June 19, 2024

Edymaniac: Confessions of Lagos Runs Guy (Part 15)[18+]


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Edymaniac: Confessions of Lagos Runs Guy (Part 15)[18+]

“Why are you acting like this night is over, Honey? We can go again. I would love to fuck you this time if you want. We can be a little wild.”

“I think I would love that, just like I always did. I let it slip my mind that you’re so young. And virile.” She let her fingers tickle my chest and I sucked in my breath sharply. And my cock began to stir. I was virile. At 28, I should be.

“Honey, I am up for you. I want you.” I kissed her tenderly and reached for her right breast, massaging it in my left hand. “I’m going to make you feel as good as you ever have felt in your life.”

We kissed, over and over. More and more passionately, moving together as if we were long-term lovers. Soon I was hard again, and Omotola’s eyes went wide open from a feeling of joy. “Do you need some lubricant this time, Honey? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No, surprisingly I don’t. Between your mouth before, your first orgasm, and how turned on I am, I feel like I’m soaked. Do you mind if I’m on top? I love being in charge, at least to start.”

I kissed her once more. “We can get into any position you like, Honey. Come ride me at your own pace.”

“Oh, I’m going to fuck you as hard as I can.” Her tone was wicked and playful as she moved on top of me, straddling my groin. I held my cock upright as she lowered her pussy down. She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw as I filled her moist pussy completely.

She wasn’t all that tight, but she could shift forward and put pressure on the base of my cock. Before long she was moving as hard as she could, her hips rising and falling, her ass slapping on my thighs.

“Oh my God, Kayode! You feel amazing! Grab my breasts and don’t be gentle about it!” I did as she ordered, roughly massaging both her bouncing breasts, using my thumbs to toy with her pulsing nipples.

Omotola bit her lower lip and closed her eyes as she concentrated on the old, familiar feelings she hadn’t experienced in years. She didn’t ignore me and my needs either. As she kept moving her hips, she leaned down and licked all over my nipples, getting an occasional hair on her tongue. The woman was a very giving lover.

We went like that for a while, moving together with a good rhythm, and I could sense her getting close. Her breath was coming shorter, her moans were getting raspy. I held her by her hips and I carefully turned us over so she was on her back.

My cock slipped out for a few seconds, but she grabbed me and pulled me right back inside her. She raised her right leg onto my left shoulder so I could get as deep as possible, and after a couple of minutes of sweaty, vigorous screwing, Omotola grabbed my biceps and cried out

“Fuck me, I’m cumming!” I slammed into her as hard as I dared (I did worry just a little about hurting her) as she reached her peak.

“Cum for me, Honey! Cum all over my cock!” I throbbed inside her. Then she surprised me by slapping my ass a few times, hard slaps.

“Cum with me, Baby! Cum in me!” The slaps put me over the top and I lunged in deep as my cock twitched with each pulse of my orgasm, my third of the night. It was great, an intense climax with one of the best women I had ever been with.

And she was in her 70s. It goes to show, that sex is primarily about attitude.

I eased myself off of her body and laid next to Omotola while she again sought the shelter of my arms, which I shared gladly. I really felt affectionate towards her. It wasn’t only because of sex; she was a great lady. “That was something else, Omotola. I enjoyed that as much as you did.” I kissed her head.

“Oh, I highly doubt that. I should have done this a couple of years ago. I wasted so much time. You really made this old lady feel wonderful.”

“Hey, you are NOT an “old lady”, Honey. You’re old-er. You’re only as old as you feel, and there’s no way you’re feeling old these days. You were a great partner.”

“And you’re a very fine young-er man.” We both laughed and from there on, we just talked lightly. She let me take a shower in her very comfortable bathroom and she sat with me while I got dressed.

Before I left, I sat next to her on her bed, where she was wearing a long, silk robe. I took Omotola’s hand and said “I hope you’ll call on me again while you’re feeling able. I know that sounds like I’m trying to solicit more business for me, but it is more than that. I enjoyed the evening.

If you want, we could even go to dinner one night before coming back here. But even if you don’t, would you mind if I called you some time just to see how you’re feeling? I like you personally. I care about how you’re doing.”

