The Sexcapade Of Natasha- 21

  • Post By Emdee David 12:10pm on Saturday 1st June 2019

Guess what, Pastor Ken is serious about marrying Natasha, and Natasha is considering it. Her problem is if Ken would be able to satisfy her in bed. Could he? She wants to have a taste to confirm.


By Emdee David

 

The date for Natasha’s wedding is fixed for the 1st of April; that’s in a few weeks’ time. Pastor Ken has even announced in his church about the wedding, and the applause was heavenly. They would rush the wedding, there is no need for a long courtship; no, there is no courtship at all. Ken doesn’t believe Christians should court; it is a western idea and devilish, because, it leads to “promiscuity”. The ideal Christian wedding, Ken had explained to his church and now to his bride-to-be, is that in which the man first seeks God’s face on who to marry, God shows him the wife and he goes straight to plan for the wedding. Courtship, in the name of knowing each other, he says, is an opportunity to satisfy lustful desires together.

 

 

“I hope you do understand,” Bro. Ken says to Natasha, who is presently horny and struggling with the fact that she would not have sex with her fiancé, until their wedding night; that’s if they won’t be too tired to have sex that night.

 

“Yes, sir.” She replies and blows him a kiss. He smiles and gets up to go. Natasha stands up from the bed to meet him.

“Do you really love me?” she asks Pastor Ken who stands akimbo in front of a sexy-looking Natasha.
“Sure, I do. I love you,”

“I love sex,” she says.

“I know,” he says and turns away from her seductive gaze. “But you just have to endure, control yourself until we are married. Sex before marriage is a sin. But God’s grace will cover you.”

“God’s grace does not get to my pants, I swear,” Natasha’s voice is shaky. “I have inserted bible many times, but it didn’t change anything, I love sex.”

 

SILENCE

“Channel your mind to things that are pure, Natasha.”

“Sex is pure, sweet, lovely, medicinal, and created by God….for our pleasure, can’t you see.”

“You are correct. God created sex for your pleasure.”

“Then, let’s have pleasure,” she moves to hold him, but he moves away.

“No, it’s only permitted within the confines of marriage…”

 

“So? Are we not in the confines of marriage?” she picks the paper they had written items for the wedding from the bed and shows it to his face. Behind the paper is another list of some names, she’d told Ken of people she would invite for their wedding. Now she is shouting. “Is this not confines of marriage, eh. And these white wedding thing, is it not oyibo thing? Oyibo created dating and white wedding, you pick white wedding and reject dating, abi na courtship you call am….is that fair? Eh, my darling husband, come and do me nah, am burning o…”

 

Ken can’t help laughing. “So funny. Anyway, don’t worry, we can bring the date backwards if you want, but we have to…wait…till…that…day.” He touches her on the cheek and then picks his car key from the stool.

“You touched my cheek?”

“And so?”

“Before marriage?”

“Get out jo…”

“You have committed touchery, you will go to hell…fire,” Natasha jokes and buttons up her loosened shirt, disappointed her trick didn’t work. Ken laughs the more and leaves. At the door, he says, “The wedding gown will arrive in three days.”

“Okay, bye sweetie.”

Natasha turns to the other page of the wedding plans and views the names on it. She knows within herself that those names are people that would never see her wedding card, not to talk of receive a copy. They are forty in number, and she has planned to sleep with each of them for the next forty days. Some would even have her twice if they did well. She has to satisfy herself before entering into what she considers conjugal bondage, not even with a romantic man, but a man she would never feel the size of his manhood inside her until…wedding night? God forbid, not her. If it means rape…, she thinks. Wetin? Which kind Mahatma Gandhi I wan marry so? Abeg, abeg, abeg.

 

She picks up her phone and calls the first person on the list. There is no response. She calls the second, who answers before the second ring. He must have been expecting her call.

