YOUNG ROMANCE: MY FIRST CRUSH by TheMecurialGirl | GBAMLOG.COM

Our crushes keep changing after every three to four months or maybe even longer or shorter than that. But guys, I hope each and everyone of us remembers our first crush! I find myself blushing whenever I come up with this phrase ‘First Crush’. I find myself going back to the time when i was six, yes because at that age I had my first crush. I was completely unknown to the word ‘Crush’ at that time. I was in my first grade when this boy in my class named Sharvil stole my heart.

Sharvil had the perfect ‘Dream boy’ looks. Brown haired, Pale skinned and with a mesmerizing and an infectious smile that would skip my heartbeat. I would find myself always staring at him in the class and would always find a chance to sit beside him in the class. And whenever I would talk with him, I used to wear that stupid, kiddish smile. You can imagine!

One day, during our lunch break, Sharvil sat beside me and nothing else could make me go all way dreamy! He had come there to show me some magic trick with the fingers. The magic trick which he showed was not quite skilled but there goes my crush-moment, I started clapping like an idiot and acted as if I was overly overwhelmed just because it was HIM coming to ME  to show the trick. So you can imagine the amount of control he had on my mood.

Once, Sharvil had come to my house to play with my brother who studied in the same class as we. He went upstairs to my brother’s bedroom and the whole time I had my ears stuck to his bedroom door! I was so whipped.

I left the school after my first grade and got an admission in another school. As time passed, I eventually forgot Sharvil as he was replaced my other ‘fluctuating’ crushes. After a few years I had completed my tenth grade and i decided to become an engineer in future. I even registered for a JEE training center. I came to know that there were many of my friends from first grade who attended that class and even Sharvil was one of them!

I was eagerly waiting for my class to start. By the time the day arrived, I had already lost my patience to see ‘my’ boy. OK, so let me describe to you the first day of my JEE class. I was trying to hide my excitement right from the time I woke up on that day. I got ready, packed my stuff and boarded the bus. It took thirty minutes for the bus to reach the class. When I reached the class, I found out that the students were still coming and I was not late.

As the class was filling up, my eyes scanned each and every corner of the class but there was no sign of him. I was disrupted. I was standing near the door and then suddenly I heard an ‘Excuse Me’ from behind. I realized that I was blocking the way and then I immediately stepped away from the entrance. I turned around to see who it was. I was too shocked to see the breathtaking view in front of me. It was Sharvil! He looked the same. The same messy, brown hair which had become a bit curly. It made him look hotter. He had the same pale complexion and I noticed that he was wearing lenses, BLUE color lenses! OH MY GOD! This was too much. I was swooning but then I controlled myself. Our eyes met and I felt I was six again. All the memories with him kept flashing in my mind but I was not six, I was a matured and grown up girl. I apologized to him and then sat in my place.

After the class was over, I talked with all my friends. It felt very refreshing to talk to them. Then somehow I ended up talking with Sharvil. And yes, I had my ‘control button’ on as usual. He said that he did not remember me but then I recalled some memories and then after a long time he finally recognized me. We chatted for a long time. He had continued studying in the same school till tenth grade and now he too wanted to become an engineer. All the things that happened on that day were enough to make the rest of the day blissful!

NOW, Sharvil and I are friends, I should say BEST FRIENDS! I know all his secrets and he knows mine too. We share everything with each other. We have similar likes and dislikes. I have even told him about him being my first crush. Yes, I told him everything! I keep telling him all the moments when I fell for him and guess what he does? He just laughs, he does not say anything, simply laughs and I feel the fluttering butterflies in my stomach caused by the melodious sounds of his laughter!

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ROMANCE NON-FICTION: MAY BE IT WAS LOVE by Kwaab | GBAMLOG.COM

Though we never talked but his voice and appearence used to make happy . It was like a special feeling.

So , it was the beginning of my class nine, well my school had two branches and the classes from nine was in other section. Now we had to go by bus to a remote area from main town where the senior section was located. The first day I came to know my class section was changed, I belonged to section c and most of the students in that section were new to me .

On the third period our chemistry teacher asked a question which I don’t remember but I do remember the strong and sweet voice of the person who answered it . He was the boy with 6 fingers . He was long, smart and everything. But the thing was he was sitting in back row so I couldn’t see him even though his voice was something I remember till now.

