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Discuss the hunt for sexual gratification, using at least two poems that were studied in this course. (ENG 111) INTRODUCTION TO POETRY.

UDE, Chiedozie Orji.



Non-African poetry, just as the name suggests, is poetry written by poets who come from other continents apart from Africa. These poems often talk about different things, depending on the particular genre the poem in question falls into. By genre here, we mean the type of poem. For example, a lyric poem may talk about love while an elegy, most certainly, will talk about death. The study of these poems is undoubtedly crucial to this course because these poems aid us students in knowing poems that are written by outsiders, and by extension, we know the ways of life of these outsiders by analyzing the thematic contents of these poems.

Of course, the non-African poems treated in this course have a lot in common. Chief of these things have to be the recurring theme of the destructive tendencies of time and the issue of sexual gratification. It is, however, the second of the two themes listed that will be considered in this essay. Hence, it is ideal to state here that this essay seeks to critically examine how some of the poems treated in this course portray man’s hunt for sexual gratification or satisfaction. In a bid to leave no stone unturned, key attention will be paid to the elements of form and content and how they help project the issue on ground.

Sexual gratification, as expressed through both poems, can be seen in the way both personas try to woo their ladies in a bid to have sexual relations with them. Both personas give several reasons why they believe having this amorous affair is important. Andrew Marvell’s persona uses the shortness of time to buttress his argument by telling his lady to cave in and enjoy the moment instead of rejecting his advances because very soon, she will not be as attractive as she is due to the effects of time on beauty — old age. John Donne, on the other hand, uses an incident of blood sucking by a flea to pass across his point. He tells his lover to be more accepting to their union because the flea has successfully sucked blood from both of them; thereby, metaphorically linking them in holy matrimony. He goes on to point out that since nothing happened to the flea, nothing will happen if she decides to consummate their union.

Of course, the theme of sexual gratification is a predominant theme in poems such as Andrew Marvell’s “To his Coy Mistress” and John Donne’s “The Flea”. This theme is highlighted through the technicalities and content. For example, one can assume that their use of regular iambic metrical patterns — iambic tetrameter in “To his Coy Mistress” and the alternation between iambic tetrameter and pentameter in “The Flea” — suggest lightheartedness. And this lightheartedness, by extension, explains the two poet personas’ love for pleasure derived through sexual contact. Still on the technicalities, one can also say that the use of sonorous couplets in Andrew Marvell’s poem and John Donne’s regular rhyme scheme are significant to the building of sexual tension in the poem. This point can be reinforced by paying close attention to the musical quality they both express through their rhymes. Conclusively, because pleasant sounds such as music aid seduction, we can say the the rhythm and rhymes employed in these poems play a huge role in illuminating the theme of sexual gratification.

Also, these poets present man’s hunt for sexual satisfaction through their choice of words. The choice of words in both poems is simple enough and this makes much sense because their intentions are clearly stated to the objects of their affections; thereby, making it impossible for the ladies to misunderstand them. John Donne, for instance, uses the event of a flea sucking his persona’s lover’s blood to try to influence her to be intimate with him. To John Donne’s persona, the flea takes his lady’s blood without having to ask her out; thus, they should be able to have sexual contact without having to go through much troubles. The persona’s point is made manifest through the line below:
“Yet this enjoys before it woo…”
Furthermore, the use of words such as “maidenhead and marriage bed” help to reinforce the fact that the persona seeks to consummate the union with his lover.

In Andrew Marvell’s “To his Coy Mistress”, the choice of words betrays the persona’s seductive tendencies. He presents a conditional situation where time is not a factor as seen in the lines below:
“Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, Lady, were no crime.”
To the persona, if such a situation were to be possible, he would spend hundreds of years, patiently trying to win her love. But realistically speaking, such situation is hypothetical and thus does not portray life so he urges the lady to quickly accept his advances by stating, in no uncertain terms, what time does to everything — that is, very soon, the beauty of the lady will fade and all the things she holds dear will be no more.

Most certainly, one cannot fully discuss the issue of sexual gratification by paying attention only to the form and technicalities of the poems. To succinctly put it, the content (most especially the themes) is equally as important. In both poems, we have themes that help reinforce the issue on ground. Some of these themes are: seduction, lust, and marriage. All these themes will be briefly explained with regard to how they help highlight the central theme of sexual gratification.

Obviously, one theme that stands out is the theme of seduction. Logically speaking, the first step of many sexual relationships begins with seduction, and both poet personas are aware of this fact; thus, explaining why they go great lengths in the bid to win over their ladies. Andrew Marvell’s persona makes use of hyperboles in order to impress his lady, as seen in lines 7 to 20. When it seems like flowery words will not do the trick, the persona stoops so low by mentioning to the lady how time will destroy everything she holds dear if she refuses to spend her best days with him. John Donne, on the other hand, attempts to use a flea, which has successfully sucked blood from him and his lover, to convince his addressee to have sex with him because the flea symbolizes their union. So, one can emphatically say that the theme of seduction is crucial to understanding the theme of sexual gratification.

Closely following the theme of seduction are the themes of lust and marriage. Both personas are guilty of lust in that they view the ladies as sex objects. To them, premarital sex is not a big deal, so they implore the ladies to lose their virginities. Andrew Marvell’s persona is obviously the more ruthless of the two. He just aims to enjoy the moment with the lady and perhaps move on to someone else when he has satisfied his sexual urge. John Donne’s persona is not much better but he, at least, offers to marry the lady even if her parents are against the union.

Indeed, one cannot miss the various hints that point out at sexual gratification in these poems because they are clearly stated through elements of form such as meter, rhyme and diction, and through the themes projected in the poems. In fact, it is these elements that help make the argument, that these poems derive their origin in the hunt for sexual satisfaction, sustainable. In conclusion, this essay has made an attempt to analyse how the non-African poems treated in this course portrayed the issue of sexual gratification.

