Password(sex jokes)

Morning,
Someone sent this in earlier this
week, I think the writer is
brilliant, have fun reading it.
__
‘An afternoon with the author’.
That was my prize. The grand
prize, the first runner up had
gotten a blackberry playbook and
I had gotten an afternoon with
the author. I seriously wanted to
switch places. I didn’t know who
the author was, I had gotten
involved with the writing
competition because my best
friend registered me without my
knowledge.
We had been asked to describe
an ideal afternoon with that
author. My description was a lazy
afternoon, seated on the floor of
a quiet bookshop talking about
our favorite books and favorite
authors. He had liked it, I didn’t
even want to come. Why spend
an afternoon getting hit on? But
my bestie loved his work and she
wanted all the details.
I got out of the cab in front of
the small non-descriptive
bookshop situated on one of the
many side streets that dotted the
Awolowo road, Ikoyi section of
the map. The curtains were still
in place behind the picture
windows. He was late. I paid the
leering taxi driver and walked
towards the building. I wasn’t
sure what he was leering at, I
was wearing a properly flared
skirt and a long sleeve button
down shirt. I wasn’t even trying
to be sexy.
The door opened before I
knocked and I took a step back.
He was nothing like I expected.
In a novel I’d have come face to
face with a supermodel with
geek glasses on. He was short.
Not Aki or Paw Paw. But barely
taller than I am, that wasn’t what
caught my attention. He was
muscular. I could tell beneath the
loosely fitted casual top he wore
and that smile. He looked
innocent, adorable.
When he spoke, it was accentless
but refined. I smiled without
thinking.
“My name is Edem” He said calmly
“I know” I shot back, clearing
losing my cool due to the ultra
sexiness I imagined under the
loose fitting shirt.
I followed him into the bookshop
while he turned on the lights and
opened the blinds. “I’m sorry” he
said,
“I’ve been here for a while but I
like to sit in the dark, would you
like something to drink?” My
mouth had suddenly gone dry so
I nodded.
He led me past shelf after shelf of
books, I craned my neck to catch
glimpses of some of the more
familiar titles, as I followed him
through the door on the far end
of the wall, I walked into a
kitchen that was a far contrast to
the mini-library I had just come
through.
He pulled an apron off the back
of the door and slipped it on. He
tugged at the sleeves of his shirt
till they settled just beneath his
elbow.
“What would you like?” I told him
anything, he smiled again and I
started smelling cookie dough.
It was ridiculous, my blackberry
beeped and I snuck a peep, it
was my bestie she was hungry
for gist. I hurriedly typed a
message saying I just got here.
She read and replied in seconds
‘is he hot?’.
It was part of why she adored
him, he was mysterious. She had
heard him on the radio but there
were no pictures of him. All his
promo shots were graphically
altered so his features were
unclear. His book spoke to her
and she wanted to see who he
was. I ignored the message.
When I looked up, he was
backing me, pulling cookies out
of the oven.
“I didn’t bake these, he said
before he turned around.
Chocolate Royale deserves the
credit, I was just warming them.
When I read your entry I thought
the only thing missing was a
plate of cookies and a jug of
milk.”
He pulled out a jug of milk from
the fridge. He was definitely
eccentric, which Nigerian adult
likes cookies and milk?
He walked over to the tall center
island and hopped onto it.
“My office tells me I’m supposed
to inspire you in the space of 4
hours, from noon till 4pm, you’ll
have a press conference and tell
everyone how great it was to
hang out with me for an
afternoon. I don’t know if I can
do that. What inspires you?” He
said
The question caught me off
guard. I hastily put together a
reply.
“Family, Friends, Good things. I’m
epicurian”. I said
“Epicurius, so pleasure motivates
you.” He replied
“Rather hedonistic. What gives
you pleasure?” Another question,
like he was testing me.