He came from a village near the school , by cycle. Next day he sat almost next to my desk , and I could now totally see him . I was good at studies so not much but I was well known in my class and he knew me ,that was what I thought. It was very new to me , new feeling .that desire to see him first after entering the class and searching him in the lunch time .

It all started during our English classes .I don’t know why but we like use to stare at each other and smile all the time .we never talked to each other , only used to ask some random bookish questions. His smile was like rain from heaven . I had never stared some one like that before . I mean I had some crushes but none of them were so strong.

Mostly the times when our English teacher used to read novel , everyone used to listen and only we used to stare constantly.

He used to blush everytime he talked to me and me to.

Even after all this neither he got the courage to express his feelings nor I . May be he did expressed but I ignored .It was the end of class and we were waiting for our class to go out and I did heard him saying I love you in my back smiling at me , but it was infront of his friends, I thought that as a joke but may be it was not.

The story has not ended as many of you would thought .

In class 10 we never talked .

Why??

Because my so called freinds gave me the valuable advice to make him my brother by tying a rakhii on his arm and at that time being a boyfriend or girlfriend was a mark for being bad and not smart . It was like signing yourself in teachers bad book.

So I did what they said .ah h I still regret that. Though I never tied the rakhi but I did place it on history wrist and then ran away from there.

Whole class 10th we were awkward. Though the staring was still on .I had now more strong feelings for him now than before . Whenever any teacher used to speak roughly with him , I used to feel bad .

So after this school drama , in 11th when I thought I lost the touch with him I didn’t. What happens in india is that after 10th for 11th and 12th we take coaching . So I also got into coaching. He was not there in starting months but then one day the same voice I heard gave me goosebumps. I was so happy inside .

Though we never talked but his voice and appearence used to make happy . It was like a special feeling. He did tried talking to me . That made my day . Those four years till 12th were very special for me .

Never had that feeling after that. I used to think it was just a crush but may be it was not. I only think good for him and all success to him. Is this a crush ? May be it was .

But what if it was love ,have I lost the love .

I don’t know but hope I meet him seem day before my marriage, so that I could apologise for my childish behavior back then and tell him exactly how I feel for him . Or may be our this story will stay AMAR as his name was .

–END–

ROMANCE FICTION: SHE CATFISHED ME AND I MARRIED HER by Toni Payne | GBAMLOG.COM

The story of how I met and married my wife can be considered romantic depending on your perspective. We met in a popular social media network group. Being a novice, I never thought people created fake profiles on that platform. It turned out the woman I would later marry did. I should have known something was awkward, she was very active but hardly shared pictures of herself or anything else. She had one profile picture, which I found to be very beautiful.

We got on very well and would agree on most topics shared in the group. The conversations were later taken to our private inbox. She lived on the east coast, which was a bit far for me but I did not mind. We eventually graduated to talking on the phone. The first time I heard her voice, I was blown away by how soft and sweet she sounded. If there was any such thing as love at first listen, this would have been it.

 

A taste of new love

The relationship got serious even though we had not physically met. I was so in love with her personality that I did not mind the fact that whenever I asked her to video chat, she would find an excuse not to. This went on for months. I was so caught up in my feelings for her, I did not push further. Maybe I should have.

As the months went by, we stayed close, sharing very intimate conversations. She said all the right things and I felt I knew her better than any other woman from my past. I would spend hours staring at that one beautiful picture she posted and with all this, I felt like I had found my ideal woman. There was only one problem.

Whenever I brought up the topic of meeting physically, she would make excuse after excuse why we needed to wait. At this point, I knew something was wrong and I did not want to continue the relationship if she was hiding something. She claimed she was shy in person and was not ready to meet me. I wasn’t buying it so I pushed further for us to meet.

Finally… we meet

One day she called me out of the blue and told me she was ready to see me. We picked a weekend that I would come see her. When the day finally arrived, I was nervous but ready to finally hold this lady in my arms. She had been an important part of my world for months and finally I would get to look her in the face and tell her how much I care.

My trip was uneventful until I got to the pickup area where we were to meet. Anxious and ready to get this over with, I stood there looking around for her for what seemed like an hour. I called her phone several times but she did not pick up. With disappointment clearly written on my face, I started to walk back to the ticketing counter when a lady walked up to me and asked if I was waiting for Amanda. I said yes and asked if she knew her. This is when the bombshell dropped.