Examine the persona’s view of ageing in Lennie Peter’s “The Panic of Growing Older”

OSAGIEDE, Mabel.

There is always this fear that grips a person in the course of growing older — a period a person is exposed to the world and its responsibilities. “The Panic of Growing Older” is a poem by Lenrie Peterson which centres on the mortality of human existence. He paints a picture of a contest between youthfulness and old age, between hope and expectations, between optimism and dwindling satisfaction, between physical strength and mortal weakness. We are born, we move about with various ambitions but at the end, we are left with dwindling satisfaction. This essay aims to explain Lenrie’s view of ageing in his poem “The Panic of Growing Older”

This poem is a realistic poem. It is one which the poet uses to present an ever-present problem plaguing humanity — that is, old age. The poet depicts this problem and all that it comes with through the different stanzas. He, not only, captures the ephemeral fruitful years of a person’s life — age twenty (At age twenty, still by hope of gigantic success..) — but also, describes the unproductive years — from thirty years upward.

Through the poet’s choice of words which describe the poet’s feelings on the subject matter and of course, the pessimistic tone of the persona, one can without any iota of doubt say that the persona has a pessimistic view about ageing. This is reinforced by the title of the poem, “The Panic of Growing Older”. The use of the word “panic” undoubtedly expresses the poet’s fear of ageing and all it entails — that is, one has no choice but to be in a state of sheer panic and misery as old age looms. In fact, the persona describes this panic as being overwhelming because it grows stronger by the day. This is exemplified by the lines below:

“The panic
Of growing older
Spreads fluttering wings
From year to year” Of course, the persona cannot adopt a pessimistic without having cogent reasons. One of the reasons for the poet's pessimistic stance as regards ageing is that old age comes with fear and anxiety. The "panic" having to do with growing old is tied to what one has set out to achieve and the reality of his life. Although they are people who have achieved a lot in a short life span, Lenrie Peters writes on behalf of the people who live to their old age with no inner satisfaction. The initial excitement in youthfulness does not often last into old age. Peters does not appreciate this. Perhaps, this fear and anxiety may be as a result of one's closeness to death. Although Lenrie Peters does not make mention of death in his poem, we can only infer that an old person's looming death will only increase his panic when he remembers the plethora of things he failed to achieve during his golden years.

Another reason for Lenrie Peter’s pessimism is that old age comes with stressed responsibilities — more things to do. Before we go into Peters’ view of ageing as regards to stressful responsibility, let us put it in a more realistic form. At twenty, one is free and young and one can easily engage in any social activity, plan one’s day-to-day activities and make decisions. To summarise, you have your personal space and the poet acknowledge this fact as exemplified in stanza 2:

“At twenty
Stilled by hope
Of gigantic success
Time and exploration”.

He even points out that youths have time to explore and have fun. Life is like a bed of roses to them. However, this excitements never last. At thirty, you feel this “…sudden throb of pain”. This is not unusual because it happens as a result of the heavy burden one bears. Responsibilities reach its maximum and you lack time for yourself and dreams. One marries and is involved in raising a family. Now, you are tied down. The poet persona thus puts it this way:

“Legs cribbled
In domesticity allow
No sudden leaps
At the moon now”.

To crown it all up, these burdens are there to stay forever. When your bones are too weak and you are drawing closer to death, you think of the years you have spent on this earth only to realizes it cannot be equalled to your achievement. You see yourself helpless with a dwindling inner satisfaction. Therefore, one can be justified to say that the poet takes this pessimistic view as a result of the stressful responsibility attached to ageing.

Lastly, pessimism is highlighted in this text through the theme of failure. The persona presents his life as one with a lot of unfulfilled dreams. The optimism that was present in his early life has suddenly evaporated; and now, he is faced by a reality of failures. He has nothing to show the world as his achievements except his family (children). Even at that, the poet is aware that procreation requires no specialist effort so he truly has nothing to show in terms of achievement. The realisation that his life has been one of multiple failures undoubtedly contribute to the poet’s pessimistic view on ageing.

In conclusion, this essay has comprehensively commented on the way the persona views ageing in the poem “The Panic of Growing Older”. This essay described the persona’s view as one which is deeply rooted in pessimism as a result of several factors that come with ageing. It is believed that the simplistic methods and words used in this essay have been able to pass the message across.

*The Standard Essay*

Extracts from: *_HOW TO ANSWER LITERATURE QUESTIONS_* (A work in progress)

A standard essay should have three parts namely: the introduction; the body; and the conclusion. This is applicable to every essay in every discipline. These three parts must be present when one is drafting one’s outline. Hence, ensuring that one’s essay is properly divided into paragraphs.

For an essay to be considered as standard at this level, the essay should have at least five paragraphs — that is, one paragraph for the introduction; three paragraphs for the body; and the last paragraph will be for the conclusion. It is important to note that only one idea should be discussed in a paragraph. For example, in an essay titled “The Effects of Drug Abuse”, you may outline at least three effects and discuss them in different paragraphs.

The different parts of an essay perform different functions. The introductory part, just as the name implies, introduces the essay. It contains the thesis (What the essay aims to accomplish.) and perhaps, the definition of the concepts. An essay should have a good introduction that is catchy enough to attract the reader. The body of the essay is the point where you discuss your points while the conclusion is the point where you summarise and round off your essay.

Aside having the proper form, a standard essay should also show one’s authority in the use of language — that is, the grammatical construction of words and the correct employment of punctuation are keys to writing good essays. On this note, it is advisable for students writing literature exams to master topics such as: The Rules of Concord and The Correct Ways to Use Punctuation Marks.

Knowing the aforementioned topics is important because most literature teachers usually assume that these things have been taught in English so they do not waste precious time trying to teach the students basic things like subject-verb agreement and where to put the punctuation symbols when writing.

