Lekan’s voice snapped me from my deep thoughts. “Immediately after Baale married that lady, he chased away his three other wives. She controls that old man like a toy; he would do anything she says.” Lekan paused again to greet another person.
He was indeed popular, raising one hand after another to return greetings, stopping every few meters to shake hands with people who called his name. I was grateful he had never noticed the bus driver.
If he had, he probably would have stopped to exchange pleasantries, and everything could have unravelled right there.
“People say she sleeps with young men in other towns and in the city whenever she travels to visit her parents”, he stopped as if he suddenly realised he was talking too much. “Only God knows best jare.”
The moment Lekan talked about the Baale’s youngest wife’s affair with younger men, something pricked me. I was guilty,
I’d fucked her mercilessly that morning too. It meant there were other guys before me. One thing I’d come to understand about Amili was that most of the women were just horny. A town filled with women who just wanted to fuck.
I’d seen it in their eyes; wherever we stopped that afternoon, I’d noticed the way the women and ladies looked at me. I could easily tell what was going on in their head from their flirtatious look. Sometimes I got uncomfortable and looked away quickly.
They all looked like they were sex starved. Sexy looking women with bodies that screamed wild, raw fuck, married to men old enough to be their ancestors.
When we finally arrived at the joint, the owner, a short, bald man with a heavy potbelly and aggressive tribal marks carved across his face, welcomed us with loud enthusiasm.
The moment Lekan introduced me as the government inspector, the man yelled in delight and gave me the same exaggerated honorary reception I had been receiving since the scam began.
He even brought out his biggest, most tender piece of bush meat and declared it was free for me. Another man quickly offered to pay for my palm wine.
I accepted everything with a heavy heart. The presence of the bus driver earlier had rattled me more than I wanted to admit. Too many thoughts crowded my head for me to enjoy the rich, spicy pepper soup or the sharp palm wine.
Every car engine, every raised voice near the entrance made me jerk slightly in my seat. My eyes kept scanning the doorway, half-expecting the driver to walk in.
Two young men joined our table. One of them arrived with his girlfriend. The moment she stepped in, something shifted in the air.
She was living proof that there was something exceptional about the women of this region with mountainous behinds and glorious breasts. She was even prettier than the Baale’s fourth wife, light-skinned, full red lips, dark eyebrows, and long natural lashes.
Her ass was perfectly rounded, shapelier and controlled than Aduke’s and Jumoke’s combined. She was an absolute vision of perfection, gorgeously dressed in a buba and iro that hugged and displayed every dangerous curve.
But then one deeper look at her face, however, struck me harder than her body. I had seen this woman before.
Lekan called her name with open admiration. Abeni. The name did not ring a bell, but the certainty that we had met before refused to leave me.
I tried to rack my brain around every possible place I might have seen Abeni, but I couldn’t come up with any possible place. School, city where? Her local dress gave her that typical village look that made it difficult to imagine her as a city girl.
At first, she didn’t look at me. It wasn’t long before I realised she was also stealing glances at me. Then our eyes met, and it happened again and again and continued that way a couple of times.
Like she knew me from somewhere. I had that strong feeling that we had met somewhere before! Finally, someone would recognise me. The thoughts unsettled me as they crept in.
One of the men raised the topic of the thief. The three locals launched into a heated debate. Lekan and one of the others strongly believed the thief was not an indigene or resident of Amili, they believed no son of the soil would commit such terrible acts.
The other man, the one who had brought Abeni, insisted the thief was an indigene of Amili and that he lived among them; that was why he operated without fear.
The argument went on for a long time. I remained silent, listening, already planning how I would surprise them by catching the real culprit.
Yet even as they argued, a part of my mind stayed fixed on Abeni. I stole glances at her beautiful face as we ate and drank.
The feeling that I had seen her face somewhere before kept striking me like a persistent itch.
After a while, Abeni’s boyfriend, Tade, stood up and left with her. As they walked out, one of the men teased him loudly about handling her properly on the bed.
Laughter erupted around the table. My eyes followed Abeni’s ass as she moved. That gigantic, perfectly shaped backside seemed to have a life of its own, swaying and bouncing behind her with heavy, rhythmic power, as if it owned her body rather than the other way around.
When they were gone, Lekan leaned toward me. “Abeni and Tade are preparing to get married soon.”
I didn’t know why he told me; Lekan had a way of observing things, maybe he saw the way we were stealing glances at each other, the same way he’d noticed me and Aduke’s hidden exchange.
I smiled and wished them a happy married life. Deep down, I could not stop thinking about her. I was certain I’d seen her somewhere away from Amili. The recognition made me deeply uncomfortable.
It was almost dark when we finally left the joint. After the bush meat and palm wine, we set out for the guesthouse. This time I noticed Lekan was heading toward the same route where I had seen the bus driver earlier.
Even though it was darker now, my heart clenched. I immediately launched into a rapid, forced conversation to keep Lekan’s attention away from the road.
As we drew closer, the bus was no longer there. The spot was empty. Only I understood the enormous, silent sigh of relief that left my body as we rode past the place where the driver had stood staring at me earlier that afternoon.
The danger had passed… for now. But the night was still young, and Amili still held its secrets and its threats tightly in its fist.
On our way back to the guesthouse, we stopped at Lekan’s house, where he got the whistle for me. Even as he handed the small item to me with a torch, I still saw that mock look written all over his face like he felt it was a total waste of time. I didn’t blame he didn’t know half of what I was capable of.
