“Yes! Yes!! You are my master!” she cried, voice breaking as another orgasm ripped through her.
That was all I needed, and with a deep, animalistic groan, I buried myself to the hilt and exploded inside her, flooding her womb with thick, hot spurts of cum as her pussy milked every drop out of me.
Right from that rainy evening, Kofo became my dirty little secret. Every day after my lodge mates had bought their fufu, she would sneak into my room. The moment the door locked behind her, we would fuck like wild animals, raw, desperate, and savage.
She couldn’t tell anyone. I had begged her, lied to her that I had a serious girlfriend in the same lodge, so we kept our filthy affair hidden.
I bought her fufu every single day, even when I didn’t need it, just so I could have an excuse to see her. But the real addiction was her body. Kofo’s ass was something else, a massive, heavy mountain of flesh that shook violently every time I pounded her from behind.
Thank God for my long, thick dick. If not, her enormous cheeks would have completely swallowed me whole.
She always started by sucking me first, worshipping my length with her mouth like she was addicted to it. “Na this your long thing dey drive me crazy,” she said one evening before swallowing me deep.
During those moments, I forgot everything: the strong smell of fufu that clung to her skin, the dandruff in her rough braids, the sweat from hawking all day under the sun. None of it mattered.
I would bend her over and slam into her soaked pussy doggy-style almost every evening, pounding that fat, jiggling ass until her knees buckled.
But things started getting dangerous. My lodge mates began suspecting. Then one Saturday morning during our usual boys’ gist, one guy jokingly brought it up: “Wetin dey happen? The fufu seller dey enter one particular room and disappear like ghost these days o.”
The whole lodge erupted in laughter. Then Jare turned on me. “Dayo, you dey fuck Kofo abi? No lie!”
My heart slammed against my ribs. Worst timing ever, my lodge crush, Tinuke, my very beautiful neighbour, was just a few feet away, washing clothes and clearly listening. I swore with heaven and earth.
“Me? Fuck that dirty fufu girl? God forbid! She’s too local, too dirty. I can’t even stand her smell!” I went overboard, degrading Kofo with every insult I could think of just to protect my reputation.
The boys kept pressing. “Ahhh! Even those loud moans and ‘pampam-pampam’ sounds wey dey comot from your room every evening? You think we’re deaf?”
I stood my ground, sweating inside. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. The only time she enters my room is when I pay her to clean it. That’s all.”
The matter died down that morning, but I knew I was now being watched. That same evening, when Kofo came around, I told her to stop coming. “People are noticing. We have to cool down for now.” She wasn’t happy, but she agreed.
Exactly one week later, I watched in shock as Kofo snuck into Jare’s room, just the same way she used to sneak into my room. What shocked me more was the fact that Jare was the same loudmouth who had stressed me the most that morning, laughing hardest at the idea of me fucking the fufu seller.
I tiptoed to his window, heart pounding with rage and disbelief. There it was, the unmistakable sound, Pah! Pah! Pah! Pah! The violent slapping of her massive ass against his groin.
Kofo was moaning shamelessly, her voice loud and dripping with pleasure. “Ahh! Your dick sweet o! Na the sweetest I don ever fuck!”
The same words she used to moan to me. I stood there frozen, listening as she praised another guy’s dick while her fat ass clapped loudly for him. Something inside me cracked. I almost wept from the mixture of anger, jealousy, and humiliation. That night, I couldn’t sleep.
A few days later, I tried to confront Kofo. She looked me dead in the eyes and said coldly. “You no dey proud of me. I hear everything wey you talk about me that morning, how dirty I am, how local I be. You think I be trash? Go fuck yourself.”
That was how I lost Kofo and her legendary big ass. I could barely even look at Jare afterward.
Back in the bus, the journey continued with heavy sexual tension until the bus finally stopped. The short, thick lady beside me, the one who had been teasing me with her exposed thighs, stood up to alight.
Her destination was the town just before my final destination. She leaned close to my ear, her warm breath brushing my skin, and whispered seductively: “My name is Banke. Ask of Banke, Aunty Tailor if you decide to visit Ifo.”
Then she squeezed past me, deliberately wiggling her large, fat ass right in front of my face. Suddenly, she “slipped” and dropped her entire heavy, soft ass straight onto my painfully erect cock, grinding on it for a split second before springing up with fake innocence.
“Ah! Sorry o!” she said with a mischievous smile, then continued squeezing through until she was out of the bus.
My dick throbbed violently in my pants. Banke the tailor. I was definitely going to find her and punish that fat pussy until she begged.
When we finally reached the last bus stop, everyone started climbing down. I searched frantically for the fair lady with the massive ass and red lips — the one who had flashed her wet pussy at me earlier. But she was gone.
Vanished like smoke. How did she disappear so fast? I thought, scanning the small dusty park. The town was tiny.
Before my one-week visit ended, I would find her… or at least track down Banke in the next town and fuck the tease out of her.