“I am Amanda,” she said. My jaw dropped. What in the world was going on? This must be a prank. It had to be. I immediately started looking around for cameras but found none. I was expecting a TV host to jump out and say I had been pranked, but it never happened.

The only thing I was sure of was that the lady standing in front of me looked nothing like the Amanda I saw in the picture. She asked if I would follow her to her car. The voice! I recognized the voice and would have recognized it in my sleep. I followed her like a zombie under a spell, part of me bursting with curiosity.

A case of true love?

When we got to her car, she began to explain why she catfished me. She said she would understand if I no longer wanted to continue with the relationship. She explained why she was reluctant to meet me in person or video chat. Apparently, the last man she met online stopped calling after they met and she had been dealing with self-esteem issues ever since. She said her main concern was not scaring me away. I asked why she agreed to meet me and she said it was because she was falling in love with me and did not want the charade to continue. She said she wanted me to fall in love with her and not a fake picture.

It took a lot to process but while thinking about it, I realized her plan had worked. I had fallen in love with who she was and not what she looked like. I realized It wasn’t the picture on her profile that endeared me to her, it was her personality, wit and how she cared for me. Little did I know that was the tip of the iceberg. Going to see Amanda turned out to be the best decision because when she realized I was comfortable with her looks, her personality seemed to blossom even more.

One month later I proposed to her. She moved in with me a few more months later and we eventually got married. We have been married for over 7 years and I fall more and more in love with her every day.

If you like what you read, you can check out  my other works  HERE 

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CLASSICAL ROMANCE: BRAZEN by Elaine Hopper | GBAMLOG.COM

“Ugh!” Stephanie Dwyer slammed her apartment door and stomped her foot. “Creep!” A picture fell off the wall and shattered. Water logged, droplets dripped from her nose, her hair, and her eyelashes, pooling at her feet. She scowled. Her new high heels were utterly ruined.

Courtney hid a chuckle behind her hand. Pointing the remote control at the television, she clicked off the sitcom she’d been watching. Her lips crooked into a half smirk. “This one turned into a jerk, too?”

Stephanie dropped her purse onto the coffee table and flopped onto the couch. She kicked her shoes off, scaring the cat who ran into the other room. Staring at the ceiling, she said, “All men should crash and burn.”

“That good?” Courtney sat forward, flicking her long black hair behind her shoulders. “There’s got to be a couple of good men out there. All we need is one good man each. Is that too much to ask?”

Stephanie lifted pained eyes to her roommate and best friend. “I don’t think there’s two good guys in this whole universe. I give up. I’ve had it. I’m not kissing any more toads.”

Courtney looked thoughtful, tapping her chin with her forefinger. “Maybe we’ve been looking in the wrong universe.”

Her friend was losing it big time. “What are you talking about?” Handsome Patrick had seemed so perfect, so wonderful. Until she’d caught him with Alyssa tonight, telling her the moon and stars shone only for her, that they were soulmates – the same pathetic lines he’d snared her with.

Some soulmate!

Jumping to her feet, Courtney paced in front of her. “What we need is a vacation away from the city to someplace totally different.”

“With totally different kinds of men.” Despite herself, her interest was piqued. “We need men who are the opposite of the bozos we’ve been finding here. No more big shot professionals.”

<  2  >

     Courtney grinned from ear to ear. “No more men who drive Mercedes.”

“Or who wear Rolex’s.” Steph started to feel alive again.

“Or who drink champagne.” Courtney downed a sip of her diet soda. Mischief danced in her dark eyes. “Give me a down to earth man who guzzles beer.”

The spirit grabbed Steph, rejuvenating her. “Give me a man who wears boots!”

Courtney slapped her thigh. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Steph couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Let’s catch ourselves a couple of cowboys.”

“Yahoo!” Courtney crossed the room and turned on the computer.

Steph followed her, staring over her shoulder. Her friend went straight to the Ultimate Travel Agency’s booking page.

“I like Texas style. That okay with you?” Courtney’s fingers flew over the keyboard as she hummed Mickey Gilley’s tune, Looking For Love in All the Wrong Places.

“Sounds yummy. But no big cities. Nothing remotely like New York.”

“Don’t worry. I’m in the mood for a little two-stepping and wrestling in the hay.” Courtney paused, looking up at her. “Can you get off work for two weeks now? I’ll have Suzie reschedule all my appointments or give them to Glenn.” Courtney was a psychologist and could pretty much set her own schedule.

