How strong is the bond of blood that ties us together down the generations?
A white artic fox. A raven. A Scottish Castle.
What links these three things together?

Jeremy, the titled, suave, successful entrepreneur, still carries the scars of abandonment and
rejection from his birth mother. His relationships with women have been toxic and brief.

The wedding of his best friend Remi Olapade gives him the once in a lifetime opportunity to visit Nigeria
and the ancient sacred town of Ile-Ife.
His visit takes on an unexpected twist when he meets Ebony, who invites him to The Lekki Club and sets him on a
journey of sexual discovery that has nothing to do with his role of 'head groomsman' at the wedding.
A two week sexual encounter that will change his life forever.

But Jeremy's trip to Nigeria is not all what it seems, he is on a clandestine mission,
using the wedding as a cover to get the information he needs.
As he tries to unravel the myth and facts behind his family's curse.
He finds some answers in the ancient town of Ile-Ife where he is confronted with the legend of the White Fox.

Ile-Ife c.1720.
The slap on his cheek, stinging his skin into protest, was the final straw. With pain radiating from his cheek, Prince Ademuyiwa walked out of his brother’s room, fists clenched smack-bang in the middle of a heated argument.
“Come back here right now, Ademuyiwa! How dare you walk out on me while I am still talking to you?” His brother’s eyes bulged in anger. “Don’t you know who I am?” he bellowed.
I do. He didn’t look back. The words dimming as he walked out of the room and the palace. He needed to clear his head. Breathing shallow hurried breaths, hands still clenched at his side, Ademuyiwa seethed with anger and resentment.
At 6’4, the dark, well built, and handsome Prince cut a dashing figure in Ile-Ife, making the hearts and clits of the young ladies in the kingdom, flutter, and throb with excitement any time his dark brown, soulful eyes held their gaze. The muscle definition on his arms and chest bore testament to a man who worked hard. Contrasting starkly to the soft potbellied body of his older brother, who called upon his servants for everything.
As he walked under the sunlight, the muscles on his shirtless torso gleamed, smooth and shimmery–like ebony wood, his favorite medium for carving. Beautiful, haunting, wooden carvings and sculptures that had given birth to his nickname ‘The Carpenter Prince’ across the continent of Africa. Some so lifelike and real they scared people who stared at them.
The palace displayed his carvings alongside other mysterious sculptures, legend had it they had been chiseled by the gods of the Yoruba people. Visitors gazed upon them in awe, willing to trade anything of value in exchange for one of them. But the king always rebuffed their overtures, telling whoever would listen that the prince’s talent came from the gods themselves. Most people would not and could not dispute that fact.
Calming down, Ademuyiwa took a deep breath and raked his fingers through his hair as he stood outside the palace, staring east. The sun that afternoon was unrelenting in its intensity, deepening the hue of his skin even further. Intensifying the darkening his skin underwent during the hot season, earning him another nickname - Duduyemi.
His eyes deepened with melancholy as he battled with the resolve and courage needed to deliver his news to his father, the King - the Ooni of Ile-Ife.
He was leaving the kingdom and going to the white man’s land to seek his fortune. Trading ancient Yoruba artefacts and his wooden carvings with them and bringing back goods that would be useful and culturally beneficial to the kingdom. If the white man had found them at Ile-Ife, that meant he, Ademuyiwa could find other people in different lands around the world and trade with them. In his mind, the opportunities were endless.
Having made the momentous decision calmed and soothed him - a great weight lifted off his shoulders. The enormity of what he was about to embark on finally dawned on him as he contemplated his father’s reaction to his outlandish plans.
Deep in thought, he walked over to his workshop and picked up his current carving, a female figurine. The sharp blade glittered in the sunlight as he gouged grooves into the gleaming soft wood, releasing the heady smell of fresh mahogany into the air.
Putting the knife down, he wiped the sweat off his face, then picked up a stiff cloth, letting his mind wander as he polished, wishing he was erasing the smirk off his brother’s face instead.
The need for him to get away from the kingdom was growing stronger by the day. Competing with his brother was exhausting; added to that, he was frustrated with his stepmother’s scheming ways. His half-brother in a bid to show him who was boss and who mattered in the household, had laid claim to the woman he was meant to marry - a distant cousin, a beautiful, sexy, voluptuous girl from one of the other royal ruling houses of Ile-Ife. Imagining his brother’s bumbling hands on her beautiful brown skin filled him with rage.
It was times like this that he missed his mother, Olori Adeyemisi, the first wife and only love of his father. But as fate would have it, his mother didn’t get pregnant soon enough after the marriage, in the eyes of the palace busy bodies. They persuaded the king to take another wife as the elders constantly reminded him - he needed to produce an heir imminently. The new wife got pregnant within weeks of her arrival at the palace and gave birth to the first son, the crown prince. Ironically, his mother gave birth to him four months later, but the damage was done.
