Diary of a Wild Child: Forbidden Fruit (18+)

The thought of getting my dick sucked while doing bench press has been on my mind for a while. My mind is wild. I remember a time when a guest gave me head while I was busy at work.

OMO!!! You guys will say I’ve started again. I’ve actually been resisting temptation lately. Oluwa shanu, na money I dey find, not coochie.

But let me tell you about this thing they call the forbidden fruit. In this context, I had something that morally upright people would probably describe as taboo.

Grab a seat and soak up this gist.

I met Madam J at a club. Thick woman. The kind of woman who knows exactly what she’s bringing to the table and isn’t shy about it.

One small detail: she was dating my boss.

Now, before you start judging me, let me tell you how it happened.

From the moment we met, I could tell she was attracted to me. She flirted, threw in a few suggestive comments and eventually got my contact. Before long, we were exchanging messages and the conversations became increasingly naughty.

Whenever we crossed paths at the club, the chemistry was difficult to ignore. She would get close, rub against me and remind me that there was something she wanted to explore.

And me? Omo, I was interested.

I knew she was dating my boss. That part wasn’t lost on me. But there’s something about knowing you shouldn’t do something that makes the temptation even louder.

One day, she asked what I was doing that week. I told her, and she invited me to meet her at a hotel in Egbeda.

Apparently, she wanted to show me what a thick body could do.

Now, my mind was doing two different things. One part of me was asking, “Guy, are you sure about this?” The other part was already packing its bags for Egbeda.

I won’t lie. I was excited. There was a little fear, yes, but the thrill was doing a better job of convincing me than common sense.

On the agreed day, I got into a cab and headed to Egbeda. When I arrived, I called her, and she gave me the room number.

I walked into the hotel, told the receptionist who I was there to see, and someone led me to her room.

Madam J opened the door wearing a bubu. No bra, no panties. Let’s just say the outfit wasn’t doing much to hide what was underneath.
Her backside looked even fuller than it had at the club, and her breasts were something else.

She welcomed me in and offered me whiskey and malt. Apparently, she wanted to make sure I had something to fall back on in case I tapped out.

At that point, I knew this wasn’t going to be an ordinary visit.

I took a swing of the whiskey. This woman unbuckled my belt like someone who had paid for a short time, pulled it down and got straight to business. I was lost in the moment, but I had to pause her for a kiss.

In my head, I was thinking: no small talk, no pretending to be innocent like what we were about to do was some kind of taboo.

Her body was soft, her lips juicy. I squeezed her butt cheeks, wetin no good? Dick hard AF, I pushed her onto the bed and went down on her. Omo, the taste, the smell, the way she responded to every touch. I took my time exploring her, and she moaned out loud as I introduced my fingers. This thickiana was something else.

I enjoyed every bit of it. She came twice from the attention I gave her and eventually told me to chill because she wanted to taste me. She called me a bad boy. I gave her that familiar smirk.

Omo, this woman knew how to keep me busy. When she was done, she climbed on top of me and rode me like she had something to prove. I was trying not to finish too quickly.

I eventually took control, had another swing of whiskey and changed positions. I started slowly, teasing her and paying attention to her reactions. Then I picked up the pace.

I was in the zone. The intensity kept building, and she screamed, “I love your dick!”

This woman was driving me nuts.

She turned around, and we switched positions again. If you see a gym bro training legs, ladies, avoid him. That bro is dangerous.

The energy in the room changed. She was getting overwhelmed, and I could tell she was close to letting go. I encouraged her to relax, but she kept resisting. Eventually, she let go. I was satisfied watching her lose herself in the moment. A little more, and she was there again.

I told her, “Now it’s my turn.”

I was enjoying every bit of our session. The chemistry, the energy, the way she responded to me it was all part of the experience. I could feel myself getting closer.

I told her I was about to cum. She said, “Cum for me.”

A few more strokes and I came hard. Thank goodness I wore a condom. She drained me of my cum.

After everything, we didn’t go our separate ways immediately. We left together, and the story didn’t end at the hotel. We even had sex at her workplace.

Yes, her workplace.

Now, you would think that doing all this with someone dating your boss would come with some serious emotional gymnastics. Maybe guilt. Maybe paranoia. Maybe sleepless nights wondering if the whole thing would come back to bite me.

But honestly? I was unbothered.

My boss never found out, and nothing between us changed. My relationship with Madam J didn’t suddenly become complicated either. At least, not from my end.

She was genuinely interested in me. In fact, she told me that my boss wasn’t satisfying her cravings. I guess she had decided to look elsewhere for what she felt she was missing.

And apparently, I was on the menu.

Looking back, the interesting part isn’t even that I went after someone who was dating my boss. It’s how casually I approached the whole situation. I knew the circumstances, understood the risk, and still went ahead.

Maybe that’s the thing about temptation: sometimes, you don’t need convincing. You just need an opportunity.

Anyway, I’m not here to preach morality. I’m only telling you what happened.

Some fruits are forbidden for a reason. Some people still want a taste.

And on this particular occasion, I wasn’t exactly behaving like a man who had come to the garden to admire the trees.

Welcome back to the Diary of a Wild Child.

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