Sometimes I wonder why we are each not born with a sack of money and everything we need to live life. Why do people have to come to the world and struggle?
I know some schools of thought will say: Well, God didn’t intend it to be that way, that’s why he put Adam and Eve in the garden of eden. Well, we know how that ended. And why do we have to suffer for that?
The other day I saw a woman at the market, she looked so sickly. It would have been better if she was home resting, but there she was under the scorching sun selling vegetables. To make matters worse, she had two young children with her.
Life seemed unfair at that moment. And I wondered: Why would some people be born just to come and suffer? What is the essence of it all? Can one choose not to come to the world and be wherever it is that souls dwell before coming to dwell in a body?
These and more were some of my pondering during the course of the week. The week went by fast and it was a relief to be able to sleep without watching or waiting for the alarm to ring.
That weekend though, I woke up feeling tired and lazy. So I decided to do some stretching. That didn’t really help much. My energy was low. So I did some meditation.
I was on the mat for over 45 minutes lost in my thoughts when the alarm from my phone brought me back to reality. I contemplated going for a swim. It had been a while. While I was trying to make up my mind what to do, my doorbell rang. I opened the door for my new obsession with a smile on my face. He smiled back at me.
He had been to the gym and he decided to check up on me when he was done. I explained to him how I was feeling. He looked at me intently and instructed me to lie on my stomach. I did.
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He oiled my entire body and gave me a massage. My neck and back muscles relaxed and I could feel the pressure lift like I had been carrying a heavy load previously. I lost myself in the massage, moaning softly as he touched me. I was beginning to feel some excitement brewing.
When he got to my thighs, I could already feel my juice slipping out of my coochie. He spread my legs. I gasped in anticipation. He oiled my mound, parted my coochie lips, and massaged gently. Then with the slightest touch, he stroked my already erect clitoris. At this moment, I started to move my waist.
I felt something warm on my clitoris and I shivered. It was his tongue. He tickled my honey pot. Then he sucked my juice. I held his head down on my coochie, not wanting to miss anything. I lost myself and stiffened as I came.
Still on the mat, he got out of his pants, spread my legs and entered me. It was a smooth entry. He rode me like you ride a luxury car.
I raised both my legs to allow full entry and filling. I felt pleasure in every part of my body. “I love this dick,” I moaned.
He caught my lips and kissed me deeply. This masked my scream as I came again. He squeezed both my breasts softly, looking intently into my eyes as he fucked me. He made a deep animal sound and came too. We laid on the floor for several minutes, catching our breath and doing small talk.
I don’t know if it was the fact that we did it on the floor, but it was really a sweet experience. It appears sex on the floor is becoming it for me.
I would love to hear your comments: 09161129108 (WhatsApp); Telegram: @tiwa_says; and email: tiwalolaoke@yahoo.com.
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