Growing up he’d been subjected to listening to his half-brother remind him day-in, day-out that Ademuyiwa would forever be the second prince, the spare, seen but never heard. Ramming it down his face on every occasion that he was the favored son and the crown prince of the ancient kingdom.
The years went by and his mother had another son, his brother Aderemi, but she died after battling a brief mysterious illness, when Aderemi was ten. Her death, a welcome release from the agonizing pain. It had broken his heart that he’d been unable to slay the dragon of malaise consuming her.
The palace became unbearable when his father took on another wife, knocking his stepmother off the important pedestal she thought she solely inhabited. The new wife, witty, fiery, and beautiful enchanted the king and dominated his spare time.
Wanting to see the world had long been a dream Ademuyiwa had secretly harbored, as the years rolled by, the dreams became more frequent and vivid.
The arrival of the white missionaries to his hometown helped renew his fervor to travel and explore once he mastered their languages.
He found the white man fascinating; the missionaries who had ventured their way opened his eyes to a world beyond his town. Learning to read and write their languages came to him easily and naturally, much to their surprise.
With Ademuyiwa becoming the go-to person, when the missionaries wanted to speak to the locals or his father the king, and vice versa. With their help, his enunciation improved, surprising them even further. It was obvious his intelligence and skills amazed and intrigued them. Their attitude irritated him; the white man seemed oblivious to the fact that the Yoruba people, language, and culture had existed long before the arrival of the missionaries.
Armed with these new and specialist skills helped deepen Ademuyiwa’s resolve to go traveling. He would go to their land, come back and be the warrior prince his lazy older by four months brother would never be. His younger brother Aderemi who looked up to him didn’t want him to leave. It hurt to see the sadness in his eyes, but he promised him he would return to the kingdom and look after him. Assuring him his absence was temporary.
Two days later, after the show down with his brother, he went to see his father. Having timed his arrival to coincide with his father’s evening meal. Which he ate alone while communing with the spirits of his ancestors, he wouldn’t be surprised if they ate together. “Good evening, Kabiyesi.”
“Ademuyiwa, my son, what brings you here? Have you eaten?” Pointing to the food - pounded yam accompanied with a steaming bowl of egusi and goat meat.
His stomach rumbled as the savory aroma of the egusi made with palm oil played havoc on his senses. His mouth watered and he licked his lips as he imagined the different types of meat in the bowl. When alone he saw a softer side to his father, most people didn’t know existed.
“I am fine, Kabiyesi. I have eaten.” Not wanting to waste time with pleasantries in case he lost his nerve. “Baba mi, I have an important matter to discuss with you.”
His father was an intimidating man in all senses of the word, having been a fearsome warrior in his youth. The stories of his bravery were legendary in and out of the kingdom. In addition, as the Ooni of Ile-Ife, he was not a man, but a god, and most people didn’t want to experience the ire of such an entity.
“I am traveling to the white man’s land. I want to trade my carvings with them and bring back items I think will be beneficial to the city. Opening up a profitable and long-term trade route between the two nations.” He paused to gauge his father’s reaction. “I am leaving with the white missionaries in three days.”
The king’s hand paused midway to his mouth. “Ademuyiwa, what nonsense is this? Have you been drinking palm wine? You want to go where?” He laughed. “Do you know what you are talking about?”
He grimaced and nodded.
“You want to go to the white man’s land? Did you put something in your mouth, to come and talk to me?” Taking a sip of water from a carved wooden mug. “You do know who you’re talking to, don’t you?”
I do. Gazing at the bowl of egusi, he couldn’t meet his father’s eyes.
The king shook his head. “Ehn, look at this boy. Are you asking me Ademuyiwa or are you telling me? Whichever one it is, the answer is no.” Finally putting the morsel of pounded yam in his mouth. He picked a piece of meat from his bowl. “If you are restless, then it’s time for you to get married. Sex and a new bride should kill any wanderlust you have.” Staring at his bare torso and putting the meat in his mouth. “There are lots of girls in the kingdom ready to be your concubine even after you get married.”
“Kabiyesi, you are aware my brother is going to marry the girl the elders had decided for me.” Cracking his knuckles, he took a deep breath, looking for the strength and courage to continue.
“He is your older brother; he has every right to take and marry her if he wants to. There are other girls in the kingdom, you can marry.” Putting another morsel of food in his mouth. “You don’t even have to stick to one, take two, and all this nonsense you’re talking about will stop.”
Ademuyiwa clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. “Baba mi, please give me your blessing and I will go happy in peace, knowing I have honored you. Or you don’t give me your blessing and I will still go.”
His father stilled, then washed his fingers in a bowl and stared at his son in consternation.
“You will not browbeat me into settling for a boring and unfulfilling life. I am sick and tired of the politics and backstabbing of the palace. I am leaving, father. I’m putting you on notice. Good night.” With that, he walked out of his chambers. Hoping and praying to see the dawn of the new day.
His father’s ire was legendary.

