Hilarious piece written by Investment Banker, award winning author and Blogger Joseph Edgar. Read below:
All my life I have been a philanderer.
It all started with my mother’s house maids. They were usually very beautiful, full bodied and in their prime. I used to hide and stare at them and I swear I could catch my father, a well known pastor also catch a stare . Their full breast pointing towards the heavens and beckoning the young teanager just coming into puberty and pushed with all sort of wet dreams to come touch.
This was trauma, this was not imaginable. You sleep and wake up with stained sheets after a lust filled sleep sequence where you are pursued by a hundred virgins. Just as you run into the toilet to clean up, you are assaulted by this scantily clad house maid sweeping just infront of you. Her short skirts barely covering her pubes as she goes through the motion of sweeping.
As she continues you begin to feel the rise in your crotch. You grab it and try not to scream. She is pretending to be oblivious of your discomfort, breast swinging from side to side exposed without the protective cover of the bra and you just know that you are dead meat and from that moment you start plotting your moves.
You were going to kill this meat. You will take your time and plot an effective strategy that will surely give you release from this very painful urge that has continued to bedevil your every move.
So you lay in bed, with the most painful erection imaginable and wait for your moment. Your planning had to be precise and pinpoint. You dont care if the maid was interested in you or not. She really had no choice she was just the maid and it was a privilege for her to be the container of your royal juices. The only problem was mum.
Kai, she was strict and a disciplinarian. She must not even know that you harbored such satanic thoughts otherwise you would be castrated. She had once shown you your grave when she caught you watching two people hug on TV. If she was prepared to kill her own child for simply watching people on TV hug, then you can imagine the kind of painful death that awaits you if she ever caught you in this evil act.
But the pleasure from the expected coup was much more appealing than the prospect of painful castration carried out by your own mother. So you keep plotting and Ekaette did not help matters. It appears that her nipples were growing out each morning, calling you softly in the name only your mum calls you- Ini. It said, Ini ever so softly, please come to me, come to me, risk your life and come to me, is it not better you died instead of impaling yourself on the pole of masturbtory emptiness.
As I watched Ekaette I knew it was better to die rather than continue living as a slave. She was divine, skin like olive oil, straight legs with a complexion like well made Milo. A body that has not yet been touched by any man alive. Breasts like the hills of Obudu and buttocks that reminded me of the sexy bumps that line the very beautiful regions of the land of my birth in Uyo. She was angelic, poor and dirty in an attractive way. She was my desire, my dream, my only ambition in life. This was my touch and die dream.
I carefully watched her every move, peeped at her in the bathroom. I had put a hole on the door and each time she went in, which was not too often, I will move into my observatory post, hands on my …… And eyes stuck firmly in the hole I watched as she gently rubbed down. I began wishing I was born as a sponge. I envied the stupid thing and would have gladly exchanged my miserable life with that of the very lucky sponge. The sponge went everywhere I needed to go, the sponge touched those wonderful breasts, went in between the sweet cleavage and went in between her thighs, touching, feeling and caressing while I remained stuck with a bulging erection that sent searing pain through my body straight into my dying brain.
After months of masturbating to her sweet illusory images. Watching not only her every move but also my mum, the time had come for action. This was my own Major Nzeogwu’s night of the long knives. Today I was going to end the first republic of masturbation and instill a new Government of physical penetration. Abolishing the regions and assuming total control of that heavenly body that Ekaette carried around shomolu daring and haunting all men from fathers through sons down to house boys. This coup was for all men who drooled after Ekaette and could do nothing about it. I was going to shoot to kill and like the brave soldier that I was, I was ready to die for this cause.
My suicide note was ready under my pillow. I had given all my earthly possession which at that point was my fathers spare tyre which was my favourite toy to my brother Ernest and also asked that the six strokes of the cane I was owing my mum for selling her plastic elegenza coolers to the neighborhood Mallam for an opportunity to touch his girlfriend breasts just once be also given to the same Ernest for being such a loyal brother.
I proceeded with my plan. I was to strike after the 9 0clock news. This was the moment my parents where in their most immobile, they would have killed themselves with the biggest bowl of FuFu and delicious Afang soup. This was their habit and after the heavy meal they will drown it all with the biggest bottle of Coca Cola they could find after which they will just fall asleep in each other’s arms snoring with so much violence that one could be forgiven if you thought that Shomolu had been hit by a massive earthquake.