Her kind eyes were a little wet.

“Kayode, I wish my son, Oskar, was more like you. I’m not talking about sex. I mean like a man. He’s 48 and we don’t talk at all. He doesn’t even know I’m sick. He expected his father and I to support him while living as a playboy. We stopped when he was 35. We had a bitter fight, then another when his father died. His dad wrote him out of his will, and Oskar was counting on his inheritance. Now, I’m sure he’s waiting for me to die, to collect. But he’s in for a surprise. He’ll get a small amount, and the rest will go to various charities.”

She cried a little, the first time she did so in my presence, and I wrapped my left arm around her. “You’re a much better man than he is.”

I didn’t know what to say. I just comforted her and let her be sad for a time. Eventually, she escorted me downstairs to her door. “I would be pleased if you called me, Kayode. You have such a good heart. And I hope I’m still feeling up to another appointment in a few weeks. This has been the best day I’ve had in months. Maybe years.”

I kissed her, very tenderly. “You’re a wonderful lady, Omotola. But may I make a suggestion? Call Oskar. Try to bury your pain. He’s still your son, and you should make some peace with him if you can. Don’t die with this hurt in your heart, not if you can do something about it. If he treats you poorly, well, then that’s on him. Your time is short, Honey. Just try. That’s what I think, for whatever that’s worth.”

She touched my cheek with her slender fingers. “I’ll think about it, Kayode. It’s the best I can do.” We kissed and said goodbye, and I went home, feeling both good and sad for her. Omotola deserved much better than the pain she was going through in her soul.

We saw each other once more as a sexual arrangement. Afterwards, she told me she did reach out to Oskar through her lawyer, but he wanted nothing to do with her. At least she tried. By the time I called her a month later, Omotola was feeling the effects of her illness.

I just went to her apartment to visit and keep her company half a dozen times; I even took her to lunch once (though she really couldn’t eat much) and each time it was obvious she was deteriorating. She appreciated my visits. It helped her take her mind off the inevitable.

Then two weeks after our last visit, I got a call from her lawyer, informing me that Omotola died two days before. I knew it was coming, but it hit me hard. I don’t know why exactly I formed such a warm connection with her. You can’t always explain why some people become friends. Omotola and I were friends, though, and I went to her funeral the next day. Her son was there, seemingly unaffected by his mother’s death.

Maybe he just came for his inheritance. But she left the bulk of her fortune to various charities, and she left Oskar a token 1 million Naira. And to me, she left 20 million Naira. Her lawyer, at the probate meeting, told me she told him I was a great comfort to her in her last months.

I was shocked, and honestly, I didn’t want her money, not like that. I would have greatly preferred for Omotola to be alive and well. I split those millions up among the charities she favoured. It was my way of honouring a wonderful woman.


That Sunday morning, after the first time I met Omotola, I met Ginika to rent a couple of bicycles near Lagos Island and we spent a couple of hours biking around the park at a nice, leisurely pace. We rode mostly side by side so we could talk as we rode.

It was good exercise but not intensive; instead, it was relaxing and fun. When we were done, we went for breakfast and then to my apartment at Richmond Gate Estate. I bought it two years previous. Two bedrooms, two baths, living room, small dining room and a kitchen (of course). It was spacious and came with all modern appliances. Before I took this job, I never dreamed of being able to afford such a place.

Ginika and I showered together, which, as you might suspect, took a lot longer than showering individually would have taken. We had a lot of fun soaping each other up all over, every nook and cranny. She was shorter than I am, which gave her a good angle for giving me head, but I had to crouch down to do the Bisie for her.

I licked her all around while my hands kept sliding all over her small breasts, gliding thanks to the soap. Her eyes watched me, and I stuck out my tongue as far as I could so she could see me lapping at her lips and her clit. She held onto the safety bars while she ground her pussy down hard on my tongue and chin.

After she came, I stood up, kissing her very warm body along the way. “I can’t believe how much I enjoy sex with you, Kayode. No one’s ever been able to do that for me before. I think I’m still shaking!”