Welcome back Lleigh
Sweet popcorn for you.

Adesina12:
Welcome back Lleigh
Sweet popcorn for you.

I have missed the popcorn

Lleigh:


I have missed the popcorn

Abi you missed me?�

####

The day of his departure finally arrived; the missionaries had said their goodbyes to the king the day before.
Early that morning, his father, through his trusted messenger, summoned Ademuyiwa to his chambers. Not knowing what to expect, he entered with fear and trepidation.
His father was sitting on his throne, his hands on two etched male carvings, fashioned into the armrests of the throne. The faces looked real, benevolent, and full of awareness in the dim light of dawn. They were alone.
Adding a mysterious backdrop to the eerie silence in the room were two unusual bags on top of carved wooden storage boxes.
His father’s eyes were bright. “Come in, my son. Come and sit next to me.” His voice catching and soft, unlike his deep, cold, authoritarian baritone.

Shocked, Ademuyiwa walked over, hesitant, and sat near his feet.

“Omo ti ekun babi ekun ni jo.” Staring at his staff, deep in thought. He nodded. “You are even more daring than I was at your age, and I was a fearsome warrior. The true son of a warrior will always take after his father. I shouldn’t be surprised.”
This was a side to his father he’d never seen before.

“I don’t want you to leave my son, but you have decided to, and I must respect your brave decision. I am so proud of you, my son. You are the true son of a warrior, omo oduduwa.”

Ademuyiwa blinked and his mouth opened - this wasn’t the response he was expecting.
“The gods have spoken. Who am I to question their logic and wisdom?” His father stared at him and picked up the first bag. “Look after everything in this bag, Ademuyiwa. You must not lose it. Guard it with your life. Whoever holds it will find their way back home here to the palace and will protect them from…” His voice cracked.

Heart pounding, Ademuyiwa took the bag off his father.