“Tony owes me two years vacation. I’ll tell him to give me two weeks now or pay me severance plus vacation pay.” Big words said with lots of bravado.

“You go girl.” Courtney thrust the phone into her hands.

“You mean now?” Steph’s voice cracked, hoarse. Bother her boss at home on the weekend? He’d kill her. Suddenly she didn’t feel so brave. Rent was pretty high and she still owed student loans . . . .

<  3  >

     “Unless you wanna pay for nonrefundable tickets and waste them?” Her roommate batted her eyelashes coyly, her finger poised over the enter key.

Scowling, Steph punched numbers on the phone. Sucking in a huge breath, she prayed Tony was in a good mood.

*

Courtney circled her hand above her head as she rode the mechanical bull. “Yahoo!” She pushed her new red cowboy hat back on her head, and then crooked her finger at Steph who line danced next to a hunky Billy Ray Cyrus look alike. “Your turn.”

No way! Sore thighs and a broken rump weren’t her idea of vacation. She shook her head, unused to the feel of her own cowboy hat. Courtney had made her wear it, swearing no one could visit the Lone Star state without wearing a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, and a Texas tie. For good measure, her friend had given her a big silver and turquoise belt buckle to wear, also. “I’ll pass.”

“Oh no you don’t! Everybody rides the bull.” The cutie pie next to her scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bull. His voice coated her like honey, and his eyes warmed her soul, making her tingly all over.

Half-heartedly she laughed, protesting, “But this is so Urban Cowboy . . . .”

The man’s wavy brown hair fluttered around his gorgeous face and she longed to run her fingers through it. “Tell you what, ma’am. You ride the bull and I’ll take you for a moonlight ride out on the range on my mare.”

Tongue-tied, she smiled down at the man. “I don’t even know your name.”

When he draped his arm across the front of the bull and smiled up at her, she about melted into his arms. He had the sexiest, liveliest eyes she’d ever seen. Deep brown, soulful, and fringed with the longest, sootiest lashes she’d ever seen on a man. They put her own to shame. “I’m Cory Lord. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

<  4  >

     Her heart pitter-pattered so loudly she was sure he knew she was pleased to make his acquaintance, too. Breathlessly, she said, “I’m Stephanie Dwyer.” She could kick herself for sounding so starry-eyed. Any moment she’d drool. They sure didn’t make men like this in the big city. Courtney should change careers and open a dating service. Thus far she had a completely satisfied client. And she’d never cared for men with hair longer than hers before. Texas must be seeping into her blood.

Courtney’s lilting laughter broke into her thoughts. “Who needs Patrick what’s his name?”

Unable to tear her gaze away from Cory, she smiled dreamily. “Patrick who?”

“Wahoo! I knew this place was magical. See if he has a friend for me?”

Like Courtney lacked male attention! Five knock-out cowboys vied for her friend’s attention.

The bull went wild beneath her, almost hurling her off before she knew her ride had begun.

“Scallop your rear and squeeze with your knees.” Cory steadied her when she would’ve fallen off. His large calloused hands burned through the thin material of the shirt covering her waist.

Incredible yearnings to feel his hands slide lower blindsided her. She couldn’t string two coherent thoughts together or exhale air from her lungs. She’d never felt so exhilarated. So alive.

Perspiration had beaded her brow and upper lip by the time the bull slowed to a stop. Tendrils of damp hair clung to her heated cheeks.

“Your turn.” She laughed as Cory lifted her down from the mechanical critter. He didn’t move back so she slid down his length, into the curve of his arms, feeling every sinew, every muscle of him.

As if on cue, the band slowed their pace and crooned a song of love turned wrong. Pathos washed over them and Cory sang in her ear, his warm breath driving her mad. His hands kneaded her waist, mesmerizing her, setting her on fire.

<  5  >

     She’d never been engulfed in such flame, never been so mindless over any man. She didn’t even know where he lived or what he did for a living! All she knew was his name and that he had the most incredible effect on her and that he had the most kissable looking lips she’d ever laid eyes on.

She stared up at those lips: soft, yet firm and chiseled, darting out her tongue to lick her own suddenly dry lips. Undeniable hunger surged through her. She had to taste his lips, had to nibble them and tease them or she’d die. It was a photo-finish whether he leaned down to savor her lips first or if she tiptoed up to press her lips to his first. It wasn’t a contest but if it was, they were both winners.

