there my friend took charge. 

Freda is my name I told him and my stupid friend told him she is Awa. Because I was driving, I had less time to chat and in less than three minutes we got to the place he parked his car. He hopped off the car with multiple thank you and he exchanged numbers with Awa. They started communicating and then my jealousy started. 

From that day men became very irritating to me. The only picture that came to my head was that of Umar and every day was another adventure for Umar and Awa. My hatred for Awa grew bigger by the day and jokingly I told her I was supposed to be the one having all that she was been showered with, and she laughed with a statement thus …. Umar deserves someone better than you Freda that’s why I’m pampering him.  Those words keep ringing in my head from that day. I swore if I can’t have him both of us will not but there relationship was growing stronger. The whole town started getting to know them and there I got pissed the more until that faithful day when umar came home looking for Awa, she wasn’t around. Her phone was also off. He waited a while in the sitting room as he couldn’t run back into his car due to the heavy downpour. I tried to maneuver him in all ways I could but he wouldn’t even look my way. The skirt I wore was the shortest in the world reflecting my thighs and my white panties. I made sure my cleavage was obvious and I removed my bra to expose the more. I was ready for him to come straight inside of me without any caution. But it seems the more I did the less he saw. 

At this moment I tried my last style which was the phone call saga. The call came in from a friend and I started saying the opposite to catch his attention. “It was a callous thing for a guy to treat me that way after spending over four million for him”. This particular call caught his attention and when I ended the call I started crying. He moved closer asking what the problem was. I held unto him closely and let his hand feel my soft butt with real tears dropping from my eyes. He couldn’t resist the softness of my boobs and suddenly I could feel his manhood getting larger and stronger. I dipped my hands inside his trousers and like a hungry lion I started joggling it in my mouth.

The events that followed suit …. is a long story. 

When I was done getting rid of all his clothes and mine I made the couch the center of experiment. We stumbled on ourselves like wild animals on heat period. He tried to caution with talks which I ended up rejecting with kisses. It was in the middle of the moaning that the front door opened and the sight of Awa covered the room. I continued like I was lost in the fun shoving my breast through for no word to come out of his mouth. Awa was mad and she said…….. Freda I’ll never forgive you. She slammed the door and that was the last of her I saw for the next two weeks. 

Umar was concerned about Awa really and I ask why. A guy with a G class Mercedes, as tall as 6’2, with a muscular built and lovely beard, is dying for one girl who has small breast; small fine face and only the ass can pass more than mine. I know one thing; he will come back begging for more. 

I first saw it on instagram; I thought it was a Photoshop. Then I saw it on facebook with comments below

Then I called my grandmother in the ancient city of Benin; the remaining was a long story.