Secrets 3

Mel gasped and looked up at Dozie.
Dozie looked from the man to Mel.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to look at anyone pet, don’t make things worse for yourself”
Mel’s eyes immediately fell to the floor, her face flushed and her breathing picking up speed. She felt like she would faint and scream at the same time.
Did she want to have sex with Dozie again? In front of her owner? Would her feelings show in her reactions? Would her Owner see what existed between them? Sex with Dee was always intense—she wasn’t sure if time would make much difference in that aspect. Mel was afraid now, truly afraid; the tears came of their own accord and she was grateful her head was bowed.
“What? You can’t speak anymore?” Her Owner asked Dozie.

Dozie looked up at him again.
“I won’t ‘fuck’ her again, not in your presence anyways. Why? For your entertainment? I’m not your slave okay? I came to see my friend, don’t be silly!” Dozie shot to his feet, spilling his beer in the process. Mel saw his feet move around her, clearly headed for the door.
“Call me when this man leaves Mel, I’ll take you for some ice cream or more wine. Grant her permission to.”
The door slammed and Mel jerked at the sound, the struggle to sob quietly caused her to shake uncontrollably.
Dozie just told her Owner what to do, which in turn made things worse and he didn’t know it—his temper was never pretty. Mel sighed.
Through her tears, she saw her Owner’s shoes move away from her towards the bedroom. She was unable to move, from both fear and no instruction as to whether she should follow or not. She was afraid to move, afraid to wipe her tears, afraid to breathe even, she was terrified!
What would Sir do to her now? Her mind ticked off the toys in the box and she was trying to figure out what her punishment would be. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t hear Sir walk back into the living room, or the chain he dragged behind him. She didn’t know anything going on around her until she felt the cold metal on her back and she squealed, whipping her head up.
“Ah. You missing him that much you don’t even remember I’m here anymore? Are you trying to push me farther today, pet?” His voice was calm and crooning, smooth, verbally petting her. He only used this tone of voice after play; Mel could not fathom what Sir was thinking. The chain was going round her middle now, under her arms and in between her legs.
“You’re wet…hmmm”
He secured one loose end with a padlock at her back, letting the remaining length drape across her shoulder and land on her thigh. Sir situated himself on the couch where Dozie was sat prior, carefully avoiding the puddle of beer and with his foot, pushed her chin up.
“Look at me. Now!”
Mel’s head came up, her eyes meeting his at last. She inhaled and exhaled, trying to shut the valve of tears off. He was a beautiful man, his face still took her breath away every time.
“Tears. How beautiful. Shall we begin?”

Secrets 2

“Don’t make me ask again, Mel. Who. Is this? You have my permission to speak.”
She rose to kneeling position again, her eyes fixed on the spot her lips just touched; how many times did he use her name?
“Sir, this is Dozie, my ex boyfriend.”
“Why is he here and why am I not aware of his being here in the first place?”
“I… Sir he…
“Speak Up Mel! What. Is. He. Doing. Here?”
Sir wasn’t even supposed to come over today…her mind was reeling. Mel was shaking now, her mind blank; she couldn’t see her Owner’s shoes anymore. He called her by her name again? How many times now? Someone cleared their throat, forgetting herself momentarily she looked up; her Owner was looking at Dozie so she quickly cast her eyes down.
“Not a word from you, young man. Stay absolutely quiet and still; not a word or act of interruption from you.”
Sir tapped his right thigh, signaling for Mel to move to his side; she managed sloppily, her vision blurred by tears threatening to fall. Her head was suddenly yanked backwards forcing her to meet the eyes of her Owner. His look was one of desire and anger, causing her vagina to throb harder.
“You. You insolent, little, slut. You dare disobey me? You dare go against my instructions?”
She would have replied, shook her head, begged and pleaded her case, but any actions now would be more violations. The brat in her was aware that Mel had overshot her quota of acceptable bratty behavior for the day. The brat in her knew she was not to do a thing without his permission—therefore satisfied with her current dilemma. The brat in her felt no need or desire to disobey her Owner anymore.
“Speak, slut. Defend your foolish behavior.”
“Sir, I sent you a message about his arrival. He got here before you could respond. I did—
“So”, he silenced her.
“That means you Gave him the go ahead to come here Before running it by………Me? Oh. Complete insolence.”
His ability to speak sternly without raising his voice simultaneously turned Mel on, and made her shiver some more. Her mind was spinning with the various ways he may—because he was definitely going to—punish her.
Dozie was silent now.
Watching.
Hands in his lap, beer long forgotten; he looked from Mel to the strange man—her Sir—as their conversation progressed. He knew about Mel’s kinks; three years together was more than enough to be in the know. Mel informed him from the beginning actually, when she was in the peak of her frenzy days. They had their share of sessions and other activities he tried to indulge in outside the bedroom to satisfy her…and him, to an extent.
But.
Never THIS far.
He looked at Mel again with an old but familiar need her vulnerability awakened in him, and her Owner caught him this time.
“You. Young man, would you like to fuck her…again?”