No one had ever kissed her like this before. Not Patrick. Not Gary. Not any of their predecessors. Cory’s lips ignited fires deep in her belly, shooting fireworks through every nerve ending, and turning her knees to gelatin. If not for his strong arms encircling her waist or her arms latched around his neck, she’d have melted to the floor.

Instead, she strained against him, needing him fiercely, longing to be one with him. The feelings were so strong they scared her, yet she couldn’t break free. She’d rather stop breathing.

She wanted to protest when he drew away. Chill air chapped her bruised, swollen lips.

His gaze smoldered into hers. “Let’s check out the moonlight . . . . I’m getting claustrophobic.” His teeth nipped her earlobe, and then his tongue lathed her ear.

Arching her neck she shivered against him. He was right. They were too closed in it was too smoky in here. Fresh air and privacy lured her. When he captured her hand in his larger one, she let him lead her outside.

<  6  >

     Courtney flashed her a dazzling smile and gave her the thumbs up sign. She’d wrangled herself a cowboy, too – a young Robert Redford in a black cowboy hat that gazed at her with adoration and longing.

The music faded as Cory led her out to his truck. Crickets serenaded them and stars twinkled overhead in the Texas sky.

Warm fuzzies filled her and she looked at him seductively, giving into her urge to kiss him long and slow and rub her body against his. When he groaned into her mouth, she pressed closer. She knew she tempted him beyond all mercy. She shocked herself at her brazenness. But she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t get enough of him. No man had ever gotten under her skin like this one. Not so like lightening nor so deep.

Tomorrow didn’t matter, only here and now. She wanted him like she’d wanted no one else.

Then Courtney’s laughter sliced through the spell, and Cory pulled back. Not much, but their lips no longer plundered each other. Their bodies still curved against one another, sharing heat, trembling.

Mortified at her own response, she laughed self-consciously. Huskily, she murmured, “I’ve never behaved this way before. I’ve never . . . .”

He put his fingers over her mouth, shushing her. “You’ve never fallen head over heels in love at first glance before?” He stroked her hair. “Me neither. I think you’ve bewitched me.”

A slow, sexy smile dawned over his face that made her blood simmer. “Our hearts know each other.” He dragged her hand to his chest and she splayed her fingers over his rapidly beating heart.

She smiled back, deciding to follow her heart. He trembled as she traced his strong jaw line with her fingernail and she delighted in her effect on him. “Guess I caught myself a cowboy.”

<  7  >

     Cory blushed, craned his neck, and gazed up at the stars. In a gruff, hesitant voice he said, “I’m not a real cowboy.”

“No?” She let her gaze slide over his body, from the tip of his pointy, dusty cowboy boots, to his Texas tie. Languidly, she asked, “What are you then?”

“A venture capitalist from Chicago.” He cocked a half grin at her. “I thought I’d come here to find a good old fashioned country girl.”

The irony caught her off guard and she chuckled. “I’m from New York City. I wanted a good old fashioned country boy.”

His gaze turned serious as he hauled her back against him. “Too late. . . . I’m staking my claim and I’ll fight any of those cowboys that come near you.”

“Ditto, Sir. I didn’t really fancy living on the range with a lot of smelly cows anyway.” She rubbed her aching behind and admitted, “And I don’t ever want to ride that darn mechanical bull again as long as I live!”

Cory laughed. “Done. How about we hold any more talk till morning?” He nibbled her neck as his hands caressed her heated flesh.

All thought fled.

 

Horror story specials: BRAISED HEART by Grace Treutel | GBAMLOG.COM

When I saw him for the first time, I knew I had to have him for dinner.

It was in the ripe red of his mouth, the plush of his lower lip. The hollows of his cheeks were little inlets for his amusement, surprise dusting his high cheekbones from the shadows of his lashes.

“What, me?” was his answer, a laugh paused at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t even know you.”

I should have been embarrassed, but I wasn’t. I was under a thrall – his thrall. This beautiful, angled boy, with a halo of dark curls and pianist’s fingers. He touched his throat when he spoke, as though nervous I might tear it out with my teeth. As though inviting me to tear it out.

“Please,” I clarified. His prominent knuckles flashed over his sternum with the absent invitation of his hands – rip it out, they said, taste it. He was agreeing to my invitation without words, his hands beckoning even as his red mouth hesitated.