“Winning, being in control, great
sex”. I said that last bit before I
thought, I just blurted it out. He
fell silent, I started to stammer an
apology then he got off the
island walked over and lifted me
clean off my feet. I am not fat but
I’m not petite or light either, I
weighed a solid 60kg and he
picked me up like I was a child. I
wrapped my legs around his
waist instinctively.
My brain was trying to play catch
up.
How did we get here? But my
body knew, I could feel my
nipples pushing against the
fabric of my lace bra. Already
sensitive!
Aching to be touched, my hands
were already on his arms. Feeling
through that casual shirt, tracing
the outlines of his muscles I
could feel them beneath the
smooth dark skin. My hair had
fallen over my face and I wanted
to kiss him, to lean in and forget
every alarm bell that had gone off
in my now active brain.
He was adorable and I wanted to
ravish him.
“I want you too” he whispered
then his right hand that had
been holding me aloft left my ass
while his left shifted a bit to
accomodate the weight. That
hand found its way up my back
and with a lazy flick he unhooked
my bra strap. I think the bra
might have been affronted, he
had brushed it aside like a
cobweb.
“I must apologize for my
hastiness but when you walked
in with half your shirt undone it
took everything to not stare and
that’s all I’ve wanted to do since
you came in” I looked at my shirt
sure enough the first three
buttons were loose. Sigh
He set me on the counter then
pulled the shirt open. He looked
me straight in the eye as he
loosened all the other buttons. I
let him push the shirt over my
shoulder. I watched him look at
me, his eyes darkened, then he
lowered his head. Just before his
lips connected with my right
nipple that was practically
pulsating in anticipation, he
stopped. I could feel his breath
on it. A hair’s breadth away, just
breathing.
I felt his hands traveling up my
legs. Forging identical paths up
both of them. When he reached
my upper thighs he stopped and
spun them in gentle circles. It
was like he was sending
subliminal messages to my
nether regions, my ex had said I
was difficult to please, getting
me to climax was like breaking
the Da Vinci Code, you had to
understand Latin. We hadn’t even
started fucking but I was flooded
and I knew for a fact, Edem
Isong was fluent in latin.
As the tips of his fingers inched
closer to the center of me they
slowed, I willed them to go
faster, his breath was still hitting
my nipple evenly the combination
was heavy, as the fingers closed
in on the folded lips I arched my
back and my nipple slipped into
his mouth.
“Good girl” he muttered.
I looked down to find him
smiling. He knew exactly what he
was doing then he traced the
opening from the base to my clit
in slow motion and the words of
protest on my lips died. The
thought I had was of Paganini,
referred to as the devil’s fiddler. I
was the fiddle and I was
enjoying being played.
When his lips left my nipples and
his tongue stopped drawing lazy
circles around them, I felt a
profound loss, I wanted to grab
the back of his head and shove it
back there. There were a lot of
things I wanted to do that I
couldn’t. I wanted to touch him,
to pleasure him in return but I
was caught in the onslaught, he
didn’t seem to care. He was
focused, focused on me and that
thought heightened my pleasure.
He had a finger inside me,
stroking my walls, his thumb was
on my clit, his left hand was
everywhere else. He leaned up till
his lips were next to my ears
then he slowly whispered
everything he intended to do to
me.
He was going to lift me up the
counter and drop me on his dick
and after I had come, he would
lead me into the library and eat
those cookies off my skin and
then he would bend me over and
slowly teach me to scream his
name. Listening to him, I
climaxed for the first time. He felt
me contract and the flood of
wetness that followed. Then he
pulled his finger out then lifted
me off the counter and impaled
me. I had no idea when he took
his trousers off.
I had my legs wrapped around
him again. He moved backwards,
to the centre of the room. My
hands were on his shoulders, his
were cupping my ass. He moved
and I exploded.
In reality he was standing still. He
lifted me off his dick, then
dropped me onto it. It was thick
and unmoving and when it filled
me all the way to the hilt, I came
again.
When he lifted me off it again, I
reached down to feel it, I had to.
He let me run my hands around
it, holding me aloft. I had
stopped worrying about how
heavy I was, he could handle it.
He looked adorable but he
wasn’t, he was an alpha male.
The next time he impaled me it
was gentle, he slid into a gentle
rhythm, gradually building his
pace. I didn’t care about anything
else now, not the repeated beeps
from my blackberry, not my
friend on the other end, not the
fact that I was audible to the
occupants of the nearby
buildings.
The first two times I came had
been sudden, I was caught by
surprise. Now I could feel it
building. The sensation
originated from my shoulders
and travelled down my spine, my
whole body stiffened and
convulsed around him, the
pleasure ripped through me and
escaped in a scream.
He kept carrying me, he was still
hard inside me but he wasn’t
thrusting anymore. I needed the
time to recuperate and I think he
knew it. We just stood there. My
eyes were closed, occasionally a
ripple of pleasure would flow
through me and I’d shudder. It
was comfortable, the rise and fall
of his chest, I could fall asleep
here, then I opened my eyes and
caught side of the glass of milk
still sitting on the center island.
I can’t sleep yet, we had cookies
to eat.

9jasexpost

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