 

“I am ready,” she says into the phone, and then listens. “Okay, I will meet you there.”
She meets him at the scheduled place, a bar and casino in a “coded” area of Abuja.  They go hands clawed together into the club filled with white men and black strippers, assorted drinks and cigars. At a corner, Rajah’s eyes are glued to a girl in her teen, half-naked with boobs the side of Agbalumo (cherry fruit). But the miracle she displays would marvel even Cossy Orjiakor. She could shake the little mammary glands, or stand still while the tiny boobs are dancing. Her nipples are so big and incommensurate with the size of her breasts. That is the part that baffles Natasha. I thought big nipples come with big breasts, she thinks. This girl would do exploits.

 

She goes closer to the dancing stripper, sprays her with twenty dollar bills her companion had given her for other purposes. She inserts the bills right into the girl’s half exposed privacy.

“How did you find here?” she asks her companion as they leave to a more secluded corner with a few black men and some white girls sitting on their laps.

“Cynthia brought me here,” he says. “Please, don’t tell her I told you so?”

“You kidding me?” Natasha retorts, “That means I am gonna tell her I slept with you too…or….after all these, what else are we going to do? Won’t we…?”

“No, we will be playing snooker.”

“With my body as the board, then. I get you.”

They order for drinks, sitting beside each other.  Minutes later, Natasha pulls his left hand and inserts it into her pants. He knows what to do next and he does it so well. Everywhere is dark. Only occasional flashes of light reveal some squeezed pleasured faces around them. Natasha also sends her hands into his boxers and pleasures him with the softness of her palms. The chairs on which they sit begin to betray them and so Natasha quickly excuses herself to the ladies.

“Let me show you,” he says and leads her to the VIP toilets. They are wide, neat with wash-hand basins strong enough to withstand the weight of a horse. Natasha skips the toilet and reclined on the sink. Her partner tiptoes behind her and frees Natasha from the entanglement of her G-strings.

“Come in,” she whispers as he raises up his Atiku dress. But then a rowdy noise fills the convenience, the main door bursts open and footsteps like dozens of soldiers rush into the toilet. Another door adjacent to Natasha opens and closes in a rush. A girl is screaming and the sound soon becomes unintelligible. But after carefully listening, Natasha finds out the feet that had rushed in are only four, and the intruders are there to do what she and her partner had come to do.


“Fire me,” she shouts audibly, and her sex partner rushes into her with his thick dark dick. She bends and grinds on him while he thrusts mercilessly and so hard the firm ceramic basin begins to give way. He stops for adjustments but gets distracted by the noise from the other toilet. Both partners seem to be very young, as they seem to want to pull down the whole building. And again, the sound the girl makes arouses him the more.

 

“Fire me,” the tiny voice from the other side says to the owner of the dick inserted deep into her, obviously imitating Natasha, who then stares at a smiling, sweaty man enclosed with her in the toilet. He quickly grabs her, turns her around thrusts in again. He first misses the right hole but with the help of the tender hand of Natasha, the round peg goes into the triangle hole. And as he climaxed, he collapses on her.

 

Somebody exhales from the other toilet and soon leaves the closet. A little dragging of feet and then the toilet is flushed. The door slightly opens and a full grown adult, not a teenage girl as presumed, steps out. Natasha, inquisitive, watches from the key whole as Cynthia strolls away, her heels fading off into the sound-proofed club hall. Her shock is just becoming obvious to Andy who has just cleaned up. Then she hears footsteps again. The man with Cynthia comes out in hastened footsteps.
“Dickson!” she gasps and freezes, as her ex-lover scurries away. Andy stares into the ceiling but is certain there is no exit up there.

 -----------------TO BE CONT'D------------

 

CLICK   Sexcapade of Natasha - 20 to read the previous Episode and other romantic series.

 

Emdee David – is the President of Africa Entertainment Network, a Writer, Producer and Director of Radio, TV and Digital media contents. He is the renowned author of SHADOWS OF THE SUN (Heinemann Publishers Plc). His other works include GUYS ARE US, BAD TRIP, The PACKAGE, and over sixty poems.

Twitter: AEN_Online

Instagram: Makezela

Website: www.emdeedavid.com

Facebook Page: @makezea

Poetry site: www.postpoems.com/authors/mdadeola Email: makezela@gmail.com


  

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