Unzipped: Dayo, The Village Champion (Season 3, Chapter 4] (18+)

I held my breath, straining to distinguish the storm’s sounds from something else—footsteps, perhaps, or a door moving in the distance. Nothing followed. Slowly, Sally turned back towards me; her eyes were already swollen.

I watched her. Part of me wondered whether this was genuine regret. Another part remembered how quickly she had moved from tears to laughter, from confession to casual amusement.

Was she finally confronting her choices, or was she simply trying to make me feel sorry for her? I couldn’t tell. And that uncertainty frightened me more than I wanted to admit.

I wasn’t grieving for myself. Whatever I had done, I would have to live with it. I thought about Afeez, his trust, and the future he imagined with a woman who kept an entire part of her life from him.

But I was also thinking about the terrible position I had placed myself in. How was I supposed to look my friend in the eyes now? How could I listen to him talk about Sally, smile at his plans for their future, and pretend I knew nothing?

The rain continued to hammer against the windows. Then came the distant sound of a vehicle passing through the flooded street. I froze. For a brief moment, I pictured the front door opening, Afeez’s footsteps approaching the house, his hand reaching for the handle.

My heart began to pound. Every passing minute brought us closer to a possible reckoning, and neither of us could predict what would happen if he returned.

Sally’s sobs grew louder. She covered her face with both hands, her shoulders trembling. I should have moved away.

I should have gotten up, put some distance between us, and forced myself to confront what we had done. Instead, I remained where I was. I simply wanted to feel close to her again.

Whatever the reason, I reached for her. “Sally…”

She lowered her hands. For a moment, our eyes met. “Please,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to do.” Sally’s eyes widened with hungry appreciation.

I had no answer for her. I knew what she was asking without needing to hear the rest. I also knew that this was the moment when I could still choose to stop. I drew her towards me, and she rested against my chest. I could feel the uneven rhythm of her breathing gradually settle.

Outside, the storm raged on, turning the world beyond the window into a blur of darkness and rain.

Then she lifted her face towards mine. I hesitated. I knew I should have stopped her. I knew that whatever comfort I thought I could offer her would only complicate an already terrible situation.

But I didn’t stop. We drew closer, seeking refuge in each other from the thoughts neither of us wanted to face. Our lips met, and the questions I had been asking her only moments earlier began to dissolve into a dangerous silence.

At first, the kiss was tentative, almost uncertain. She responded, and the fragile distance between us disappeared.

My hand rested against her cheek; she closed her eyes, and for a few seconds the questions, the guilt, and the image of Afeez seemed to recede into the background. The kiss deepened.

Sally let out a soft, thrilled chuckle. She grabbed my face with both hands and crashed her mouth against mine. The soft kiss turned feral, tongues twisting, lips sucking. Hotter and wetter than before. Pure need this time.

She pulled me down slowly with her as she lay flat on her back in the centre of the bed, dark hair fanned across the white pillow.

She spread her thick, smooth thighs wide for me, knees falling open shamelessly, bent and drawn up toward her chest, folding her body somewhat in half.

My eyes caught her thick, meaty pussy, gaping at me. My breath hitched; I watched, unable to look away.

I ran two fingers along her slit. She was still embarrassingly soaked, hot, slippery and dripping. I wondered how she had managed to keep herself wet all through the conversation, or if she had gotten wet immediately when we started again.

The moment I circled her swollen clit, her hips jerked and more wetness flooded my fingers. She gripped my sides hard, humming desperate little sounds of approval directly into my ear.

Her small hand trailed down and wrapped around my thick shaft. She squeezed gently, stroking once, and whispered shakily against my ear, “You’re so… so fucking big…”

I didn’t respond; guilt has a way of surviving even the strongest distractions. My hands hooked under her knees; I lifted her legs and folded them upward slowly—higher, until her thighs pressed against her belly and her knees framed her face.

Her body opened completely to me in that vulnerable, almost obscene way. Hips tilted skyward, sex glistening and flushed, every secret inch exposed. She let out a small, involuntary sound, half laugh, half sigh.

I parted her plump pussy lips with the fat head of my cock and pushed forward. Inch by thick inch, I split her dripping cunt open, hot, blunt and impatient.

The angle was merciless. One hard, deliberate thrust buried me to the hilt in a single brutal stroke, full force. I just went in deeper than seemed possible, until my base kissed her outer lips.

Her walls stretched obscenely around me, eyes rolled back. A sharp gasp tore from her throat. Her head thrashed left and right on the pillow.

One hand clawed at the bedsheets, the other pressed flat against my chest as if trying to push me away and pull me deeper at the same time. I held still for a few heartbeats, buried to the hilt inside her pulsing heat, letting her adjust to being so filled.

My withdrawal was a cruel tease; her pussy clenching desperately, I pulled out slowly, almost all the way until only the swollen head remained inside her. Then I shot back in, harder, deeper. Another choked gasp escaped her.

