I felt schizophrenic. One second we would be happily bitching about homework or whatever, and the next second I was trying to hide the erection that sprang up whenever one of my girls stretched out and yawned. It was humiliating.
The fact that I mainly hung out with girls also started a rumour that I was gay, which made it even more difficult to convince other chicks I wanted to date them.
By the time Valentine’s Day rolled around, I didn’t even bother finding a date. Chioma and I were lazily watching TV in her room, killing time for a few hours before the Valentine’s party she was throwing. Then, without warning, she suddenly got very anxious, nervously fidgeting with the random stuff on her nightstand. I asked her what was going on and she hurriedly blurted out, “I’ve gotta go downstairs for a second. Just stay here, okay?”
I crossed my heart and sat alone in that room for ten long minutes, wondering what the hell was going on. Unable to keep still, I got up and paced (a nervous habit of mine), only to glance out the window, where I noticed that Chioma wasn’t alone in her driveway. Which meant that all five girls were downstairs…
Suddenly, a hilarious song started blasting from outside the room. The door swung open to reveal my Valentine’s Day present: a parade of goddesses.
Kike entered first in a t-shirt about ten sizes too small for her. It clung to her skin like paint, those sizeable breasts tugging up the majority of the fabric to expose her sexy, toned stomach. Below, she wore nothing but a white pantties, which she showed off by sensuously twirling around, slowly rocking the globes of her firm, practically bare ass from side to side in front of my shocked face. Damn. She really was a talented dancer.
Behind her was Chioma, dressed in a black lace corset and frilly black underwear. Her breasts jutted out proudly from within semi-transparent lace cups, hinting at the darkness of her erect nipples. She raised her knee and placed one black stiletto heel on my thigh, holding my gaze with her incredible, hypnotic eyes. Then she scratched her nails across her thighs, My mouth hung open with desire. Chioma smirked at my reaction, unable to stay in character for even a second longer.
Zainab strode inside the room, dressed in pink bikini bottoms and a matching pink top. The stretchy fabric clung enticingly to her huge, braless boobs, which were only half covered by the fabric.
There couldn’t have been more than a millimetre between her exposed cleavage and the two perky nipples denting the fabric of her top. She shook her chest deliberately in time with the music, so I felt no shame in openly staring at those epic, jiggling breasts.
Then, with a bit of timidity, Sandra followed her friends, utterly sidelining me with the amount of skin she had chosen to reveal for me. She was dressed as an angel–white wings flaring out behind her. The only clothes on her body were some frilly white panties and a matching white bra holding her enormous bosom on proud display.
Stunning as she was, the fact that shy Sandra trusted me enough to do this was almost more gratifying than the titillation of the whole fashion show. I held her eyes with mine, letting my smile tell her that I thought she was incredible.
I knew what was coming next, and I wasn’t disappointed: Nneka sashayed into the room, the big finale, dressed in a cave-girl bikini. The outfit was a joke, to be sure, but it nonetheless revealed more of Nneka’s unbelievable body than my eyes had ever seen before.
She stalked slowly towards me with her long, smooth legs. Her breasts were almost bare: mountains of soft flesh swelled outwards in all directions, and an impossible line of cleavage stared at me where the skimpy top squeezed those breasts together.
She leaned over me, her boobs swinging back and forth from the movement. Nneka traced a finger down my chest, scratching a bit with her fingernail. She must’ve been able to feel my heart beating away like a drum.
An evil smile crossed her face, and she kissed me–full on the lips. I was on fire, brain swimming with arousal. She backed away, holding my gaze like a snake charmer. Before I knew it, she was replaced with Kike, who also kissed me, her lips tasting of sweet fruit.
Then came Chioma, who slipped me a bit of tongue and left me with a wink. Zainab actually straddled my lap and sat there with a smile, waiting for me to take the initiative. I did, enjoying the lip gloss she had worn for the occasion. Emboldened, I reached down and gave her ass a playful squeeze–and she did the same to me.
Then, at last, came Sandra, looking nervous about her kiss. The other girls encouraged her, and she moved in close—but stopped at the last second, staring at me with those beautiful eyes. Reassuring, I gently wrapped my arms around her and whispered in her ear, “It’s okay if you don’t want to kiss me, you’ve already given me a wonderful Valentine’s Day.”
Somehow, that made up her mind, and Sandra grabbed hold of my face and furiously started frenching me. She was wild, her kisses impatient and inexperienced, but also incredibly passionate. Her enormous, bra-clad breasts squashed against my chest, and she moaned into my mouth.
