I lay awake naked on my bed, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. We were going through another blackout, and the air conditioning was dead.
The sweltering Port Harcourt heat was unbearable, even in the middle of the night. I couldn’t sleep anyway; I was a few months over 19, and my near-uncontrollable sex drive had no outlet. My big cock was a steel pipe that I gripped and pumped in my hand, lubed up with a palm of spit.
I was frustrated; I was a good-looking child from a well-off upper-class family. I went to a private international high school with the sons and daughters of diplomats and wealthy businessmen. I had a group of friends, the same as everyone else, but when it came to girls, I was shy, nervous, and inexperienced.
Plenty of guys my age had a steady supply of pussy – mostly the chicks we went to class with, but sometimes local women – and loved to brag about their conquests when we hung out around the villas after school. I’d smile and try to act cool and lie, all the while trying to figure out how the hell they did it. I wasn’t a virgin anymore, but I was shit when it came to the opposite sex.
I jacked off angrily, thinking about a busty girl in my Maths class that I wanted to fuck. Funmi Akinlade. A beautiful chick with nice-sized perky breasts and a cute feminine face. Same age as me. Long hair, big eyes.
Petite and slender, real sexy. I thought about taking her against her desk at school and fucking her with her legs wrapped around me while she wore her school uniform with the pleated skirt hiked up over her hips. Yeah, biting her bottom lip, eyeliner-painted eyes closed in pleasure, naughty fucking bitch…
I tried not to make too much sound as I pounded my cock in my hand. My snobby parents were sleeping a couple of rooms down, and I didn’t want them to know what I was doing. It’d be a lot better if I were sitting in front of the family computer watching porn, but the fucking thing was in their bedroom. So it was just me, my hand, and my imagination.
I closed my eyes and fantasized. My mood wasn’t helping, so I went harder, going from fantasy to fantasy. Omotola Jalade, Ayra Starr. I started to sweat as my brain became saturated with lust. I lay my head back on my pillow and gritted my teeth as I stroked harder.
Fucking, fucking, fucking. Beautiful female singers, Tems, DJ Cuppy, all flesh and sex in my head as I pleasured myself and got closer in my brain. Getting sucked off by sexy sluts. Pounding their cock-hungry pussies.
Crying for my seed and my big fucking naked dick that was stretching their cunts out so much they would never get satisfaction from anything smaller again. Filling their wombs with my spunk so the next time I passed Lekki, I’d see them leering with rounded stomachs.
Mm…yeah.
I finally went back to nubile little Funmi Akinlade, only this time she was naked and on all fours on my parent’s bed before me, wagging her cute round ass at me, puffy pussy wet and ready. I grabbed one shapely ass cheek, and she spread her legs, revealing the little round globe of her 6-month swollen belly hanging down along with her milk-filled breasts.
She arched her back and cried out as I pushed in her steaming wet gash and started to saw in and out, rutting her pregnant pussy while she mewled and moaned like a true breeding whore, cradling and caressing her growing belly as it swung beneath her, breasts mashed into the bed.
The thought of knocking young Funmi up and fucking her mother-to-be’s brains out sent me over the edge. I grunted and stifled a cry as my cock bloated and bucked, shooting long ropes of sticky cum into the dark over my bed.
“F-fuck!”
I lay there panting and covered in sweat, my spent cock still semi-hard and oozing cum onto my thigh. I never came that much before – the idea of making a girl pregnant, of claiming her, of forcing their body to change to bear your child while the whole world could see the product of your potency – shit, the big breasts and belly on a slender frame were hot as hell to me.
It hadn’t been much of a fantasy up until now, but with my libido and size, the urge to breed was a curse that was bound to come along sooner or later.
It was a depraved epiphany that I couldn’t get out of my head after that.
Like it or not, I was a lonely stud come of age without a proper mare.
I groaned as I grabbed the hand towel I had ready and wiped off the cum from my leg and dick. The goddamn thing was about eight and a half inches long and felt like it was the thickness of a wrist when it was hard, as much good as it did me.
