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My Aunty Anna Rose by Pascalblinks: 11:24am On May 10, 2017 |
MY AUNTY ANNA ROSE PART 1
.
I am nineteen. And yet to fu-Ck a girl. Yea,
you can begin screaming ‘WTF!’ all you want.
Well, that wouldn’t change a thing. Or would
it? Let’s get back to the real story now again,
shall we? Fine. So…I started seeing porn at
the age of thirteen. I was in High school then
and always asked my friends for their dirty
magazines. I loved women (…and still do of
course. Wonder how I shouldn’t when I ain’t
g@y) and was always attracted to more
matured ones (MILFs mostly). Even though I
craved to fu-Ck one day, I always never had
the courage to approach any girl who was
within my age bracket to ask her out. This
meant I would continue with endless
fantasies (…like Genevieve Nnaji giving me a
boob job. How silly though!), porn and
masturbation. By nineteen, I had developed
what was becoming one of the largest d!cks
for someone my age. My friends had always
talked about how large it was and even never
minded telling their girl friends. I was never
bothered too as I only found it pleasing and
largely a source of man pride. They claimed
the pecker had only gotten that big because I
started fu-Cking girls from a very tender age.
I knew better but I never told them how
wrong they were (they were duns after all).
Whenever we talked about sex, my
experiences with porn always looked to
substitute for me and over time, most of
them began asking me for a couple tips on
how they could please their girls. It was quite
hilarious! (…and you can see why I called
them d*ns. Haha)
The closest I had gotten to having sex was
with a visiting sister to a neighbor. As a
result of my area of training I somehow
became of help to the neighbor in question.
He always gave me little tasks to carry out
on his behalf of which he pays me for. I had
just gotten into my third year in the university
and I had a fair idea of what he always gave
me to do. It was on one of such assignments
that I got to meet Mary (now, not the mother
of that guy who died on the cross. This one
is quite not as innocent). She was far older
than myself. At least she was fifteen or
seventeen years ahead, and married. I had
gone to my neighbor’s place to carry out one
of the usual tasks who leaves me with only
to meet her at home. After introducing
myself, she allowed me in and soon we
became friends and got talking. Our
conversation was so vast that we soon
began talking about the consequences of
having lots of weight as human. It propped
up an argument as to which, men preferred
most. The fat or the slim. I said it was the
later of which she did not totally agree to and
I knew why. She was a bit plump but was
nonetheless married although without kids.
She tried presenting all her argue-facts and in
the attempt asked me if I knew what it was
like having a woman with lots of flesh in bed.
I answered like I had tried both of the two
sides before but that could not convince her.
Subsequently, she raised her flowing skirt
almost entirely up to her waist, revealing her
fleshy thighs. While she did so, she held onto
one of the thighs and asked me if I knew
what that succulent thigh meant to most
men. She tried emphasizing it by grabbing
onto the flesh there and bringing herself
closer to where I sat. All along I was smiling
but not aroused in anyway. And I still assume
she was equally not aroused in any way what
so ever. However, after she got as close as
she could manage, she urged me to feel the
flesh. Her skirt was still held to her hip by
one hand while the other grabbed the
underneath of the thigh in question. We both
were still joking and arguing about it at the
same time. I still had intentions of continuing
with the task for which I visited and all I
planned to do was settle the argument and
return to the work. When she repeated the
request, I laughed and told her she had too
much flesh and how I didn’t fancy it. To this,
she further asked me to feel her thighs and
that I never knew anything about plump
women. I responded by placing a hand on it,
telling her it made no difference on what I
felt and removed my hand. She rejected my
attempt and insisted I would do so again.
She even said I would have to try to grab the
thigh with both hands. I laughed and said it
was not necessary. She made a face and
said she never liked what I was doing. In
response, I succumbed and made to grab her
laps as suggested. However, mistakenly, as I
did so, I unintentionally dipped my right
fingers through the cut of her p@nties
thereby finding her crotch (and how I liked
the miracle!). She was partly damp there
which I felt was from sweat. But equally full
of curly hair. My other hand had held onto
the other side of her laps and was already
making a move to lift the enormous thing.
