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Auntie Bose by Chiedozie Ude

A nosy neighbour!!!

Aunty Bose was the pain of my life. She was one of those women who only smiled after telling on you, describing to your parents the mischief you had been up to during the day. She would use her toothpick-like arms to demonstrate the severity of your crimes by raising them really high like a choirmaster who sought high notes from his choristers. The essence of such action was to make one’s parents really angry, and this anger was surely going to be converted into a good beating. Sometimes, her stories were true; however, they were often exaggerated. But most times, they were simply the vengeful tales of a woman who hated everything about happy children.

Some of us called her “auntie” while the rest of the children living in the dilapidated two-storey building secretly called her a WITCH. Of course, it had to be done in secret because we knew she would cook up lies to avenge herself. Indeed, this description would prove to be apt.

To all the working-class parents, Aunty Bose was godsend because she was a sit-at-home wife –another name for joblessness. Aunty Bose’s availability meant that she could always keep an eye on other people’s children, watching out for faults the way a kite watches the movement of a potential prey. To summarise it all, she was adored by many parents. Who wouldn’t like a woman who helped you watch your kids for free while you were away?

The earliest memory I have of Auntie Bose was when she tied my hands and legs to the hands and legs of another boy because we were caught trying to draw water from the well. We were about five years old. To Auntie Bose, tying our hands and legs will stop our “touchy touchy” and our “waka waka”. No wonder why many parents respected Auntie Bose.

Now, I should not get all nice and warm in my description because none of the aforementioned adjectives could be used to describe Auntie Bose. She was the kind of woman who would store water in buckets at her backyard for days whenever our regularly-dry well decided to produce water. Most times, this water would turn green because she never had use for the extra she always stored. It was believed by many children and even adults that she intentional stored excess water so that others would have none when they needed water from the well. Perhaps, Auntie Bose was just being smart by storing water for the dry day. Nevertheless, I, alongside others, remained of the opinion that she was a witch — the greatest there was and the greatest there ever will be.

One would think that Aunty Bose would we satisfied with all she did; however, one was to be proven wrong because Aunty Bose was prowling about like the biblical roaring lion, seeking who to devour. Pardon my hyperbolic allusion. The major thing that got destroyed in her itinerary of doing mean things was our balls. Do not fret it, she was not completely devilish because, by “balls”, I literally mean “footballs” and not the other one you know.

The ability of Auntie Bose to put away balls was legendary for different types and colours of balls met their waterloo when they came in contact with her. Most times, she would use a knife to cut them into many pieces, throwing the pieces back at us in a bid to see our sad faces. Knife or not, we all knew that once balls got into her hands, they would never be released because she loved her balls: probably too much.

Surely, we were not going to sit for long without giving Auntie Bose her share of pain. The resistance started with us children refusing to give her her daily food — greetings. Many a time, we would intentionally pass where she was perched and blatantly refuse to greet her. Of course, her face would then become contorted into something really ugly. We could easily see the veins in her face swelling as blood, fueled by insane fury, rushed into them. We knew she would complain to our parents but we were past caring. In fact, we blatantly refused to surrender our footballs whenever she wanted to seize them; this was the beginning of her downfall, or was it?

One day, we decided to up the game. Auntie Bose had just smartly taken and destroyed our football so we swore vengeance. We had to hit her in a way it would hurt. So, plans were made and plans were discarded. Notwithstanding, there was one plan that stood the test of time. It was the plan. It was despicable!!!

Remember the buckets of water she regularly stored?? That was the plan. Undoubtedly, you will think that the plan was to steal the water or probably to pour it away. No! That was never the plan. The plan was much worse. It required the use of liquid to pollute liquid. The first and second liquids refer to URINE and WATER respectively.

Yes, we decided to urinate into her buckets, and we did. Some of us were to watch out for danger while the rest of us were to commit the act. However, everyone wanted a piece of Auntie Bose, so we committed the act together all the while laughing maniacally like villains do when they declare their intentions of world domination. We did not bother about getting caught because we knew that Auntie Bose went to the market. As we were creating a confluence of two waters, we heard a voice saying, “What are you doing?”

The voice belonged to Auntie Bose. She was back!!!!! She repeated, “What are you doing?”

As Time Flies

By Chiedozie Ude (May 20, 2017)

This is an old writeup. I hope it entertains you.

Like they all say, time waits for no one.

Today, instead of discussing religion or politics, I have decided to go back in time and narrate an incident which at first I did not find funny.

The year was 2013 and our SSCE results were out. I decided to go to Ilasa to see my friends. I had this friend called Dare Oke, a plump boy who seemed to roll instead of walking(we are still in touch). He, alongside I, decided to visit some girls (sisters) which I’ll call X and Y.

Being parochial, we hatched a plan to tell their mother that we had forgotten our WAEC registration number and we think that her daughters would help us remember them. Back then, this sounded like a master plan for we were sure that X and Y’s extremely smart mother will not suspect that we had other motives. The plan looked perfect; it was time to visit some ladies.

When we got to the house of X and Y, we could not garner the courage to knock at their door; so, we spent almost 30minutes rehearsing our speech, removing the parts we felt were wanton and also trying to embellish our speech with a plethora of high-sounding words because we knew that their mother was a tough one. We had to appear saintly.

