| Forum » Foro Dv6/Gr500 » Expendables Daily News Forum. | Date | |
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I will be posting stories | 05/09/2015 14:02 |
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MUST READ: THE VILLAGE GIRL | 05/09/2015 14:03 |
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Edited by @sicox86 30-09-2019 23:42 |
05/09/2015 14:04 |
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Lol | 05/09/2015 14:09 |
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Edited by @sicox86 30-09-2019 23:42 |
05/09/2015 14:15 |
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1799 msgs.
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Saubana, weldone i love literature works and i really enjoyed that piece, for its very rich in literature. | 05/09/2015 15:04 |
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391 msgs.
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Thanks | 05/09/2015 16:17 |
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EPISODE 2 Cynthia continued to call. He held his phone and pressed hard on a button by the side. The phone’s screen turned blank black. ‘Who calling you, Sir?’ He was so tempted to lie, but he didn’t. He was surprised the call interruption hadn’t quite calmed his desire and his organ stood ever so upright, slamming at his zippers like a burglar at a door. ‘That was my fiancee, my dear,’ he said. ‘Your fia-n-sea? What is a fia-n-sea, Sir?’ ‘I Told you to stop calling me sir.’ ‘But I not calling you sir, what you want me to calling you?’ ‘My name is Richard. Or you can call me Nnanna.’ ‘I knowing your name is Nnanna, Sir. I uses to come fetching borehole at your father’s house in Obeagu. You and your brother chasing people away when they making too much noise outside the gate.’ He chuckled. The smile lingered on his face as he stared at her. Her face turned curious. Her beauty seemed highlighted in the expression. ‘Why you looking at me and smiling like that, Sir?’ A feeling sprouted within him, driving his lust to a dangerous height. He bent, swiftly pressed his lips to hers and straightened up again. The deed was done before she could utter any protest. She didn’t. She threw one hand to her mouth as though his lips had burned her. He saw no emotion in her eyes as she fixed them on him. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked and instantly felt that was not the right thing to ask. She didn’t say a word, her palm still covering her mouth and her blank eyes still on him. ‘Mma?’ Remorse came over his face. ‘Mma, I’m sorry, it’s–‘ ‘Doing it again.’ His eyes flew wide. ‘What?’ ‘I said doing that thing again.’ ‘You want me to kiss you again?’ ‘Yes, doing the kissing again.’ His heart gave out a pound that was near audible. He inhaled deeply. He was amazed that a kiss would excite him this way. He kissed Cynthia frequently, she did him too, but the kisses were different, brief, light, majorly communicative, lacking of their true purpose — this wonderful excitation. He leaned towards her and gently planted his lips in between hers. She sucked his upper lip in and held it firm underneath her teeth. He felt a delicious pain. Slowly he reached to the central line of buttons on her long flower gown, gently pulling out a button out of a hole one at a time, careful to know if and when she would protest so that he’d stop immediately. But she didn’t. But when he lowered his head and took her left boobs into his mouth, she slapped his head so hard his urge momentarily left him. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It sweeting me to much.’ His desire came back with force and what they had, though brief, the quickest he’d ever arrived, was hot, mad and wonderful. As they lay together on the sandy ground, even the tingle of sharp sand particles felt sweet on his skin. His other phone rang this time. ‘Is that the fia-n-sea again, Sir?’ He checked. It was Cynthia again. ‘Yes.’ ‘He wanting to tell you something?’ A thud hit his heart. He rose to a sitting position on the sand and she copied. ‘Mma.’ He took her hand and folded it in his. ‘A fiancee is the woman I’m going to marry. Her name is Cynthia.’ The slap that landed on his shaved head this time was hotter, scorching, and hadn’t been spurred by ecstasy. **Continues Below** |
05/09/2015 16:30 |
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391 msgs.