I love him, but I fuck him not.

I remember a little too vividly taking dick for hours, one steamy night in July; somewhere in Lagos state, Nigeria. I had just gotten out of a relationship and I had not been satisfied by my new ex, before he became my ex–those who know me, know I do not play with my libido–and I was ravenous. Here I was, in between jobs, fresh out a relationship and un-sexed, in Lagos for my ceremonial break; I am sure I was leaving traces of hormones everywhere I went thanks to my primal need. However, this was not for lack of bodies with which I could get recompense, no; I was in need of a specific quality of sex only old lovers could provide (I was sure because the new one I secured prior to the trip didn’t make the cut); and I was proven right by an age old lover who kinda wiped the slate clean. He has been in my life for a little over 4 years now; met through my sister and forged a weird bond very early. We eventually got to fucking and proceeded to do so for years after…and he has overtime shown that he knows how to please me. Naturally, I turn to him when I am craving genital contact and I cannot trust a newbie to deliver adequately. fast forward to this night, when knowledge of my return to Abuja became a reality in his brain (I had been trying to bed him for a month but he kept nigga-ing), he called me and suddenly had time for me. One taxi ride later, leaving a confused Mother behind–I had only just said good night–I found myself in an estate, wrapped in his muscular arms. We are so accustomed to each other that there really is no forming between us…I am 100% at home in his presence, as he is with me (farts and all, that deep!) Sex for us is never planned, and has no grand gestures attached to it; we meet, we touch, we wanna smash, we make it happen. So this night, we settle down, have a drink, a toke, clothes are shed…there was a shared shower session and then we got down to business.

It was physically fulfilling–dirty talking, multiple positions, the right angles, the right amount of pain, orgasms–and it went on for hours. We fucked for hours. Every time he pulled me back into one position or the other I would feel some kind of new pain but I was so horngry that I could not resist; I was determined to completely destroy the months-long konji plaguing my mind and body. I woke up some two hours later to go home and prepare for my trip scheduled for the next day. We were both in pain, exhausted and hungry–it was a battle that now (LMAO!?) I do not know why or what we were fighting!

THIS IS NOT ABOUT HIM HOWEVER…thing is…

It is September now, and I cannot fathom touching a penis.

It is September and the me that was gulping down dick in July, cannot be reconciled with the September me now, and this started in August!

I am 80% sure  that I am allergic to phallic items and the main penis itself. I have not tried because I cannot get as far as being naked in front of a man, with the awareness that coitus is possible or the end game. I may cry if someone whips a penis out at me and asks me to please it right now; legitimate tears on ugly cry levels. This is not particularly good news because I just gave my submission to a man whom I thought would be the exception to this new law my vagina passed without my knowledge or permission–it’s not going in his favor.

Am I still attracted to men? My eyes and vagina are sure I still am; I still get the throbs when I see a good looking specimen pass by, or smell one, or see one do something that makes my jajaina jump on a normal day. I am kinda sure I am still attracted to them…to a healthy extent. Notwithstanding, I do not want to attract penile attentions from them.

NOW! My new lover and I had sex for the first time yesterday (do not punish yourself, it’s a woman…I really meant it!) and she penetrated me with her beautiful somewhat fleshy fingers. The whole session was fulfilling, pleasurable and orgasm bearing; so much that I was in a good mood the remainder of the day. However, I had time to think this morning and I am sure I do not want to be penetrated at all,  till further notice! THIS one? I can investigate, explore and conclude on whether penetration issa whole no, or if fingers from women are welcome……I may be gracious enough to extend this research to men but I have to seek permission from my vagina cuz that bitch is in charge now, clearly. She gotta let me know if men are welcome to grace her presence or if it’s game over for them as a whole!

There have been days when I am convinced that I am no longer bisexual–my friends are all for it seeing as I am more involved in the community and surrounded by more gay than bisexual women–other days I know that I am still bi but have just simply scooted some notches up the spectrum towards the female human form end, in ways that are not necessarily favorable to the men. I am here for it though, lol, I like how smooth Ellen’s face is (only achievable thanks to female juices she consumes because, white; argue with your genes) and I want to look 28 at 60 too! I am here for being more attuned to my femininity and basking in female energy all month long, whether via platonic or intimate interaction–I am here for ALL of it!

Shout out to my current lover who seduced me senseless. It feels good to be hunted thoroughly by a woman who genuinely wants me…and I want right back!

So, even though I love me some ‘hims’, I fuck ‘hims’ not.