At last we summoned courage and knocked, a maid opened the door and guess what?? We met them (the whole family) eating dinner. X and Y looked at us, really astonished that we had defied reason and common sense to visit them for we all knew quite well that their mother was a tyrant

The look we got from the mum could have frozen hell. In fact, I saw her eyes glint with danger. My heart melted. Maybe we were wrong to visit. We were in for it.

After dinner, their mum stood up and walked majestically across the room with the sure-footedness of an alpha wolf marking its territory. She was the embodiment of affluence, and also had this aura of charisma. To aptly describe her, she is the modern-day Madea in terms of sheer size.

God, she was huge! I don’t know why but for the first time I felt small, really tiny, and my nerve left me. I forgot all that we planned to say as the reason for our visit. In fact, the only thing that was still keeping me there was the fact that the doors were locked. Immediately she asked the first question which was “Why are you here?” I quickly blurted out that I was just escorting Dare, and in fact, I had no business there. Who WAEC registration number help?

😃😀😃

Time flies, I wish I could meet that mum again, let her see a Dozie void of fear, an alpha male.

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.

UDE, Chiedozie: Pragmatic Analysis of Chibok Girls. GBAMLOG.COM

Literature is so significant that it can perform a lot of functions. One of such functions definitely has to be the affective function. Literature can be affective when it aims to produce certain effects on the reader. Having established this fact, it is ideal to state that this essay aims to display the affective power of literature by conducting a pragmatic analysis of the text Chibok Girls.

The text in question has its characters and setting drawn from real life; hence, it can be described as a realistic text. It contains the investigations carried out by Helon Habila in the North-Eastern part of Nigeria. The investigation revolves around the history and causes of insecurity in Nigeria. Because of the presence of the writer at strategic places that have been affected by violence instigated by the dreaded sect, Boko Haram, this text can be described as one which contains first-hand information on the prevalent issues plaguing the country.

The title of the text is significant because it captures the most notable and internationally-recognised crime perpetuated by Boko Haram — that is, the abduction of 276 school girls on the 24th April, 2014, by Boko Haram. This title, however, does not constitute the focal point of this report. Rather, it serves as an instance which illustrates the ruthlessness of the Boko Haram sect.

Insecurity, as highlighted in the text, is as a result of activities such as terrorism, bad governance, corruption, religious-instigated violence etc. All these issues no doubt are bound to have certain didactic or other forms of effects on the reader. Some of these effects include: pity, fear, anger, apathy, and the didactic lesson of early prevention.

Pity is one of the major effects this text has on the reader. This is plausible because ruthless and despicable acts of Boko Haram on harmless civilians will without doubt draw out the pity of the audience. A good example is how the mother of Riskatu, one of the abducted girls, is made to narrate the painful events of the day her daughter was kidnapped. This instance, surely, is significant because it captures the pain and suffering which the parents and the relations of the abducted girls are going through because of their ignorance on the status of their daughters — that is, are they alive or are they dead? Another object of the reader’s pity has to be the abducted girls who will now serve as wives and concubines of terrorists instead of being with their families and completing their education. Unarguably, the pragmatic effect of pity is brought to the fore through the theme of terrorism.

Another pragmatic effect the text will likely have on the audience is that of fear. Human beings are creatures who fear a lot of things, ranging from known and unknown dangers. In the case of this text, the reader’s fear is justified because of several reasons. One of these reasons has to be the reader’s in-depth knowledge of the activities of this sect, and another reason for the reader’s fear, obviously, is the fact that the reader is a Nigerian; hence, he is not completely safe from the violence caused by the nonchalance of the government towards small and large-scale criminal activities and, of course, violence instigated by religious extremism as seen in the way Yusuf, the elder brother of Shekau, was able to spur his followers to commit several atrocities, and also, through the Maitatsine Uprising, as described by Helon Habila in the text. Hence, one can be certain to say that the themes of violence, terrorism, religious extremism etc., are sure to instigate the feeling of great fear in the reader.

When talking about the pragmatic effect this text has on the reader, one is sure to mention anger. The reader is surely going to experience anger at the government because of their nonchalant attitude towards fighting crime and safeguarding the lives and property of Nigerians. This attitude is captured by Habila in the way he narrates the transition of different government and the way they have all handled insecurity with levity. The focus, however, centres on Jonathan’s regime as president because it was during his tenure that the Boko Haram sect committed their most notable atrocity — that is, the abduction of the school girls from Chibok. The security agencies are also not innocent. Habila, through his report, captures instances where soldiers decided to collect bribes instead of arresting offenders. Surely, the callousness of the government officials and military personnel will surely emit the anger of the reader.

Furthermore on the pragmatic effect this novel has on the reader is that of apathy. Apathy in this sense means disinterest. This disinterest encompasses both religious and political participation. Because of the extreme way in which the insurgents attacked churches, many Christians, especially those living in areas in the North, will, of course, find it difficult to feel safe during church service; hence, they will end up avoiding service to God. An example of Boko Haram’s ruthless way of dealing with Christians is captured by Reverend Madu’s story on how his church was attacked. Muslims themselves are not exempted from religious apathy. Habila reports stories of clerics who were killed because they spoke against the tenets of Boko Haram. All these acts of violence against religious institutions will surely make the readers feel discouraged about religion.