She coughed, body shuddering violently beneath me. Before she could catch her breath, I pulled back almost to the tip and slammed home again, Sally’s back arched off the mattress as much as the position allowed, a sharp cry tearing from her throat.

I started thrusting, slow at first, but deep and deliberate, each stroke dragging along every sensitive inch inside her. The wet, filthy sounds of her soaked pussy swallowing my cock filled the room, but we couldn’t stop.

Then I moved faster, harder, hips snapping with enough power to jolt her whole body forward. Setting a punishing rhythm that made the headboard thud against the wall in time with her heartbeat.

The more I fucked her, the wetter and louder she became. Her hips started rolling up to meet me, thick ass bouncing softly against the mattress with every thrust. Each thrust sent deep, fresh impact through her spine.

Her teeth rattled, her breasts bounced wildly, as I continued to stretch her wide around my thickness.

Her moans kept slipping out, desperate, breathy, broken sounds she desperately tried to swallow. Beyond the room walls, the rain kept falling. Afeez was out there. He still trusted us. And I had no idea how much time we had left before that trust came crashing down around us.

“Jeeezzz… Jeeezzz…Jeeeezz—” Sally’s voice cracked, half plea, half demand.

I didn’t slow down. My hands gripped the backs of her thighs tighter, fingers digging into soft flesh as I used her folded legs as leverage to drive deeper with every snap of my hips. Each thrust bottomed out with a wet slap of skin on skin, the angle forcing her against that swollen front wall over and over until sparks exploded behind her eyes.

Her inner muscles clenched around me helplessly, trying to hold me, but i was relentless—pulling out just enough to make her feel the drag, then pounding back in so hard her whole body rocked beneath me.

Sweat slicked my chest where it pressed against the undersides of her thighs.

My breathing came in harsh grunts now, raw and animal. I leaned heavier, folding her further, practically pinning her knees to her shoulders as I fucked into her with short, brutal strokes, fast enough that the friction built into a burning edge, deep enough that she felt me in places she didn’t know could take this much.

Her hands scrambled, nails raking down my arms, then clutching at my shoulders, then fisting the sheets as the pleasure turned sharp and overwhelming.

Every thrust shoved a fresh moan out of her; she couldn’t hold them back anymore. Her clit throbbed untouched, swollen apparently from the constant grind of pubic bone slamming against it, but it was the relentless pressure that had her spiralling.

She could only whimper, head thrashing side to side on the pillow. Her thighs trembled violently against my chest; her core fluttered and clenched in frantic pulses. Her orgasm came without warning, violent and blinding.

Sally screamed out loud, gasping my name, as she came, walls spasming so hard around me it dragged a guttural curse from my throat. Her whole body seized, hips jerking uselessly in the tight confines of the position as wave after wave ripped through her.

I didn’t stop. I fucked her through her orgasm harder, chasing my own edge with ragged, desperate thrusts. The wet sounds of our bodies colliding filled the room, obscene and perfect.

When I finally finished, it was with a low, broken groan; my hips slammed forward one last time as I buried myself as deep as I could and pulsed inside her, hot and thick, filling her until it leaked out around me. I stayed locked there, chest heaving, forehead pressed to hers while her legs slowly unfolded, trembling.

As Sally dressed up, I watched her quietly from the bed. She seemed eager to leave, as though getting out of that room would somehow erase everything that had happened between us. She adjusted her clothes, checked her phone, and occasionally glanced in my direction.

I couldn’t tell whether she was ashamed, worried, or simply eager to return to the comfortable lie she had built around herself.

But as I watched her, an idea began to form in my mind. If Sally thought she was the only one who knew how to play games, perhaps it was time she discovered that she wasn’t the smartest person in the room.

“Sally.”

She looked up from her phone. “What’s it?”

“I want to ask you for something.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What again, Dayo?”

I sat up against the headboard. “I want you to arrange something for me with Angela.”

She paused. “Arrange what?”

I held her gaze.

“I want to sleep with Angela.”

For a moment, she looked as though she hadn’t heard me properly. Then her expression changed. “Wait. What did you just say?”

“You heard me.”

She dropped the clothes she had been holding onto the bed. “You want to sleep with me, and you also want to sleep with my best friend?”

Her hands began moving animatedly as she spoke. Her voice rose, and I noticed the tension in her face.

I almost smiled. So, she did have boundaries after all. Or perhaps she simply didn’t like the idea of another woman receiving the same attention she did.

“Why are you getting worked up?” I asked casually. “I’m only asking you to talk to her.”

“Talk to her about what, Dayo? That you want to sleep with her?”

“Exactly.”

She stared at me in disbelief. “Angela is in a serious relationship.”

I nearly laughed. A serious relationship, my foot. The phrase sounded particularly amusing coming from Sally, considering everything I had just learned about her own understanding of commitment.

Written by Tito

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