By: Z

1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (2 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)


I feel my phone vibrate, a new message from Chuks69,


4 extra i’s, he is saying something eh, I should check his profile out. “Wow, this guy is really cute,” I say to myself, if he wants to flirt, game on. I type my reply— Heyyyy.


He replies, explaining that he read my article on bad governance and decided to chat me up, we can be friends he says, we think alike. Spare me all that bullshit, why are men never straight. Like seriously, we in the 21st century, just say your mind, state your mission, no need to be sneaky, stay woke af. Well, if he is being coy, I could help him speed this up.


“Does the 69 in your name mean what I think it is?” I type.


He lies, tells me they are his favourite numbers but he likes the way I think.


“So you don’t mind munching my punani?” I send next.


Just like that, we start a very steamy sexting session. When we climax—textically speaking, Chuks goes quiet. Like Hello! Duuuudeeee, this is the time you ask me over for Netflix and Chill. I want to drop my phone, but I am NOT a traditional woman; that lets a guy dictate the pace of the conversation. He is cute, I like him, he sexts good and I will invite myself over (only cos I can’t invite him here cos my stupid mom never goes out). We are breaking societal norms.



“So….You talk real good you know, how about you give me your address so you can walk the walk.”


After 5 minutes, he replies. He doesn’t stay that far off. I want to go to my bathroom and trim my bush but I think better of it. I don’t think we would get down today and even if we do, is he supposed to mind a little bush cos I mean, who cares right? I get dressed, tell my mom I am going to church (gosh she would believe anything), and head out.


Within the hour I get to his place, he stays alone, his apartment is nice, he is doing okay for a boy his age. He is preparing a meal for us and has a bottle of wine lain out. Why are boys so naive? Enough with the gentleman’s treatment; did I tell him I don’t have food or wine in my house? I really just want to be choked or at least enjoy the tingles. It doesn’t help that I am ovulating. I am a 23-year-old woman in her prime, I have needs.


After eating, I ask to use the bathroom, I am really trying to control myself but Chuks is so hoooot. I let out a scream in the bathroom, he should come running to see what the problem is, then he would meet me naked and game on. Dude doesn’t come running though, he stays well clear of the bathroom door and asks if everything is okay in there. I tell him I saw a roach and he says he would get an insecticide; I could hear the embarrassment in his voice. He keeps the Mortein by the door and vanishes before I open it, this one is blind to green light. I should stop flashing, I should just get him.


I come out of the bathroom and resume my spot on the couch, we continue with our movie watching, we are seeing The Matrix (he couldn’t even select a “hot” film). As soon as Neo’s lips touch Trinity’s, I take my shot


“Are your pink lips any good at kissing?” I say in that voice I know drives men insane; low, deep, and smoky.


We lock eyes, and I see what I need to see-hunger. We lock lips and our hands get to work. In minutes, I am throwing my Nights of Glory tag behind me and bending to swallow his one-eyed monster. We have wild sex filled with amusing moments, like when he asks that I take off my tag, something about seeing Papa’s face making him uncomfortable. Like seriously, why let the image of a man of God or even God himself make you uncomfortable for enjoying and exploring your God-given body. I really don’t get religious people.


I head to my father’s house utterly satisfied, another real-life-dildo used. It is so empowering for women to do as we please with our bodies, without fear of judgement. I promise myself I wouldn’t cry later tonight though like I do all the other times I go out to have meaningless sex with dudes I barely know.



I really do love this ENDSARs article; I should look up the writer.


I meant to type Hi but my keypad malfunctions and delivers Hiiiii. I explain that I love her article and her writing style. She did make a lot of sense, I could relate to most things she said and I think it would be fun exchanging ideas with her, being friends. She asks a question about my username and I smile, this girl is a whole vibe, she is smart and naughty, or is it spoiled. I answer her in a deflective manner, no need to go all dark now.


“Well, the real reason I hit you up is- I need a content creator for my blog; I can’t pay much but…..” Before I can hit the forward button, her own message flashes




I do a double-take and go back to look through her profile. Bella has a fusion of the feminist symbol and the rainbow, her username shows she identifies as a lesbian. I can’t quite make out what “nastits” mean. I go through some of the pages and people she follows and some accounts with interesting bios catch my eye.


Young, hornnny wild lesbian

I get wet watching girls play with themselves and each other

Women against Patriarchy


It is going to be one of those chats eh. I clear what I was going to type, “No I definitely don’t mind munching clean punani, especially one in her twenties.” I type instead


“Oh, you are in luck, peer reviews have certified this punani clean and it is still in its early twenties, I am 23.”


I am grateful she volunteers her age, I wouldn’t want to tow this line with a minor and then trend on Twitter later for statutory-rape-via-sexting or whatever the keypad warriors would term it. The chat degenerates quickly into real nasty texting with a lot of freaky fantasies shared both ways.


When we are done, I am really lost on what to say next and decide to end today’s chat here. I will hit her up another day, Bella is so much fun. I head to the kitchen to make Macaroni I had planned for lunch and my phone vibrates




The wind is knocked from my chest. Catfish? Why would a catfish want my address though? I try to make sense of this and the best I can come up with is “She is a witch.” God save me from Karashika. I am not as strong in resisting the devil though, so I send her my address, lying to myself that we would just have lunch and talk, no freaky business even though we have painted quite the picture at sexting.


She arrives and I observe with a predatory instinct that she wore a loose gown, not jeans. I whisper to my guardian angel that even with the loose gown, I still wouldn’t do anything. It is tough coming to terms with this new world where pussy arrives on a silver platter.


I struggle to keep Lil Billy in check as we have lunch. The sultry way she plays with her fork and the way she looks at me, I know what she wants. She asks to use the bathroom and my head screams “THIS IS IT”, she is going to put the finishing touches, whatever it is girls do before they are ready. I am still convinced I would not go further than innocent kissing and touching, maybe orals but full-blown sex, not on my guardian angel’s watch.


Last time out, I was in love with a Woke girl, she wanted to smash while I wanted to love, and taking her to bed without the romance was not my idea of love. She screamed bloody murder, berated my traditionalness, and mocked me for being a gentleman. She claimed times had changed and girls had the right to use us as we use them. I let Olivia go and I was tagged “probably gay.” With Bella, at least the orals would show my wokeness, I hope the all-inclusive nasty sexting helped as well.


A roach in my bathroom, really? Why today? I live through the moment and we resume our movie then Neo kisses Trinity and we end up in bed. Mind-blowing sex is had, she is a real pro. After she leaves, I remain in fantasia, dreaming of Bella hooking me up for a threesome with one of her lesbian partners. The sun goes down eventually and I feel used again


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