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EPISODE 3 He didn’t feel any fear as he drove into the compound. The fear of her confrontation about why he’d ignored her calls was expected but it didn’t manifest. His mind overflowed with bliss, strange but lovely. He whistled as he parked his car. He came down with a foreign poise, jiggling his car keys. Cynthia’s car, a dark blue Camry, was parked at a corner. He asked Okon how long his madam had been around. Referring to her as madam came out a bit uneasy this time. There has a been a happening, one capable of reversing titles. ‘E done tey, Oga,’ Okon said, his lips pinched out in the characteristic way he spoke. ‘When exactly?’ The short man scratched his head. ‘ Erm…erm…Oga, e done tey o. It has really really tey.’ He resigned to a sigh and walked upstairs, Okon tagging along with his traveler’s bag. He drew back the curtain and met sudden raucousness. The speakers blared with Omawumi’s voice as she begged to be given bottom belle so that she would cool her heart. Stella, their live-in maid, was at the centre of the room, twisting this way and that in frenzy as she tried to move her huge self to the rhythm of the song. The AC was on but the sweat poured off her like one drenched in rain. The remote in her right hand towered above her head while her other hand held her wide skirt together as she hihi and hehe’d to the song. She only realized their presence when Oga turned the player off. She jolted. ‘Welcome, Oga.’ She raised her shirt to wipe sweat from her face. Oga could see the washed-out bra that held her bounteous bosoms in place. ‘Where is your Madam?’ ‘She went out, sir.’ ‘Without her car?’ ‘She said she need walking.’ ‘Need walking?’ ‘Yes, nee…need to walk.’ ‘Needed to walk.’ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘For whatever reason would she?’ ‘Oga?’ ‘Take the bag from Okon.’ ‘Ok, sir.’ As Okon transferred the bag to her, they exchanged expressions, the quick and silent facial communication that was common to servants. It looked like one rebuked the other while the one being rebuked did to mean she didn’t care. Cynthia returned an hour later. She was breathing heavily as she entered the sitting room. Richard lowered his paper and sat up on the couch. ‘Where have you been?’ ‘Went walking and I just ran up the stairs.’ ‘You are exercising at this time?’ She worked out a lot and it had given her that desirable trim body that any woman would kill for. ‘Not really. Dr. Hope said I shouldn’t be going heavy for now anyway. But I really can’t sacrifice all my efforts.’ ‘Dr. Hope? You went to the clinic?’ ‘Yes.’ That came out with a gasp. She flopped down on the couch, curled round him and kissed his cheek. ‘She said I’m three weeks gone.’ He was sure he has heard a statement like that before, in the movies maybe, but he struggled now to decipher what she meant. Cynthia’s face had lit up in glee. Her whole dentition showed in a large smile. It wasn’t often that she smiled like that. ‘Baby, what do you mean?’ he asked. She slapped his shoulder lightly. ‘Come on, I’m pregnant.’ He momentarily blanked out. His fingers on her thighs felt numb. But then he recovered. And slowly his mind settled and he understood what Cynthia’s pregnancy meant, that it wasn’t something to be scared of now. Not like Chidimma’s when he was 16. Now he is a man and can take responsibility. A picture of a cute baby formed in his mind, pink toothless gums showing in a jerky baby smile. A smile crept onto his face and soon the excitement spread over him like smoke in a room, shutting off all that were his earlier thoughts. He hugged her tight. ‘Baby, we gonne have a baby.’ He was smiling. Cynthia nodded promptly, holding him tightly back. ‘A baby, can you believe that!’ She kissed his shoulder and nodded again. From behind the separating wall of the dining room, Stella pitched a long hiss and entered the kitchen. She would not add salt or pepper or Maggi to whatever she was going to make that evening, whatever ingredient that’d make the food less tasty. **Continues Below** |
05/09/2015 16:37 |
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EPISODE 4 She started noticing the signs some days ago; the new change to her flow, a milky difference, slight and strange, the unusual tenderness of her bosoms and the new sensation at her Tip area. And there was the killing fatigue. She would barely get by an hour without feeling like dropping down on whatever soft, stretch her legs and sleep. Things were still normal enough with the changes though…till the onset of the morning sickness. That was when Onyiudo Ekemma, her mother, confirmed her suspicion and she reacted. She watched her that morning till the loud retching sounds stopped. She spat and took a cup of water from the tall metal drum. Her eyes were all teary as she drank a bit of water, gurgled and threw it out. She was on a repeat when she heard her mother’s voice. ‘Bia, Nwamma, come here!’ Her heart pounded as she dragged towards her. Onyiudo Ekemma stared at her with near disgust, like someone with an unsightly boil on her face. She touched her face, pressed down the skin area around her eyes and jerked her face to a face. She yelped, slamming her palms together. ‘It has finally happened! My enemies have tried me and gotten me!’ She examined her daughter’s face again. She clapped again. ‘Ewoo! This girl has finally done it! Hey! Finally she has brought shame to me!’ Her younger brother came out then. He asked their mother what the problem was but Onyiudo Ekemma shoved him aside and picked one of her rubber flip-flops. ‘Foolish girl! Tell me who is responsible!’ The slapping sounds of flexible plastic burst in the air, peppered with loud screams of pain. Onyiudo Ekemma was unrelenting. ‘Tell me now! Tell me the he-goat you opened your legs for! Tell me!’ Pa pa pa pa, went the slaps on her back, shoulder, buttocks, anywhere that seemed possible now. She held her firm with one hand so that running off was not an option. Finally she was able to and she ran deep down the small bush bordering their compound. She stood under the avocado tree and tried to breathe. Onyiudo Ekemma was unrelenting still. ‘Your bags are outside!’ Her screaming voice was followed by jingling sounds of materials thrown off carelessly. ‘Go to the man that has impregnated you! You can’t live with that shame in my house!’ Her voice lowered. ‘Mbanu, no! It can never happen. I did not bring shame to my mother so why would my own be different.’ ‘Mama, what is–‘ ‘Bia nwokem, run inside now before I descend on you!’ The young boy quietly went inside. Onyiude Ekemma cursed some more before she entered her room and dressed up for the market. She didn’t talk with her fellow traders at the market and even shouted at her customers. ‘Go! If you don’t want to buy go! Do you not know what is happening in the North right now? Dont you know that bokoharam have seized bama? Dont you know that shekau is still alive? Do you think we cultivate onions? Did I cultivate the onions myself?’ The people that knew her before, her sprightly attitude and refreshing perkiness, were amazed. |
05/09/2015 16:43 |
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