Another important skill to have while writing is the ability to ensure the smooth flow of thoughts from one sentence to another or from one paragraph to another. This is otherwise known as cohesion. Cohesion can be achieved in an essay through the use of connective such as: firstly, lastly, in conclusion, however, furthermore, nevertheless, conclusively, etc.

To summarise all that has been said, one needs the following in order to write a good essay:
1. An outline.
2. Proper paragraphing.
3. The correct application of grammatical rules.
4. Mechanical accuracy — the correct use of punctuation marks.
5. Cohesion between sentences and paragraphs.

Below is an example of an outline and essay on the topic: “Why Youth Empowerment is Important for National Development.”

*Introduction*

Paragraph 1: Define the concept and list out some points that will be discussed in the body. State your thesis.

Body

Paragraph 2. Youth empowerment reduces the dependency on the government.
Paragraph 3. Youth empowerment reduces poverty.
Paragraph 4. Youth empowerment reduces crime.

*Conclusion*

Paragraph 5. Restate your thesis. Comment on what your essay has been able to achieve.

Why Youth Empowerment is Important for National Development.

Many of the developed countries of the world today are where they are because of the efforts the governments of these countries have made in terms of empowering their young citizens to be self-reliant. Self-reliance simply means the state of being able to provide for oneself the basic needs of life — water, food, housing, clothing and pleasure. Because the youths in the developed countries of the world are self-reliant, there is less dependency on the government, less poverty, and of course less crime. The word “less” is used before all the aforementioned because it is impossible to have a country whereby there is zero crime and no poor citizens etc. On this note, this essay will discuss the importance of youth empowerment to national development.

As mentioned in the preamble, if the government of Nigeria decides to invest in its youths by teaching them various skills that will make them to be able to fend for themselves, there will be less dependency on the government. If this is done in Nigeria, there will be an upsurge in the economy because the people must have learnt the skills needed to produce some of the things which are usually imported and subsidised by the government; thus, providing more funds for the government to carryout other tasks. It is no news that when people are happy and healthy, the government of the country will not have much problems; hence, doing this provides an opportunity to the government to pursue other pressing needs that will also aid national development.

Empowering the youth of Nigeria is surely going to reduce poverty. Due to lack of any official data at hand to back up claims that many Nigerians are poor, I will be giving a subjective description of poverty in Nigeria. Going through the slums of Ajegunle, I cannot help but feel nauseous when I see the poor living conditions of the people. Their houses are often old and dilapidated, usually without running water and proper toilets. To summarise, the places many a Nigerian lives is not worth living. Sadly these unhealthy environments and accommodations are what most can afford due to the high rate of poverty in the country, and in fact the ones who can afford these houses are often considered as lucky when compared to those who sleep on the streets. The high rate of poverty in the country will easily be reduced if only the government can train the youth to be self-reliant by conducting different workshops that will provide a platform for people to develop their skills and make money from it. If this is done, the standard of living of the people will increase significantly.

Finally, training the youth in skill acquisition will surely reduce crime in the country. In Nigeria today, crime — both high-profile and low-profile crimes — is the order of the day. Many youths involve in different vices in order to cater for themselves. The adage — “An idle hand is the devils workshop.” — is, everyday, proven to be correct in Nigeria because it is only those who are not gainfully employed that can find the time to involve in vices such as stealing and prostitution etc. All these will definitely reduce if only the government could provide a genuine means of making money for the youth in the country.

Youth empowerment is important for national development because the youths are the future leaders of the country. If those who will lead the country in the nearest future are responsible and self-reliant citizens, we can rest assured that the country will continue to grow and will soon be at par with the “Japans”, the “Germanies” and the “Chinas” of this world. In conclusion, this essay has discussed the importance of youth empowerment to national development.

Your feedback is required. Thanks.

*UDE, Chiedozie Orji (Atomic)*

09090953414

A Critical Essay on Condomnairing by Chiedozie Ude.

Condoms, however basic and insignificant they may appear, are highly important when it comes to avoiding pregnancy and other sexual-related infections. Buying and using condoms may be quite tricky due to several factors. It is not uncommon for many a guy who wants to buy condoms to whisper silently to the seller because the buyer does not want other customers in the shop to view him with reproach. Well, if you are scared of buying condoms or you do not know how to properly wear one, this essay is for you.

Firstly, if you are underaged or if you are well known for decency, you might not want to buy condoms from a vendor that is in your area in order not to spoil your reputation. You never know, words may reach your parents or pastor. Now, that will make a juicy scandal. So, the solution to the fear or shame of buying condoms can be solved if you buy it from a place where you are not known. Better still, buy it from an aboki (trust me, these abokis sell everything sellable — that is, they are the true definition of a Jack of all trades) because an aboki will sell to you without asking questions. Do not ask me how I know this.

Having bought the condoms (I used the plural form because I do not think anyone will buy one, and rightly so.), the next issue will be how to keep them away from the wrong eyes. The wrong eyes include: younger siblings (Trust me, your younger ones cannot keep a secret to save their lives.); your parents (especially your mother); and your nosy elderly female neighbours who serve as CCTV for your mother etc. Rest assured that you are safe if you can avoid the set of people mentioned. Being caught by your parents, guardian or mentor is not ideal. Imagine how they will squeeze their faces, expressing their disgust in no uncertain terms, forgetting that they were once teenagers or youth who embarked on a plethora of erotic adventures. Trust me, African parents do not understand the concept of safe sex because total abstinence is their style. Therefore, do not be deceived by thinking they will understand why you keep condoms because they will never even try to understand; so, below are the ways to avoid being caught with the wonderful rubber:
1. Hide the goods in one of the hidden pockets of a standard wallet and never you let your wallet enter the hands of any of those classified as the wrong eyes.
2. Place the goods in an empty Milo container “pangolo” and bury it while facing the west. To be certain that you do it properly, do it while the sun is about to sink into its vest (Permit my floweriness, I mean sunset.). The essence of doing this is because burying a condom is a sacred festival that must be done with a mountain of sacredness.
3. Simply buy the condoms whenever you are about to use them. No need to keep incriminating evidence of your fornicating habit for your beloved and righteous parents to find.

