Thursday, 28 August 2014


This wonderful piece was written by one of my amazing Twitter follower @midnightsun84. There was something about this post that touched me deep… probably because I could understand the girl’s plight in the story. 
For those, expecting it to be all sex and filthy romps, SORRY! Today is Reader’s Tuesday… its meant for stories that some of YOU, my esteemed readers, have taken time out to write and send to me. This is my way of saying THANK YOU for sticking by my perverted ass.
PS: We are still waiting for GoldCircle, Durex, Trojan, ati beebee lo to come and advertise o. Please, my darling readers… I am groveling here… Tell ya family members that work in these companies to come hook a sister with adverts na… Una want make hunger kill me enemies???
*Bawls and runs away from site with shaky water-water nyash*

I let out an involuntary moan as my fingers moved rhythmically under the sheets. I was getting closer…my fingers moved faster and faster on the tiny bud of pleasure hidden in the folds of my nether lips. Almost there, my fingers moved frantically and faster, my whole body jerked in little spasms, my legs tightened, my cervix tightened, my toes curled and I had to bite back a scream. My legs quaked and shuddered and I waited for my breathing to return to normal. When the haze of satisfaction cleared, the now familiar feelings of guilt crept in, the dirtiness of what I had just done; The re-realisation that I couldn’t do without some sort of sexual gratification, even if it meant that I had to give it to myself.
Ever since I’d started touching myself under the covers after lights out, the cycle was always the same. I’d get horny, then I’d let my fingers perform their magic, afterwards, when my thighs stopped shaking and that button stopped throbbing, feelings of guilt and self loathing would creep in. Like, was I so much of a pervert that I couldn’t go a day without being consumed by sexual thoughts and fantasies? And must I always engage in a sexual act, even with myself? How did I get to this point?

At my former school, I was the star girl; the most beautiful girl and one of the most intelligent. I was even the school principal and several teachers personal favourite. I was the girl other girls wanted to be, I had it all going for me. Then ‘corper’ Andrew was assigned to teach us History during evening lessons. Andrew was very neat, handsome and spoke fluent English, so, predictably, almost all the girls from SS1 to SS3 were half in love with him. But SS1 girls were lucky; we were the ones he was teaching and we spent time basking in his awesomeness.
Naturally, corper Andrew noticed me, because I was always the first to answer, or ask questions in class. So that fateful evening when he asked us to submit our History assignment notes, he asked me to bring them along with him to his room at the corp members’ lodge. Once in there, he bolted the door and backed me up against the wall. He was standing so close to me that I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. I had never stood so close to a man/boy before, and suddenly, all the scintillating things I read in those romance novels took on a new meaning. I looked up and met his gaze… such beautiful eyes… and then he kissed me; my first kiss.

Leaving his room that evening, I was a different girl from the one that entered. I was a 13 year old in whom yearnings had been awakened. Desire was eating and burning me up. Andrew had touched me in unmentionable places that made me moist. That night, I lay in bed and thought about how wonderful it felt…he felt. I didn’t know that even adults, not only babies suckled on tits. I thought it was only a mother-baby thing. I didn’t know it felt sooooooooo good.
The next time corper Andrew asked me to take class notes to his room, I was excited! This time around, I knew exactly what was going to happen and I was looking forward to it. That evening, he didn’t just touch me through my panties; he took them off and fit himself inside me. First came the pleasure, the feeling of having every part of me touched and caressed… Then the pain of initial penetration. Our sexual relationship was born that day. Every evening, I would go to Andrew’s room for at least one round of hot, acrobatic sex. It was like cocaine; I was hooked and I couldn’t do without it. Holidays and midterms that I used to look forward to became dreaded because that meant I would be away from Andrew and his amazing body that was designed to give me pleasure.

Sadly, good things don’t last; Andrew completed his one year youth service and left. I didn’t know how I was going to cope without sex, so I just moved on to the next person that occupied his room. Corper Seyi was even better at sex than Andrew. His skill made me even more sexually needy and I made it a habit of going to his room first in the morning before assembly and later the evening. By the time I turned 14, there was hardly any sexual position I hadn’t tried out. By the end of my SS2, Corper Seyi completed his service and left and naturally, I moved on the next occupant of that room.

Corper Kay proved to be a fatal mistake. The first time Kay and I had sex was also the last. I’d gotten on top; determined to give him the ride of a lifetime. When he was close to cumming, he started shouting… groaning and screaming at the top of his voice. He was so loud that he attracted other corp members and teachers living at the lodge. That was how the cat was let out of the bag. I was quietly expelled. 
My parents promptly organized deliverance sessions for me but I knew my problem was not spiritual. It was simply that I had been introduced to sex so early in life and I loved it! However, I was able to realize my problem on time. I was addicted to sex and I knew it was a dangerous addiction and I realized how easily it could damage my life so I tried to curb it. Despite having many hot corp members in my new school, Kay was the last man I have lain with and I would love for it to remain that way for a very long time. I am determined to break free and stop hopping from man to man.

The urges though, won’t go away and I have mastered the art of using my fingers; choosing instead to pleasure myself whenever the urge possessed me and achieving the much needed orgasm my body craved. It is a dirty, self demeaning habit, but at least, I am making progress. I am not sleeping with any teacher in my new school and I don’t plan to. Perhaps I would have made more progress if my parents had sought practical help for me, say counseling… instead of having priests whip the ‘demon’ out of me with a broom. 
Maybe I would have made more progress if someone, anyone, understood that I would have still been that prim and proper girl if Andrew hadn’t decided to “Teach me Biology Practical”. Maybe if they’d understood that I couldn’t say no or help myself because of the excitement that came along with sex (as it was designed to, naturally) or maybe if someone had bothered to ask for my side of the story instead of branding me a ‘possessed child, I would have made more progress. At least I am not going down that road again. Someday, I know I wouldn’t make my fingers please me again.

My pillow is wet from tears I didn’t even know I was shedding. I close my eyes to sleep, inside, I feel hollow, empty. I just wish there was someone who could understand.

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