Abike took a deep breath, reminding herself of Fayemi’s beautiful letters. Love is blind, and his heart was beautiful. He was her one true love.
She tentatively approached his table and started to sit down opposite him, her eyes wide as she couldn’t help but stare at the angry birthmark on his forehead.
“No, Abike,” he said, patting the bench beside him. “Please come and sit beside me, my love.”
Princess Abike bit her lip in apprehension and nodded, moving around to the table and shuffling down the short bench to sit close to her dreamy peasant. She wrinkled her nose a little as she smelt a mixture of odours coming from the old man, mostly sweat and stale palm wine, but she had to remind herself that the peasant did not bathe daily like the nobility. Those were good, honest and hardworking aromas.
“Y-you’re Fayemi?” she stammered uncertainly.
“I am,” he replied with a wide smile. Abike couldn’t help but stare at his yellow teeth, several of them chipped or missing. Fayemi scooped up the blue rose and handed it to her.
Abike smiled politely as she accepted the rose. This was the moment she had been dreaming of…wasn’t it?
“You look even more beautiful than I imagined,” breathed Fayemi, looking her up and down in open admiration, his gaze lingering briefly on her arge breasts. “You are the brightest star in the skies,” he added poetically.
Abike swallowed and nodded at his complement. Normally, if she had read those words in one of his love letters, her heart would have fluttered in excitement, but for some reason, they didn’t quite seem to have the same effect on her coming from the lips of this smelly, old beggar. Was that onion on his breath or something worse?
But Fayemi was her true love, her heart’s desire. She gave a determined sigh and sat up straighter in her seat, pushing her magnificent breasts out even further. This was her moment… their moment.
“I’ve dreamt about this moment every night,” Fayemi told her, almost as if reading her thoughts. “I’m so happy that we can finally be together.”
Abike couldn’t help but tense a little as he put an arm around her and pulled her closer. She had to remind herself that she was not shallow like Lolade; her love with Fayemi was pure and perfect. They were soul-mates.
Suddenly, Fayemi reached up, turning her head towards him and pulling her mouth in towards his for a kiss. Abike was startled at first and had to resist her initial instinct to shove him away. Instead, she closed her eyes and did her best to kiss the old pauper back, ignoring his rather foul, palm wine-smelling breath.
Fayemi moaned as he kissed the beautiful twenty-one-year-old princess.
By the time they broke off their kiss, Abike was breathless, and her heart was really racing this time. She wasn’t sure if that was from love and excitement or from the effort of kissing the old man’s horrible-smelling mouth back.
“I’m sorry to be so forward, Abike,” apologised Fayemi. “Your beauty made me lose control.”
Before Abike could forgive him, he once again pulled her mouth back to his for a kiss. This time, Abike’s eyes went wide as she felt Fayemi slide his hoary old tongue into her mouth as they passionately snogged.
Abike moaned slightly as the old beggar reached up and squeezed her right breast through her dress. She almost shoved him away at his crude touch, but then relaxed and reminded herself that he was her true love and this was what people in love did.
Fayemi’s tongue eagerly probed inside the beautiful princess’s mouth as he groped her enormous royal boobs and even pinched her nipples through her maid’s dress. They kissed for several minutes as the beggar’s hands wandered freely all over Princess Abike’s curvaceous body, even sliding down to roughly squeeze her ass.
When he finally came up for air, Abike was feeling quite surprised. She hadn’t expected Fayemi to be quite so…passionate. This was all happening so fast.
The old beggar thrust his empty cup into her hands. “Get me another palm wine will you love? I’m thirsty.”
Princess Abike nodded wordlessly and stood up, heading for the bar, grateful for a moment to gather her thoughts. As she left Fayemi’s table he reached out and slapped her on her shapely, royal ass. “Get one for yourself too love.”
At the bar she ordered two cups of palm wine, figuring that she had to remain in character as a peasant so she should drink the palm wine as well. She paid the barman with a couple of cowries, and he passed her two rather large calabash of foaming palmwine.