His father breathed deeply and paused as he composed himself before giving him the second bag. “Ademuyiwa, use these items to trade with the white man, do not sell them cheap. They are priceless and are of incredible value to the Yoruba people, the Gods carved them. Only sell them if you have to and make sure they don’t know how desperate you are when you do. And if you can, make sure you buy them back.” A weak smile appeared on his face as he tried to crack a joke. “They are precious to the Yoruba people; rumored to have been carved by the gods themselves.”
The hairs on the back of his neck raised as a white mist swirled slowly in the dark corner of his father’s chambers. Soft voices called out to him as he rubbed the goose bumps on his arms before he turned his attention back to his father.

“They have made you a caretaker - they’re tasking you with safeguarding the items in these boxes. Guard them with your life and bring them back.”
Who were they?

The carvings on the throne blinked and subtly moved their heads towards the mist. Ademuyiwa’s eyes bulged out of his sockets in fright.
“Your talent for carving will take you far, my son. People all over the world will come to know who you are, and you will be feted by influential and famous people across the oceans.” He paused with his hand on his staff. “ranti omo to je Ademuyiwa. Remember whose son you are, that of the Ooni of Ile-Ife. Never ever forget, you are a Prince from the ancient town of Ile-Ife, the seat of civilization. A direct descendant of Oduduwa. Omo mi, Ademuyiwa, you are the ambassador of all the Yoruba people to the white man’s land. Be a great one o. Always do your best to honor your father’s name. I hope to see you again, my son,” his father said with sadness in his eyes.

####

The Ooni, having realized that his favorite son, the Carpenter Prince, was leaving with or without his blessing, had consulted the palace oracle. Armed with its answers, he decided not to share the outcome with his son. However, he made one compromise; he asked the elders to do special protection rituals, for the long and arduous journey Ademuyiwa would undertake to the white man’s land. Thankfully, his son didn’t refuse; he understood the importance of such ancient Yoruba rituals.

This was not a journey to the other surrounding towns or villages, this was different. A trip no one in the town had ever embarked upon.
Ooni Adewale looked at his beloved son, tears pooled in his eyes, he blinked to keep them at bay. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a deep breath and tried to appear stoic. As the Ooni of Ile-Ife he couldn’t be seen crying; his title was not that of a mere mortal, but a god. God’s did not cry. Even as the face of his one and only love stared back at him, talking to him through their first son, a god will not cry.
Oh, how he missed Adeyemisi’s presence. His first and only love. The passion he had felt for her had been all consuming and unmatched. Images of him laying his head on her lap appeared while she played with his hair, something he had never done nor would do with any of his other wives. Even the newest one who thought she had him under her spell.

The other wives who he had married due to the obligation of duty and tradition were not passionate unions in the same vein of Adeyemisi. Her place would forever be protected in his heart. The city had needed him to produce a prince, and the gods in their wisdom had decided the crown prince would not be her gift to bear.

His heart had broken into tiny pieces when she had died unexpectedly because of a mysterious pain in her stomach and debilitating rounds of inexplicable pain in her joints. They had tried everything, but it had all been futile.
He wished he had spent more time with her when she was alive. Now her first child was going to leave him as well as another piece of his heart broke into tiny pieces.

The palace oracle had not minced its words delivering the message of the gods to the king - if Prince Ademuyiwa left the kingdom, the king would never see his son again.

However, fate had pronounced the prince had a prophecy to fulfill for the town beyond the city walls.
The sighting of a white fox in the city of Ile-Ife would herald the Prince’s imminent return. The message continued - the king and the palace elders needed to ensure each successive king knew the importance of this sighting. His return would bring fame, fortune; pomp and prosperity as never experienced before or after to the kingdom.

It would be the talk of Ile-Ife for generations. It would be the talk of the world.

