Granted p2

“Your lips are so soft,” he said struggling a bit to catch his breath.

She responded by going back to his. This time more sensually than aggressively. She raised herself up and straddled him, ever so slowly, without breaking off from his hungry mouth. The kiss deepened as she sat on him. He pulled her tightly against his crotch and groaned when the right contact was made.

” I want you so bad,” he said as he shifted from her mouth to her neck, trailing little kisses along its length. This gentle gesture did little to calm her down. She had always treasure little gentle moments amidst the heat of passion. It turned her on even more. To her it showed care and appreciation of the goddess that she was.

” You can have me, ” she responded with a hoarse whisper. They fumbled with each others clothes. He lifted her up and laid her on the bed, standing back to take in her naked frame. She parted her legs and was thrilled to see his penis jerk up in total anticipation.

“You like that? How about you watch me? ” She said daringly. She was shocked at her confidence and yet so thrilled. He staggered back on the couch and sat back, his mouth slightly open as if he could not believe that this was actually happening. She sucked on her finger with her eyes glued to his and trailed it along her stomach. She then parted her legs further and could feel how moist she was. Her hand moved to her center and she parted her lips, exposing her clitoris. The way his eyes shone and darkened at the same time encouraged her to put on quite the show. She dipped a single finger and pulled it out with a string of her juices.

” Damn baby, I need to be inside you right now,” he declared almost pleading.

She did not respond but used the wet finger to gently rub her flesh in small circles never touching her throbbing clit. She moaned softly and struggled to keep her eyes open. She wanted to do this looking right at him. She wanted to be in control of the moment. Her other hand moved to her breast and pinched her nipple. She tagged at it as she fastened her pace on her soaking pussy. She could feel herself tightening. She parted her legs all the way to make sure he could observe every part of her as she orgasmed.

“I’m so close, ” she moaned. She tagged her nipple harder as she shifted to her clit and rubbed it furiously. Tears burned her eyes as she refused to shut them. She did not want to miss a moment of him gawking at her as she bared the most intimate of moments in front of him. She pulsated and contracted through the most intense orgasm she had ever had by her own hand.

“Fuck, look at that ass twitch, ” he said suddenly kneeling in front of her and soaking in all her juices, trailing his hot tongue up and down her pussy and booty hole. She held on to his head, huffing and puffing and trying to come back to earth. He moved up to her lips and kissed her deeply, making her taste herself. ” You’re so beautiful,” he said softly. She shifted to let him know that she was ready for him. He placed his hand on her neck and slid in her pussy steadily and gently. The way his shaft filled her perfectly had them both sigh within the kiss they shared.

“Fuck.”

He fucked her slowly and consistently. They cussed and moaned with each stroke. She lifted her hips for more contact and he went deeper. He clenched his jaws taking in her recycled air from his mouth to hers and back again, all this with a fusion of gasps of wonder and heaves of pleasure. His intensity had now increased double fold and the squelch like a baby’s run, on a wet floor reverberated off the plastered walls.

There was a clatter as the glasses with untouched shots from the earlier refill hit the floor, checking them out of the Eros world they’d gotten themselves into. She came off under him the glass having startled her but at the same moment lit up much wilder ideas.

‘’Lay back”, she said to him which he followed with unbridled obedience.

She moved sinuously down from his chest all the while giving him a carnal look and moved closer down his crotch. He’d never seen his penis so straight and swollen. He could almost have sworn he saw it shake in agreement saying, ‘I know’. Oh well. Must have been his heart racing in anticipation.

She held it by its base and her mouth closed in on the elongated phallus. The warm breath from her mouth gave a scintillating invitation to her warm and moist mouth making slow and delicate movements up and down his hardness. This quickly changed as voices rose to a crescendo coupled with faster movements and attempts to take it all in.

“Huuugh!”

She spit on it and sucked the tip while rubbing the shaft with her hand simultaneously all the while never letting her eyes leave his. She tried again to take it all in. Tears ran from her eyes and she gagged. She did this for a while until it was sloppy and wet. She now held his penis by hand and stroked, hitting the precipices of the glans which sent shivers right up his lower back. She regretted having not carried her gum job that came highly recommend by her colleagues from college.

She could tell he enjoyed her hand work. With the right pace, pressure and ringing at the right points the deliberate action could still send him into a fire and recoil he’d only wish for.