Suddenly Abike felt a hand sliding across her ass, squeezing her bouncy butt. She yelped and turned around. It was the same middle-aged trader who had groped her earlier. She gave an irritated sigh.
“Changed your mind beautiful?” he asked hopefully, patting his purse again as he leered eagerly at her expansive bosom.
Abike frowned angrily and gave a curt shake of her head. She pushed past the lecherous trader and made her way quickly back to the table where her true love was waiting for her.
She passed Fayemi one of the calabash as she sat back down and he took a long swallow, gulping down almost three-quarters of the palm wine all at once. He gave a satisfied belch, his chin glistening with the drink that had dribbled from his mouth.
“I missed you,” he murmured, pulling her in for another kiss.
Abike grimaced as the old beggar’s tongue crudely slid into her mouth again. His breath tasted even more of the foul palm wine than it had earlier.
“You are absolutely beautiful my love,” he told her. “You drive me crazy.”
To Abike’s astonishment, he took hold of her hand and placed it on his bulging crotch. She clearly felt his hard erection through his trousers and gave a shocked gasp.
“You’re hard!” she whispered, it almost felt like his old peasant cock was throbbing beneath her fingers.
“Of course I am,” replied Fayemi. “Like I said, you’re so beautiful.”
Abike desperately wanted to pull her hand away, but she realised that wasn’t what Fayemi’s true love would do. They were in love so it was perfectly natural for her to want to touch him, and for him to touch her. Right?
She decided that the best thing to do to cover her initial revulsion was to put in an even bigger effort. Abike reached down with her other hand, stroking his bulging crotch with both hands. He really did feel huge inside those trousers, not that the beautiful princess had a lot of experience with erections.
Fayemi moaned as she rubbed his cock with her soft hands and he leant forward and started kissing her again, his hands reaching up to squeeze her big breasts through the bodice of her dress.
Abike winced as the old beggar roughly pinched her nipples through the rough-spun wool of her dress, and at the same time he moved his mouth, kissing his way down her smooth neck and nuzzling his bristly chin against her throat.
“Oh Fayemi, it’s so good to be with you,” she murmured as her fingers traced the hard pole of his cock through his trousers.
Fayemi moaned, his tongue sliding across her throat. Somehow, he got one of his hands down into the impossibly tight front of Abike’s bodice and he was groping and squeezing one of her massive bare breasts, her nipple hard against his palm.
They continued like that for several minutes, Abike rubbing somewhat reluctantly at his erection and his hand stuffed down into her cleavage, fondling her.
When they finally broke apart Abike couldn’t help but give a relieved sigh. This wasn’t exactly the way she envisioned her evening with her perfect peasant turning out.
Fayemi finished his palm wine in a quick gulp and looked down at her untouched beverage. “You going to finish that love?”
Abike shook her head and he grinned and grabbed it for himself, quickly downing the entire calabash in several quick swallows.
“Let’s go out into the bush out back,” suggested Fayemi once he was done, staring at Abike with undisguised lust.
Princess Abike’s eyes went wide in alarm. “What? Why?”
Fayemi suddenly frowned at her reluctance. “Hang on, what’s going on here?” he demanded. He actually looked a little angry. “Do you love me or not?”
Abike frowned, realising he had sensed her uncertainty. “I… of course I do!” she insisted, trying to convince herself as much as her true love.
Fayemi’s eyes narrowed. “It’s because I’m poor, ain’t it?”
“No!” she protested. She didn’t care if her dreamy peasant wasn’t rich like Prince Jibowu; she didn’t care about money at all. Her love for Fayemi was true love. Status and material possessions didn’t matter.
Fayemi continued to look suspiciously at her. Clearly not believing her.
“Let’s go outside,” suggested Princess Abike, she couldn’t stand the thought that Fayemi believed she was shallow and cared about his lack of wealth.
If you’re interested in the Oniranu Weekend Brunch, please fill in your location below
Norway/Netherland – Fill Norway/Netherland Form
Canada – Fill Canadian Form
United Kingdom – Fill UK Form
United States – Fill U.S Form
Buy Oniranu Books on Selar.co from anywhere in the world
This post has already been read 1076 times!
