First, you hear it; calling out your name in that sweet symphony of manliness that never fails to get you. You twist your body the other way, willing the patch of skin between your legs to grow up and behave its age. But you can’t resist it; because it knows. It knows about the wet patch between your legs and the pointed nipples beneath your pushups, it knows about the uneven breathing and all the pleasurable pain that’s threatening to burst through your skin. It knows you are fighting a losing battle so it whispers the magic words:
And you oblige, with your thigh. You touch him, lightly, like a fairy’s kiss and sparks fly through your body in that brief moment.
“Oh shit!” You swear under your breath but you touch him again, with your eyes.
You make your way from his sexy, hairless head through the scanty strands of hair on his chin and stop at his chest because you can’t go any further. Everything else fades away and all you can see is his broad chest, right before you, begging for your touch.
You can see his breasts through the tight fitted t shirt he has on and it’s screaming
It’s not just his chest. It’s the whole damn torso begging you for sweet release. So you reach out for his tiny nipples. You don’t really know what you’re doing but the nipples are a good place to start…
You catch yourself just in time to avoid a harassment lawsuit. You silently chide yourself for being such a bad child and thank your stars that nobody has noticed your uneven breathing and tightly crossed legs.
You brush your arm against his, it feels good so you stylishly lean back in to him but he adjusts himself so you are trapped between his arm and the other arm of the uncomfortable chair. Bolts of pain shoot through your lower back but you ignore it. Instead you close your eyes and imagine his arms around you, rocking you, soothing away the pain; his soft skin rubbing on yours…
This position is much better, with his arm firmly against yours and the scent of his perfume lingering exotically around your senses, you keep going. This time you take a good look at his thighs. You can see through the cuts in his jeans, he’s hairy.
You’ve always liked big guys with hair in the right place. You’re thinking up ways to put his thigh to good use… your back on the floor, your legs wrapped around his waist… Or maybe a good old lap dance… He’s probably ticklish and cuddly and hard in all the right places….
“Seyifunmi…” He’s calling your name now, trying to get you to open up
“Hmm….” You moan into his lips while pressing your thighs together. A lady does not give in the first tim—
Out of nowhere, a quick slap connects with your neck and all thoughts of the big black stranger fade away as the banking hall comes into focus although your father’s angry face is the only thing you see.
“Stupid girl! What are you doing?”
“Come on let’s go. Stupid child!”
You drag your embarrassed self out of the banking hall, trying to ignore the voices in your head asking you to take one last look at the fine man. Once you settle down inside the car, you reach for your medication. It should calm you down a bit …
That’s when you see the pink teller neatly tucked in the tiny opening of your bag, it reads,
“Call me when you are through fantasizing about my body, 0806—”
You feel the heat rush through your body as you dial the number. Your thoughts consumed by the hairy stranger that’s about to know you and all the pleasurable pain that comes with knowing you…
A deeply masculine voice answers after the first ring,