“I’m close”, he said, his eyes closed but still urging her on. She smiled now looking at the tidal wave hit his shore.

Ooh FUCK! I love this.

He came with abandon.

She stared at him and bust out laughing at how weak he was. She didn’t mean to mock him, which he understood, grabbing her to lay on his chest and joining in the laughter.

A boy, a banana plant and puberty.

By Mikey.

There are two kinds of boys. Boys who wear underwear and those who don’t. Those that do, that is wear underwear, are also the same kind who will first change from their well-polished black leather schools shoes to football boots before playing a football match. It does not matter what type of pitch they are playing on. whether well carpeted or just your ordinary dusty village field. They will have clean football boots even after the match has ended. They are the same kind who will have a pencil and an eraser in class. And most of the times they will refuse to share the eraser. Because erasers are not to be used by mere mortals. No, erasers are for boys who wear underwear.

Then there is the care free kind. Boys who feel caged by the common decency of having their shorts on. Were it a free world, they would proudly walk anywhere only adorned on nothing but skin. Having to fumble with their shorts zipper is too much work for them. When nature calls all they want is to answer immediately. They don’t want to first search for the answer call button and have to decide whether to put nature on hold, reject or answer the call. That was decided for them way before they came to be. Their forefathers never saw the need for pants leave alone underwear. The wisdom of yore never felt at all inclined towards fabric that restricted the lower body from enjoying unshaded sunlight.

They also don’t.

The first impression you get when you meet Lee is that he is one of those who wore underwear in his yester years. He is a cultured man. His beard is always well trimmed, his fingers manicured and his head clean shaved. He definitely always had an eraser and a pencil sharpener for good measures. Remember that very old adage ‘never judge a book by its cover’? This is the perfect example. Lee squarely falls in the latter category. Those illuminated by the wisdom of our fore fathers. Those that don’t want to fumble with shorts zippers.

Anyways I recently met up with him and we reminisced of the days long gone. The days we slid in mud on our bare backs and came out unscathed. The days we drunk raw cattle milk straight from their udders as the herders had lunch or spoke about girls. Then after a couple of dry whisky shots, lee reminded me of an incident he had made me promise never to talk about. It was a threat actually. He had threatened to poison my rabbits were I ever to talk about it. I like rabbit meat. So I told it to no one. My rabbits are long gone by now, so I have nothing to fear.

He is in his thirteenth year, and he is discovering the little man down there. The pleasures of having a release although only through wet dreams are really getting into him. He has tried to talk to a few girls but they find him a little bit too rough for their liking. He does not lose hope though. He is a fiend chasing blow. He must empty his nuts. A man’s got to do what a man does. This is a mantra engrained in every male. Immediately after the umbilical cord is detached. Lee does just that.

Banana trees are not what comes to your mind when you think of sexual gratification. But that is exactly what lee thought of. He is a banana lover. And what he loves he loves passionately. Anyways at the dead of the night lee walks to a bunch of banana plants. Without short but most importantly without his boxers on and like a talented botanist, bores a hole into one of them. He holds the banana tree tightly in his arms, whispers sweet nothings into its green fleshy skin until it feels warm. Lee then takes his hard pubescent manhood and gently pushes himself into it. The tree moves gently to the sway of the night wind. Lee thrusts. The tree moves, lee thrusts. A rhythm is formed. Passion environs these two lovers and no one can stop them now. As they near climax the wind increases its speed as if urging them on. Lee pummels even harder. Finally the banana plant is unable to hold the weight anymore. It gives in and they both come tumbling down. This has been happening on the precipice of a very steep slope. As soon as they touch down, gravity has its way with them and both the young human lover and his plant mistress are sent rolling down the slope. The pubescent boy butt naked with no underwear.

Granted

Pt 1.

After several shots of Grants, which had started as a confidence booster, for both of them actually, she was feeling a bit flushed, more giggly and definitely more self-assured. She eyed him shyly,and he eyed her back, teasingly. His eyes kept darting towards the tattoo on her thigh and somehow, she sensed what was was translated in them behind those glasses of his.

