The moment he stepped inside, Esan abandoned all pride. He dropped to his knees before Ann. It wasn’t about dignity anymore; now it was about survival, to plead for the job he had fought so hard to secure after more than three long years of fruitless searching.
He was only trying to protect his livelihood. His words tumbled out in a rush as he recounted the events of that fateful day that had sparked their animosity.
Esan explained that he hadn’t intended to humiliate her that day; he confessed that he simply hadn’t had any money on him at the time. The entire outing, he revealed, had been paid for by a close friend, who had quietly covered both his expenses and hers.
Fear of public embarrassment at the guesthouse had driven him to act the way he did, and for that, he was truly sorry.
Esan went further, making promises he would not have imagined uttering under different circumstances. He swore her secret was safe with him, assured her of his loyalty, and even declared his willingness to sacrifice a portion of his salary if that was what it would take to mend the broken trust between them.
Through it all, Ann remained eerily silent. Her eyes never shifted from the laptop screen before her….. Though she gave the appearance of being engrossed in whatever played out on her device—possibly a film, Esan could sense she was absorbing every word he spoke.
When at last his pleas came to an end, she finally responded, her tone calm yet unreadable. She told him he could leave, adding that she would reflect on his apology and get back to him in due time.
Esan rose slowly, uncertain whether he had bought himself mercy or merely postponed inevitable torment. As he walked out of her office, the tension lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating, like a storm cloud refusing to break.
The days turned into weeks, and Ann’s resentment for Esan swelled like a fever she could not sweat out, even after that grand apology he had made in her office that afternoon. It wasn’t just about what had happened between them that morning; he could feel it in his bones. She wasn’t only angry at being outsmarted—she was terrified.
Her throne at the office rested on a secret no one else knew. To the others, she was a queen, untouchable, striding through corridors with clipped heels and clipped words. But he knew the other Ann, the one who sold her nights.
She wanted him gone before he slipped and let the truth spill to the wrong ears. He had cheated her once—swindled her, she would say, though Joe had paid her in full. Her greed was the real thief. Still, Esan felt the noose tightening around his neck. He had to do something before she made good on her silent threats.
Joyce, the firm’s accountant, watched this storm build from her own desk. The nature of her job usually kept her detached from her colleagues, but the air around Ann and Esan was too charged to ignore. She noticed the clipped tone Ann reserved only for him, the icy glances that froze mid-conversation whenever he entered a room.
Then came the incident of the delayed salary.
Ann had instructed Joyce to withhold and delay Esan’s salary. Joyce, who wasn’t comfortable with the instruction, demanded to know why she was given such instruction. Ann lied; she told Joyce it was because Esan did not submit a certain report.
Joyce frowned. “Report? Audit cleared him last week.” She told Ann she had checked with the auditor herself and he had confirmed Esan should be paid.
Ann snapped, knowing she had been caught in the middle of a lie, she stormed out of Joyce’s office.
That was when concern turned into curiosity. Joyce sought Esan out in his office. “Esan,” Joyce said gently, almost conspiratorially, “what’s going on between you and Ann? Did something happen?”
He looked up, startled, and for a moment the wall in his eyes cracked. But then he shook his head, a weary smile flickering. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
That was the end of it—for him. But not for Joyce.
Over the next days, Joyce began orbiting him, her presence deliberate and lingering. Joyce appeared at his office door with a steaming meal from her own kitchen, laughing off his protests. Sometimes she leaned against his desk, exposing a considerable amount of her breasts.
“Don’t tell me you’re walking again,” she said one evening, dangling her car keys with a teasing smile. “Come, I’ll drop you off.”
She was everywhere, bright smiles in corridors, soft touches on his shoulder, long gazes that felt too heavy to be just friendship. Slowly, she became his closest ally, the only one who softened the hard edges of his workdays.
At first, he thought it was just persistence, a way to pry loose Ann’s secret from him. But one evening, catching her stare linger on his mouth longer than it should have, he began to wonder.
Was Joyce… tripping?
The answer came indirectly, one Friday night, at the club. When Nathan and James, his colleagues at work, had suggested hitting the city’s most popular club.
The lounge that night was heaving when they walked in. Music from the speakers rattled the floor, neon lights strobing across the smoky air. James leaned close, shouting over the music as they downed their third shots of rum.
“Guy, forget Miss Ann matter for one night!” James laughed, wiping his mouth. “Tell me, how far Joyce? We know something’s cooking!”
Nathan chimed in, raising his glass. “It’s true, Esan, we see the way she hovers around you.” Nathan, slapped him on the back with a grin. “Guy, that woman wan fuck you oh.”
Esan nearly choked on his drink. “Abeg, stop that nonsense. She’s married with two kids.”
“Married, yes, kids, yes,” Nathan said, lowering his voice. “But husband no dey town. You know wetin that one mean. She go need man to service her steady.”
“God forbid,” Esan muttered, pushing his glass aside.
James ordered another round of drink for the three of them, then Nathan ordered another too and soon, they were staggering toward the heart of the club, pulled by the rhythm. The place was alive with chaos.
Half-naked girls spinning around poles, hips grinding on strangers, the acrid smoke of cigarettes mixing with the sweet stink of weed and sweat. A group of men in one corner sprayed cash into the air while women clawed at the notes like vultures.
The DJ slammed hit after hit, the hypeman’s voice tearing through the speakers, hyping the crowd into frenzy.