The mention of the fox had troubled the king - they were cunning, wild, and dangerous creatures. But he had never seen a white one before. Well, he had never seen a white man before and they had turned up, so the existence of white foxes was a distinct possibility.
Ensuring he adhered to the oracle’s message, the Ooni made a decree. Whenever a white fox is sighted in the kingdom - the palace has to be notified immediately.

He wrote the decree cum prophecy in the sacred book of the palace, to be passed down to the next king just as the book had been passed to him.

Adesina12:

Abi you missed me?�

I am surprised you still remember me self.

I miss the pop corn o.

Lleigh:


I am surprised you still remember me self.

I miss the pop corn o.

Send me your digit let’s hookup on WhatsApp or telegram
Sweet popcorn for you dear

see them, see them, unable wan start una lovy dovy abi, ah dey here too,

in fact make ah park here gbam

Lleigh:

I am surprised you still remember me self.
I miss the pop corn o.

Is like you don forget this thread, go from Ade dey chop popcorn abi

come and sama us update, before ah report you to sai Baba

do4luv14:



Is like you don forget this thread, go from Ade dey chop popcorn abi


come and sama us update, before ah report you to sai Baba

I know fit forget you nau....

He hasn't provided the popcorn....

Chapter 1,

“Oh, baby, you’re so tight,” he groaned.
Temilade’s mind wandered as the guy on top of her thrust his way to his orgasm. The velocity and method of his thrusts was nothing to write home about. If they were, her mind would be occupied with what was happening. pre-intimacy wasn’t in his repertoire, and she hadn’t been invited to the solo orgasm party he was attending.
Wanting to enjoy the occasion, she tried to roll him over a few times and take charge, but no, he wasn’t having it as he kept her down, pulling her feet apart.
“Is this how you want it, baby?” Trying hard and failing to impart his dominance over her.
No, it’s not. Rough play was ok in her world, only if she was the one doing it. Sexual submission to a man or woman wasn’t her thing.
“Oh baby, you’re so good.” Panting as he grabbed her boobs as if they were handles to stop him from falling off a roller coaster ride.
But you’re not.
Ok, so he had a reasonably sized dick, but he didn’t know how to use the bloody thing. Thrusting in and out of her as if making pounded yam while trying to shift her womb was not enjoyable sex for her.
If she had her whip, she would have whipped him into shape and submission for such a lousy performance. Luckily for him and his backside, she wasn’t interested in expending such energy, and she wasn’t in her playroom, either.
This was the vanilla world; an orgasm with him was not on the cards, and he wasn’t getting a call back. Not that he would anyway; she rode a dick once and moved on. Life was too short to waste energy on a bad Bleep, which produced zero orgasms.
Femi, the guy currently fucking himself as he certainly was not fucking her, had been all mouth and now less than sixty seconds in, was about to cum.
Cum?
What kind of fuckery was that?
Didn’t men know about orgasm control? If she had her way, it would be taught as part of sex education for the over 25’s for both men and women.
What was the point of going for a young Bleep boy who could not Bleep and last long in bed?
She sighed.
He must have noticed her apathy as he tried to engage her, but it was too late as he erupted into his condom, his work complete.
Closing her eyes, she waited for him to recover from his solo effort and smiled. Getting up, she headed to the bathroom - to clean up and leave. She was not riding this dick again.

The Queen of erotic write up is back
Are we going to branch at Lekki Club?
Meanwhile, who is Temilade and who is Femi Curchill
(the one seconds man)?
Waiting impatiently for the update
Sweet popcorn for you my sweetie kisses
Someone is jealous of us here.
Please ebawa perosoko oooo
Call your people to come and read sweet romantic erotic and action write up
Sweet popcorn for una

Lleigh:

I know fit forget you nau....
He hasn't provided the popcorn....

naim make you wan go on strike, wey you never update since,

BTW were that Ade sef

Adesina12:
The Queen of erotic write up is back
Are we going to branch at Lekki Club?
Meanwhile, who is Temilade and who is Femi Curchill
(the one seconds man)?
Waiting impatiently for the update
Sweet popcorn for you my sweetie kisses
Someone is jealous of us here.
Please ebawa perosoko oooo
Call your people to come and read sweet romantic erotic and action write up
Sweet popcorn for una

Adeshina, we do branch at the Lekki Club... But you have to have enough popcorn for the ride 0

do4luv14:




naim make you wan go on strike, wey you never update since,


BTW were that Ade sef

Make you no vex o. I beg...

