June 27, 2022

Average Joe: Zainab & Her Toys (18+)

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Average Joe: Zainab & Her Toys (18+)

The delicious aroma of onion and garlic simmering away in butter filled my nostrils as soon as I opened the door to my apartment. I smiled to myself. I loved it when Zainab came over unannounced.

“Hey, Babe,” I called, as I disgorged the contents of my pockets on the side table.

“Lawal!” Zainab beamed, skipping around the corner from the kitchen and throwing her arms around me.

She pressed her body hard up against mine and buried her head in my chest. I closed my arms around her, feeling her slender frame, and enjoying the delicate contours of her back through her red spaghetti strap singlet.

I kissed the top of her head and inhaled the tropical scent of her shampoo – coconut and something sweet I couldn’t identify.

She craned up to face me, the strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail falling off the sides of her black-framed glasses. I swallowed her smile in a soft kiss on her lips. “I wasn’t expecting you until Saturday night.” I couldn’t hide the delight from my tone.

“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to see you. You don’t mind, do you?” Her lips curled in a cute, little pout.

“Of course not,” I replied, brushing a wayward strand from her forehead.

“You don’t regret giving me a key?” Her eyes hopefully crested the rim of her glasses.

“No way,” I breathed, bending down to rub her nose with mine.

Zainab hummed a positive response and turned back to the kitchen. I let my eyes fall to her ass as she padded away across the floor. Below that powder red singlet, her seductive curves were clad in nothing but a tiny pair of white cotton panties.

I exhaled deeply, savouring the vision.

“So what are you cooking?” I asked as I rounded the other side of the kitchen bench.

“Just spaghetti. Nothing fancy.” Zainab shot me a sweet smile over her shoulder, then returned her attention to the pot on the stove.

“Smells good,” I encouraged. I lingered a moment, enjoying the view, then announced, “I’ll just get changed quickly.”

“No rush,” she said, reaching for another ingredient to add to her concoction. “It’s still got to boil another half hour or so. I haven’t put the pasta on yet.”

Leaving her to it, I slipped into my bedroom and hung my jacket up in the wardrobe, followed by my blue and white striped tie and my belt. It had been a hell of a day, and I didn’t feel like another one-legged flamingo dance to get my shoes off. I scuffed over to my bed and sat down.

As I did, something hard dug painfully into my left buttock.

“What the…” I complained to myself, moved towards the foot of the bed and flicked back the embroidered cream toy.

A deep pink vibrator lay on the white sheet, its metallic inlay glinting in the overhead light. I immediately recognised it as the vibrator I had bought Zainab for Valentine’s Day. There was no mistaking the thumbs-up I got from the clitoral stimulator.

We were old friends, forever bonded from that first awkward moment in the adult shop, where the intrusively helpful sales assistant had shoved me in front of the LELO display and not let me leave without one.

Credit where credit’s due, however, he was right on the money.

I petted the wrinkled sheet around the toy. It was still damp. Holding my fingers to my nose, I could smell the strong earthy scent of Zainab’s pussy. I picked up the vibrator and sniffed at it, detecting the same heady aroma.

“Zainab?” I called, cradling the vibrator in my lap.

I heard the sound of a wooden spoon being laid on the porcelain spoon-rest by the stove, then saw Zainab appear in the corridor a few seconds later. She stood by the door, biting her bottom lip. Her tight singlet clung to her body, her nipples jutting out from atop her perky breasts.

Unfortunately, her wringing hands disrupted the view of her white cotton panties.

I sat there looking at her. The muffled sound of the television in the next room wafted through the door, but couldn’t mask the sound of her breathing. I held up the vibrator. “What’s this?” I said evenly.

She dipped her gaze, not answering me. Her breath was ragged, and I had to fight to control my own. My heart pounded with anticipation, but I held my ground, held the silence. It was a game. Whoever spoke first: lost.

“I’m sorry, Lawal,” she whispered.

I fought the grin with every fibre of my being. Then in my best patronising tone, “Sorry for what, Zainab?”

“I’m sorry I used the toy you bought me,” she rasped. “I know I’m not allowed to use it without you. But I promise,” She looked up hoping for a second. “I didn’t come.”

“Hmm,” I pondered with a tilt of my head. Turning away, I patted the enormous wet spot on the sheet. I heard Zainab gasp as I did. When I turned back, she was again staring at the floor.

When she did finally look up, I patted my lap. She didn’t answer me. Instead, she scuffed at the polished floor with her bare toe and did whatever she could not to make eye contact.

“But, Lawal…”

“Zainab, that’s enough,” I said softly. “You know you’ve been a naughty girl.” My tone became more serious. “Naughty girls need to be punished.”

Zainab closed her eyes, her mouth falling open with a loud sigh. The thick strand of hair that fell down her face swayed in her breath. Tentatively, she crept forward towards me, still wringing her hands. When she reached me, she put one knee up on the bed beside me and began to bend over me.

“Uh-uh,” I stopped her. “You can have a bare bottom spanking.”

Zainab whimpered as she stepped back off the bed, paused a moment, almost testing my resolve. Then resigned, she hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties and began tugging them down over her hips.

There is nothing sexier than the sight of a beautiful woman peeling off her panties.

I was in awe. The waistband stretched around her curves, collapsing the white cotton into a thin horizontal line across her pussy. Her cute little muff of dark pubic hair came into view, followed by the seductive hint of her pussy lips, then finally that gorgeous little gap between the tops of her thighs.

As she pushed the thin white line down her legs, I kept staring at her pussy, my cock throbbing in my lap. The glimpse of her folds disappeared when she got her panties past her knees, bending over to step out of them. It was then I noticed her breasts in my field of vision, straining against the tight singlet. Her nipples looked painfully hard.

Leaving her panties in a puddle on the rug, Zainab stood up straight and looked into my eyes. Her lips were curled ever so slightly in the beginnings of a wicked smirk, her hands by her sides, gently brushing the outside of her thighs. There was an unsteadiness in her breath, her body language betraying her excitement.

The sight of my girlfriend standing there in nothing but a singlet and a sloppy ponytail had my heart racing. I could hear my own breath hitching. I was aroused, to be sure, and it was certainly clouding my judgement. I could not take my eyes off her.

Eventually, I broke the trance by patting my lap again. She swallowed, then climbed up onto the bed once more, slowly laying across my lap. Her left hip pressed firmly into my aching cock as she settled into position. Her upper body was flat on the bed, with her chin resting on her forearms.

I placed my left hand on the small of her back, my thumb hooking under the hem of her singlet. Then I laid my right hand gently on that perfect ass in my lap.

My hand spanned across both her luscious cheeks, delighting in the silky smoothness of her skin and the softness of her flesh. I couldn’t help but caress her naked backside for a moment. I gently squeezed as I circled my hand around, my cock twitching agonisingly as I went.

I shook myself free from the glorious sensation of the pressure of her hip bone against my member, then raised my right hand from her ass. Zainab held her breath. We both did.

I brought my hand down hard on her left cheek. My palm stung with the blow, the sharp crack giving way to Zainab’s surprised scream, then mewling whimpers. Her body convulsed in muffled gasps.

I raised my hand again. Her soft flesh was already reddening from the strike. Bringing my hand down once more, this time spanking her right cheek with a stinging crack. She cried out, the startled pain giving way to an aroused moan. And then again, I raised my hand.

I rained down smack after smack, alternating between each of her pinking cheeks. My palm tingled wildly as I lifted it in the air, and my cock throbbed more so against her hip. I ended up spanking her about a dozen times on each cheek.

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Written by
Dr. Deolu Oniranu-Bubble


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