No matter the precautions one may take, one may still be exposed. Little wonder the Pidgin English proverb states thus: “When breeze blow, fowl nyash go open.” Should you ever be caught with the contraband, here is a list of what you should do:
1. Admit to your parents that you are a “fuckaholic” so that they can conduct deliverance service for you. However, if your mother is a Yoruba woman who possesses the immanent or God-given ability to shape destinies with her resounding slaps, you may not apply this method. Do not say I did not warn you.
2. This rule is a tried and tested rule because it works every time. Whenever you are caught, just act casually by saying in an offhand manner that you attended a seminar on sex education and you were given condoms as souvenirs. After you say this, shake your head and say: “Silly me, I forgot to throw that shit out.” Then, you whistle loudly as you go out to discard the material. To appear more real — that is, to make them know it was an honest mistake — take out the trash can and empty it because doing this will remind your parents of how responsible you are. Applying this will save you from answering a lot of questions.

The previous paragraphs have dealt with the issues of buying and hiding condoms, and also the issue of escaping a scolding or a righteous sermon when you are caught with the goods-you-should-not-possess. Having learnt these, the next step will be to guide you on how to properly wear a condom. This stage is the most critical because if it is not done properly, you may end up becoming a father in the next nine months. As a student, you would not want that or would you? So, below are the things that should be done in order to ensure you are not violating the sacrosanct rules of condomnairing:
1. Do not wear the condom on your joystick the way you force your skinny jeans into your yam legs. Doing this may get it broken. Remember, you have to treat a condom with utmost respect and care — the kind of care you will give to a fragile baby.
2. Blow little air into it, place it on your Iroko tree and gently roll it towards your sack of coconuts (Pardon my use of euphemisms, my righteousness does not give room for sexual explicitness.).
3. Rule three is very important because it is where legends stand out. You may know how to wear a condom but are you a condomnairing legend? Read on to find out. Always leave a paragraph at the beginning of your Jack hammer when you put on a condom. This paragraph is important because it is going to store whatever you bring out during copulation. Remember, what separates the best from the rest is simply paragraphing.

In conclusion, you now know where you stand as a guy or where your boyfriends stand for the girls. Some of them are condomnairing legends while the rest need to up their game. Finally, it is believed that the unconventional methods suggested in this article will go a long way in ensuring that boys become legends.

Expressive Approach to Analysing “A Song for Ajegunle” by Niyi Osundare. Chiedozie Ude. GBAMLOG.COM

As is the case with most literary works of art, Niyi Osundare’s “A Song for Ajegunle” is a work of art which portrays realism. Realism is portrayed through the setting of the poem — that is, a place in Lagos known as Ajegunle. The place setting is reinforced or rather made known through the title of the poem. Aside from the setting which is drawn from real life, realism is also captured in the text through the way the poet vividly describes the happenings in the location. For example, his description of how so many children that should be in school are out of school aptly captures the situation of many a child in Ajegunle. Hence, one can without any iota of doubt say that this poem is, indeed, realistic.

The poem “A Song for Ajegunle” is one which captures the social, economic and political realities of Ajegunle. The poem centres on the poverty-stricken ghetto area known as Ajegunle. It contains the persona’s description of the dirt-infested and government-ignored area in the morning, evening and night. The persona does not mince words as he vividly describes Ajegunle, using a series of figurative expressions to give maximum effect to his description. Because of the indepth knowledge which the poet has of this area as exposed by the simile “curious bird”, this essay will seek to analyse the poem based on how it represents the poet’s feelings and attitude towards the subject matter.

The poet is a well-known romantic who, through his poems, has been able to promote the conservation of nature. Hence, it comes as no surprise that he bemoans the unhealthy situation of Ajegunle. Some of the issues which the poet raises in this poem include: poverty, insecurity, underdevelopment, irresponsible government, and filth etc. These issues are developed through the poet’s choice of words and of course, his use of figurative expressions.

The issue of poverty is central to this poem in that the poet does not mince words as he describes the pathetic situation of the people who live in Ajegunle. He brings this into focus by describing the smoke which comes out of their idle kitchens as pale. The phrase “idle kitchen” is apt because it depicts the lack which is inherent in this place. Niyi Osundare further comments on the issue of poverty by describing how children are unable to go to school and also how many households cannot afford decent meals — that is, the tables are without bread. Through the poet’s cacophonic choice of words such as rumble, manacling, battering etc., his unhappiness at the state of affairs is evident.

Another issue that is on top of the poet’s mind is the issue of underdevelopment. This issue is brought to the fore by Niyi Osundare through the use of contrast. In comparison to Ikoyi, Ajegunle is simply an empty bag that is sprawled. By this, Niyi Osundare, unequivocally, states the backward nature of Ajegunle in comparison to other popular areas of the state. The poet goes on to lament the deplorable housing condition of Ajegunle. To him, the poet, the houses are hovels or slightly better than hovels. He expresses his unhappiness by his repetition of the word “through” in stanza three. The repetition is significant because it serves as a medium which the poet uses to reveal how backward Ajegunle, indeed, is.

Of course, the theme of underdevelopment is related to the theme of bad governance. Niyi Osundare exposes the inability of the government to provide basic amenities for the people in Ajegunle. Niyi Osundare draws light to this by commenting on: the poor state of roads; the poor toilet facilities as exemplified by people’s penchant for defecating in the gutters; lack of good water as seen in the phrase “taps without water”; and of course, not forgetting the apparent lack of electricity which is exposed by Osundare’s nighttime description of the sweaty stupor of people sleeping in crowded mats. Through his use of different imagery such as sight, touch etc., Osundare is able to comment on the issue of bad governance.