“… Okay. But only because you look posh, and I’m hungry. But I’m not down for anything weird.”

I thought about him the entire subway ride home. It wasn’t until I was three stops from my door that I realized he never gave me his name, nor did he ask for mine. He’d only wanted the address – he’d taken it with those eat me fingers, punching it into his phone as he repeated my words aloud.

“Seven o’clock,” I’d told him, before reconsidering. “Maybe six – seven is dinner time.”

An hour was enough time. An hour to find a recipe, to think of a way to impress him. To honor him.

My fingers ached from my grip when I released the pole at my stop, but it wasn’t the ache of overuse. It was something closer to unsatisfaction – I had been thinking of his throat, the flex of tendons and muscle as he laughed at me with that red, ripe mouth.

I was methodical in my kitchen, thinking back to all the meals I had made before. I wanted to get this one just right – I wanted to impress this boy.

Saffron, for his sensuality. Rosemary, to immortalize our evening. Plums, to mimic the shape of his mouth. A glaze, sticky and spicy, that would shine dark as varnish on his ivory skin, pool into the secret coves of his cheeks.

When the doorbell rang, the air was thick with the opiate scent of aromatics sizzling in pans. My heart felt hot and swollen. I decanted a bottle of dark wine into two glasses and imagined.

“Hey,” he said when I opened the door, glancing over my shoulder with naked curiosity. “I don’t usually do this, but you seem okay – damn, what are you making in there? It smells fantastic.”

I stepped aside and summarized my efforts for him. I wondered how my house looked through his eyes – old-fashioned, expensive. Dark. He was a smear of brilliance against my carefully curated backdrop, the thing that didn’t fit. Watching him move across my canvas made me feel drunk.

“What’s the dish?” he asked, shrugging off his coat. The wings of his shoulder blades shifted beneath his thin t-shirt, straining against the fabric like trapped, living things. I didn’t answer him.

Instead, I handed him the wine and tried not to stare as his throat clenched with every swallow.  My jaw ached like my fingers had, petulant with disuse.

I let him finish the entire glass before.

It was a wet, red thing, and I held him close as I obeyed the invitation of his fingers. My own against his chest and felt his heart beat up to meet their press. His glass shattered on the stone floor, the dark red of his wine kissing the dark arterial shade in a violent swirl. It was over quickly – six fifteen. Dinner was at seven. I moved with purpose.

It was a complicated dish, but I had gotten the sense that he was a complicated boy.

I worked until it was perfect. I plated it to perfection. I set out the dishes, one for me, one for him. I helped him into his seat, careful to avoid the ribbons of red spilling from his chin, arranging him until he was comfortable and patting his lovely knuckles once.

I sat down and he was staring at me, wide-eyed. It made me smile, bashful, but only just – I wasn’t used to the unbridled attention. He made me feel exposed in a way that I liked, his mouth parted slightly like overripe fruit that had burst a seam.

“Thank you,” I told him with a hint of nervousness, the inevitable bloom of self-consciousness that came with a first date. “For joining me for dinner.”

He said nothing, but the sweet drip drip of sentiment from his throat onto his plate was answer enough.

I smiled down into my plate and took a delicate bite of his braised, silent heart. He tasted like new romance.

Despite the earliness of the evening, I felt confident there would be a second.

Shock!!! As zoo keeper impregnates female orangutan

Zoo keeper impregnates female orangutan

A zoo keeper at Indonesia’s Surabaya zoo has been arrested and charged with sexual assault on animals and to extend of even impregnating a female orangutan.

According to the county’s local news agency “the Kalimantan Press” the 38-year-old zoo keeper was filmed in full action by series of hidden cameras put in place by the zoo’s security officials after doubts emerged about the man’s devious actions towards the zoo animals.

A colleague of the zoo keeper explained to the local press that some of the animals normally seemed sexually aroused anytime it is time to feed them.

“… what made us most suspicious was when we discovered that Marylin, our oldest orangutan, was three months pregnant. She has never been in contact with any other orangutans because of her aggressive nature, so it didn’t make any sense.” He explained.

The zoo officials admit it took them sometime before being able to accept what had actually happened.

“At first, we clearly did not comprehend what had happened. Marilyn has been secluded for the past 10 years, it was a total mystery. It is only when we placed several hidden cameras that we learned the horrible truth.” The authorities said.

