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I started to believe that pretty girls are not super at all. When I was living somewhere in Namasuba, a pretty girl came near me and I noticed this. This was the most coveted babe in the whole village. She had the kind of figure that makes people drool.
She would move her hips vigorously. In fact, all the energetic men on the block approached her and she kicked them all. I decided to use the distance between us to win her heart. At first I played the role of the proud man next door. I only said hello to her, but I always avoided prolonging our conversation.
Slowly our conversations began to lighten and turn personal. She kept asking me why it took me so long to get married, and I assured her that I had never found the woman of my dreams. One morning she came to my house wrapped in only a towel and asked if she could use my outlet to iron her clothes.
The only outlet in my house was in the bedroom, so I asked her to go to the bedroom to do the ironing. After she went in, I came out because my pants were bulging and I was afraid I would force her to have sex. She was busy in the bedroom while I sat in the living room and we continued to chat.
Then she called me to say she had finished ironing her clothes but didn’t know where to put the iron. When I came in, she had already lifted the towel and started to apply my lotion to her body. Her body was thick and plump, and when she bent over to apply my thighs, her jiggling hips almost broke my big ass.
She stood in concentration, her slender twin towers visible from her back. I stood in the bedroom doorway with my mouth open; after about three minutes, the only word I could utter was “sexy” because that’s what all the neighbors called her.
“What?” she asked fearlessly. She sat cross-legged on my bed and began to fondle her breasts. I couldn’t stand this torture. After all, we had the same interests. I wanted to be inside her, and there was no doubt that this was what she wanted me to do.
Without saying a word, I walked over to her, knelt between her legs and started rubbing her thighs roughly with my tongue. She seemed to enjoy it; I moved to her breasts and swallowed her big nipples.
She couldn’t bear this excitement and immediately inserted three middle fingers into her dripping jugs. I removed her fingers and replaced them with my tongue. Her milk covered my entire lips. I didn’t have a condom so I suggested her to just go with it.
She would not let me go but insisted that I finger her to orgasm. Her wish was my command and after about three minutes I could feel the muscles in her gut pulsating and I knew she had come. She immediately wrapped my towel around her waist and left her towel on my bed. I was scared; we were getting too close very quickly.
I just wanted to satisfy my sexual desires, but she wanted to go further. I hate it when women leave their clothes in my house. It makes me feel so insecure that I have to limit my girlfriend to where she can and can’t clean.
This reminds me of a babe my girlfriend had been complaining about. She suspected I had slept with her, and I managed to convince her that I didn’t even know her name. When Yasmine spotted this babe wearing my T-shirt at the market, I didn’t know what to say. They had a big fight and were later taken to the police station.
When I got the call, I denied knowing the girl, but she insisted that she had taken the T-shirt on the day she stayed over at my house. This was true, but to be on the safe side, I accused her of theft. Yasmin believed me, and from that day on, I have tried to avoid this happening again.
And this chick was desperately showing off to the neighbors that she was naked in my room. It really pissed me off; I really wished I could do something about her for putting her through so much humiliation.
For about a week, I didn’t talk to her. Every time I saw her majestically wrapping her body in my towel and heading to the bathroom, I felt numb. To keep her from coming to my house again, I invited her over for a drink that evening. At 6 p.m. sharp, she showed up with a bag of Life Savers. Within an hour, I had used up the entire bag. I immediately assured her how tasteless she was. She stormed out the door without a word.
The next morning, I found my towel on the lanyard where we used to hang our clothes. I took it down and replaced it with hers. From that day on, I became the public enemy of all the girls in Namasuba because she spread the rumor that I was impotent.
I couldn’t stand this embarrassment so I had to move to Ndiba where I am the “fashionable” one. “Sexy” I know you are reading this, can we meet tomorrow and I will prove to you that I am a real man. I suggest we meet on this page because it is convenient for both of us.
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