Osundare sticks to stereotype in that this poem is in tandem with other poems written by him which talk about the environment. Due to this, it comes as no surprise that Osundare’s description is filled with visual images of filth. These images are further reinforced by the refrain which continually describes Ajegunle as a place that is sprawled. This issue of filth is one is dominant in the stanzas. Firstly, the poet describes the place as weed-infested. He goes on to address the issue of people defecating in gutters and this is unhealthy because it instigates the outbreak of water-borne viruses such as cholera. Osundare further comments on the issue of filth by drawing upon the image of smell. This is made known through the metaphor “the hooded stench of nightsoil” which further reinforces the issue of filth in the poem. Through this issue, Osundare expresses his disdain for the environmental hazards plaguing Ajegunle.

In conclusion, the poet fully utilises the expressive power of literature in this poem because he is able to shed light on several personal and national issues. In fact, this poem may be described as a poem which the poet uses to protest against the rulers of Nigeria; thereby, championing the cause of the masses.

UDE, Chiedozie Orji.

Department of English, University of Lagos.

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PERFECT SEDUCTION: HOW I SEDUCE MY ENGLISH TEACHER.| GBAMLOG.COM

I Seduced My High School English Teacher, It Was Totally Worth It

“Blood, sex, and death.” Those were the three things Mr. Fitzpatrick taught us were part of every gothic horror novel. He was the high school english teacher I hopelessly crushed on, and I couldn’t help but notice that his eyes lingered on me when he said the second word. Sex.

I was a senior then, about to graduate. Glued to my seat even in the late, late spring when my classmates were terminally zoned out, focused on graduation, the summer ahead of them, college. But I still had unfinished business here, and today he was wearing a black tie over a light blue button-up and jeans that were just snug enough to drive my imagination wild. When he perched on the edge of his desk reading from The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, I let my eyes wander up and down his body, imaging a new use for each part.

He was the new cute teacher this year, the one the girls whispered about between classes. Mr. Fitzpatrick is looking good today.I’d tried to pretend I wasn’t one of them before, it’s not interesting to have the same crush as everyone else. But his charm was undeniable, who else could make the classics so sexy? Every day when he taught his inflection would bounce up and down with passion as he taught us about Bram Stoker and Shirley Jackson.

When he taught Dracula he became brooding and obsessive, delving into each character. Even in the clinical, fluorescent-lit classroom it was sexual. I spend the 50 minute class period imagining his lips — his teeth — on my neck, finding me in secret, lusting after my “life force” as Stoker says. The week he spent on, The Haunting of Hill House, was one of the most oddly erotic of my life. The text was thrilling, I was in a constant state of suspense and I held myself to not reading ahead, and being completely present in class when he talked about the role adrenaline plays in our bodies physiological state as we read. I didn’t ask, but I was sure my increased interest in him was one of those byproducts he was talking about.

When graduation was only a few weeks away, I felt bolder. Surely I should make a move, if the consequences of being rebuffed were so low? What could they do? I was almost gone. And so I became consumed with the idea of hooking up with Mr. Fitzpatrick.

At first, I thought I could be subtle. Mr. Fitzpatrick certainly noticed when I wore something low-cut or a little more form-fitting. Once I entered his classroom in a dress that particularly accentuated my curves and I could have sworn I heard him groan. But understandably, he never did anything more than cast a lingering glance my way.

He’d get in too much trouble, I reasoned. I’m going to have to be the one to do something. So I put my mind into creating the perfect plan: I’d just have to present him with an opportunity he couldn’t say no to.

The senior end-of-year dance was coming up, and I inserted myself into the planning committee long enough to serve as an official liaison and ask Mr. Fitzpatrick if he would be a chaperone, apparently we were in desperate need of one (I didn’t ask anyone else). A light flickered in his eyes as I carefully enunciated the word desperate. Hopefully that was a look of comprehending my agenda. He agreed to the task.

I bought new lingerie, black and red and lacy. I wore it under a loose-fitting white sundress, pure and virginal like a gothic heroine, but dark and carnal underneath.

At the dance, I added a note to the clipboard waiting for him as a chaperone. It was the regular list of rules to enforce and emergency contacts. My note was underneath, it was a line from Draculaalong with his room number:

“No man knows till he experiences it, what it is like to feel his own life-blood drawn away into the woman he loves.” CLC 345.

I never went to the dance. Instead I made my way through the dark and empty corridors of the school until I let myself into his classroom. I brought with me one candle to break up the darkness without relying on the fluorescents. Lighting it and setting it on a desk in the front row I climbed into Mr. Fitzpatrick’s seat behind his desk, pulled the straps of my dress down so the top of my lacy bra was revealed, and crossed my legs with my heels resting on the edge of his desk, waiting.

It was a long wait. He didn’t find my note right away, but it became pleasurably agonizing, every tiny sound I heard in the hallway seemed like it could be him approaching. I got excited and then mellowed again when I realized it was my imagination. When he did come, I didn’t even hear him approach.

“Adrienne.”

It was a guess he made as he entered the classroom, it was too dim to see my face but I had made sure the glow illuminated my nearly bare legs. I was glad he was expecting it to be me.

“Mr. Fitzpatrick.” I acknowledged him and removed my legs from his desk, slowly crossing them in front of me.

“This note… what are you doing here? We shouldn’t be here.”

He was saying the words, but even to someone who wasn’t engaging in wishful thinking they sounded unconvincing. He didn’t want them to be true. I stood up and leaned against the edge of his desk, facing him, opening my legs a bit so he could imagine himself between them.

“Mr. Fitzpatrick, I’m sorry if you’re misunderstanding. I just wanted to discussDracula more.”

He moved closer, grinning.

When he was close enough that I could touch him, I grabbed his tie and pulled his body into mine. I could feel he was already hard as he pressed against the loose fabric separating us. The situation excited him as much as it excited me. “You’ve always been my favorite student, Adrienne, but I could get in a lot of trouble for being here right now.”

Pulling harder on his tie, my mouth found his neck. “I’ll just have to make it worth your while then.”