We kissed hungrily; I didn’t cum when she sucked me and she wasn’t done yet. We still wanted to screw each other, so Ginika turned away from me, grabbed one of the bars again, and presented her soft ass to me. “You make such an inviting target, you sexy girl. I’m almost tempted to fuck your nice round ass instead.” I gave her a light spank and we both laughed.

“Maybe some other time when I’m feeling more adventurous. I’m still learning to enjoy you in my pussy. Which you need to do already!” This time she spanked herself, a little harder than I did, and I stepped closer and pressed the head of my cock to her lips before easing into her hot hole.

We both made obvious sexual sounds as my cock slipped inside her, and we quickly found our rhythm. Slow and easy became moderate and pleasurable became hard and exquisite. I thrust hard and reached around her hips to tease her clit, and Ginika pulled on her nipples. Her pussy was spasming all around my cock, causing me to erupt inside her, which brought her off with me. Just awesome.

After enjoying the afterglow, I helped Ginika stand up straight and she turned to me to kiss me. “You’re doing the most amazing things to me, Kayode. I can’t believe what I’ve been missing all this time.” She pressed the side of her face to my chest as water kept pouring down our bodies.

I kept my arms around her, reminded of what I had been missing the last few years. “You’re doing great things to me as well. And I enjoy your company. But I think we should take the rest of this cuddle-fest to the living room after we dry off. It’s really hot in here.” We smiled as I turned the water to a lower temperature setting, so we could cool off before we stepped out.

We took our time in the living room, browsing social media to figure out what we wanted to do with the rest of the day. Ginika had brought a bag of clothes with her, enough so she could spend the night and go straight to work in the morning.

We figured if we hurried, we could make it to Hard Rock Cafe to party. With a little luck booking Bolt, we would make it just in time to get there for the beginning. It turned into a nice night of great music.

Afterwards, we just chose an eatery nearby, with a good reputation for Chinese food. Over a good dinner, we talked. And we talked and talked. We stayed at the table long after we finished dessert, lost in conversation. It felt completely natural; we even ignored the waiter giving us dirty looks to keep his table from turning over.

We walked slowly, enjoying the warm evening and the sounds of Lagos. I took her hand, and she leaned as close to me as we could get while walking. I asked her “Ginika, would you like to spend the night? I would enjoy it if you did. We might even find something fun to do before we go to sleep.” I grinned at her, showing off my perfect teeth.

She showed me hers and said “I was hoping you say that. I didn’t want to go home tonight. You do put me at ease, Kayode. I had such a nice time today.”

“So did I, Baby. One of the very best days I can remember having with a woman.” We stopped and kissed right in the middle of the walkway, people passing us by at various speeds and from both directions. Barely anyone paid us any attention. People mostly mind their business.

Later that night, after we made love, slow and sweet, we were cuddling in bed, tired and relaxed. Her fingers were playing with my chest hair, and I was tickling her butt. Nice, soft, with a perfect shape. Every so often she giggled from my touch while I sighed from hers.

“Kayode,” she said softly in the mostly dark room, “I know it’s way too soon to talk about where we’re going with this. Right now, I’m enjoying seeing you, and you’re giving me a bliss I thought I was going to have to live without. So, for right now, I’m content with this casual, comfortable thing we have. But if it continues, at some point you’re going to have to make a choice. Not now, but at some point. I’m not even asking you about my mother or to stop seeing her on Fridays. It’s weird if I think about it, so I’m trying not to think about it.”

“I appreciate you not pushing me on this, Ginika, because it is too soon. This feels great, not just the physical aspects, but the way we connect. But it’s too soon to be talking about anything long term.”

“Kayode, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“I guess it depends. I don’t know if I’m ready to answer every question you might have. I don’t think we’re quite that close yet.”

“It’s up to you. If you don’t want to, I’ll understand. You said you’ve been doing this for over three years now, right?”

“Yes, a little over three.”

“Why are you still doing it? I have an idea what a man whose clientele are all women like my mom pay for your services. She gave me a rough idea. You must have money set aside unless you’re a gambler or something. Why continue? You could use that to start any sort of life you want, any sort of business. Well, almost any.”