But with the right one right inside her
p@nties, everything paused. She did not utter
a word and even when I said I was sorry and
tried taking my hand away, she shut up her
thighs and caught my hands in between both
legs. I remained stuck. She pulled me
towards her and that brought my hands
straight to her wet p**sy opening. I only
made little additional effort and two finger
found their way into her yearning p**sy!
Unfortunately for her, we were only about to
get anything going when we suddenly heard a
knock on the door. This was followed by her
sister’s return. We had been alone all along.
My subsequent attempt to get this completed
was completely futile as I was told she left
the next day. Poor Danny! Really poor,
Danny!!
Now I only use that for my fantasies. I
always imagine myself completing the
process. Locating her p**sy with the same
fingers, fingering them and getting to pull off
her p@nties. This would be followed by either
my sU-Cking of her p**sy; which I see as my
most coveted desires; or giving her an
instant fu-Ck. Nonetheless, all this will keep
being fantasies and nothing more. Well, that
was about my closest attempt and as you
can see, if failed woefully. Now can we talk
about more important issues of life? Good.
I am the only son. And in a family of two
issues, it simply means I have just one sister.
Your daft head can’t just be telling you
otherwise! Cannot remember the last time
anyone had a transsexual for a sibling. At
least not in Nigeria. That aside anyway.
So…as I said, the other of my sibling is a girl.
A very pretty girl to say the least.
Unfortunately for everyone, this pretty girl
hardly stays home. She just graduated from
the university and got enlisted with a Runway
outfit (for those of you who have looked up
these last two words endlessly without
having a clue of what it means; simply think
of a super slim girl, on a super slim outfit, cat
walking down a ‘super slim’ alley. That
should do). She has always wanted to be a
model and how I was sure she fits in. She
has a body to die for. As for me, I will be
getting out of school as a fresh graduate by
the end of the current calendar year. I am
studying Physics in school. The same course
dad studied. Well…I am still some way from
being what he has become in this field. In
fact, he is currently a visiting professor at
Nottingham Trent University in the united
Kingdom and has been made a member of
many professional bodies. This was good for
the family but I seriously miss his parenting
although am aint complaining. I had not
chosen the course because of him or his
success like it is the case with most Nigerian
teenagers (Dad sells used bottles, so I wana
be a bottle dealer. Pheew!!). I love physics
and had long developed a big interest in it.
Now I will soon be getting out of school with
a degree in it. And trust me, I have never
sorted. At least not yet.
Now over to Mum. She is just great. I haven’t
said yours aint equally great. But I’m like;
mine is just great!! She is currently the
caretaker dad if you get what mean. She
works with a Finance Solutions company.
Studied Banking in a school in the U.S back
in the days and has maintained almost a
single job line for over two decades now. Her
coming from a wealthy family meant that she
would virtually achieve all she ever aspired
for except for having another male kid. That,
she could not get. Too bad. But I know I do
serve up in the absence of two. Like I said, I
aint asking for the assist of a transsexual
yet. She has been a wonderful mother and
hardly complains about my dad’s reoccurring
absence. Most times, when it appeared like
she was going to feel his absence, she would
look for her female friends to spend time
with. I pitied her at such times. I was not
getting enough p**sy; yea, true. But everyone
knows for sure that the case of someone who
has gotten so used to fu-Cking every day
really looks largely different. Now do not ask
me how I knew they always had it every day
when he was in. Wonder how many times
you would rather have it if you were dad or
mum. Spend the next half-hour finding an
answer.
Mum has a sister. Annarose by name. And
just like yourself, I have spent most part of
my miserable life thinking of what meaning
the name possibly had. yet, just like yourself
too, I haven’t figured out. I have never come
to understand what reasons grandpa and
grandma had for giving her such a name.
Those were meant to be two different name.
Type the names on MS word and you would
know how different. Unfortunately for me,
she still bears the name and she is by far,
my most favourite aunt from both dad and
mum’s sides. She is just sassy! A closest
definition of a bag of fun even though she is
currently in her early thirties. She has never
lost that impertinence we have known her for
and each time she visited, I never got tired of
her. She only just recently got married to
Uncle Dee Dee; another character of a guy
and they stay in Abuja. This has meant that I
only get to meet her fewer times a year.
