When I got back to my apartment, I saw that I had missed a video call invitation from Omotola. She wanted to talk to me! Praying that it was good news that awaited me and not bad, I clicked respond and waited for her face to appear on my computer monitor. When it finally did, oh man, did she look beautiful. She had just gotten back from a run was still all dishevelled.
Omotola was a knockout when she got all dressed up, but there was something adorable about the way she looked when she was a sweaty mess that just melted my heart.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” I said.
“You’re an idiot,” she answered.
“I am, it’s true.”
Then, ever so slightly, she smiled at me, and my whole world lit up like a Christmas tree.
“I miss talking to you,” she sighed.
I poured out my heart to her, telling her all the million things I had wanted to over the past five days. I made sure she knew she was my life’s absolute, uncontested love.
“Alright, alright!” she finally laughed, stopping my gushy ramblings. “Listen, as long as it really was just a little harmless fooling around, and as long as you don’t go making a habit of kissing other girls behind my back, then I forgive you.”
“Thank you! When you get here I promise I am gonna make it up to you by sitting down with you and watching a dozen of those shitty old romantic comedies you love. In a row.”
Omotola’s beautiful lips curled up into a sinister smile.
“Actually, if you really want to make it up to me, take off your trousers.”
“Yeah?”
“Just shut up and do it,” she ordered, “I’ve been super horny all week.”
I was only too happy to oblige. Positioning myself in front of the camera to give her the best view possible, I slowly unbuckled my belt and unzipped my jeans. Then, without needing to be prompted, I teasingly slid my boxers down and stroked my cock until it was nice and hard for her.
We both loved to put on a show.
Omotola clapped in appreciation, her eyes filled with desire at the sight of my exposed penis. “Aww, I missed him, too,” she giggled.
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable without all those sweaty workout clothes?” I asked.
In response, Omotola quickly stripped off her shirt and her horribly constrictive jogging bra, letting her big, soft breasts bounce free. My cock gave a little lurch at the sight.
“Oh yeah, we’re gonna have to do this more often,” I moaned, clicking the “record” button on the video player.
The image on the screen only showed Omotola from the chest up, but from the motion of her arm, it was clear that she was already starting to play with herself down below. She bit her lip and let out a little sigh of pleasure.
“Are you recording this?” she asked.
“Of course, are you?”
“Of course!”
My cock flexed even harder in my hand.
“I want—I want you to tell me what she looks like,” she moaned.
“Who?”
“The girl you made out with. I bet she was really sexy.”
Omotola was rubbing herself harder now, her breathing heavy and aroused. It was kind of an awkward question, and I honestly couldn’t fathom what was going through her mind, but I decided to humor her, anyway:
“She’s one of the sexiest chicks I’ve ever seen. Adorable face, long black hair, breasts out to here…”
“Even bigger than mine?”
“Way bigger.”
“Oh, I’ll bet she was all over you. Kissing you, groping you, rubbing those great big boobs in your face. I bet you loved every second of it.
“No, it wasn’t like that—”
“Shut up,” Omotola panted, continuing her story. “I bet you pulled her shirt off and sucked on her nipples like your life depended on it. Then she reached inside your underwear and stroked your cock until you were so hard you couldn’t stand it anymore.”
The dirty talk was really getting Omotola going. I watched the image on my phone as she raised her free hand to her beautifully aroused nipples and gave them a tug. My fist eagerly closed around my cock and kept stroking as she continued:
“Then I bet you bent her over the sofa, ripped off whatever slutty underwear she was wearing, and slowly buried every inch of yourself into her slit. How did it feel? How wet was she? What was it like feeling her ass bump up against you as you bottomed out? Did you grab her breasts while you fucked her? Did you reach around and grab hold of those big boobs? Did you squeeze them as hard as you could? Did she moan for you? Did she shriek with pleasure?”
I grunted with arousal, my head spinning from the mental image my girlfriend was painting for me. Over my phone speakers, I heard the wet sounds as Omotola frantically rubbed her pussy offscreen. The motion vibrated her breasts like crazy. Her words became practically incoherent with pleasure:
“I’ll bet she—ooh—she came so hard with you inside her. I bet she woke the fucking neighbors with all her screaming. And then—oh my god—”
“Keep talking,” I moaned, already feeling my climax approaching.
“Then I’ll bet you pulled out and came all over her breasts. Just everywhere. I bet you made a fucking mess of those things. And then—and then—”
I was boiling with arousal. Every muscle tightened, preparing for release—
“And then her sexy friend came over and licked it all off.”
“Aah!” I screamed, spurting into the air in full view of the camera.
The visual of my orgasm finally pushed Omotola over the edge into her own euphoric oblivion. She sucked in powerful mouthfuls of air, shaking all over before finally—blissfully—collapsing in her chair.