Still on apathy as a pragmatic effect, one can, of course, not gainsay the fact that the activities of Boko Haram has caused a lot of people to become apathetic towards politics. This is evident in that there has been no elections in Chibok for years because of the fears of an attack by the terrorists. This political apathy will surely manifest itself in the reader because they will, without doubt, contemplate their safety during elections, and this will ultimately make them sit at home instead of voting. Another cause of political apathy definitely has to be the Nigerian irresponsible government. Helon Habila does not mince words as he reports how the government both at federal and state level have played huge roles in the current malaise of insecurity plaguing the country. Knowledge of this irresponsibility on the part of the government is likely to make the reader brand everyone in politics as birds of a feather; hence, the reader will surely show nonchalance towards politics.

Finally, the didactic lesson that can be learnt from Habila’s report is that early action by the government towards the prevention of crime is the solution to insecurity in the country. Habila draws attention to this by constantly reporting or emphasising how the various governments in Nigeria have ignored the signs of an uprising until it became out of hand as seen in the Maitatsine Uprising and Boko Haram Insurgency. Because history is deemed as a great teacher, it is expected that Nigerians (both the government and the readers) should learn from past mistakes in order to avoid repeating these errors.

In conclusion, the text Chibok Girls is one which captures the realities of people living in Nigeria. It is set in Nigeria; therefore, it may be regarded as one which will have lots of pragmatic effects on Nigerian readers. Some of these effects have been discussed in this essay; thus, proving that the text Chibok Girls is one which can be defined based on its affective powers on the reader.

Ude, Chiedozie Orji.

CALL FOR VOLUNTEERS!!!

Dear Esteemed Readers,
LITC — LOVE IS THE CURE — is hosting its second charity outreach on the 27th of December, 2019. So, you all are cordially invited to take part in it. Assist us in any way you can. We receive donations in form of cash, clothes, food items and toys. Join us today, as we spread the love during this period.

For more information on this, text or call the following numbers:
1. Chiedozie Ude *09090953414*
2. Chidinma Okonkwo *08180073734*
3. Afolabi Shobowale *08183848314*
4. Ekene Muolokwu *08127866274*
5. Andre Orji *08105463252*
6. Tochukwu Okoronkwo *08145697832*

Mimetic Analysis of Bomboy. Chiedozie Ude. Gbamlog.com

The novel Bomboy revolves around the character of Leke, a single young man who is portrayed as quite restless and antisocial; hence, he develops the habit of stalking women and stealing irrelevant things from people. He later finds out through a series of letter written to him by his biological father that the cause of his queer mannerisms stems from a generational curse placed on his family by a witch doctor whom they wronged. Having found the source of his troubles, Leke embarks on a mission to rid himself of the curse. All the events in the story prove that the novel Bomboy is one that can be analysed based on the verisimilitude it shares with the human society.

The novel Bomboy is rich in content in that it displays the relationship between modernity and tradition as it portrays human life. The novel portrays modernity through several ways. One of such ways is highlighted through the author’s depiction of a plethora of instances when Leke seeks modern and professional help in his search for rest and peace of mind. By so doing, themes such as: the universal theme of cultural conflict, as depicted by the clash between the Nigerian and South African beliefs; the theme of identity; the theme of love; the theme of racial discrimination; and the theme of the despicable nature of the prison system etc., are projected by the author. All the aforementioned help reinforce the argument that this novel contains some present issues faced by people in the society.

However, it is, arguably, the author’s use of traditional events that make this novel really stand out. By fusing tradition into the story, the author, who is of the Yoruba origin, has been able to reinforce several notions postulated by other Yoruba authors such as Wole Soyinka in Death and the King’s Horseman, Femi Osofisan in Women of Owu and Ola Rotimi in his Nigerian adaptation of Sophocles Oedipus Rex — that is, The Gods are not to Blame. One of these notions is the belief in the gods and their ability to affect destinies. Consequently, we have the theme of fate. All these themes combine to strengthen the argument that Bomboy is a realistic work of art with happenings that are peculiar to man.

The theme of fate can be considered as central to this story. The author develops this theme by employing several literary devices such as flashback, suspense and other factors such as happenstance. Through these devices, the theme of fate is established and the reader is also able to link different events to the subject matter. One may be tempted to argue that the author’s use of similar dates to convey past events that have significant effects on present events is purely coincidental. However, it simply strengthens the argument that everything has been premeditated by the gods. Hence, one can be justified to describe the gods as domineering and all powerful because they are capable of determining the destinies of man. This theme of fate is arguably most prominent in the life of Oscar, who from a very little age realises that he will never know peace or be happy because of the curse of the witch doctor, an emissary of the gods, on his family. Therefore, one can be justified to declare that it is the pronouncement of the gods that made Leke to behave awkwardly.

Another theme that is worthy of attention is the theme of cultural conflict. The concept of cultural conflict is a universal phenomenon which appears in many works of art. This theme is portrayed by Oscar who finds it difficult to get along with his South African colleagues because of his belief in the stories which surround the mythical and ancestral Queen Moremi of Ile-Ife. Because of this belief, Oscar fails to acknowledge South African heroes such as Rhodes. This clash of beliefs adequately sums up the tensions that plague the relationship between Nigerians and South Africans in the modern era — that is, 21st Century.