However, Dee Dee currently completed a
business trip to France which meant
Annarose came close to suffering mum’s
kinda predicament. What gladdened my heart
though, was that, she made up her mind to
stay with us until her husband made it back.
Each time I remember this, I get so electrified!
It is a pity I have been telling you this story
without saying what day it is. Well, I am
kinda sorry about that. Today is a Monday
here. Do not know what date it is as you read
this story but, just try to think today is a
Monday. And yea, I also have not said who I
am. Well, I said a little about myself back
there but, let me kinda say more. I am Daniel
by name. I don’t think my surname is that
important. I don’t think. So I am Daniel. You
should call me Danny though. Just a way of
being benevolent and saving you the trauma
of stressfully calling out the real thing
continuously. Guess you usually end up very
aggravated whenever you opt for the later.
(Smiles). Well, I have just made up so feel
better. That said. So…I am an undergraduate
of Physics from the University of Nigeria. I
am Ibo although my mum is an Efik. I am tall.
Just a little shy of six feet. Handsome. Good-
looking. Although I don’t know how these
two are different. Rather athletic. Cannot
remember the last time I jogged around my
dad’s parking lot though, so I assume the
fitness is more like hereditary than developed.
I am light skinned but not fully fair. So kinda
in a fix on that one. I don’t have a girl. Now,
don’t ask me why. Just flow with the story.
After all, that is why you are reading it. You
can make the first move, if you are a girl
though. That aside. Thank you. I assume that
says it all for me. Or, am I forgetting
something? Oh! Okay, Just remembered; my
favourite colour is torques blue. How absurd
anyway. But that’s that. I also prefer girls
that are older than myself. Most especially
when they are in their late twenties or thirties.
Well, if you just stopped loving me because
of this last one, you can move one. Have
never complained about being disliked. No
hard feelings. . click on the link below to continue reading http://naijanoisemakers.com/2017/03/08/aunty-anna-rose-part-1/ |
Re: My Aunty Anna Rose by adontcare(f): 5:54am On May 11, 2017 |
I hope u did not enter ur aunt o ![]() ![]() |
Re: My Aunty Anna Rose by Pascalblinks: 8:59pm On Aug 29, 2017 |
UNDERNEATH THE HIJAB PART 1
.
I’m a big fan of women that are taboo.
They represent a conquest,
a challenge, an accomplishment that
you
can secretly smile to
yourself about.
There’s something exciting about pretty
girls who wear (long)
hijabs. They give you only a glimpse of
their beauty leaving your
mind to wonder what lies beneath the
surface. Sometimes beneath
the luster of the silky fabric, you can see
the outline of enormous
breasts. That drives me over the edge
and I
start to fantasize
about what it would be like to
experience
them in bed.
The first girlfriend I had during my
undergraduate days was one of
them. Nobody thought I would succeed
with her. Her name was
Zainab and she was a devout muslim. I
mean she didn’t shake
hands with boys, she never showed her
hair and she never missed
her fasting and prayers. We took some
classes together and
occasionally, we worked on some
assignments together. I was
friends with her for two years before I
actually let her know how I
felt about her. She was one person I
thought I would be last with
all the way to the end. She had grown
comfortable with me and we
had become inseparable on campus. We
never had any time alone
together because we both lived with our
parents at the time.
However I had an office as a student
since
I worked part time. One
Saturday, we found ourselves in the
office.
Alone. Together. For
the first time. It was like being 13 again.
I knew she had never been with a man
before or even had a
boyfriend. She had never been kissed or
touched or held before.
Completely innocent. We were sitting in
the
office working on a
programming assignment together.
When
we were done, we
starting talking about her innocence and
why she had chosen to
live the way she did. Before long I was
able
to convince her that
she wouldn’t burst into flames if I held
her
hand. It took some
patience on my part but eventually she
became comfortable
holding me. My hands moved to her
thighs
and with some
resistance, she starting asking what I
was
doing. I told her to relax
and I reassured her that I would be
gentle.
