WHO'S THE GIRL 👩🏽🦰 IN MY BATHROOM?
I bought a packet of cond*ms from the pharmacy across the street.
My girlfriend, Chiamaka , would be visiting in an hour. We haven't seen each other for a while – in over three months.
This was because I had traveled to the city for a business, and she had resumed school, too. I informed her of my return to my town, and she promised to visit me day.
Knowing that we had missed and craved each other for a long period, I bought many cond*ms because I know we would need them.
I had already finished making the pot of chicken stew which we would enjoy when my phone suddenly dinged, signaling a new message on WhatsApp.
I tapped my phone open and viewed the message. My face cracked into a big smile as I read the text from Chiamaka ; "I'm at your door. Please, open it." I washed my hands, grabbed my perfume, and quickly sprayed it on me and around the room.
Then I rushed to unlock the door for her. Chiamaka looked as pretty as ever when I swung my door open.
If anything, she looked more beautiful than the last time I saw her.
👨🏾: "You're here, babe," I said, smiling.
No sooner had I said that than she rushed into my arms, embracing me tightly.
👩🏽🦰: "Brian..I've missed you so much," she said as her hands wrapped around my neck.
👨🏾: "I've missed you, too, baby," I admitted as I rubbed my hand on her back, and at the same, my face leaned forward to kiss her. Her puckered lips met mine halfway. Her soft, wet lips bit mine mildly as we engaged in a hot salivary fumbling.
I drew us inside and shut the door close without breaking the kiss.
My rough hands reached up to cup her massive brēasts, weighing them with my palms. I fondled and squeezed her soft breāsts.
👩🏽🦰: "Brian..."
Chiamaka moaned as I tweaked her hard nipplēs between my finger just the way she liked it. My hands sneaked behind her, cupping the soft mounds of her Nyash.
Very slowly, I kissed her neck, using my hand to draw up her skirt, softly caressing her dripping .
👩🏽🦰: "Wait!" Chiamaka whispered, breaking free from my hold.
👨🏾: "What?" I asked with deep lust in my eyes.
👩🏽🦰: "Let me fix myself up in the bathroom,"
Chiamaka explained as she dropped her bag, heading in the direction of my bathroom. "We'll continue after I'm done."
👨🏾: "Okay," I said as I flopped onto my bed, resting my head on the pillow as I waited for her to finish.
I knew that she would take time because she always does whenever she left to 'fix' herself, so I busied myself with my phone. I opened Facebook, scrolling through posts absentmindedly. Less than a minute later, an incoming text message displayed across my screen.
It was from my best friend, Lugeon Reborn
👨🏾: "Check this guy. Sorry!" Lugeon message read.
Another message quickly followed, but it was a link this time.
I followed the link to a post made by one of the most popular group on Facebook
The post was about a tragic dēath of a female student in Uyo. The headline read "Female Student Knocked To Deāth By Drunk Driver."
The news was shocking, but what was more shocking was the picture attached to it.
It was a picture of Chiamaka!
Her head was smashed, her hands and legs mangled and blōod soaking up her dress as she lay rigid on the road.
Even though most of her features had been disfigured by the accidēnt, I could still recognize her very well.
My heart pounded as I took all of this in; as I took in the day that the post was made – two days ago.
If Chiamaka had diēd some days ago in an accident as the blog had shown, then who have I been chatting with since then?
If Chiamaka, my girlfriend, was dēad as I clearly saw on the post, then who is the girl in my bathroom!
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WHO'S THE GIRL 👩🏽🦰 IN MY BATHROOM?
I bought a packet of cond*ms from the pharmacy across the street.
My girlfriend, Chiamaka , would be visiting in an hour. We haven't seen each other for a while – in over three months.
This was because I had traveled to the city for a business, and she had resumed school, too. I informed her of my return to my town, and she promised to visit me day.
Knowing that we had missed and craved each other for a long period, I bought many cond*ms because I know we would need them.
I had already finished making the pot of chicken🍗 stew🍲 which we would enjoy when my phone suddenly dinged, signaling a new message on WhatsApp.
I tapped my phone open and viewed the message. My face cracked into a big smile as I read the text from Chiamaka ; "I'm at your door. Please, open it." I washed my hands, grabbed my perfume, and quickly sprayed it on me and around the room.
Then I rushed to unlock the door for her. Chiamaka looked as pretty as ever when I swung my door open.
If anything, she looked more beautiful than the last time I saw her.
👨🏾: "You're here, babe," I said, smiling.
No sooner had I said that than she rushed into my arms, embracing me tightly.
👩🏽🦰: "Brian..I've missed you so much," she said as her hands wrapped around my neck.
👨🏾: "I've missed you, too, baby," I admitted as I rubbed my hand on her back, and at the same, my face leaned forward to kiss her. Her puckered lips met mine halfway. Her soft, wet lips bit mine mildly as we engaged in a hot salivary fumbling.
I drew us inside and shut the door close without breaking the kiss.
My rough hands reached up to cup her massive brēasts, weighing them with my palms. I fondled and squeezed her soft breāsts.
👩🏽🦰: "Brian..."
Chiamaka moaned as I tweaked her hard nipplēs between my finger just the way she liked it. My hands sneaked behind her, cupping the soft mounds of her Nyash.
Very slowly, I kissed her neck, using my hand to draw up her skirt, softly caressing her dripping 🍑.
👩🏽🦰: "Wait!" Chiamaka whispered, breaking free from my hold.
👨🏾: "What?" I asked with deep lust in my eyes.
👩🏽🦰: "Let me fix myself up in the bathroom,"
Chiamaka explained as she dropped her bag, heading in the direction of my bathroom. "We'll continue after I'm done."
👨🏾: "Okay," I said as I flopped onto my bed, resting my head on the pillow as I waited for her to finish.
I knew that she would take time because she always does whenever she left to 'fix' herself, so I busied myself with my phone. I opened Facebook, scrolling through posts absentmindedly. Less than a minute later, an incoming text message displayed across my screen.
It was from my best friend, Lugeon Reborn
👨🏾: "Check this guy. Sorry!" Lugeon message read.
Another message quickly followed, but it was a link this time.
I followed the link to a post made by one of the most popular group on Facebook
The post was about a tragic dēath of a female student in Uyo. The headline read "Female Student Knocked To Deāth By Drunk Driver."
The news was shocking, but what was more shocking was the picture attached to it.
It was a picture of Chiamaka!
Her head was smashed, her hands and legs mangled and blōod soaking up her dress as she lay rigid on the road.
Even though most of her features had been disfigured by the accidēnt, I could still recognize her very well.
My heart pounded as I took all of this in; as I took in the day that the post was made – two days ago.
If Chiamaka had diēd some days ago in an accident as the blog had shown, then who have I been chatting with since then?
If Chiamaka, my girlfriend, was dēad as I clearly saw on the post, then who is the girl in my bathroom!
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