Lleigh:


Make you no vex o. I beg...

Ah no dey vex, but I don't understand oooo, from Prince Ademuyiwa to Femi the one minutes guy,

ayam not understanding oooo

I have landed here � who is sharing the pop corn? Bring mine with chilled coke.

do4luv14:




Ah no dey vex, but I don't understand oooo, from Prince Ademuyiwa to Femi the one minutes guy,

ayam not understanding oooo

Patience is a virtue... it will all be revealed..

Hello all. Seems this thread is interesting

kayobeyi:
Hello all. Seems this thread is interesting

Good morning

Roll Call
The food is ready with sweet popcorn and cold Hennesy on top
ann2012
Housing, Toeze, Odewaleadesoye, knowhowk, Stargurl20, EvaJael, logon599, Khriztarl, princessboy12, damselposh, Ak86, ukaface, Dammykrone, BiadeFolar, Icebreeze, ironkurtain, ladySuperb, Benjom(m), Centino, ghostwritter, Rakiababy, moyarhtohbadt, favch, SheWrites, Darkcrisp, dealslip, TheBlessedMAN, sleeqiam, importexpert, purityval, queenitee, rachealfst, Switup, onihaxy, Creeza, hamzatseyi, BiafranBushBoy, bibijay123, Nitefury, fiyah

Rosemary33:
I have landed here � who is sharing the pop corn? Bring mine with chilled coke.

Welcome Rpsemary
The author of THE SOLDIER THAT LOVES ME
I love that story and I have since looking for a way of having a FAT GF for myself

Odewaleadesoye:

The green man just landed.
Thanks for the mention. @Adesina12
It's been a while @Lleigh
Guess you're back with back to back stories this time.
Accept my little sweet popcorn.

Received with thanks

Chapter 2

Jeremy sucked in air at the sudden, sharp shooting pain in his wrist as he grappled with the tape he was using to measure the circumference of his head. He had forgotten to take his pills that morning.

“Jeremy, you need to make it looser on your forehead.” The voice and face of his childhood friend was admonishing him over Skype from Lagos. “Turn slightly, let me see you. Hmm, let it out an inch. That’s better; we don’t want you looking like a pale wooden mannequin, my friend.”

Jeremy laughed, loosening the tape round his forehead. “Is this good enough?” he asked, writing the numbers into the chat box on the screen for Remi to pass on to the fashion designer in Lagos, Nigeria.

Remi’s head peered in closer on the screen. “Move your head to the left, mate, hmm, not bad. Ok, I think we have it, I will ask the tailor to add a bit of leeway for the caps. You know, just in case your head swells when all those pretty, sexy, ladies swoon all over you in Lagos, especially now that you are so tanned.” Laughing at his joke. “Or when you give them that lost boy look of yours. I can’t wait for you to arrive; we are going to paint Lekki red. Saying that you and the rest of the guys can. I have to be a good boy or else…” Smiling into the screen.

“You better be… Or else.”

“A nice hot Lekki romance will help you unwind from your ever so demanding role of head groomsman. A lot can happen in the space of two weeks.” Winking at him. “Let your hair down, loosen your belt and forget about everything.” He paused, a serious look on his face. “How are things with your family, any changes?

He shrugged, that never changed.

“How’s things with you and Amanda? Is she coming?”

He and slim, blond, blue eyed Amanda had been seeing each other for three months. But she had dumped him via text two weeks ago. Her complaints - he was emotionally retarded and crap in bed. It stung. But he would not make that confession to playboy Remi.
Jeremy shook his head. “Remi, you’re impossible. Amanda and I are no more.”