Closely related to the theme of cultural conflict is the theme of identity, another universal concept. The theme of identity is brought into focus in this book through the plights of biracial people. Both Leke and his father are the products of interracial unions; hence, they can hardly pass as whites or as blacks. This issue plagues Leke’s childhood because he gets bullied by school mates who recognise, through his white foster parents, that he was adopted. Another instance which reinforces the theme of identity is Leke’s name. Leke, because he was not raised by his biological parents, is forced to answer awkward questions about the meaning of his name and its origin.

The theme of love is another recurring idea which helps to project realism in the text. Love, however abstract, may be regarded as the force behind the actions of the characters. For example, Oscar’s grandmother is motivated by her love for her daughter; hence, she refuses to honour her promise by withholding her daughter. Unarguably, love may also be regarded as the catalyst behind Oscar’s decision to have Malcom Feathers killed. Also, everything Jane does for Leke is motivated by love and this explains why he really adores her, even after death, as seen in his ritual of planting 4 o’clock flowers. The budding love affair between Leke and Tsotso cannot be exempted. Through this theme, the characters have been able to vividly portray the sacrifices humans can do for their loved ones.

Another theme which ensures that this novel possesses verisimilitude with its environment is the theme which captures the despicable nature of the South African prison system. The South African prison system neither rehabilitates or reforms. Rather, it is a place where different vices such as murder, homosexuality, rape violence, etc., thrive. The pathetic situation of these prisons are vividly portrayed in Dennis Brutus poem: “Letters to Martha” where Dennis Brutus describes in detail the atrocities that are committed by inmates on one another. This inter-textual evidence strengthens the theme being discussed because it proves the truism of the theme through the similarities in the way the inmates in both texts act —that is, violence, homosexuality and killing are the order of the day. With all this evidence, one will surely not receive Oscar’s death in prison with much surprise. Therefore, one cannot gainsay the fact that the theme of the despicable nature of the South African prison system as portrayed in Bomboy captures the reality of prisoners in South Africa, and by extension, prisoners all over the world.

In conclusion, the text Bomboy is one which portrays real life with its setting — places drawn from real life; themes — ideas that are universal; and character actions etc.

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.

09090953414

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

“Man Find Out All His 5 Kids Are Not His, 2 Are From His Family Doctor” – Apostle Suleman Reveals. GBAMLOG.COM

Apostle Johnson Suleman on his Twitter handle asks for people’s opinion as he tells the story of a man who recently realised that his two sons were not his biological children.

According to the popular cleric tweet which reads “A man suddenly found out his 5 kids are not entirely his…. 2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife…he wants to divorce and send the kids away. thou he’s grown to love them so much… What do you think?…”

Apst Johnson Suleman

@APOSTLESULEMAN
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..
1,657
2:28 PM – Aug 14, 2019
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See reactions from Nigerians below;

Apst Johnson Suleman

· Aug 14, 2019
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..

Asiegbu Precious
@Itzpreshkeyz
First of all, the Bible doesn’t support divorce so that’s not an option for. The man. Secondly, the children have frown to know and love him as a father and I’m sure the man also loves them as his children, so I’ll advise he holds unto them and keep being that father figure.
3
8:53 AM – Aug 15, 2019
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Apst Johnson Suleman

· Aug 14, 2019
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..

kobiechie
@kobiechie1
He should keep them as his kids… The father love is there.. Being a father is not about the bloodline but the love shown toward a child
95
2:30 PM – Aug 14, 2019
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Apst Johnson Suleman

· Aug 14, 2019
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..

Remi Ibinola RIO
@reminola
He should humble himself and find out where he went wrong.
162
6:57 PM – Aug 14, 2019
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Apst Johnson Suleman

· Aug 14, 2019
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..

Mutinta
@Mutinta59404658
Raising kids doesn’t mean they have to be yours,if he has grown to love them he can aswel decide to keep them it isn’t their fault at all,concerning the marriage!!!God hates divorce yes,but the decision is entirely up to him whether to keep his marriage or send her away
4
2:32 PM – Aug 14, 2019
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Apst Johnson Suleman

· Aug 14, 2019
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..

Jackson Rossett@ AfricanTrumpfan
@RossettJackson
I’ll visit a custody lawyer to find out what I can do to keep the kids. With all the love shared… it will be extremely difficult to let go. how do I live without them, where do I start from. I rather bear the pain and fight for ways to keep this children.
3
2:52 PM – Aug 14, 2019
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Apst Johnson Suleman

· Aug 14, 2019
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..

Donald Doo
@RealDonaldDoo
Being a father is not only about those who biologically yours, Sir, a lot of times people have grown to love and call people father or mother when they didn’t give birth to them.
God has blessed him with children, let him keep them.
92
2:41 PM – Aug 14, 2019
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Apst Johnson Suleman

· Aug 14, 2019
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..

Idahosa Omoregie
@__King_David
First thing first , he should ask the holy spirit for help . if he still loves the wife he can keep her because at least three kids are still his, for the other that are not his should know their father but if he wants to keep them he should get a legal claim for them by a lawyer
15
2:39 PM – Aug 14, 2019
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Marriage is an agreement between two people who have found love in each other and has decided to commit their relationship from just dating or courting, to tying the knot in a together forever journey.

To breach the contract of the agreement as far as marriage is concerned is to defile the bed by involving in adultery.

Hence, the action of the wife and the doctor is a total act of treachery, betraying the trust of the man and making him love and raise the children of another man, not just anyone but his family doctor, it is indeed heartbreaking.