When local authorities confronted the offender, he earlier denied any wrong doing, but later explained that everything he had done was consensual.

“… I’m very sorry I have impregnated the orangutan.” He told local reporters.
He added that he did not know orangutans could get pregnant from humans.

Source: worldnewsdailyreports

Religious Extremism: Islam Is A Religion Of Love by Chiedozie Ude

Chapter one

Abdul Dan-Ali was a devout muslim who had sworn to do whatever his religion dictated. He, alongside the Al-Khan Muslim Brotherhood, was determined to stop the westernisation of Kano State, and Nigeria in general. The last man to really tackle the immorality brought by the west and other religions into the region was the great Usman Dan-Fodio, the man who led the great Jihad in Northern Nigeria. ‘Those were the days,’ mused Abdul Dan-Ali, as he scratched the little rashes hiding underneath his full beards with his left hand while adjusting the locally woven mat he was seated on with his right hand, trapping a beetle crawling on the mat in the process.

Abdul Dan-Ali was quite sure that he saw the likeness of Usman Dan-Fodio whenever he looked at the man in the mirror. He was certain that Usman Dan-Fodio must have been as handsome and smart as he is. He smiled, as he allowed himself few minutes of vanity. He liked to think that if he were like the infidels, he would have had as much girlfriends as he wanted.

He was sure that he would be the man to instigate an Islamic revival in Nigeria, if death was the price to be paid, Abdul was willing to pay because the preaching of Imam Sodiq Mustapha, the cleric of the Al-Khan Muslim Brotherhood, on the benefits of dying for the cause sounded too right to be wrong. According to Imam Sodiq, ‘infidels have to be killed because they pollute the environment with their presence,’ and Abdul Dan-Ali was ready to answer the clarion call.

‘The infidels are not only those who do not worship the Almighty Allah but also those muslims who are hypocritical about the ways of Islam,’ Abdul Dan-Ali recalled, for this very words were spoken by the holy cleric Sodiq Mustapha.
Abdul Dan-Ali agreed wholeheartedly with the cleric, he believed that faltering muslims were bad eggs, and they should never be allowed in the midst of the real muslims.

Despite his conviction of the worthiness of the cause, Abdul could not help having his doubts about Imam Sodiq. The cleric was a charismatic leader, but sometimes, he made rash decisions. His latest decision was to send a message to Nigerians, to make them know that the Al-Khan Brotherhood was for real. He needed a sacrificial lamb for the suicide attack he was concocting. This attack would shake Nigeria to its core. The cleric had bestowed the honour of being the sacrificial lamb on Abdul Dan-Ali, and he felt the great fear of a looming death overwhelm him. He felt a bit cheated at first. ‘Why must it be me?’ He wondered, as he gazed into eyes of other members of the brotherhood, wondering if they felt relief or disappointment at not being chosen. He was sure that he saw Suleiman Bala, the newest member smile in relief. ‘The bloody coward!’

He wanted to question the cleric’s choice, but then, he remembered that dying for his faith was a huge privilege, and he was indeed lucky to have been chosen to carry out this holy task. He grew red with shame for ever having doubts about the whole thing, for after all, he had more than half a dozen virgins awaiting him in paradise. He allowed himself think of all the fun he would have with them, he would hit them hard just like he and his cronies did to every girl who was captured by them. It was so pleasurable to hear their screams of pain mingled with the moans of pleasure the girls always tried to mask. As usual, they would beg their rapists to stop, but yet, they were always very wet in their thighs, and most times, they moved to match their rapists’ thrusts. Abdul Dan-Ali was certain that they enjoyed being raped because most of them experienced powerful orgasms, and their wet thighs was the only proof he needed. Thinking of this made him quite hard as he made up his mind to handle Sarah, one of the girls captured by the brotherhood before nightfall. That same infidel who refused to renounce her christian faith.

Above raping the infidel girls, he enjoyed slitting their throats with his rusty old dagger, just like the way the decadent Christians do to their chickens every Christmas.’The slower their deaths, the better,’ he thought, as he tried to withhold the maniac like laughter that was threatening to emit from his throat.

He squashed the beetle slowly and smiled with insane pleasure as it danced the dance of death. It was time to make the infidels suffer. It was time to make Kano burn.

Watch out for chapter two!!!

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