“Sorry to hear that, her loss. More reason for a two-week romance in Lagos, to help you get Amanda out of your system.”

“If you were sitting here, I would throw this tape measure at you. How can anyone have a full-blown romance in two weeks?”

Remi smiled. “Two weeks is a long time, my friend. I’ve had a full-blown romance, the ‘I love you’ and break up in two weeks, that’s what we players do.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Are you happy with the other measurements, I will leave it to you to decide on the styles? Just make this tiny white boy look like a big man, naija style o.”

“No problem, big man Jez, I also have a big favor to ask of you when you arrive, but I will update you about that before you leave London. Right, I must go Ibukun needs to eat, bye.”

Jeremy pressed end, stood up and walked to the window at the end of his vast office and looked down onto the streets of Shoreditch. The sun was shining, and for once the skies were pristine blue. London was in the middle of a record-breaking heat wave. He could testify to that - his skin’s hue had changed. The presence of the sun saw people cheerily going about their business. Ladies in frilly, floaty dresses, the welcome unexpected gusts of wind showcasing their legs and, sometimes, more. Men brave enough were in long shorts. The dress code was not unusual as the area his office was in was full of the creative types. Suits stood out in this area, irrespective of the sun or the weather.
Shoreditch in East London had transformed significantly and was now known as the silicon roundabout of the UK. Attracting the top and upcoming tech firms into its hippy surroundings. The older, historic City of London was no longer a cool place to be for the young and upcoming startups. That was for the old, stuffy folk and firms, the newbie incomers retorted.

The influx of the new online tech firms helped create a renaissance for an area of London previously known for drugs, gangs, violence, and poverty. It was now home to some of the trendiest and expensive clubs, pubs, bars, coffee shops, eateries and companies in the UK.
His business fit in effortlessly a security consulting firm. NEVAR Consulting was one of the top security companies in the country, working with private and government organizations across the world. The company also dealt with finding things human or otherwise, hence why his associates called him ‘The Locator.’

There was always a trail, and they would find it. Hacking was also a key skill in his line of business, but he chose not to, unless it was absolutely necessary. The stuff he and Remi got up to during their university days had been legendary; it was a miracle they had never been caught.
Turning around, he bent down and rubbed his knee, lost in thought and excitement as he walked back to his desk, having just finished a video call with his childhood friend Remi Olapade and his mum in Lagos.

The call had been to get his body measurements for the aso ebi to be used at Remi’s upcoming engagement ceremonies, being held in two different states in Nigeria and thankfully one wedding ceremony in Lagos. That meant three different traditional custom-made outfits for Jeremy; apart from the suit he would wear to the church. Shaking his head in amusement, he was in the wrong business; he should be in the textile business and move to Nigeria. Nigerian weddings, especially the Yoruba ones, were incomplete without aso ebi. It was a running joke in Nigeria that they would sew aso ebi even if their pet died.

Smiling as he remembered the call, he had a while back with Remi, who had explained all the traditions involved in getting married in Nigeria. The whole thing fascinated him, as he had always been curious and keen to learn more about Remi’s Yoruba heritage, family, and traditions for his own private and complicated reasons.

This wedding would be the perfect cover and excuse for a clandestine visit to Ile-Ife in Nigeria.

Thank you for the update, OP

Rosemary33:
Thank you for the update, OP

I've been following your advert about this book before its publication. I never knew it was another Lekki Club thing na.

I'd definitely buy this too.

Divepen1:
I've been following your advert about this book before its publication. I never knew it was another Lekki Club thing na.

I'd definitely buy this too.

Thank you.

So, this Jeremmy of man is kinda related to Ademuyiwa if I am truly following.
Anyway, we are waiting for the erotic Queen to clear the coast.
Sweet popcorn for you.