“I’ll answer that. First, up until now, I haven’t had anyone in my life to whom I need to be accountable. So I might as well make the money while I can. I’m only 28; it’s not like I’ll be retiring. I have to do something with my life. At one time I thought it might be a master’s degree, but I’m not so sure about it now. Opening a business can cost a lot of money and then you need funds to live off of while you pray your new business makes it. So a million is not all that much. I used to think I would do it for another three or four years. Now, I’m not so sure. I have to be in love with someone, heading for a permanent future, to quit before that.”

“Even if I could live with you doing this while we are a couple, I’ll eventually have to put my foot down about my mother. I can’t imagine she would want to keep hiring you if she knew we were together as a couple.”

“Honey, believe me, if we get to that point, I’ll have to end it with her, at the least. I think it would be too strange for all of us.” And with that slightly unsettling thought, we turned over so I spooned Ginika and we fell into a slightly troubled sleep.


Over the next month, Ginika and I continued to spend our Sundays together most weeks as well as Wednesday nights when she didn’t have to work late. I started calling my parents in Abeokuta each week, trying to work towards a rapprochement. It was an iffy situation.

I tried because of that talk I had with Omotola. I encouraged her to make peace with her son, after all. It would take time to see if we could fix things.

Sometimes one of our established clients, or a new one, would call Dami and request something… different. Like those couples that wanted to act out their cuckold fantasies. That, as I mentioned, was not my thing at all, though I did it. It came with the job. But sometimes the client wanted to relive a memory from their younger days or live out a fantasy they never had the opportunity to play.

One of my semi-regulars, Bisola “Bisi” Ibrahim, had such a request: she wanted a threesome with me and another woman. That was hardly a chore for me because she wanted Dami to supply the other woman, which meant a youngish escort. Dami had a few Madame’s she knew who had their women working for them.

Their costs, and therefore their fees, were a little higher because they had to supply physical protection for their young women whether they went to a single man’s home or were hired for a party. That could be dangerous for the women.

Anyways, Dami had an arrangement with a woman named Tana. Sometimes Dami supplied a man for Tana and sometimes Tana supplied a woman for Dami. I had done this a couple of times over the years and met a few nice young women. Very beautiful young women. And they were personable and intelligent, or Tana never would have hired them. So it was hardly going to be a chore for me.

Bisi Ibrahim requested the two of us for a Saturday night at 8, so two hours before 8 I met up with a young woman named Maryam at Tana’s office. We had to make sure she and I had some compatibility. We sat together in a small office with coffee, and we talked for a while, getting to know each other.

Maryam was a bombshell. She was about my age, about 5’4″, Ghanaian whose parents came from Tema. Busty and curvy, an amazing figure with broad buttocks, and dark eyes and black wavy hair to her shoulders. Sexy and sophisticated.

Maryam wasn’t her real name, any more than Kayode was mine. (Chiwendu and Ginika knew my real name, but I’m sticking with “Kayode” to make the narrative go easier).

I gave some information about Bisi to Maryam, so she knew what to expect. Bisi was in her early 40s, a tall, slender woman with zero fat. Long, lean legs, nice B-cup breasts, and she moved like a dancer. A real trophy wife whose husband was out of town on business half the time.

She only called for an appointment when her husband was away, so discretion was vital. I saw her once or twice a month. The contrast between the two women was pronounced. I wouldn’t be surprised if Bisi asked for someone like Maryam specifically.

We took a car over to Bisi’s mansion and talked quietly on the ride over, going through the range of possibilities, depending on what Bisi requested of us. We both had a few limitations, but you never knew what a client might want.

We were both dressed like young, well-to-do professionals on a night on the town. For me, that meant expensive jean trousers and a black jacket, no tie, and Maryam wore this form-hugging multi-coloured flowing dress that went midway down her thighs. She was wearing 4-inch heels, all very expensive. And her makeup was not subtle, a little heavy like she was going out to be seen.

Bisi met us at the door; no servants were working whenever I came over. She kissed both Maryam and me on our cheeks and guided us into her plush living room. She was also dressed as if ready for a night out clubbing.

A dark blue silk blouse unbuttoned to the beginning of her tummy, no bra (she didn’t need one), and a tight pink skirt that just hugged her bouncy ass. And black heels, three inches, that made her almost as tall as me.

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