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42nd Avenue: A Quickie inside Bentley

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42nd Avenue – Pamela

Couple of days after my encounter with that selfish nigga called Don Jazzy, I return to my base and I decided to go solo and operate around Victoria Island. I took a bus to C.M.S. Bus stop and from there rode on another to Adeola Odeku. My target was those small-small Yahoo boys who visit Qilux on a Friday night. I was in a particularly buoyant mood that night, wishing to enjoy good sex and make money at the same time.

          Dressed in a brief skirt. Slit high up to my core area and a skimpy silver silk camisole top that left the better part of my boobs provocatively exposed. I walked down Ozumba Nbadiwe with measured steps, hips swinging extravagantly. Several flashy cars were speeding past me. I was sure that their headlamps would easily pick my arse jolting invitingly. Not long after, a sleek black car pulled up just in front of me. The was beautiful and the rear flight showed that it was Bentley. The owner must be a quite rich. I thought. If only he could call me. This must be a big catch.

          “Hi, baby”, he called as I tried to pass by the car.

          “Excuse me. Are you a Olosho?”

          “Olosh… what?” I asked, confused.

          Oh, well, that is the new name for…” But never mind, how far you going?”

          “Home”, I lied.

          As I learnt on the passenger’s window, every inch of my breasts was exposed. They were hanging pendulously. His eyes were no longer looking at my face, they were feasting hungrily on the exposed boobs. My posture told him all he wanted to know; that I was a street walker.

          “Why don’t we look for somewhere I can explore your entire body? How much, is it going to cost me?”

          “Take me to your home,” I said yanking open the door of the mercurial car. Perhaps, I could raid his home after the show.

          “No, I can’t. My wife is at home. We can drive somewhere and have all the fun we need.” He said as he stepped on the pedal and sent the car forward.

          “It’s going to cost you a fortune,” I said flashing him one of the brightest smile.

          “How much?”

          “Twenty thousand”

          “Come on, stop kidding. Let’s settle for ten grand.”

          “No. Fifteen grand is the least I can settle for”

          “Look babe, I’ve got my wife at home. I just want a little bit of outside fun, that’s all!

          “Alright, stop and let me drop. You can go and fuck your wife at home. Let me drop,” I threatened. It was a gamble and it worked. He looked a rich guy and a spoilt one for that matter with no street experience.

          “Alright, you win.”

          “There you are,” I said and went to business straight away.

          I reached for his bulging cock and rubbed it hard with a deft gesture. I freed his cock and began to massage it. On my insistence, he looked for a quiet corner not too far from Quilox and parked. He reclined my chair and then leaped on me sucking and biting my hardened nipples ravenously. I reached for his dick and gave him the biggest blow job of his life. He moaned aloud with ecstasy as I sucked him dry. Then later, he took me hard on the reclined chair. It was a purely physical bash that left both of us physically exhausted at the end of it all. I collected my money and requested that he drop me at Law School bus stop and he obliged.

          Thirty minutes later, I had fully recovered and I was buoyant again still eager for more action. A potbellied man picked me up and took to his home somewhere in Yaba for ten thousand naira. I spent the night with him. He had me only once before he slept off, snoring like Fulani cow. At dawn, I left his apartment and headed home. With twenty five thousand naira in my purse, it was a rewarding night for me.

See you again next week and make sure you invite your friends to come read about me on shybellmedia.com.

Blessed weekend.

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