With various suggestion coming from Nigerians on what the man should do, what do you suggest the man should and likewise what should be done to the woman?

Lets’s hear your opinion in the comments section below and don’t forget to like and share.

Source: dailyadvent.

Analysis on Matiiku by Chiedozie Ude. GBAMLOG.COM

Ude, Chiedozie Orji.
Department of English, UNILAG

Analysis on Matiiku

It is no news that trying to analyse a live performance is a tricky job. This trickiness may be as a result of different factors such as place and time— or more impressive, the complex nature of literature. Notwithstanding this difficulty, this paper will make an attempt to critically analyse the stage play entitled Matiiku. This essay will succinctly summarise the play and its subject matter, making use of factors such as the stage management and the gestures (which some may refer to as body language) of the actors to defend the choice of subject matter. The attention that will be paid to the factors stated above stems from the technical nature of the dialogue — that is, it was, to a very large extent, exclusively performed in the Yoruba language. However, the focus on the gestures and stage management does not in any way downplay the usefulness of the dialogue in this analysis because its importance in making the play fit its setting, and also, its subject matter cannot be overlooked. Also, it is important to note that this essay will include foreign references — that is, events or even books outside the narrative — which will be used support the arguments expressed in this paper. All these will be combined to comprehensively analyse this play.

This segment of the essay will comment on the playwright and the setting of the play. Not much is known about the playwright; hence, we move on to the setting of the play. The play is set during the colonial era, and this is reinforced through the manner in which the stage was set, and the numerous festivities which took place — the market scene; the baby/ritual scene; and the court dispute between the colonial district officer and the people. The latter is unarguably the strongest supporter of the claim that the play is set during the colonial era because it not only captures the communication problems that plagued the colonial masters due to their inability to grasp the local languages employed by their subjects, but also captures the presence of the white man (The district officer); hence, justifying the time setting— that is, the colonial period. The place setting of the play is Lagos. The introduction of three characters at the beginning of the play who represent the three white-cap chiefs of Lagos is testament to this fact. They, unequivocally, strengthen the play’s genre — that is, a historical play.

The subject matter of the play revolves around a man, who was predestined to be king, right from birth. This information was exposed by the narrator, before the start of the play. Hence, one can say that the plot of the play is based on the child, whom the oracle chooses as king. As expected, he becomes the king of Lagos once he attains adulthood; although, the colonial government later wrestled power from him. It is important to state that the fulfillment of the prophecy on the life of the king is a common motif in Yoruba themed plays— that is, the oracle can never be wrong— such as Ola Rotimi’s The Gods are Not to Blame, where the pronouncements of the oracle on the main character comes to pass. Therefore, one can be justified to state that there is a theme of fate (inevitable destiny) in the play. Another thing that is worthwhile to discuss is how the scenes in the play are linked by an interlude of music and dance. These performances (music and dance) may be regarded as entertaining because of the choreographic dance steps employed by the dancers. Being a traditional play, these songs should have deeper meanings, but that is not the focus of this essay. So, this analysis will rate the musical interlude from the standpoint of pleasure and entertainment.

One may describe the stage management as almost impeccable due to the perfect way the stage was set to represent the setting, and also, their flawless deployment of the lighting technique. To me, it is this lighting technique that makes the play stand out. The lights came up when and where necessary, not a second too early or late. Unarguably, the lighting technique was most effective when it was employed to show time — that is, day and night. This topnotch use of this technique is also brought to the fore when the lights were dimmed during the ritual scene. The solemnity and sacredness of the rituals were well captured by the eerily spooky umbrella of semi-darkness. This was enough to make the watcher understand the importance of these rituals. Another important thing I noticed due to the arrangement of the stage is the market scene. The market scene is crucial in traditional plays. The market is known as a place where rumours and stories thrive. Little wonder the birth of the would be king is announced in the market setting. The market scene is also ideal for announcement of the king’s birth because it reinforces Soyinka’s principle in Death and the King’s Horseman of the market place being a strategic location for the meeting of the three realities in Yoruba mythology — that is, the world of the unborn; the world of the living; and the world of the dead. It is important to note that the market place also serves as a link between these realities. Hence, this well believed myth strengthens the writer’s use of the market scene to announce a transition — that is, from the world of the unborn to the world of the living. The stage management was described as almost impeccable at the beginning of the paragraph because it had slight flaws. One of such flaws is the bad sound systems used in the play. Aside this, one can be justified to give the stage management crew an excellent score for a job well done.

Also, the gestures of the actors also enable non speakers of the Yoruba language to have an insight on some of the happenings in the play. The slow pace, with which those who are to make prophecies on the child move, gives insight to the audience that these men must be truly special and of high importance in the society. The greatness which is proclaimed on the baby is evident when the priests and other spectators bow to the child. However, the child’s mother refuses to bow to her child; hence, bringing into play the African belief that expects a child to prostrate himself to his parents, and not the other way round.

In conclusion, if I were asked to give my personal opinion on the play, I would rate it as a largely successful performance. The topnotch techniques employed by the stage management crew played a huge role in this. As a member of the audience who could not fully grasp the dialogues, I was entertained by the dance interlude. Hence, I can boldly describe the play as a successful one. In conclusion, this essay has made an attempt to analyse the production of the play Matiiku.