He groaned and his hands found the undersides of my thighs, pulling me closer to him and moving us both back so I was resting on his desk. I slide back farther and wrapped my legs around him.

“I just wanted to experience this before graduation,” I told him, “I’ve been trying not to make a move all year.”

Even in the low light, I could see the smile that spread across his face. He says he loves the way I look lying on his desk. I respond by feeling the bulge in his pants, attempting to grip him through the fabric and feeling him grow.

“We need to make this quick. They’ll look for me if I don’t come back.”

“Perfect.” With the suspense building as long as it had, I wouldn’t last long in his arms anyway.

I heard him unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants but I didn’t look away from his face. Even in the dark he looked handsome, brooding. I wanted him to tell me more about sex and blood and death but I also just wanted to experience it with him — all the parts of being human, all the things worth writing about.

I was happy there, to be a willing participant in a fantasy I was sure he had. Happy when he slid the lace panties I’d brought for the occasion off, happy when he didn’t bother to remove my bra but instead pulled my breasts free from it, and especially happy when his body met mine.

While forging a path with his mouth from my neck, down to my collarbone, and then landing on my breasts he pulled me closer to him and entered me. The speed with which he poured himself into me belied his eagerness. I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him to. As much as I’d fantasized about him wanting me.

Lowering himself so his face was next to mine he whispered, “Adrienne, if you want to be a great student you’re going to have to finish me off with your mouth.”

Kneeling before him I skipped the niceties and began blowing him full on right away, working my hand around his shaft in tandem with my mouth. His hands worked their way through my hair, separating it into two ponytails he held firmly as he used them to guide my head onto his cock, increasing in rhythm until I felt him tense up, his hands clenching my hair. Pulling my head down on him, he held me there and emptied himself into the back of my mouth. I could taste the saltiness as I removed myself from him, licking my lips.

It was the perfect end to my senior

year.

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I Seduced My High School English Teacher, It Was Totally Worth It | GBAMLOG

I WISH TO LOVE YOU LONGER | GBAMLOG 

I WISH TO LOVE YOU LONGER

*phone call *
Boy: Hey, hun!
Girl: Hey.
Boy: I missed you at school today. Why weren’t you there?
Girl: Yeah, I had to go to the doctor.
Boy: Oh really? Why?
Girl: Oh, nothing. Just some annual shots, that’s all.
Boy: Oh.
Girl: So what did you guys do in Math today?
Boy: You didn’t miss anything that great, just a lot of notes.
Girl: Okay, good.
Boy: Yeah.
Girl: Hey, I have a question to ask.
Boy: Okay, ask away.
Girl: How much do you love me?
Boy: You know I love you more than anything in this world.
Girl: Yeah.
Boy: Why did you ask?
Girl: *silence*
Boy: Is something wrong?
Girl: No. Nothing at all. Um. How much do you care about me?
Boy: I would give you the world in a heartbeat if I could.
Girl: You would?
Boy: Yeah of course I would. *sounding worried* Is there something wrong?
Girl: No, everything’s fine.
Boy: Are you sure?
Girl: Yeah
Boy: Okay. I hope so.
Girl: Would you die for me?
Boy: I would take a bullet for you any day, hun.
Girl: Really?
Boy: Any day. Now, seriously, is there something wrong?
Girl: No, I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re fine. Everyone and everything is fine.
Boy: Okay.
Girl: Well, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow at school.
Boy: Alright, bye. I love you!
Girl: Yeah. I love you too. Bye.
THE NEXT DAY AT SCHOOL
Boy: Hey, have you seen my girlfriend today?
Friend: No.
Boy: Oh.
Friend: She wasn’t here yesterday, either.
Boy: I know. She was acting all weird on the phone last night.
Friend: Well, dude, you know how girls are sometimes.
Boy: Yeah, but not her.
Friend: I don’t know what else to say, man.
Boy: Okay, well I gotta get to English. I’ll see ya after school.
Friend: Yeah I gotta get to Science. Later.
THAT NIGHT
Girl: Hello?
Boy: Hey.
Girl: Oh, hey.
Boy: Why weren’t you at school today?
Girl: Uh, I had another appointment with the doctor.
Boy: Are you sick?
Girl: Um, I have to go. My mom’s calling on the other line.
Boy: I’ll wait.
Girl: It may take a while. I’ll call you later.
Boy: Alright. I love you.
-very long pause-
Girl: *with a tears in her eyes* Look, I think we should break up.
Boy: What?!
Girl: It’s the best thing for us right now.
Boy: Why?
Girl: I love you.
THE GIRL DOESN’T COME TO SCHOOL FOR 3 MORE WEEKS AND DOESNT ANSWER HER PHONE
Boy: Hey dude.
Friend: Hey.
Boy: What’s up?
Friend: Nothing. Hey, have you talked to your ex lately?
Boy: No.
Friend: So you didn’t hear?
Boy: Hear what?
Friend: Um, I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you…
Boy: Dude, just tell me!
Friend: Uh. Call this number, 433-555-3468.
Boy: Okay, thanks!
BOY CALLS THE NUMBER AFTER SCHOOL
Voice: Hello, Suppam County Hospital. This is Nurse Victoria.
Boy: Uh, I must have the wrong number. I’m looking for my friend.
Voice: What is their name, sir?
*boy gives info*
Voice: Yes, this is the right number. She’s one of our patients here.
Boy: Really? Why? What happened? How is she?
Voice: Her room number is 646 in building A, suite 3.
Boy: WHAT HAPPENED?!
Voice: Please come by, sir, and you can see her. Goodbye.
Boy: WAIT! NO!
THE BOY GOES TO HOSPITAL, AND TO ROOM 646, BUILDING A, SUITE 3. THE GIRL IS LYING IN THE HOSPITAL BED.
Boy: Oh my God, are you okay?
Girl: *silence*
Boy: Dear, talk to me!
Girl: I..
Boy: You what?
Girl: I have cancer and I’m on life support.
Boy: *breaks into tears*
Girl: They’re taking me off tonight.
Boy: Why?
Girl: I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t .
Boy: Why didn’t you tell me?
Girl: I didn’t want to hurt you.
Boy: You could never hurt me.
Girl: I just wanted to see if you felt about me the same as I felt about you.
Boy: Huh?
Girl: I love you more than anything. I would give you the world in a heartbeat. I would die for you and take a bullet for you.
Boy: *crying*
Girl: Don’t be sad. I love you and I’ll always be there with you.
Boy: Then why did you break up with me?
Nurse: Young man, visiting hours are over.
The boy leaves and later that night the girl is taken off of life support and dies, but what the boy didn’t know is that the girl only asked him those questions so she could hear him say it one last time. She only broke up with him because she knew she only had 3 more weeks left to live and thought that it would cause him less pain and give him time to get over her before she died.
NEXT DAY
The boy is found dead with a gun in one hand and a note in the other.
THE NOTE SAID:
“I told her that I would take a bullet for her, just like she said she would die for me.”