I caressed her thighs
gently, running my hands over the tights
she had beneath her outer
garment. She felt so good and
considering
that it was my first time
with her, I reveled in the moment. I
could
tell that she enjoyed it
even though she kept telling me to stop.
As I loosened up her
garment, I caught my first glimpse of
what
her breasts looked like.
They were big but not huge. A small D I
think. My hands wandered
from her thighs to cup them but she
was
having none of it. She
covered them across with her left hand
still
asking what I was
doing. And once again I had to reassure
her that if she didn’t like it
after I started, I would stop instantly.
She
resisted but eventually I
had my palm on her top, gently
caressing
one of her breasts. It
was an amazing feel. “Who’s teaching
you
all this?”, she asked as
I leaned in to kiss the little cleavage she
had exposed. I could
sense that her words were slurred
because
of what she was
experiencing. My hands wandered
through
the open part of her
low cut top to feel her actual Bosom.
Skin-
to-skin. I enjoyed
playing “find the Tip” with her Bosom as
I
searched frantically
for what seemed like forever inside her
bra.
I raised her top
eventually, enough to access her bra.
And
without taking it off
completely, I had both breasts out. They
were much lighter in
complexion than her face and the sight
of
them was entrancing.
Soon I was gently suckling them and I
could feel her hands on my
hair, caressing my head as I sucked,
licked
and kissed her
Tips. I tried in vain to stuff as much of
her
breasts as I could
into my mouth but they were too big.
“Where did you learn this?”,
she asked again. “You’re a bad boy.”
This
time, she had no
resistance left. I took my time to explore
her breasts with my
fingers and my tongue. They kept me
busy
for ages and as my
erection grew harder and harder, I could
feel pre-Pour leaking onto
my boxers. I didn’t want anything more.
I
wanted her to be
comfortable first before we went any
further. Soon she was
directing me. Lick the other one. Come
back to this one. In my
mind, conquering Rome wouldn’t have
been
as satisfying. I had
broken down the first barrier. And they
said
I wouldn’t succeed. I
wish they could see me now. . click on the link below to continue reading http://www.naijanoisemakers.com/2017/05/18/underneath-hijab-part-1/ |
Re: My Aunty Anna Rose by Pascalblinks: 2:11pm On Sep 01, 2017 |
THE FIRST DAY I TOAST A GIRL PART 1
. I wz drinking with my guy called ojoto,we re gisting abt so many things and we re laughing like mad people in the market square,soon one pretty damsel pass infront of us and i wz lost in her hot,beautiful and sexy body.i started moping at her like a morron.i wz tempted to talk to her but i dnt knw how to approach her in the first place. Ojoto notice my mood… OJOTO:hey igwe! Are u okay? ME:*i regain myself immediately* OJOTO:na dat babe wey pass us now,na im make u got lost abi na wat? ME:my guy i don dey fall for her but i no get the liver to talk to her oooo.s–t!my guy help me now.. OJOTO:wat do u want me to do? ME:code her for me. OJOTO:again! Guy i no fit do am.u don mature enough to toast babe naw..at dis ur age,u no sabi how to toast babe….shame on u! ME:u be my padi naw abeg,do am for me. OJOTO:wetin i go do na to call am for u but i wouldnt toast her for u oooo! ME:guy u want to disgrace me? U knw say i never try am for my life.as u say so,no problem,call am for me naw*ojoto left.my mind started beating like MTN transformer.i wz lost in thought abt wat to tell her.a kind of sweat dat wz guishing out of my body can be use to make tea…my blood is very hot in dat minute.all my body wz just vibrating*wat will i do if dis girl finally land here?hw will i convince her?hw wil i go abt it*my brain wz just shaking as if they are frying pop- corn on my head*gush! God plz help me ooooo……………. . click on the link below to continue reading http://naijanoisemakers.com/2016/11/10/first-day-toast-girl-part-1/ |
Re: My Aunty Anna Rose by Pascalblinks: 2:58pm On Sep 07, 2017 |
HOW I CHERISHED MY SISTER PART 1
.