Works cited:
Ola Rotimi’s The Gods are Not to Blame.
Wole Soyinka’s Death and the King’s Horseman.

+18 ROMANCE : THE SIGHT OF HER LEGS | GBAMLOG 

The Sight of Her Legs

by IsaacTolkien

Copyright© 2019 by IsaacTolkien

He saw the brown-haired girl sitting at the front. She was the only girl in the room wearing shorts, and her legs were perfect. Her skin appeared so soft and smooth that he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the long shining limbs of perfection. She had on a blue sweater above it, a sweater with a gold zipper drawing a beeline to her bright red lips. He wondered what it would be like to kiss those bright red lips, gaze into those shining blue eyes, stroke those legs, caress that delightfully slim waist.

She was the last in the circle of food bank volunteers, and it was her turn to introduce herself at the orientation meeting. “My name is Jen,” she said in a sweet, sincere voice, “and I’m a senior at Connolly High. I’m here ‘cause I want to help those less well off than me. Also my school has a community service requirement to graduate…”. He didn’t pay as much attention to her actual words, listening more to the sound of her voice, quivering with the nervousness that comes from addressing a group of two dozen strangers, but it charmed him with its cuteness. She was such a sweet little thing.

He himself had told his particulars to the group a few minutes before. His name was Mark, he was thirty-nine years old, unmarried, had volunteered at the food bank because he felt it was his civic duty. Actually, he was there because he couldn’t endure the empty silences in his apartment, but that didn’t seem like a good thing to tell everyone.

Jen finished and sat down. The group leader started to drone on, but Mark was no longer listening. He was thinking of the beautiful girl opposite him, her simple, yet tantalizing shape and demeanor. She looked so precious, and yet so luscious. He wanted to pinch her cheek. Or kiss her cheek. Or kiss her lips.

His mind began to wander. He imagined her lips melting against his, his tongue probing greedily into her mouth. He thought of her chest pressed against his, her breathing starting to quicken. He wondered what it would be like to lower the zipper of those jeans, to see her waist wiggle as it slid off.

I want her, Mark thought. I want to see what she looks like naked, lick my chops at her perfect pussy, stick my dick deep inside her and shoot off my load. She can’t be more than eighteen years old. Dammit! What could she see in a man like me, twice her age?

That night Mark couldn’t get Jen out of his mind. He lay in bed, thinking about those legs, those sinuous legs, those legs that seemed to be made from a material that transcended the world and took him somewhere far away. His cock hardened into erection, oozing precum, by the sheer power of the memory of her face, her body. The way she stood, the way her legs shone in the light as everyone had walked to the parking lot on the way out. He lay there, his cock jerking, until he could endure no more, and masturbated himself to climax, wishing all the while that it was her hand on his cock instead of his own.


“We’ll put you in teams of two; one for each set of boxes, ok? Taylor, you go with James. Steve; you’re with Penny. Jen … you’ll sort with Mark.”

“Jen, you’ll sort with Mark!” Mark nearly jumped out of his chair. For an entire afternoon he would be sorting donated food across the table from a girl whose image he had masturbated to every night for a week. He was actually trembling when he got to his spot, but Jen wasn’t there. Typical, she probably wants to hang with some handsome guy instead of me, he thought gloomily. With a sigh, he set about the work of sorting the huge pile of cans, jars, and boxes all by himself.

Then he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Hi Mark!”

There she was, the bright red lips, the pretty blue eyes, the smooth long brown hair. She was smiling at him. She was quite short, several inches shorter than he, but he still felt very small in her sensuous presence. He could only gape, not just at her, but at her outfit. She had on a plain white top and a very short skirt. Connolly High School, it said in bright red letters. “Sorry I’m late,” he could hear her saying, “but I had to go to cheerleading practice after school.” He nodded, gesturing towards the cans, “R … right over there … you can do th … that side” he sputtered. She giggled and got to work.

Mark could feel his heart racing. Years before, when he had been in high school, his dreams had been filled with the image of cheerleaders with their warm smiles and flitting short skirts. He remembered how they would jump up, often showing their panties, at the victories of the football team. Mark had not been on the football team. He was captain of the debating team, and had won prizes at math contests, but cheerleaders never went to that kind of event. He had always longed for the touch of their soft nubile bodies…

“So tell me about yourself, Mark!”

She was talking to him! He stared back at her, never hard to do with a pretty teenager in a cheerleader’s uniform. He tried to look into her eyes as he answered, but some mystical force sent his eyes back down to her bare, smooth legs.

“I’m … I’m an eng-engineer.”

“An engineer? That’s so cool! You must be really smart!”

He blushed.

“So what kind of engineering do you do?”

“Um … I … um … well … I do dig … digital imaging. Scanners and graphics and stuff.” He had given entire presentations on this topic elsewhere, but with this little girl it was all he could do to blurt out a sentence. She grinned at him, almost as if to reassure.

“So you’re like, into photography and stuff like that?”

“Y-yes. I do a lot of that work … I have a portfolio, in fact.”

“You do? I’d love to see it sometime! I love photography!”

“Th-that’s great!”

“Do you think you could give me some tips?”

This … this sweet little delight was interested in him? Nonsense, he thought, you’re just a mentor figure to her. She’s probably thinking of you just like one of her teachers at school. At that thought, he couldn’t help looking at her shapely legs again, and wished with all his heart that he was a teacher, and could spend half his day looking at pretty girls.