She had not been sure how this would go when she had shot her shot. She had had her eyes on him for months, and when for the most part she had felt almost invisible to him, she was always glad of any encounter she got to have with him. No matter how brief. Sometimes she liked to build castles in the air, with all kinds of fantasies giving her wings, enabling her to remain for hours on cloud nine. And now he was here.

They had talked about nothing in particular when he had first arrived in her small, cosy house. But now they joked and laughed, with her throwing her head back to chuckle at his playful retorts. The occasional longer than usual, but just brief enough, stares from him sent little shock waves down her center and she shifted her legs in a weak attempt to calm her mind down to good behavior.

“Another shot.”

He said in a ‘no argument about that, please’ tone and she scooted closer to pass her glass to him. She could smell his deodorant and she was take aback by how that seemed to turn her on even more. She had sat close to him in other environments but had never caught a whiff of his scent before. Her nostrils widened a bit more, to inhale his sweetness, which seemed to directly communicate to her little lady who did little nods of her own in approval and appreciation. Damn! How she wanted to lean just an inch more and ravage on his lips; she almost moaned out load with want and need.

They bottom-uped their drinks and she had to twist her face as hers burned down her throat. Just as she was recovering from the horror that is whiskey, she felt his hand on her thigh, which erased all the cussing she had been doing in her head to cope with the burning after taste. She sighed internally with desire fizzing up in her like a shaken bottle of champagne. She wanted to remain calm and casual, but dammit hadn’t she played this in her head more than enough. Every time being so bitter sweet she almost wailed in frustration. Like edging and edging but being interrupted right before the explosion!

She looked at him daringly, seductively, encouragingly. Wanting him to know that she wanted this. Right there, right then. Letting him know that she was no lady who wanted to take things slow. She was a woman. She wanted him beside her, inside her, all flesh and bone. She wanted to feel his hands on her. She wanted to feel his heartbeat against hers. She wanted him then, and she knew she would want him again.

At this exact moment though, she did not want the sex just yet. She wanted the things that would lead up to it. The slow kissing, then the passionate kissing. The pulling closer with his palm on the small of her back. The neck kisses and then the back to her lips fervent kisses. She needed the lip biting and the heavy breathing. The grabbing and the grinding. She wanted to feel his hard body pressed longingly against her delicate female form. She wanted his hand to moved untold along her bare thighs and find their way in her pulsating core. She wanted him to feel every part of her. Little moans escaped her, propelling him to pull her closer, as though there was any space left between them. As if he wanted them to merge into one. As if he needed her to understand him in the way he could not express in words.

Just in perfect sync, they broke off each other, their foreheads and every other part of them still against each other except their lips; pausing to catch their breath. Feeling each other’s unspoken words.

NO HARD EDGES

BY KAMAU ROBERT 

Hello Beautiful people of the world!The new decade is here,yes!This is the decade most of us in our twenties are going to make our dreams come true,hopefully find true love and proudly become amazing parents or simply be happy (fingers crossed)

Let’s come back to 2020 first,so far the year has been good and bad…so much has happened and we are only two months in.
I will be honest here,it’s damn scary,I personally feel the pressure…we all feel the pressure to change and achieve somethings in the shortest time possible.

It’s February now,matters of the heart,let’s talk about that a little.
Valentines is here,love birds are going all out and crazy;matching outfits,expensive gifts and dinners or just happy to have and support each other in this times.
The singles out there,do what makes you happy,find yourself and don’t hide your feelings.

Whether you are in love or not,DO YOU this valentines and preferably the rest of the year.Say a prayer in the morning because the world is a beautiful place and we are getting ready by God’s Grace.
Take risks,believe in the greater you…have a purpose and mostly be comfortable in your hard edges.You are a warrior because beneath your torn heart,is a love song…the kind you listen to when going back home.

Now,my parting words since we don’t have all day.Be kind to yourself,be weird,fall in love and continue to dream big.

Happy Valentines and have a beautiful day.

 

A lover of Love.

By Jay Kay.

I want to look at a kind act and see a feature of love. I don’t want to look at it anymore and just ask: why was this done? What do they want back? Will she ask for something? Does she want me to repay her?

Sometimes you know I’m scared. Well it can’t be sometimes cause I always am. I fear to trust but I’m trying. Am trying to kill this tower like walls and welcome these people in but.
They scare me. At times I think I fear people more than I fear loneliness.