I was ready, as the news was coming to an end, I started my move. Stripped off my pajamas, wore only a Tshirt leaving me naked below. I had to be ready and not slowed down by any stupid pajamas. As the zero hour approached, I knelt down one last time and sent a small prayer to my guardian angel, praying for success and protection on this mission. As the snoring began, I began my creeping, my dick growing in size each step taking me towards my Ekaette, as I crawled past the living room I did not bother to check my parents, I heard the sound of heavy snore and continued my crawling. On all fours I moved, very quietly but steadfastly, as I moved I imagined her soft nipples between my lips and I let out a sigh of pleasure, even as spittle drooled from my expectant mouth. This is the D.Day, my own apocalypse, Ekaette would finally be mine.
By the time, I had past the living room, I was on my belly crawling like a snake and moving sideways in a bid not to hit any furniture and wake the whole house. This was a very akward move as my erect member was scraping on the rug and causing discomfort, I did not mind. I kept moving and the image of Ekaeetes opened legs taking me in inspiring me to work harder. I got to her door, near the toilet, I pushed the door open slightly and in the darkness I could swear I could hear her say come to me. I waited just a little bit to pull off my Tshirt so as not to waste time giving her access to my whole body.
I was stark naked in her room on the floor with my belly firmly scraping the concrete floorings, my erection hard as steel. Yes, today is the day. Yes my friends in school would be so proud of me, they were waiting for the news the following day and infact my rating had gone so high amongst them just by my mere attempt, you can now imagine what I would be when I pour my seed into Ekaette making me stake up my flag on her mountain top.
I touched my d..k one last time making sure it was ready and would not disappoint me, licking my lips and while still on the floor but ready to crawl up to the bed to touch my darling when all of a sudden the lights came up and yeaaaaaaaaaah , it was my mum on Ekaettes bed o.
Ahhhhhh my Mamaaaa in all her fat glory with the longest cane I have ever seen in my life. My erection deserted me o. The coward, it ran away and left me to my wahala alone. My D…..k shrunk into my belly and looked like a small babies thumb and I actually saw my soul slowly leaving my carcass.
I remained on the floor, stark naked, looking for tears to cry but none came. I could not beg, the humiliation was something else. My Dad came in and seeing me in my state could only laugh. I didn’t even have enough pubic hair to cover my shame and this time instead of praying to be a sponge I actually was looking for something to strangle myself with instead of dying at the hands of the woman that gave birth to me.
Ekaette was asked to mete out the punishment. To flog me with the whip my mum had bought for me. She was to give me twenty strokes of the cane on my bare buttocks while asking me to repeat that I will never have lustful thoughts about her or any woman for that matter ever again.
My humiliation was complete as the symbol of my lust now turned into my tormentor. She unleashed the strokes with the venom of a Python. She beat the living day lights out of my skin and I screamed for help. I called Prophet Elijah to burn this witch with fire, I called on John the Baptist to descend and circumcise her so she can bleed to death but all these prophets failed me as she continued to decimate my bare buttocks with lashes of anger. As she hit me, I prayed for death as my younger brothers woke up and where watching with pity as their Hero was loosing his throne to a mere house maid. I cried o my people, I cried and swore to be gay if I ever came out of this alive. No p…y was worth this kind of pain.
But wait by the twelfth stroke, I noticed the swaying of her breast. As she lifted her hands that wonderful contraption went up and as she slammed into me, I sighted the nipples. The pain stopped immediately and I told them by the fifteenth stroke, that she had only given me nine. I wanted more, I needed to see those nipples again as they told me sorry in my pain. They beckoned at me and told me not to worry that there were thousands of nipples in my future begging to be touched, nibbled, chewed and sucked and so I smiled as I continued to receive her strokes.
At the end, I was left in a pool of blood on the floor in her room. Left to die like the neighborhood thief but as they walked away they failed to see the smile on my face. A smile of satisfaction that heralded the bitter sweetness of my misadventure. I failed but was assured that if I worked harder and planned better I would score.