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Friday, July 29, 2016

Story of the day( romantic) episode 1

He was sitting at the edge of my bed.
Most nights we talked in my room, or at a corner in
the
compound that housed the main building and the
quarters.
There were times we ‘gisted’ till 10 p.m., once, 11
p.m.,
discussing varied topics from politics to marriage.
We never lacked anything to say to each other.
He was a good gentleman, one of the most gallant
men I’ve
ever met. He was tall and handsome; though
outspoken,
sometimes appearing to be shy.
I met him the first day I came into the compound, and
we
quickly became close, closer as each day passed. We
had been
drawn to each other like magnets.
That fateful day, it happened that we were the only
ones in the
compound; well, just us and the gate man.
It was election period and the landlord and other
tenants had
travelled with their families, scared there might be
crisis.
As he sat there in my room that calm night, we
suddenly became
quiet. For the first time ever, we ran out of things to
discuss.
I glanced his way; he appeared lost in thought. I
wondered, for
a brief second, what he was thinking.
I waited to hear “Miss, have a lovely night” as he
usually did
before rising to leave, but it didn’t come.
He spoke with a tribal accent that was sweet to the
ears.
Then I felt him shift. The next moment, I felt his hand
on my
face.
He was touching my lips, running his thumb over
them, his eyes
dim with focus.
Men are always usually fascinated by my lips and I
kept
wondering why.
With his thumb, he continued to caress my lips,
moving round the
entire outline.
My eyes narrowed in curiosity.
Then he moved to my ear and started to stroke it too,
touching
it like he would a baby.
I was quiet still.
With great care he continued, lovingly.
He kept on at it until I whispered to him, as if afraid
someone
else would hear, ‘What are you doing?’
‘Sshh,’ he said. ‘Just enjoy it.’
I remained quiet, still wondering what was there to
enjoy in his
stroking my face. I didn’t remember asking him for a
facial
massage. Nothing on my face is sensitive enough to
bring
pleasure.
Just so I thought.
Truth is, I’ve never trusted a man with anything
before, my
body least of all.
But I allowed him. I liked him.
His hands travelled down to my neck, stroked it a
while and
then down to my breasts.
He slipped his lips into mine as he cupped one breast.
For once, I felt something. A sudden twitch, as if from
cold.
Through the flimsy fabric of my nightie, he stroked the
tips of
my breasts, ever so gently.
He took them in turns now, working with experience.
For a man
in his thirties, his hand was surprisingly smooth.
He would hold one breast tip between his fingers and
then twist
gently. Had my mouth been free, I’d have thrown out
a moan.
Then he pulled out his lips. He looked at me, great
emotion in
his eyes.
Seeing him that way, a sudden warmness flowed
through me,
swiftly spreading round every nerve in my body.
My heart started to beat faster. I could feel the
intense arousal
starting to build up within me.
He drew down my nightie to bare my breasts; he
cupped each
breast with his hands and kept on teasing the tips.
I began to moan quietly.
Then his lips descended on one rock-hard nipple,
covering it, soft
and wet.
I felt a sudden vibration all round my body. My knees
knocked
together.
With a combination of his sweet, fleshy lips, tongue
and teeth, he
gave me a feeling that was close to magic. He worked
on me
with ripe experience—one hand covering one breast,
his lips
covering the other...........wait for episode 2 tomorrow. Have a wonderful moment. Don't miss juicy episodes. Thanks
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