I used to think love was beyond reach,
That our minds couldn’t bend it our way,
I used to believe a lover was destiny’s choice,
That all we had to do was go with the flow,
I used to believe love would care itself to growth,
That love was a force beyond our control,
Fighting to draw us together.
I used to, till I met love.

Love was beautiful,
Graced with magnificent elegance,
Love cared, and filled my days with joy,
Love conquered my innocent mind,
Love won my heart over, I gave myself to love,
I saw destiny’s light ahead.

But then love changed,
Love began to care less, and I cared more to compensate,
Love created vacuums in my space,
Love suffocated my soul beneath it’s own,
And bruised my ego.
Love broke me, and taught me its nature.

Love isn’t fixed, love isn’t destiny’s choice,
Love is a choice we make,
Love grows in those little moments we choose to share.

What does it take?

“I have had dreams, and I have had nightmares. I overcame the nightmares, because of my dreams.” ~Jonas Sulk.

What does it take to overcome a nightmare? When you can’t seem to get over or past it long enough? When it comes up at some point during the day or night? Everyday. When it’s been months? When it’s a whole new year? Does it mean your dreams aren’t big enough? Bright enough? What does it take to not be triggered? To not relate? What does it take to not be lying in bed at night and you’re suddenly choking back tears? To sometimes have similar nightmares in your sleep? What does it take to not have moments of terrorising fear when you’re with your lover? To push him away because you can’t stand his weight on you?

The thing is, I don’t remember much of it. I don’t remember how it started, or how it ended. I don’t remember all of what I said, or what was said to me. I don’t remember if it was one of them, or two of them or all of them. All I remember, clear as day, is trying my best to push him/them off. My feeble attempts, my helplessness. I remember the stinging cold of the night. The dampness of the grass where I spent the night.

The truth is I didn’t really register it until the next day. And even then, even now, I don’t remember all of it. I remember the difficulty of the next day. Seeing the familiar face of my brother. Him seeing me and immediately asking me if I had been raped. The breakdown at my answer at the realization and confirmation of the previous night. The having to give an account of events at the police station and the hospital. A recollection of details I could hardly remember. My version changing at every interrogation. The confusion. The medical tests. The bruises on my face. The black eye that lasted for a week. The dirt under my fingernails. The dried leaves in my hair. The dirt on my clothes. The bruises on my thighs. The stench of stale alcohol on my breath.

Did the fact that I had been extremely intoxicated help? Was it better that I didn’t fully recall the assault? The pain? Their faces? Or was it worse? Worse because it wouldn’t have happened were I sober? Worse because the rapists will forever walk scot-free? Worse because I couldn’t have fought them off tried as I could? As I did?

That thing in the movies. Where you burn a note or some item or throw something in the river…and somehow you find some sort of closure. I tried it, you know? Burnt the medical records and my police statement. It didn’t work. And now I think I’ll never be fine. Its a matter locked up inside me, locked below my breast, locked up in the deepest crevices of my brain, as though in a grave, a place of permanence.

And so I ask. What does it take to overcome a nightmare?

Environmental Specialist in the making.

Going into University, I had no idea what the course I had chosen, BSc. Environmental Science, with IT, entailed. Recently though, I realized that having attained my degree, being that time where I am seeking job opportunities, that it is not only about a favourable salary I desire. Someone asked me where my motivation lies. What is my commitment?

The thing that motivates me the most would be the very increasing environmental issues in our world. How the Environment seems to deteriorate every other day with almost noone batting an eye. The existing relationship between development &population increase, which are inevitable, and the environment has proven to be almost always negative. The weak enforcement of environmental regulations within governments motivates me to want to facilitate environmental protection and conservation in whole but most importantly to protect the unaware of the kind of adverse effects brought upon by human activities to the environment. A chance to work with the people to improve their livelihoods, to impact their lives with long term solutions to their immediate problems is a motivation I look forward to attaining.
The factor that made me push through my coursework with undying passion was the realization that I have the opportunity to change the world. To work towards maintaining it and improving it where many are inclined to destroy it as they fill their pockets. I have the opportunity to change a life by simply providing solutions to existing problems; water shortage, infertile lands, sustainable development, improved sanitation systems and subsequently improved health etc etc.