She continued chatting with him as they sorted, and gradually he trembled less, relaxed, and grew more comfortable. She had such a sweet smile, and a delightful, almost angelic face. His eyes roved over her body constantly as they talked and sorted. Seeing that short little skirt, barely covering her underpants, he wondered at what delights lay underneath. What would it be like to lift that skirt up, to pull those panties down, to fondle the ass and pussy that lay hidden inside it?

On the way home after the work was done, Mark’s mind was filled with thoughts of that luscious teenage body. Have to get her out of my head, he thought, and pulled out his phone. His bookmark collection had all the right links. One web site was headlined by a brown-haired girl, with a caption brashly saying, “SPURT YOUR JISM IN MY MOUTH!” She looked a little like Jen, though not quite as pretty. He scrolled through the site. There were the usual pictures of naked women, women spreading their vagina lips wide, women’s mouths hovering over a cock, women’s lips touching another woman’s lips. He thought of Jen doing all those things, and the telltale bulge began to surge in his pants.

“Hi Mark!”

He looked down. It was Jen! He turned beet red, teeth chattering. She had caught him looking at porn! Surely she’ll think I’m a pervert now. He gingerly started to put the phone away, but she was all smiles. “You don’t have to put it away.”

“I’m sorry … I … what?”

“I love those sites! In fact, can I tell you a secret?”

“Okay.”

“Let me whisper it in your ear.”

He bent down and her lips grazed his ear. He felt a tingle run through him as he felt her breath, but that paled into comparison to what he felt next. “I want have my own site like that one day!”

Mark’s jaw dropped and he stared at her, no longer attempting to hide the lust in his eyes. She grinned impishly. “When you said you were into photography, I even hoped if you might take some pictures of me!”

His eyes widened. He could not seem to get any words out.

As if in a dream, he heard his mouth uttering the words. “I would be glad to … you must come to my studio sometime.”

“Okay.” She smiled. “Where is it?”

“Um … the corner of Gilmore and Anderson.”

“Okay,” she said. “Could we make it this Saturday?”

This Saturday. Five days! “S-sure. What, um, what time do you think?”

“How about three?”

“Three, three … yes, of course. Three’s fine.”

“So we’ll see you then!” She started to head out, but turned around and said, “Enjoy your sites!” licking her lips wickedly. Mark felt his face turning red, but he also felt his erection rising within him.

The next five days seemed to last forever. At night, lying in bed, Mark let his imagination run wild, dreaming of Jen’s seductive body, fantasizing about having her, drinking in her lush youthfulness. Every night the image of Jen drove his dick to throbbing ecstasy, and every night he exploded into his hands and sheets, wishing only that it was her soft flesh that was receiving his cum.

Three o’clock on Saturday came. Mark had already been there over two hours, straightening everything out, making everything as spotless and organized as it had ever been. I’m still trying to impress the girls, he thought, still, at my age. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Jen! He rushed upstairs.

There she was in front of the door. She was wearing a white halter top and a white skirt, a very short skirt that seemed to cover very little. He gaped at her navel, round and inviting. He gawked at her curvaceous waist, which seemed almost designed to lock his eyes onto them like a homing beacon.

Wordless, he motioned her inside, and down the stairs to the studio. She playfully danced down them as he trudged behind her, almost like a priest following a goddess. She was such a pretty, cheerful girl!

He got out his camera, and they went to work. As a model, she was a photographer’s dream, eager to perform, thinking of the next pose almost as soon as the shutter clicked, hardly needing any prompting or correction.

Jen standing in front of one of his backgrounds, grinning. Snap. She puts her leg on a stool, giving the camera a straight view of her panties. Snap. Teasingly, she begins to lift her skirt up. Snap. She starts to slide out of her uniform. Snap.

And then she was standing there in her underwear, and Mark’s cock was as hard as a rock. He had never in his life seen a pretty teenage girl wearing so little. He stared at her, her delightfully curved waist, the luscious breasts under her bra, the inviting V-shape of her panties. She looked at the wet spot on his crotch and giggled. “You know what I think,” she said, “when you’ve got the asses, show the masses!” She turned around and bent over, flaunting her half-covered ass in his face.

He took a picture of that, and many other things. She lay down coyly, leering at the camera. She knelt on the floor, tugging at the underwear. She stood plainly, smiling, as her nearly nude image was recorded.

They had already filled up one micro-disk, but she said, “Now comes the fun part.”

“The – fun part?”

“Yep.” With a quick motion, she peeled off her underwear, and stood there, as naked as the day she was born. Mark’s eyes bulged. Her pubic hair was also dark brown, straight and smooth, as fine as a lion’s mane. He could see the small outline of her pussy lips, luring him into their delights.

“I want you to take pictures of me naked.”

He stared. “Naked?”

“Yup. I’m gonna sell them on the Net. Lots of guys visit my web site and want nude pictures of me, and I figure that now that I’m eighteen, I can give them what they want, and make some money doing it.”

Mark felt himself starting to shake. She knelt down and spread her legs wide, grinning at him. “Does this turn you on?” she asked. Embarrassed, he could only nod. “OK, then take pictures of me whenever you’re turned on. Then I know the pic you’re taking is really hot!”