I turned to the driver to ask for directions to my grandmother’s house. That was when everything shattered. “There is no such place here o,” the old driver said, frowning. My stomach dropped.
“Who you dey find sef?” he asked. I told him my grandmother’s name, how she sold moimoi, and that she was the most popular moimoi seller in the whole of Gbagi. The man shook his head slowly.
“There are only two popular moimoi sellers in this town, and I know both of them very well. I’ve been driving this route for thirty-eight years. I know everybody. None of them matches your description.”
My hands fell to my sides. Cold dread washed over me.
“Wait… did you say Gbagi in Alimi?” the driver suddenly asked.
“Yes, sir. Gbagi in Alimi,” I replied.
The old man stared at me for a long second, then shook his head again, this time with pity. “My son… You are in Amili, not Alimi.”
My head spun. “Which one is Amili and which one is Alimi?” I quickly pulled out my phone with shaking hands, opened the message with the address, and froze. I had boarded the wrong bus. I was never supposed to be in Amili.
I was supposed to board a bus to Alimi, not Amili.
The driver looked at me seriously and lowered his voice: “You better find a more convincing story, young man. Because the vigilante men in this community won’t buy this one. This town has been going through a lot lately. A stranger with a shaky story… they don’t take it lightly with you here o.”
That was when the driver told me about the notorious thief terrorising Amili. My blood ran cold. I suddenly remembered the heated conversation on the bus. Two men had been arguing whether the thief was a human or some kind of spirit. Others joined in with their own terrifying stories.
Even the fine lady I had been lusting after, the one with the massive ass and red lips, she had spoken up too.
Her voice was soft and melodious, almost like she was singing, even while complaining bitterly about how the thief had burgled her beauty salon a few days earlier, stealing almost everything.
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling then. While she was angry and frustrated, all I could think about was how sweet that same voice would sound moaning and screaming my name as I pounded her fat ass from behind, making those heavy cheeks clap violently.
Another woman had shared how the thief nearly emptied her entire provision store while she was away the previous month.
The stories painted a picture of a ghost-like figure who struck every single night with impunity.
“How can one person be terrorising an entire community like this?” I thought. These people didn’t seem serious about catching him.
The old driver looked at me with concern. “You sure you no wan follow me go back? The city is safer. This place… e get as e be for now.”
I stood there, mind racing. I had boarded the wrong bus because Amili and Alimi sounded almost identical.
What kind of foolish naming was that? Now I was stuck in a remote village gripped by fear of a nightly thief, and any stranger would instantly be suspected.
But then I remembered another conversation from the bus. The community was expecting an official from a government ministry coming to inspect land for a proposed huge power project.
People were excited, talking about the huge compensation they would receive if their land was selected.
The devil in me woke up immediately. The driver had said the journey from Amili to Alimi would take many hours. Spending the night here suddenly seemed like the smarter play. Just one night, I thought.
Pretend to be the government inspector, enjoy the fair reception, then disappear quietly tomorrow morning before anyone gets suspicious.
My mind flashed to the thick, fair lady from the bus, her juicy ass, the way she deliberately bent over and showed me her wet, plump pussy, what if I met her again that night and she gave me that fat ass and pussy before I got out of the town the following morning. For a split second, my cock twitched at the memory. But I quickly shut it down. Not now, Dayo. This is not the time to think with your dick.
I made my decision. “I’ll stay,” I told the driver.
He shook his head slowly. “Be very careful, my son. This town is not smiling.”
He waited a while longer, but only two men boarded for the return trip. At around 6 PM, I watched the bus drive off, leaving me standing alone in the dusty park as darkness began to creep in.
The moment the taillights disappeared, the bad guy inside me took over completely. First things first, get something to eat, find a place to sleep, and stick to one story. I’m Dotun, the government inspector from the ministry.
Dotun, you’re impersonating a government official, one voice warned. If they catch you, you go rot in jail. Another voice answered coldly: at least jail is better than being lynched tonight as the village thief. I was hungry and thirsty. I stopped a young boy and asked for the nearest canteen. He pointed down the road.
As I walked, the atmosphere grew heavier. Eyes followed me from every kiosk and store. Conversations died instantly the moment I passed. People stared openly, suspicious, hostile, curious. The weight of their gaze pressed on my back like knives.
I finally reached the canteen and stepped inside. When the woman came out from the back, my eyes nearly bulged. Her hips were ridiculous, wide, powerful, and carrying an enormous, fat ass that made both Banke the tailor and the lady from the bus look normal.
This seemed to be the speciality of women in this part: dangerously massive behinds.
She wasn’t old, just a young, thick girl with bleached skin that made her look older than she probably was, her body overflowing with soft, heavy flesh.
She stared at me the same way everyone else had. In a small community like this, strangers stood out like blood in water.
I ordered amala, ewedu, and ponmo…..
Written by Tito
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