If given an opportunity where I can work hands on, on improving our earth, and most importantly this country, I would be wholly committed because I have the passion and I have the ability to make it just a little better for the next generation. It is my belief that the environment need not be deteriorating when so many systems for its protection exist or can be built. Sustainable development can be achieved in our country and I intend to prove that. I intend to raise awareness on these issues. I intend to make people realise just how detrimental climate change is. The need for situational focus on coping strategies to deal with its already existing effects to avoid eventual crises.

Personally,  I am a hardworking individual who strives to achieve the best in all areas and I am always eager to learn new skills and advance my career. I am, therefore, keen to build upon my knowledge and continue to learn within each and any sector that I would find myself in. I can conduct EIAs and EAs and prepare subsequent reports, which ultimately enables Compliance with environmental laws and regulations for its protection. I have worked in waste management, both effluent and solid waste and would be thrilled to work towards coming up with and implementing systems that ultimately minimize generation of waste and facilitate effective disposal of the same. I also aspire to be an implementor of environmental policies where I would be at the forefront in coming up with effective policies as well as improving existing ones. I have a load of theoretical knowledge that I wish to put into implementation as I learn new things along the way.

I have a whole vision of how I would love our country to look like. To be like. I wish that our citizens would be aware of the importance of maintaining their environment to avoid creation of more destruction opportunities. I wish for a government that not only aims for development but considers its sustainability. I aim to protect our natural resources against those set to destroy them for personal gain. I aim to protect the vulnerable against situations they find themselves in due to those on top of the food chain. I aim to come up with and implement systems and solutions to existing and arising problems in our country.

I aim to teach and to learn.

Of Blunts and Nuts.

I had just visited my cutty buddy for the first time in two months. I was dressed in my black pencil skirt and black cropsweater looking fine af. In all honesty I had missed the guy and seeing him made me glad.  We caught up not really talking about anything in particular. He offered a glass of juice and sat there next to me.

After a while, he rose from his seat and came back with a blunt and a lighter. Joy fizzed up in me like a shaken bottle of champagne. No better way to conversate than over a sweet sweet blunt. He played a J Cole mixtape and my oh my wasn’t that a mood. Evening was settling in as we blazed through the conversation.

“Oh, by the way, you’re looking so fine in that outfit. I’m sure it was a problem from the bus stop to here for you cus of those guys,” he said grinning at me. An exciting chill crawled down the length of my body, eating it up, inch by inch.

“Thanks babe.” I said shyly rising to get a glass of water. That shit gets me perched. We sat in silence letting J Cole speak to us. Every now and then one of us would sing along to our favorite lyrics.

He moved closer and turned my head to him, planting a small kiss at the corner of my lips. That was enough to give me an inexplicable million-volt charge that was like nothing else and we were fumbling in passion in no time. He pinned me down on the couch grabbing me everywhere. I was literally breathless. Had it been that damn long?

My head swirled with the highness and the excitement. Low moans kept escaping my throat. I hoisted myself up,  feeling like the room was shifting along with me and straddled him. His hands grabbed my ass and pulled me forward to his crotch. By this time the skirt had risen all the way up to my thighs almost at my waist. I struggled for more contact and grinded against him moaning with every touch there.

There was no time to waste. I lifted myself up and fumbled with his belt.  Sensing my frustration, he started to pull his pants down as I pulled my panties to the side. His trousers were barely at his knees when I sank down on his steady manhood and Lord did that feel good!

“Fuck,” he let out.

“Fuck,” I said in reply.

He quickly pulled up my top and sunk his face between my breasts squeezing them together and letting out a long sigh under his breath. I rose again to completely pull off my panties and went in for the kill. He cussed again as I sank once more of to his shaft. Utter bliss! Whether it was missing him, or that fuzziness in my head from the smoke,  I rode his dick like my life depended on it. I could feel my ass bouncing up and down and looking at his face and seeing him lost in the pleasure only gave me more stamina. I whined my waist against his dick and lived for that continuos cuss over and over. Up down,  Up down, Swiiiirl.

I could feel it was time to pick up the pace. My own body was a tight knot of pleasure. I held on to his head as it lay on my full bust and he on to my butt and together we fucked each other as we neared the end. Total raw fuckery.  I felt his warm essence shoot up within my walls which brought me to the edge, tightening and shivering against his neck.