Esan felt it immediately, the eyes of women, and the heat of bodies pressing close. Tall, dark, and sharp in his fitted shirt, he looked like money even if his account was a wasteland. He didn’t need to try; they came to him.
One in particular caught his attention. She was his type, curvy, with hips that promised trouble and breasts that strained against the top of her skimpy gown. Not as thick as Ann, but enough to stir something primal in him.
She wasted no time pressing her ass against his groin, grinding in rhythm with the music, her perfume cutting through the haze of alcohol.
Esan’s hands found her hips, gripping firm as his body responded. Heat pooled low in his belly. She arched her back suddenly, slapping her ass against him in quick, hard bursts, like she was riding him through layers of clothes. His cock throbbed painfully against his zipper.
“Damn…” he hissed under his breath. He leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear. “You dey do… special service?”
The girl’s smile flashed like a secret. She didn’t answer. She just took his hand, weaving through the crowd, pulling him along.
Esan’s pulse quickened. They slipped past the bar, through a side corridor where the music softened into a muffled thump. She led him down a narrow passage, the lights dimming with every step, until they reached a shadowed corner beneath a staircase.
The air was warmer here, heavier with the scent of sweat and sex. Esan’s eyes adjusted and froze. On a worn couch against the wall, a man lounged with a woman straddling his lap. She bounced in rhythm, her head thrown back, the man’s hands locked tight on her hips.
The wet slap of their flesh against each other was unmistakable, echoing beneath the staircase, mixing with her muffled moans. His dick hardened.
The negotiation was swift, almost mechanical and soon they agreed on a price, which included the price for a blowjob. Esan sighed, his pulse already hammering, his body too far gone to argue. He reached into his pocket and counted the notes into her waiting hand, the deal sealed.
Ann was the last woman he had fucked, and everything that came with that affair had been negative. First his girlfriend had broken up with him, and now he was going through hell in the hands of Ann at the office. He was tired of pretending like everything was fine and ok, like he was strong and didn’t need a woman in his life. Ever since Mercy left him, he had been all by himself, dealing with loneliness and the hurt of heartbreak alone. This night he wanted to feel like a man again.
The lady quickly got on her knees and undid his belt buckle immediately; she eased down his pants along with his boxers in one fast drag. His erection throbbed painfully; his cock stood erect in response to her call to duty.
Esan stood before her with his thick, erect dick, like a kid showing off his new toy. Her eyes widened at the size of him, her lips parting unconsciously. He took her hand and wrapped it around him. The weight and heat of him made her thighs squeeze together. “God…” she muttered under her breath.
Then she spat on his cock, Esan groaned, watching her, his cock throbbing as she began to stroke him. He pushed closer. “Put it in your mouth… please.”
She hesitated, cheeks flushed. Then slowly, she leaned forward, her lips brushing the tip before parting to take him in her mouth. Esan let out a sharp breath, his hand instinctively gripping the back of her head.
She continued to stroke him gently slurping, licking and sucking on it, slobbering all over his stiff cock. It had her mouth stretched into a good O shape and she bobbed her head back and forth, saliva trailing down from her mouth. Esan reached out and had one of her tits in his right hand massaging it whilst every now and again pulling on her nipples. He knew that drove her wild by the sounds of appreciation coming from her cock stuffed mouth.
She began to squeeze his balls, making Esan moan and hump his hips forward, causing his cock slide even further into her mouth and she gagged.
He shifted his hand and held her head by gripping her hair and holding it steady as he started to face fuck her, making the gagging sounds get really loud as she struggled to take his cock being shoved forcefully down her throat. Saliva and snots were dribbling freely down onto his big balls and coating them till it dripped.
Then she pulled her mouth and stood slowly, she reached into her small clutch and pulled out a foil packet, pressing it into his palm. Esan tore it open with his teeth, sliding the condom down his length. His twitching dick straining against the thin layer of latex.
The girl didn’t waste time. She turned around, bracing herself against a small table shoved into the corner. The dim light caught the sheen of her skin as she rolled her gown up past her waist.
Her ass spilled out like something sculpted for music videos, full and heavy, jiggling even with the smallest movement. The g-string disappeared into the curve of her flesh, a thin line against her dark skin. With practised ease, she hooked her fingers on the strap and slid it aside, exposing herself without ceremony.
Esan positioned himself behind her, his hands gripping her hips with a force that bordered on brutality. There was no preamble, no softening of the moment—he thrust into her forcefully, his dominance on full display.
Heat enveloped him instantly, tight and wet. She gasped but didn’t look back, her hands flat on the table, long fixed nails scratching the wood as she pushed against him. He began to move his hips, thrusting into her deeply.
Her face remained impassive, her features unreadable as he drove into her with harsh powerful strokes.
Esan’s thrusts were deep and unrelenting. At first, she didn’t react, didn’t arch her back or moan. Her stillness only served to highlight his intensity. Her detachment was almost unnerving, as if his size and force were nothing new to her, just another body in a long line of bodies.
But Esan didn’t seem to care; his focus was singular, his need raw and unfiltered, and their bodies moving in sync despite her lack of participation. But deep down he was determined to show her he was a boss too.
He picked pace and began to power fuck her, he was ramming into her as hard as he could ever remember.
He fucked her good and hard, exerting all the bitterness and frustration of the past few months in every thrust, until she began panting and moaning, begging him to take it easy.
Written by Tito
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