SECRET SHARED : ROMANCE WITH MY PILOT

By L.M Adeline

We made it down the short aisle. Standing in front of the cockpit door, she gave three quick knocks. A second later, a sandy-haired young man with thick glasses and a space between his front teeth poked his head out.

Oh dear

. I hated to admit that my shallow Southern heart sank, though I politely pulled my grin a little wider, reminding myself what the

C

in S.E.C.R.E.T. stood for. If my fantasy man wasn’t…

compelling

, I didn’t have to go through with the fantasy.

“Is this our lovely visitor?” he asked with a lisp.

Oh dear

.

“Yes,” the flight attendant said. “Miss Dauphine Mason, this is our multitalented First Officer Friar. Miss Mason is keen to see what goes on in here. It might help her with her fear of flying.”

“Ah, yes. Dispel the mystery and the fear disperses. That’s Captain Nathan’s specialty. He can show you around while I stretch my legs. Three’s a crowd in here! Good luck!”

After mangling all those S’s, First Officer Friar made a beeline to the back of the plane. Out the window in front was a dark sky; below, nothing but black water. The high whine of the engines masked the screams in my own head as my legs now turned to cement. Eileen nudged me through the narrow doorway.

“I’ll be back in a little while,” she said, looking at her watch. “Enjoy your flying lesson.” She shut the door behind her.

The pilot sat silhouetted in the window. The only thing I could see above the seat was the back of his head. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, only his white shirt, the muscles on his arms apparent beneath his sleeves as he flicked a number of switches from left to right on a panel in front of him. Thankfully, the white noise drowned out my pounding heart.

“Be with you in a moment, Dauphine. I just want to make sure autopilot’s running smoothly. A robot takes over for most of the flight from now on. A very smart one.” There it was. That accent again. The man from Security! The man with the sexy British accent! The air left my chest and the pressure squeezed my lungs. Feeling tantalized and terrified at that same time had a bad effect on my stomach. I slapped both hands on the curved walls of the cockpit to steady myself as the plane rose and straightened. The pilot faced a wall of lights and levers that seemed to blink and shift on their own. Then he finally turned his chair around, aviators off, brown eyes on me. I gasped. “Don’t worry, we’re on automatic, but we’re not going to be alone in here for long, so I apologize ahead of time for the furtive nature of our interlude,” he said, loosening the top button of his uniform. “But I need to know, before we continue with our tutorial on the safety of flight: Do you accept the Step, Miss Mason?”

I couldn’t believe this was happening. “Here? Now?”

“Yes. Here and now. Trust me when I say I can help you with your fear of flying. And a few other things too, I suspect,” he said, leaning back into the plush leather of his pilot seat, taking me in from bottom to top.

“I’ve never been in an airplane before,” I muttered, stalling.

“I understand that,” he said, steepling his fingers. “But you are doing a fine job of your first time.”

Standing four feet from a complicated instrument panel that the pilot was

no longer

facing, I watched dark clouds whip by the nose of the plane through the high, narrow windows.

“Are we…safe in here?”

“Very safe,” he said. “Safer than driving. Safer than almost any other activity you can do at hundreds of miles an hour, high in the air.”

“What if there’s turbulence?” I asked, just as we hit a little bump. I yelped. My arms flew up to grasp the ceiling.

He took it as a cue to gesture me over to him.

Here we go

! I slowly, carefully, closed the gap between us, and over his shoulder got a better view of the world before me. It was dusk, but light poked through the clouds, illuminating little towns and villages nestled in the foot of a mountain range. They looked like a strand of jewels dropped from a great height. It was beautiful, but still I felt gut- punched and queasy. Levers and buttons continued to move in a ghostly way all around us.

“Turbulence is just air pockets. The plane will ride through it. And I’m right here if anything goes awry.”

I stood above him now, his head level with my breasts. “Do you accept the Step?” Handsome face, kind eyes, great smell, manly hands, but the clincher truly was his beautifully tailored shirt. Terribly shallow, I know.

“Yes, I accept.”

“Then may I help you off with your knickers?”

I almost laughed out loud at the old-fashioned British word for panties. I was wearing a pencil skirt and pumps, and a button-up pink angora sweater. The low ponytail completed my ’50s-housewife-on-an-errand look. It couldn’t be helped; planning my outfits always calmed me, and today I needed to be calm.

“Tell me more about how safe I am,” I begged, as his warm hands gently undid the back of my skirt, letting it drop to the floor.

“Well, Dauphine,” he said, inching my panties, or “knickers,” down, “takeoff is the hardest part. So much can go wrong. But we’re well past that now.”

Standing before him, I closed my eyes. I could feel his fingers unbuttoning my sweater, easing it off my shoulders.

Ohh

.