IF YOU WANT TO THREAD THE PATH
OF REVENGE, YOU MUST DIG TWO
GRAVES – Some wise guy or something,
I’m not good with their names I just take
their words to mind.
A professional “do it all” consultant.
From finding missing persons or object
to high profile assassination; I’m the guy
to call. Been in the business for a while,
so on my worst days I’m am considered
an experienced professional and on my
best days I am a bleeding expert.
My name is Kunle Smith and as I lie
down here in a pool of my own blood
waiting for death’s cold embrace, I
cannot help but ask the question : HOW
THE Bleep DID IT COME TO THIS.
To answer my question I thought back
to when it all started to go wrong… The
very beginning : Apologies in advance
for the gritty nature of what I am about
to tell you. Some of us had it rough in
the origin department…
It’s a Cinderella story really, I was the
unplanned fifth of five boys left to fend
for myself after my mom died giving
birth to number six, the only girl, Vera.
The only good thing I had, brothers had
all gone off and wound up dead or in jail
where they wound up dead anyway and
my father buries himself deep in liquor
ever since my mum died, hardly gives us
the time of day. “I’m hungry!” Vera would
yell when she couldn’t hold it in
anymore. My father would throw an
empty bottle at her as he growled his
usual response “be glad I give you a
pilow to sleep and a roof over your head,
you want something to eat, work it out
for yourself.” crying she would beg to go
out with me and I would take her. She
was special, did all I could to protect her,
but really she was the one always taking
care of me. Because when she started to
put on her lonely lost child act in the
center of a town the attention of all the
bleeding hearts in the town focuses on
her and while they were busy trying to
comfort her, I would slowly creep behind
them, help myself to all the fancibles and
valuables in their pockets and be gone
before they realise it. We were happy
until one faithful day…. We had a great
run, plenty of loose wallets in heaping
pile, we were planning on how to go
about our spending. “Let’s get ice
cream” Vera was saying, when they
showed up. About six guys none of them
was over twenty by the looks of them
but they were all bigger than me. ‘good
idea little Dam’ said one of them, “after
that we can go to Freddie’s and get us
each a girl for the night” added the one
who struck me as the leader. With anger
I stepped in front of them protectively
standing over Vera and our money and
said “stand back, our hard work, our
money” the leader replied “but it’s on our
turf so that makes it our money you are
either going to hand it over or get
bloodied, you and your pretty little Dam
sister, your choice” he laughed. ” Stay
away from us” I warned. He came
forward eerily looming over, he bent low
his face inches from mine and with a
suffocating foul breath said “Who’s
gonna make me” and all of a sudden
they descended on me with punches,
sticks, and wait was that a hammer? Oh
OK it was a big fist, felt like a hammer
though. It was hell I have never
experienced such physical pain in my life
before. With spared glance I saw Vera
throwing rocks at them screaming “leave
my brother alone” I wanted to scream,
tell her to run but my voice wasn’t
working. Then one of Them walked over
to her and tried to grab her but she
wouldn’t let him. She was squirming
under his loose grip I was screaming
“vera no, leave her alone!” forcefully
Vera managed to break herself free from
her attacker. she had used her legs to
push as hard as she could against the
guy, it’s resulting force propelled her
forward right into the main road. And
then I HEARD: PAAAAAAANM
PAAAAAAANM, it was getting dark so no
one really saw it coming, no one heard it
blew it’s trumpet, not until it was too
late. VERAAAAAA! I screamed with all
my strength. It was a freaking horror
show me on my knees unable to move,
couldn’t stand, couldn’t run, Vera was
screaming as the truck hit and then ran
over her, I was helpless wishing for it all
to stop but it didn’t, almost immediately
after everything was quiet. Our attackers
fled, the driver fled too he had been
driving Without headlights that’s why I
had not seen him in time. The truck had
crushed her thoroughly scattering Vera’s
body parts all over the road. With an
overwhelming, an immeasurable and an
unimaginable grief in my heart, a
realisation came to me: this world is a
cruel world, only the wicked thrive. And
vera was an angel the world was not
meant for her let her go back to heaven
that’s were she belongs with angels like
her. “goodbye Vera watch over me, they
didn’t kill you but they are the reason
you are dead and thats the same thing
to me, watch as I bring down hell upon
those that brought you this gruesome
fate”…. I vowed.
