Aishat didn’t even bother to look back at Bunmi. Instead, she arched an eyebrow at Lekan, grinned, and pushed forward, pressing her hips into his. Lekan couldn’t resist noticing how little material was between them, and he couldn’t stop his mind from wondering if Aishat would be a good fuck. He had never done it in a chair before…
His very next thought was, “What about Bunmi?” And he hated himself for the fact that thought came second. But this was Aishat’s game. She was deliberately making him uneasy so he would blurt out an answer just to end the awkwardness.
Recognizing her ploy allowed him to regather his courage, and he countered sharply, “Well what about you? Do you masturbate?”
To Lekan’s surprise, Aishat answered without the slightest embarrassment or hesitation, “Yeah!”
Bunmi stifled a giggle, and Nneka’s eyes went wide. It could have been Lekan’s imagination, but it felt like Aishat punctuated her answer with a slight thrust of her hips. The whole time, her eyes stayed locked with his. He couldn’t resist picturing her in his mind, grinding herself to orgasm right there in his lap. He felt his cock starting to grow and press against his jeans, in turn pressing against Aishat’s inseam. Her grin widened into a triumphant sneer. Could she feel it, too?
He had to get her off his lap, or this would slip out of control. Finally, he caved, “Okay, fine. I do too. Now would you please get off me?”
She gave him another thrust of the hips, this one firm and unmistakably intentional, before lifting herself from the chair. Before Lekan could even exhale with relief, Nneka chimed in, “How long does it take?”
“How long does it take for you to make yourself cum?”
Nneka was only slightly less bold than Aishat, but these questions were ridiculous, even for them. Lekan was surprised, “Why do you girls care?”
Aishat leaned back against the back of the chair and exchanged a thoughtful look with Nneka. For a moment, they seemed to silently debate whether to answer. To both girls’ surprise, Bunmi was the one who finally spoke up, “Nneka wants to give her boyfriend a handjob.”
Nneka’s jaw dropped, and she gasped at her friend Bunmi. Nneka’s unsmiling face revealed that Bunmi was, in fact, telling the truth. Aishat just laughed to herself. Bunmi continued, “Not just any handjob… a really good one. That’s his gift,” she swallowed and took a deep breath before clarifying, “She wants to make him cum like he’s never cum before.”
A split second later, Nneka was on her feet and pillows were flying. Nneka’s voice was hysterical as she wailed on Bunmi with a throw pillow, “Bunmi!! Shut up!!”
Bunmi managed to keep her glasses on and started fighting back. She yanked the pillow out of Nneka’s hands and turned the tables on her attacker. Nneka backed up, using the pillow as a shield, but Bunmi, on the tips of her toes, leaned over the chair’s back and could still reach Nneka with her pillow.
From Lekan’s vantage point, sitting in his chair facing the back of the chair, he now had a clear view up the back of Bunmi’s short skirt. Only half-covered by plain black panties, her ass was perfect — just two slightly rounded cheeks curving out from an otherwise petite young body.
Lekan easily visualized himself yanking those panties down and banging his girlfriend’s brains out, standing up, with her bent over the couch just like that. At this point, the room was so sexually charged that Bunmi probably wouldn’t even care if Nneka and Aishat watched.
Lekan knew from experience that she was a loud fuck, but her cries of pleasure would be muffled by the chair cushions. She was also prone to passing out when cumming really hard, but on the chair, like this, it wouldn’t matter — he could hold her down and fuck her till she fainted, then finish himself off. It would be so easy, and she would love it. He wouldn’t even have to remove her skirt…
Aishat noticed, too, and she gave Lekan a knowing, devilish grin. For a moment, Lekan wondered if Aishat was visualizing the same thing. But was she visualizing Lekan banging Bunmi, or Lekan banging her like that? Right now, Lekan could go for either one — or both! Judging by Aishat’s athleticism and the way she carried herself, it would probably require a lot of stamina to handle her.
She seemed like the type of girl who would fuck relentlessly and wouldn’t stop until she was completely satisfied — a difficult but tempting challenge. His cock was growing larger by the second just thinking about it. But, of course, it was only a fantasy, because he would never cheat on his girlfriend.
Aishat’s eyes darted briefly down Lekan’s body then back up again. Her grin grew wider, and she folded her arms across her chest, seemingly oblivious to the pillow fight going on right beside her. Meanwhile, Nneka’s anger melted into giddy laughter as the pillow fight degenerated into an unflattering scramble.