Mark started to click more pictures. Jen on her knees, fingers pointing invitingly at her pussy. Jen playfully revealing her breasts, pulling up her shirt. Jen lying on her side, seductively, the curves of her body tantalizing Mark so much he found himself wiggling.

Seeing how uncomfortable he was, Jen said, “You know Mark, I know you have a big hard-on. Why don’t you unzip your pants so you can be more comfortable?” It felt like a dream. Mark’s dick sprang out his zipper opening, pointing straight at Jen, visibly wet on its end.

She looked at it, wonderingly. She found that looking at it to be a quick and simple way of gauging the effectiveness of her poses. She wanted to use the power of her body, wanted Mark and men like him to hunger for her, desire for her, long to ravish and take her nubile form.

For Mark, the evening seemed like a dream. It was a dream, a fantasy, a pretty nude teenage girl dancing and prancing around in the most provocative poses she could think of. Visions of her luscious breasts, her silken thighs, her glistening pubic hair, her shimmeringly curved body blurred his vision and fogged his brain, so much so that he could scarcely now tell the difference between fantasy and reality.

Was that really her? Jen, the teenage hottie, saying that he deserved a reward for his work? Was that her hand touching his cock, fumbling at his pants, letting in a rush of air on his now naked skin? No, surely this isn’t real, he thought, surely I’m not being pushed into my sofa, surely Jen is not kneeling before me, mouth moving towards my dick. But it was real. She was really there. She brought her mouth closer to the head of his cock and kissed it quickly on its head.

A tingle of electricity surged through his body. He found himself sprawled on the couch, his cock as hard as a ramrod. He gazed down at Jen’s angelic face. She looked up at him and smiled, a sweet, innocent smile that excited him so much that he squirmed, his dick slapping against her cheeks. Laughing, she opened her mouth wide, impossibly wide. He saw it envelop his cock, felt the wet moisture of her breath on him.

A beautiful eighteen-year-old is sucking my cock, seared the thought into his brain. He felt the softness of her tongue massage his underside. He felt her go down, licking over his balls, nibbling on his inner thighs, teasing his groin, then swirling her tongue around the head of his cock again. He was moaning loudly now, feeling his body teased almost to the breaking point.

He looked down again and nearly fainted. There she was, her lovely mouth taking his cock all the way inside. “I’m gonna cum,” he said, but in response she only quickened the pace of her sucking. He felt wild abandon as his orgasm pulsed, flooding her young mouth with his cum. “Oh god, oh god oh god oh god,” he nearly screamed. His entire body was spent, and he was heaving.

Jen rose to her feet, her eyes twinkling, her body naked as a jaybird. He looked again at her perfect breasts, her inviting pubic hair, the rhythmic curves of her nubile body. She looked at him straight in the face and ostentatiously swallowed. Mark’s eyes widened in their sockets. She grinned, then turned around, wiggling her butt invitingly at him as she walked over to the mattress.

She flopped down onto it and spread her legs wide. Mark got up, advancing towards her, wanting to take that young body, wanting to ravish it, possess it, luxuriate in its youth and splendor and beauty. He looked at her beautiful pussy, saw the moisture on it glistening in the light, and felt his heart race. He saw her clit strutting between her lips proudly, confident in itself, standing at attention in the wonder that was her nudity. Then she said the words he longed to hear.

“Take me.”

Mark didn’t need to be told twice. She was his, a naked teenage girl, to fuck and suck and lick as he pleased. He felt the fire within him stir at the sight of her legs, spread open invitingly, tantalizing him with her fruits. He jumped onto her body, hands grasping, groping, his lips tearing into her, his breath hard on hers, his cock stabbing into her body. “Give it to me! Give me your dick!” she screamed. He almost crushed her with his weight, feeling his own body writhe and squirm as the wild passion coursed through him.

He swung back his hips and rammed his cock inside her, thrusting, hard, like a maniac, filled with lust, consumed with desire for that juicy young teenage flesh. I’m going to have her, he thought, I’m really going to have her. He fucked her as hard as he could, jolting his body into hers with all the force he could muster. Her face was writhed in desire, her eyes were rolling, her voice was moaning. He could feel the wetness of her pussy juices on his loins, the pressure of her pussy squeezing his cock.

“Yes … YES…” she screamed out as he felt her body tighten, shake, and vibrate into orgasm. The pressure of her pussy lips on his ramrod made him explode in a shattering climax of his own. His juice flooded into her, creaming her insides, exhausting them both with the sheer force and verve of its impact.

There they lay on the floor together, their bodies tingling, their minds racing. Mark still could hardly believe this was happening, all the more so when he felt the touch of Jen’s lips on his. It was a sweet, slow, soft kiss, the kind of kiss that can put a perfect finishing touch to a day of sheerest magic. He held her tightly against him, feeling her breasts on his chest and her ass in his hand.

“You know, you’re a really cool guy,” Jen said softly. “I’ve thought of asking other guys to do my photos but I’ve never felt comfortable with anyone like I do with you.”

“I have never in my life met a girl like you before.”

“I’m gonna need lots of pictures for my site, videos too. I could come over every week after the food bank and we could take some more? Would that be ok?”

Mark’s eyes widened.

“I can’t pay you though … at least … not with money,” she said slyly. He looked again, up and down, at her shapely figure and sighed.

“I look forward to it.”

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