My balls were normal-sized, and despite the sheer volume of the load I’d just blown, I definitely had plenty more left in them. I would be able to go again soon if I didn’t try to get some sleep, but I needed to clean up and get a glass of water.
I swore in the dark as I realized I came all over my bed. I tried to wipe it all down and at least make the evidence less obvious. We had a live-in maid named Jumoke who took care of the house. Would she know what cum-stains looked like? It would be embarrassing if she did. It would be worse if she told my parents.
I didn’t know much about Jumoke other than she was like 25 and cooked okay. I guess she was all alone in this Port Harcourt, trying to make money to send back to her village, but I never really gave it a lot of thought.
Jumoke, though, probably barely graduated high school, so I doubted she got much more of a salary than our last maid, who was a graduate. I don’t know if Jumoke grew up in a village, but she didn’t speak good English – she had a thick accent. She didn’t seem all that smart either, but what could you expect from a housekeeper?
Jumoke wasn’t a supermodel by any stretch of the imagination, but she was a good-looking chick, definitely better than any bar girl I had seen around. I don’t know if my dad wanted a nice young local thing around the house or what, but I had never seen her flaunt it or flirt with him, she just did her work and kept to herself.
Jumoke was really just a fixture of the house. She had been with us for about a year on the recommendation of another wealthy family after we replaced our shitty sophisticated maid Alice, who my mom accused of stealing from us.
I had never paid much attention to Jumoke other than her body, which was lithe, almost to the point of being skinny. The woman had nice skin, a toned stomach, big breasts for her slender frame – probably at least a D cup – and a nice ass that I stole a couple of looks at now and then, especially when she wore a tank and work jeans around the house. Jumoke had long hair that went past her shoulders; she wore it in a ponytail when she worked.
Our maid was a recognizably pretty woman. She had a pouting mouth with dark pillowy lips, almond eyes, a pert nose and angular cheekbones, good white teeth and a cute smile. Definitely fuckable.
Thinking about Jumoke like that made my cock start to stiffen. I was a little ashamed at how depraved I was, even considering fucking the house help.
I chucked the hand towel into the laundry basket and peered around the dim confines of my room, past the disused desk and my rumpled, sweaty bed. The digital clock read 2:44 AM. I had school in a few hours. I cracked a window to let in the seething sounds of the evening – we lived in a gated estate that had a big yard with what felt like an encroaching jungle with the city’s buildings beyond. Immediately I could hear the crackling spark of bad wiring on one of the power lines outside, the bark of a stray dog, insects buzzing lazily, and distant cars honking. Port Harcourt was alive beyond, all bustle and sex.
I checked myself out in the gloom of my mirror – good-looking guy, slim, decent muscle tone from my time at the football field. I was covered in sweat, and my big cock looked engorged and obscene as it swung down between my legs. I felt parched as I ran my fingers through my short hair, determined to get a glass of water. I doubted anyone was up and cracked my door to walk out into the hall naked.
The house we lived in was older than many of the others in the area, so that meant creaking wooden floors and more places for roaches, spiders, and other vermin to get in. I knew we had rats in the yard, too, sometimes, but I had lived in port harcourt long enough that it just didn’t bother me much anymore. Out of sight, most of the time, so out of mind, right? I crept down the stairs in the dark, more awake than asleep, but only just. I flicked the light switch at the bottom a couple of times – no light, of course. The path was well-worn and lit enough from the moon outside that I could make my way through the upscale living room and towards the kitchen.
As I got closer to the kitchen, I noticed a light was flickering from somewhere inside. I could hear soft sounds too. The fizzy chatter of TV, mostly. I guessed Jumoke was up, too, watching that battery-powered portable mini television she had in her room.
I peeked in and saw that the door to the maid room was ajar to allow for circulation now that the power was out, light dancing weakly in a fan across the floor, enough to see a couple of cockroaches flee at my arrival. I was about to give up on the drink and go back to my room when I started hearing something else between the sitcoms and commercials.
Soft, feminine moaning. Gentle, needy grunting.
My jaw dropped in disbelief, a grin forming as I put a hand to my forehead.
Was Jumoke fucking someone? Had she snuck a boyfriend in somehow? No way…
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