“Omotola, holy shit!” I smiled, shaking my head in disbelief. “Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know, I just—all week I’ve had this image in my head of you with that other girl, and as much as I hate to say it, it’s been making me really horny! I’ve actually been fantasising about it, can you believe that? It’s crazy. Fantasising about being there, I mean. About watching. Is that weird?”
“I don’t know about ‘weird,’ but when you started talking about it—that was so damn sexy, honey. You saw me, I came in like thirty seconds.”
“Come on, that wasn’t all me. I’ll bet you’ve been thinking about fucking those two ever since you met them.”
“Well, yeah, but—just daydreaming. You know.”
Omotola smiled, now more adorably dishevelled than ever. “Ike? How about next time you start daydreaming about those girls, you give me a call and… maybe we can daydream about it together.”
When I woke up at 10 AM the next day, I was already sweating from the intense heat. I made a run for the swimming pool downstairs—this time remembering my keys and swimsuit.
Halfway inside the gate, I stopped in my tracks, utterly bowled over by the view of Ginika climbing out of the pool. She had worn a bikini this time—a skimpy one. Flimsy strips of dark blue fabric struggled to cover her bodacious body. Rivulets of water dripped down her curves as she crossed the pool area and took a seat next to Tamara, who was soaking up the morning sun in yet another of the tiniest bikinis I had ever seen.
I wasn’t sure where I stood with them at the moment. Things seemed to have chilled out between me and Tamara, but would Ginika still give me the evil eye if I said hi? Or would it be even worse if I ignored them?
Tamara saw me first, and the fact that she actually smiled at the sight of me was a huge relief. I strolled over—
Ginika was not so friendly. Her dark, lovely eyes met mine, silently ordering me to stay away. I stopped in my tracks, held up my hands in surrender, and simply told her, “You deserve someone better than me.”
She looked down questioningly at Tamara, who mouthed the words, “Talk to him.”
Ginika nodded, grabbed her towel, and grudgingly jogged over to me—throwing an inadvertent bounce into her steps.
“Ginika, I just want to say I’m sorry for—”
“The pool’s kind of a public place to have this conversation, don’t you think? Mind if we go somewhere else?”
That little voice in the back of my head warned me that going someplace alone with this girl might, once again, not be the brightest idea. But we needed to mend things and I figured the odds of anything EVER happening between us was about as likely as me ever getting into a real life warzone.
I opened the door to my apartment and led her inside.
“Geez, you settled in fast,” she said. “The last time I moved, I took like four months to get everything unpacked.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve had a lot on my mind the past few days and it’s helped me think.”
She sat down at my breakfast table, now wrapped in a fluffy beach towel that did nothing to disguise the shape of her chest… Focus, Ikenna! I distracted myself by pouring my guest a glass of orange juice. I spoke quietly:
“Look, what happened the other night—I handled that in pretty much the worst way possible. I swear I never meant to lead you on, it’s just—I wasn’t expecting you to look the way you did when you walked out in those ‘pyjamas.’ Sorry, I’m making excuses again.”
Ginika looked down at her glass of juice, thinking.
“How long have you and Omotola been together?” she said at last.
“Three years, almost.”
“Soma and I were together for four. I thought he was the one, you know? We were each other’s first.”
She looked up at me, her lip twitching down into a frown. “It wasn’t all your fault, what happened the other night. You told me you had a girlfriend. You dropped it into the conversation. That should have clued me in right there that you weren’t interested, but I just—I just needed—”
“You don’t have to explain,” I said.
“Have you ever been dumped?”
“No.”
“It fucks with your head! Things between me and Soma weren’t even BAD. They were going well. Too well, it turns out. It started to feel inevitable that we were going to wind up together. Get married, kids, happily ever after. And all of a sudden he started freaking out that he had only ever had sex with one girl. Like he was entitled to some macho right of passage, fucking all kinds of women before he was forced to settle down.”
“This guy dumped you because he liked you too much?”
“I know! What kind of sense does that make? And ever since then, I’ve been going crazy trying to figure out what the hell is going on with me. I’m not even acting like myself! I mean, look at you—I was throwing myself at you, even after you said you were in a relationship. What kind of bitch does that? I’ve never done that ever in my life.”
“Hey, I wasn’t exactly complaining.”
Fifteen minutes later, we finished making our amends and were back at the pool with Tamara, cooling down in the water. Tamara had forgiven me, Omotola had forgiven me, and now Ginika had forgiven me. Everything was finally right in the world.
If you’re interested in the Oniranu Weekend Brunch, please fill in your location below
Norway/Netherlands – Fill Norway/Netherlands Form
Canada – Fill Canadian Form
United Kingdom – Fill UK Form
United States – Fill U.S Form
Buy Oniranu Books on Selar.co from anywhere in the world
This post has already been read 12296 times!
