'Deolu #ONIRANU Bubble!

Zoe’s Scribbles (18+): The Foreigner

I had been having a really awful week. It wasn’t my job. Work throughout this week was surprisingly breezy. Not much workload to deal with. For some reason I was in a foul mood and I couldn’t point at the cause of it.

I figured I needed to get away from all the negativity around me. I decided to book a room at the Maison Fahrenheit Hotel for the weekend and shut myself in, away from all the nonsense in Lagos. All phones off save for my iPad because I have to stay connected to the interwebs.

Friday after work, I hollered at Alex and the rest of the crew, cancelling our usual Happy Hour. I had to tell them I had plans, making them believe it was with a man.

That was the only way they were going to let me off. I went straight to the hotel after buying dinner some bottles of red wine and Jack Daniels with Coca-Cola as a mixer. As soon as I got into my room, I had a long bath before pouncing on my food.

I was so bored afterwards, no Friday night Twitter entertainment that I began to regret coming here. I decided to go down to the restaurant and have myself a cocktail or two. Slipping into a bodycon dress and mules, I quickly fixed my hair and make-up (you never know who you might meet ey?), grabbed my clutch and left the room.

Waiting for the elevator to take me down, I noticed this really dark, good looking man talking to a lady whom I guessed was his wife. She looked really upset and he was trying to pacify her. I didn’t get to eavesdrop because soon the elevator doors opened and I stepped in. I got to the restaurant and went straight to the bar. The guy on duty happened to be my favourite bartender and he did what he knows how to do best- kept the drinks coming.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be sitting at the bar alone”.

I rolled my eyes at the individual, irritated at that 1950s corny ass line and thinking that Nigerian men need to do better with their pick up lines. I couldn’t even dignify the talker with a look.

“And I know you’re not a hooked because you have a respectable air around you”.

At that my neck snapped and I was about to deliver a retort when my eyes fell upon this gorgeous looking foreigner. Now, pale men aren’t exactly my cup of tea but this one reminded me of Chris Hemsworth.

Because I’m a naija babe and I must form, I still delivered my retort ‘of course you’d know what hoovers look like when you pick them up everyday’. He laughed hard, so much that I had to join in.

“My name’s Chris”. I took his hand to shake him as I introduced myself, “Zoé”.

“Zoé, why don’t we head over to the dining area? I’m starving and I could do with some company”.

I figured, what the hell. I could do with some company too and we both headed over to the dining area. Besides, I was beginning to get hungry again.

We ordered our meals and while we were waiting for the food to come through, we got talking, turns out Chris works at Chevron as an engineer and he has been in Nigeria for 5 years.

After dinner, Chris decided it was too early to turn in and we had to drink. And drink we did. To be honest, he was great company. I didn’t think a foreigner in Nigeria would be that fun because we were being a complete nuisance, I hinted that I had several drinks in my room. We left the restaurant to the relief of the other diners and went up to my room.

As soon as we got in, I pulled out 2 bottles of red and JD with a bottle of Coca-Cola as well as 2 red cups and we got drinking. We decided to have a drinking game. For every time we saw a girl shaking her behind on the TV screen, we would have a cup and boy did we drink.

I’m not sure how it happened but I found myself ripping Chris’ shirt open while we locked tongues. Luckily he wore nothing underneath and my hands were roaming around his body. His hands found the zip of my dress and he unzipped it, carefully pulling the dress over my body.

Like him, I wore nothing underneath. He lifted me and laid me gently on the bed. Fondling with his belt, he took off his trousers and boy, I had no idea English guys were packing or was it just Chris? He squatted in between my legs, spread my legs open and inhaled my scent.

My pussy decided that act was erotic and it watered. As his tongue hit my temple, I squealed. His tongue rolled in pussy so much that I was writhing before I realised I was.

As he ate me out, I could feel my orgasm building and when it crashed, it was huge. I squirted in his mouth and he took every last drop.

He got up and reached for a condom in his pants pocket and slipped it on. He turned me over with my ass facing him and he rammed into me. I screamed in delight as he thrust in and out, fast. Lifting my leg, he started going slowly, going round and round like he was trying to arouse me all over again. Then he hit speed. This was exactly what I needed. His thumb travelled to the entrance of my butthole and tested there without him going in. For some reason, that drove me over the edge and I came all over the sheets.

I was awakened the next morning by the sound of room service knocking on the door. I looked around and noticed I was alone in the room. I grabbed a robe, opened the door and the room service guy wheeled in a large breakfast. “Mr Chris asked me to give you this.” The young man said as he left. I chuckled as I read the note and went into the bathroom to prepare for his return.

This post has already been read 9486 times!

'Deolu Oniranu Bubble

You've read mine, its time for me to read yours!
Follow me on twitter @deolububble

0

Add comment

Luxury Lingerie Brand

Luxury Lingerie Brand

Ayboll Ads