As we continued the ride to the guesthouse, we met Jumoke, Aduke’s sister. She was walking alone along the darkening road. Lekan slowed the bike and called out, asking where she was headed.
She explained she was going home and could not find any commercial bike because it was already past the curfew time the town had agreed on because of the thief. Since we were heading in the same direction, Lekan offered to drop her off.
The moment he made the offer, a vivid memory slammed into me: the night he had carried Aduke and me on this same bike, and what Aduke had done to me in the dark. My pulse quickened.
I climbed down to let Jumoke board first. I watched her carefully as she swung one leg over the bike. Her thick ass cheeks parted slightly under the thin silk gown, the soft flesh spreading as she settled onto the seat.
I climbed on behind her. Instantly, her soft, heavy backside pressed firmly against my pelvis. My cock began to harden almost immediately.
I tried to control myself. I tried to distract myself and think of the escape plan, the money under the bed, the bus driver, the thief. None of it worked. The softness of her ass alone was too much.
Her wide hips filled the space between my open legs. Every bounce of the bike pressed her deeper against me. I couldn’t stop imagining what she would look like on all fours.
Jumoke and Lekan talked casually about the curfew while I battled a stubborn, painful erection.
Then, without warning, Jumoke lifted herself slightly and sat back down, directly onto my hard cock, exactly the way her sister had done that night. I choked.
A few things began to make sense in my head. The knowing looks in the canteen had not been accidents and coincidence. Jumoke knew everything.
She had either seen us that morning, or Aduke had told her, and she wanted the same thing.
My cock throbbed violently under her weight. The bike hit a series of potholes, and she exaggerated every bounce, letting her soft, fat ass slam down hard against me. It felt like a deliberate reenactment.
The same bike. The same darkness. The same calculated grinding. She continued speaking to Lekan about a trip she planned for the following morning, her voice perfectly normal, as if nothing was happening.
At one point, I could no longer hold back. I gripped her sides, steadying her and pressing her down harder onto my erection. Jumoke leaned back, resting her head against my neck. Lekan continued talking, completely unaware, his words lost in the wind and the engine.
My hands slid upward and cupped her breasts through the thin gown. She didn’t object; instead her body shook, and then she stilled. Her breasts were firm, her nipples already hard against my palms.
Another deep pothole sent her rising and landing heavily on my cock. She pulled the gown up and bunched it at her waist, allowing the heat of her pussy, separated only by thin panties, to press directly against me.
The heat was intoxicating. Knowing I was only fabric away from entering her made my head spin.
She kept talking to Lekan about errands for her mother later that night, her voice steady while her body betrayed pure intent. I was gone. Completely lost. I wanted to free my cock and let her sink onto it right there in the darkness.
Lekan was riding fast. No one would see. I grabbed a handful of her thick ass and squeezed. She pushed back harder against my chest, then turned her head slightly and pressed her lips close to my ear.
The wind and the roar of the bike made the words hard to catch at first. Then they landed clearly: “I saw it all this morning.”
I nearly lost control. I squeezed her breasts harder and forced her ass down onto my throbbing cock. So she had watched, she had stood there, seen everything between her sister and me, then left and walked in as if she had just arrived. Or Aduke had told her every detail of the earlier bike seduction.
My arousal reached a dangerous peak. I no longer cared that she was Aduke’s sister. I wanted to fuck her right there on the moving bike. Just then, Lekan began to slow down. We had reached the guesthouse.
Disappointment hit me like a physical blow. One more minute and I would have been buried inside her. Jumoke eased herself off my pelvis with deliberate slowness and smiled as I climbed down.
“Good night,” she whispered.
I managed to reply, then watched Lekan ride off with Jumoke to her house. She never looked back. I stood there in the dark outside the guesthouse, cock still painfully hard; the lingering warmth of her body burned into my skin.
I waited and watched in the darkness as Jumoke climbed down from the bike just a few meters away from where I stood. Suddenly I found myself hoping the night would unfold exactly as it had with Aduke—that Jumoke would sneak back later for the real thing.
And if she did… I would fuck her like it was the only reason I had been born.
Lekan rode back to where I stood. I reminded him about our plan for the thief that night. He told me he would go home and prepare for the night’s security work.
Before he left, I repeated my instructions carefully: where to hide near the Baale’s house, and what to do if he heard my whistle call. He nodded, still half-amused by my seriousness; he rode off into the night.
After Lekan left, I walked around the guest house to a spot where I had earlier noticed a heap of thick, heavy timber.
They had probably been piled there for construction purposes. I pulled one of the thicker pieces from the heap. It was so heavy that I could barely lift it with one hand.
“This would do”, I said to myself as I made my way back toward the guesthouse’s main door with the wood.
In the lobby, I met the receptionist and collected my key.
He mentioned that one of the girls from the Chief’s house had come earlier to pick up a food flask, but he had told her to check back later. Instantly my mind flew to the money under the bed.
For a split second, cold fear gripped me—until I remembered why I had given him the key in the first place. If he had stolen anything, he would not still be standing here smiling. He was protecting my room so no one could point fingers at him.
I slipped two thousand naira into his hand. He accepted it with a wide, grateful smile. His eyes fell on the thick piece of wood I was carrying.
“What do you want to use that for, sir?”
Written by Tito
Buy Oniranu Books on Selar.co from anywhere in the world
This post has already been read 1581 times!