“Now the middle part of flight,” he said, leaning forward to nuzzle my soft line of pubic hair, kissing it. “That’s the easiest…sweetest part of the ride. But still, you never want to get complacent. Sometimes it’s deceptively easy. You still need to be careful, to watch for subtle signals.”

I stood over him, my legs trembling. He reached back to undo my pink satin bra, slid it forward, and dropped it. Standing there naked, for a second

I forgot the plane was flying on its own

! It was black through the window. I wasn’t sure if we were flying over mountains or water, but I closed my eyes. If I couldn’t see it, it didn’t matter. I placed my hands on the ceiling again, pressing my body forward into him. He was so at ease, so in command as he gently urged my legs farther apart, reaching up to pinch and circle my nipples, like I was an instrument panel he knew exactly how to operate.

“How does the autopilot know what it’s doing?” I asked, so deeply aroused by his thumbs now expertly parting my cleft, I thought my knees would give.

“It listens to me. I tell it what to do and it follows my instructions,” he said, leaning forward to kiss my clitoris, now centered between his thumbs.

“Mmm, you taste so good, my darling,” he murmured, his fingers now joining his mouth, slowly gliding in and out, agonizing me. I felt every knuckle against my most tender parts, prodding my clitoris forward, as his mouth fully encircled me. I grabbed his head as it moved beneath me. Then I felt that rush, fast and hot, and the mounting energy as his urgent tongue fluttered and flicked, his fingers darting in and out. All I could do was shut my eyes and arch back, dying and shuddering as I exploded with a new kind of pleasure, moaning into the ceiling, his tongue lapping relentlessly at me, my hand over my mouth to muffle my cries.

Everywhere Konji!!! 85-Year-Old Woman Caught Having Group SXX With 5 Men. GBAMLOG.COM

85-Year-Old Woman Caught In A Group SXX With 5 Men

An 85-yr-old woman has been arrested after she was caught having group sxx in woodland in Connecticut, the United States in the penultimate week.

On Aug 9, concerned citizens called the police to report a public hook-up happening in the wooded area. The octogenarian was spotted with 5 elderly men including her husband having an orgy.

Image result for 85-Year-Old Woman Caught Having Sex With Five Men, Including Her Husband

All six were apprehended and charged with breach of peace.

The senior citizens are identified as Joyce Butler, 85 – the only woman participating in the orgy – her husband Richard Butler, 82; Daniel Dobbins, 67; Otto D. Williams, 62; Charles L. Ardito, 75; and John Linartz, 62.

Image result for 85 year old woman

According to the Fairfield Police Department, the senior citizens were busted while getting hot and heavy at the Grace Richardson

The Scene of the group sex; and four of the culprits.

Conservation Area during a surveillance operation on public hook-ups in the area. Two of the suspects, Daniel Dobbins and John Linartz have additionally been charged with public indecency.

Dobbins was previously charged with second-degree breach of peace by Connecticut police after witnesses said they spotted him walking around a park naked before police found him inside his car “with his shirt and shorts draped over him and no underclothes.”

The culprits have been released and will appear in court at a later date.

Leave your comments below…

Source: dailyadvent

TALES OF OUR FIRST ANNIVERSARY 

By KrisEdu

When we put the top of our wedding cake in the freezer (to be enjoyed at our first anniversary) we had a vague idea of what married life would be like. We had no idea that our first anniversary would see me with serious health concerns, pregnant, and my husband without a job. The celebration of that day made us truly appreciate each other and our marriage.

Because of our strict budget, I had planned to spend our anniversary at home. I was going to surprise my husband with a romantic dinner and then we would going to watch our wedding video while we ate the top of our wedding cake. Determined to find the perfect gift, I hopped on to eBay to see what I could find. I quickly discovered that the traditional first anniversary gift is paper, and as it happened, Metallica (both mine and my husband’s favorite rock band) was going to be playing two days after our anniversary in a city nearby. I jumped into bidding for the tickets with extra money from a side bartending job in hand. The bidding stopped about $20 short of my budget. I had found my “paper” gift – Metallica tickets. It looked like my plans were going to come off perfectly…boy, was I wrong!

I was disappointed when I took the cake out of the freezer only to find it had mold spots growing on it (I didn’t know we were supposed to wrap it in plastic wrap AND put it in a Tupperware container!). I began to get anxious when we couldn’t find our wedding videos anywhere. I really started panicking when the paper coupon book I had made to go with the tickets got destroyed by the dog. When I found out I had to have a rather major medical procedure the day after our anniversary and wouldn’t be able to attend the concert with my husband, I began to suspect a conspiracy.

I took the spare $20 and a picture of our wedding cake to a talented friend of mine, and she agreed to recreate the top for me. The evening of our anniversary, everything went off without a hitch. The romantic, candlelit dinner was superb. The wedding cake top was so perfect, my husband didn’t even suspect that it wasn’t the original. I had even managed to track down our wedding video, and my Mom sent it to me with 2 days to spare. When the time for gift giving came, I pulled out my envelope and handed it to my husband. When he opened the card and the tickets fell out, the look on his face was worth all the effort I had gone through. I explained that I had gotten the tickets before my medical procedure was planned so I couldn’t go. I told him I had spoken with his best friend who had agreed to take him.

His mouth just hung open – gaping like a fish. I began to worry that maybe he didn’t like the gift as much as I had thought. After what seemed like an interminable period of silence I finally asked, “Don’t you want to go?” He suddenly looked at me and grinned. He handed me my present saying, “I guess all the struggles this year have brought us closer than we thought … We really do know each other well.” Curious, I opened the envelope he had handed me. When I opened the card, two tickets fell out. With some extra money he had scrounged up, he bought me tickets to see Metallica as well. Because of his procrastination, he had waited to get the tickets until after my medical procedure had been planned. His tickets were a week away near where we had family we could stay with.

When people ask me the most romantic thing my husband has ever done, I usually shock them by saying something about a Metallica concert. Until I relate the whole story, they don’t understand that our first anniversary truly demonstrated the love we had for one another.