……After that horrible incident, to become
stronger, I joined gangs, pushed drugs,
abused drugs, engage in Street fights,
gang wars, pimped girls over the years,
A bloody waste of time if you ask me.
For none of it made me strong the way I
wanted to be. It was when I got arrested
and was sent to prison, that I found the
kind of strength I was looking for.
Warmed my way to the hearts of the
inmates quickly enough. it was after I
told my story and expressed my
determination for revenge that one of the
prison bosses took me in, thought me
everything I need to know. Trained me in
combat and gun battle, thought me the
best revenge path to take. After serving
four years of prison time I was released
three years ahead of schedule for good
conduct, I wasted no time in plotting my
revenge course, using the connection
Don piccolo (my prison boss) gave me,
finding my first target wasn’t hard: The
Driver. I traced him to his home town,
where he was a mechanic. Immediately I
saw him, eight years of anger welled up
inside of me. I walked up to him and
asked “do you know me”. He gave me a
once over look and said “no can I help
you with anything?” “you don’t
remember me” I asked again. He
stopped what he was doing and looked
at me then asked “Who are you”. “Do
you know vera?” I answered his question
with mine. “No and I would like you to
leave my property, I am not comfortable
with you on it”, he replied as he looked
up into my eyes and took a step back.
Guessing he must have seen it, the
murderous intent in my eyes. Before he
could speak I asked him “do you
remember the little girl you crushed to
pieces eight years ago with that truck”
pointing to the last truck at the roll of
vehicles on the left. His eyes widened as
he remembered, he raised his left hand
that held a huge metal spanner and tried
to hit me with it but I was quick, I
stepped back thrusting forward I jabbed
him on the jaw, he staggered back.
seeing that he couldn’t fight me he ran
back so fast inside his shop and locked
the wooden gates, I could hear his
footsteps retreating deeper inside.
something shiny caught my eyes. The
fool had left the key to the truck he was
repairing on the ground I picked it up
and climed in, then started it, and drove
it straight through the gate, as the gate
shattered he came into view, his back
against the wall, his chest heaving so
high I thought his heart was gonna bust
out, his eyes as wide as they could go.
With a tinge of satisfaction and a small
smile on my lips because I liked the fear
that resonated from him, it was the
same fear that vera felt before dying, I
drove the vehicle straight at him
crushing him against the wall behind
him, I came out of the truck, went out to
pick surrounding flowers. Wasn’t really
comfortable with it, I didn’t want to leave
any trail for the police to track, but I
believed it was the right thing to do. The
Don had said that It’s meant to be like a
sense of knowing for Vera that her killers
hadn’t gone unpunished. plus by the
time the police caught up, i would have
been done with my vengeance mission,
dissappeard and started a new life.
Placing the flowers on the dead driver I
muttered ‘for Vera’. . click on the link below to continue reading www.naijanoisemakers.com/2017/08/14/cherished-sister-part-1/ |
Re: My Aunty Anna Rose by BlinksBlinkd: 7:12am On Sep 18, 2017 |
wow |
Re: My Aunty Anna Rose by BlinksBlinkd: 3:22pm On Sep 20, 2017 |
alright na |
Re: My Aunty Anna Rose by BlinksBlinkd: 7:04pm On Sep 24, 2017 |
interesting |
Re: My Aunty Anna Rose by blinksblinkz: 9:34pm On Mar 12, 2018 |
wow |
Re: My Aunty Anna Rose by blinksblinkz: 12:11pm On Mar 13, 2018 |
z |
Re: My Aunty Anna Rose by blinksblinkz: 7:34pm On Mar 20, 2018 |
cg |
Re: My Aunty Anna Rose by blinksblinkz: 4:16pm On Mar 28, 2018 |
de |
Re: My Aunty Anna Rose by BlinksBlinkd: 8:20pm On Apr 13, 2018 |
wow |
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