We couldn’t help but laugh out in tital gratification as we panted the minutes away.

 

A Journey To Self-Love

People almost always want to go back to when they were little kids. When they were carefree, oblivious, loved, genuinely happy and bubbly. This is a child’s life, is it not? Where all the attention is directed to you, for all the right reasons.

I have been reading this book: ‘Madly in love with me‘ by Christine Arylo. Christine says the good news is, thay we already know how to love ourselves, we’ve just forgotten. That I was born that way, it’s my natural state. That I should think back to when I was a little girl and carefree; open to the wonder of the world; when my light was super bright.

You see, the thing is though, I cannot remember this little girl. No matter how hard I try. All I seem to remember is an awkward little girl, almost always panicked or afraid, uncertain of her place in the world. Maybe it’s because some bitterness was taken out on me, more often than not. Maybe it’s because I was only a little over a year older than our last born and he hogged all the attention I was supposed to be given. Maybe it’s because the only person who showed me some favoritism was almost always absent and eventually left our lives. I don’t know, maybe it’s because all my birthday cakes turned out burnt.

I was my only best friend. I perfected the art of stuffing down my feelings and keeping my opinions to myself, which only resulted to a timid adult who cowers back in social settings. Panic literally fizzes up in me, like a shaken bottle of champagne, whenever I’m expected to give my opinion in a group of people.

“Imagine how your life might have been different if self-love had been spoken of openly as you grew up. A message of self love.”

I wish a lot of things. I wish I was spoken to more, than being shouted at half of the time. I wish someone regularly took the time to ask, ‘A penny for your thoughts?’ I wish I felt like I had a confidant, a cushion, a best friend.

In the words of Seinabo Sei, however:

I’ve been thinking about tomorrow, instead of drowning in the past. I’ve had good times even back when dreams were all I had to trust. So as I wake up this bright morning, nothing is going to break me down.

I will forge on to forgive my past, to arise from it like a phoenix from it’s ashes, and ultimately conquer this journey of self love.

Bless.

The Garden

Hello there.

I have always been an avid reader. Mostly I enjoy African reads and thrillers for other bestsellers. Additionally, I like to read blogs. All sorts: travel, fashion, life, nutrition, erotica, etc. It is from this culture, that I have decided to give writing a try.

Hope you enjoy.

You shall forgive this very first post. Because it is not original. It’s rather a summary. See, I recently set out on a journey. A journey to seek a sense of spirituality. To be honest, I still don’t understand what that means. I have asked for help from friends, and every one of them seems to have a different perspective on what that entails. Let’s just say, I am still gathering data before I start to exercise or experience that which I seek.

I came across a book, rather it was recommended to me by one of these friends. You may have read it, you may have not. It is from this book that I picked out what I will write here now. A brief summary of key points that I gathered, for a part of the inspiration that I received from reading this book. So like I said, forgive.

The garden here is a representation of the mind. The mind is one of the fundamental principles which embodies the keys to self leadership, personal responsibility and spiritual enlightenment. You see, just like a garden, you must care for, nurture and cultivate your mind, for it to blossom. You must rid it of all toxic waste which would normally manifest as worries, anxieties, self-created fears, fretting about the past, brooding over the future, et. cetera.

It is important that you adapt a positive paradigm about your world and all that is in it. Dare to dream that you are more than the sum of your current circumstances. Begin to live out of the glory of your imagination, not your memory. Did you know that ninety-five percent of about the average sixty thousand thoughts running through your mind per day are the same as those you thought about the day before?

If you hope to make remarkable improvements in your outer world you must first start within and change the caliber of your thoughts. Apparently, thoughts are material messengers that we send out to influence our physical world. When you learn to take control of your thoughts, and vividly imagine all that you desire from this worldly existence in a state of total expectancy, dormant forces will awaken inside you- unlocking the true potential of your mind to create the kind of magical life you deserve.

Winston Churchill said, “The price of greatness is, responsibility over each of your thoughts.” Remember, the way you think stems from habit. Even from negative experiences, learn to see opportunities to grow, learn and advance along the road of self-mastery. From struggle, comes strength. Sow the seeds of opportunity in your painful experience and more importantly, have the courage to nourish them. Jonas Salk said, “I have had dreams and I have had nightmares. I overcame the nightmares, because of my dreams”.