Still trying to reach over the chair, Bunmi lost her balance and tumbled, face first, over the chair Laughing the whole way down, she landed among the seat and twisted onto her back to keep fighting. Nneka took advantage and tackled Bunmi, pinning her on the couch.
“Oh you’re in trouble now! This is what you get!”
With Bunmi pinned on her back, Nneka started tickling. It was a totally unfair match. Nneka was at least way taller and heavier than the petite Bunmi. Indeed, although Nneka was only 18, she almost had the body of a tall, adult woman. And now with Nneka’s thighs firmly straddling Bunmi’s upper body, Bunmi had no hope of escape. She needed backup. Between laughs and gasps for breath, she called out for Lekan.
Lekan eagerly jumped to his feet, not only to help Bunmi, but also to join this playful fight between two sexy young girls. He almost made it, too, before Aishat blindsided him. Apparently, she had decided to side with Nneka. Laughing girlishly, she tackled him from the side just as he reached the couch.
With Aishat’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist, Lekan lost his balance, and his momentum carried them both over the back of the chair in a frenetic repeat of Bunmi’s earlier tumble. Wrestling as they fell, they managed to miss Nneka and Bunmi and roll right off the couch onto the floor.
Aishat ended up on top, straddling Lekan’s chest, with one knee pinning his shoulder to the carpet. She quickly pinned down his other shoulder — first with her hands, then, after shifting her hips, with her other knee. Lekan strained to sit up, but Aishat was stronger and heavier than she looked. He could feel the toned muscles in her legs twitching and flexing to balance herself and hold him down.
As he struggled beneath her, she smiled and taunted him, “Oh no you don’t. First, you have to answer the question!”
Nneka kept tickling, and Bunmi laughed so frantically that tears ran down her cheeks. She gasped desperately, “Lekan!! Help! Ah! Ah! — Help!”
Taken by surprise and dizzy from the fall, Lekan could only think about getting to Bunmi. He looked up at Aishat in bewilderment, “What!? What question?”
Lekan kept struggling, but it was no use. Aishat leaned forward slightly and crossed her ankles on his stomach. She now had him in a perfect pin, and he would have to lift her entire body weight to escape. Revelling in her position of power, Aishat spoke slowly to prolong the ordeal, “Nneka asked… How long does it take… for you… to cum?”
Aishat punctuated her question by planting her hands on the carpet on either side of Lekan’s head. This seemed familiar. Indeed, once again, just like in the chair earlier, she was on top of him, staring down at him with hungry eyes and a devilish grin — except now she smelled faintly of sweat and panted slightly from exertion, her breath barely reaching his face as he strained beneath her.
Around the rim of her forehead, a few errant hairs hung down messily, having escaped from her tight brunette ponytail during the scuffle. Her legging had also bunched and twisted a bit during the fall, or perhaps it had been pulled down slightly, now revealing about two inches of her smooth, fit abdomen. Lekan could now see a slight V-shaped crease between toned muscles tracing the upper crests of her hips.
His eyes instinctively followed the crease as it traced a diagonal line from high on her slender waist and down into her legging. He fought the urge to yank down that elastic band just to see the base of that beautiful V.
Rather than answer the embarrassing question, Lekan kept struggling. Aishat’s smile simply grew bigger, until she cut it short by playfully biting her lower lip. Then she looked over her shoulder, lifted a thoughtful finger to her lips, and mused aloud, “Or perhaps we should just find out for ourselves…”
Once again, Lekan felt his cock swelling, and he was sure that Aishat could see the bulge. To make matters worse, Nneka turned to look, too. Still tickling Bunmi, she laughed and taunted, “Yeah, Lekan! Tell us! Do you last more or less than three minutes? I bet it’s less!”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” said Aishat, twisting to get a better look at Lekan’s pants. She started to slide one hand slowly down the front of his shirt, straight toward the bulge in his jeans. Her eyes glazed over slightly, and her voice started to sound distant, “I bet he could go for a long, long time.”
As Aishat’s fingers approached the edge of Lekan’s belt, he felt an electrifying combination of eagerness and fear. His brain told him that it would be cheating and that Aishat was nothing but trouble, but he couldn’t resist aching for her touch.
Her hand continued down his stomach at an agonizing crawl, causing his muscles to twitch and shiver, as if signalling her to hurry. In response, she slowed down even more. When her palm finally reached his belly button, his hips pushed involuntarily, barely dipping her fingertips into his jeans.
But she stopped there, less than one inch away… She stopped to gently brush a single, warm finger back-and-forth across his skin under the elastic band of his underwear. And there she waited, teasing silently.
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