It was by far the hottest moment of the day. After all the visual stimulation of the last few minutes, the surprise of Sandra’s passionate kissing practically pushed me over the edge. Then, as suddenly as she had started, she stopped. Pleased with herself, she backed away from me, sighing, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
I gave them a standing ovation. Then, realising they were all giggling at my outrageous erection, I changed it to a sitting ovation. Mission complete, the girls went downstairs and changed back into their party clothes. My poor penis was more confused than ever.
Later that night, I got Sandra alone for a minute and told her how surprised I was that she had gone along with everyone’s plan. After all, she usually shied away from flaunting her body like the others. Her good mood suddenly soured. Without a word, she turned on her heel and made a beeline for the exit.
“Wait!” I chased after her, “What did I say?” My words had clearly hurt her for some reason, and I was determined to make it better. Frustrated, Sandra started walking home in a huff.
“Don’t leave!” I shouted. She stopped, took a deep breath, and turned angrily back towards me.
“I’m not some sweet goody-good girl prude, you know,” she pouted, “I want to act fun and sexy and stuff just as much as everyone else! I do have hormones, you know! I’m sick of all the girls always treating me like their super-innocent kid sister. Zainab and Nneka have barely gone further with a boy than I have, and they still talk to me like a child because I don’t dress like I’m in a rap video.”
I took a step towards her, smirking, “Zainab, I don’t think you’re a child. The angel who walked into that room earlier today with those beautiful big boobs of yours was ALL woman.”
She smiled at my response, suddenly self-conscious about her little outburst. “It’s nothing you said, it’s just starting to really get on my nerves the way the other girls tease me. I’m sorry I took it out on you.”
I held out my hand to lead her back to the party. “And I’m sorry, I just assumed the other girls had to put you up to that fashion show. I should have known better when you started kissing me like that.”
Sandra said: “I have never French kissed a boy before, so I figured, what the hell? You’ve gotten pretty cute, and I knew it wasn’t gonna go anywhere.”
There was something about the way she said those final few words that crushed my spirits. She sounded so damned certain! She “knew” it wasn’t gonna go anywhere? Why couldn’t it go anywhere? What had started off as one of the hottest nights of my young life suddenly felt very cold.
A few weeks later, I encountered what was, by far, the worst side-effect of my new social circle. I had spent the last several months fending off constant requests from every asshole in campus who wanted me to hook him up with one of my friends.
Football players who had been mocking me less than a year ago were suddenly buddying up to me, sometimes even trying to bribe me if I would help them nail a girl. I couldn’t blame these guys for trying, but I refused to take part in their idiotic attempts at conquest with five people I legitimately cared about. Give a mouse a cookie, I figured.
When one of the girls actually liked a guy, I always got out of their way, but my unilateral refusal to aid and abet those fools didn’t make me any friends.
Quite the opposite, unfortunately.
On my walk home from school, I was ambushed by no less than five guys on the football team whom I had refused to help out with. The worst of the bunch was the team captain, Gbenga. Everyone in school knew he had raped a fresher last year, but she was too ashamed to ever admit it to the police.
As far as I knew, his friends had never gone quite that far, but they were backing him up, which made them just as bad in my book.
I had hated all of them since i got admission. I even fantasize about somehow miraculously attaining spiderman level powers and beating the shit out of the whole group while my classmates cheered me on. But no matter how many times you see it in movies, one guy just can’t hold his own against half a dozen.
At least I didn’t make it easy on them. Gbenga went home with a black eye, and when one of his friends tried to grab me, I stomped on the guy’s hand and broke a finger. But nobody would say I won the fight. I spent the better part of a week in the hospital.
Still, karma got the better of my attackers in the end. One of Gbenga’s genius friends had filmed the whole attack on his phone, everyone’s face on clear display. He then uploaded it on social media, generating a serious backlash.
By the end of the next day, the police had a copy of that tape, and my five assailants were going to jail for assault. I didn’t have to do anything.
My week in the hospital was made a bit less miserable by having five hot girls as my best friends. There was an endless stream of cards and care packages, plenty of good company, and that one time Zainab showed up after visiting hours…
I was due to leave the following morning, and feeling pretty decent aside from a few lingering aches and pains that were keeping me up at night. I had my own room thanks to a bit of lucky musical chairs with other patients being escorted around, which meant plenty of peace but also a fair amount of boredom.
I was just about to try for some sleep when the door opened and a nurse walked in to check on me. A nurse with big breasts bulging under her uniform.
Zainab gave me a quick wave, stifling a giggle at my shocked expression. “I know you’re kind of an insomniac, so I figured you must be bored out of your mind after we all go home. Figured I’d sneak in and visit you.”
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