(18+ STORY ) My Horny Secretary — PART 1

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(18+ STORY ) My Horny Secretary — PART 3

(18+ STORY ) My Horny Secretary — PART 1

five us sat in a small semi-circle facing the television in the moderately spacious, and neatly furnished sitting room. The estate’s Executive Committee had seven members, but the Financial Chief Udeh and the Welfare Officer Mrs Ayiri were not in attendance.

“Lead us in prayer Mr Cornelius”, said the Chairman. The Vice chairman stood up and said a short opening prayer to which we all jointly chorused “amen.”

A bit tired from Church activities earlier in the day, I had planned to keep my involvement to a minimum – at least until refreshment time – so I was quiet almost throughout. The Public Relations Officer was his report when a series of knocks on the metal burglar proof door interrupted.

’Kpom! kpom !! kpom!!!
Without waiting for any answer, the door pushed open and Mrs Ayiri walked in, wearing a wide smile, a bright yellow blouse and a lovely – if slightly short, red skirt. Her apologies started from the door.

“You people should not be angry with me o. You know my case is special ba? Biko, make una pardon my atrocities. I know I am guilty before you start accusing me of late coming. temper mercy with justice.”

We all laughed at her last statement as she took her seat.

“Welcome madam, happy new year sef.”

That was the Security Superintendent stylishly dissing her truancy, causing another round of laughter.

“One house please, one house.”

The chairman gently restored order and we resumed the meeting.

Suddenly almighty PHCN struck, throwing us into darkness. The Chairman in whose the meeting was being held excused himself to go and put on the generator while the rest of us made small talk to fill the interlude. I had a torchlight application on my phone which I activated to provide temporary illumination.

Big mistake!

The narrow shaft of light emanating from my phone pierced the darkness and went straight between Mrs Ayiri’s smooth fair thighs. In that brief flash, I noticed there was no fabric guarding her ‘beautiful gate’ before I hurriedly snapped off the intrusive shaft. I also quickly glanced at her face to check if she was looking my way.

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She was.

In as much as I wanted to apologize for the unintentional ‘lookery’, I couldn’t. I also wanted to behave as if nothing happened, yet our ours eyes had met and I knew she’d seen me looking at her ‘garden’ …which kain wahala be this?

The generator soon roared into life.

I continued to act normal on the outside but I could see a small sly smile playing on Mrs Ayiri’s lips each time I spied her face during the meeting, and she always seemed to be looking my way. Each time our eyes met, my heart would skip a beat.

The rest of the meeting went by in a rush and when the Chairman finally called for closing prayers, I couldn’t have been happier.

Outside, as I made to depart from the venue after wishing the others a good night, I heard Mrs Ayiri’s voice call out.

“Seke ,wait make I follow you. You know say light no dey.”

My heart sank.

“Ok ma”, I replied meekly.

But my thoughts were running riot, Why me? Was she angry? How was I going to explain that I had gazed at a married woman’s inner chambers by mistake?

“Eku meeting eni o.”

Her voice brought me out of my reverie and she continued.

“Abeg, you’ll follow me pass my place o, my front door is bad and usually requires some extra force to open from outside. You know Daddy is not around, next time he comes to Lagos I’ll definitely makes sure he invites his carpenter to fix it properly.”

Daddy was a reference to her businessman husband was in Abuja most of the time.

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“No problems ma, I replied. I’m sure it probably needs just a small drop of oil in the right place.”

She smiled that mysterious smile again and nodded as we started walking.

We got to her place a couple of minutes later and just like she’d said, the door proved a bit difficult to open, although I managed it after a few strong shoves whilst sustaining a small cut on my right thumb in the process.

“Sorry o Seke.”

Mrs Ayiri sympathized as I put the affected finger in my mouth to stem the bleeding.

“Come inside let me put small iodine for you.”

And so I entered, another big mistake!

She offered me a seat which I gladly took while she went inside to get her medicine box and returned within a minute clutching a cold bottle of malt and a plate of homemade cookies.

“Just play with this one while I look for the iodine, I’ll be back in a bit.”

She picked up the remote from the center table and put on the big Sony television mounted on the wall which came on instantly but the Dstv decoder required a few moments to boot before the signals came up.

You can flip the channel when it’s up jare, let me quickly bring the iodine.”

By this time I’d totally even forgotten what brought me inside in the first place. I checked my hand and the little cut had stopped seeping blood. It wasn’t even that painful and as I was telling her not to worry, the TV suddenly burst into life interrupting our conversation. It was on SoundCity and the video of ‘Sista Caro’ by K-Switch was showing. I automatically reduced the volume and wanted to change the channel due to the raunchy nature of the video but she indicated that I shouldn’t.

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“Awon eleyi o ti e mo ju kan maa ju di anyhow lo (these ones don’t even know any other thing except shaking their bums). As if na only them get yansh. And no be say the yansh sef even big o.”

I immediately disagreed.

“These one no big ….”, then my voice trailed off when I realized who I was talking with. She however did not seem to mind.

“Ehen now, e no big. E reach this one?”

Next thing I knew she was turning round showing me her booty.

“Seke talk true e reach am?”

I mumbled something inaudible back in reply.

“Not really, yours is ermm bigger….I mean ….”

Before I could even fully complete the statement she just grabbed my right hand and pressed it to her butt.

“Feel am sef, this one na 100% confirmed mukeke. Not all those fake yansh wey dem dey shake for television”.

Her grip was strong, just like her booty was firm and soft. Underneath the cotton material of her skirt, it felt alive, seemingly pulsating with a life of its own.

She held my hand in place so I just kept feeling, kneading her bum as if it was dough and I was a professional baker. In fact, my left hand unconsciously joined my right in the delightful task, catching her in a pseudo embrace. It was as if I was in a trance until like a bolt of lightning, my senses returned to me. Another man’s wifeTufia!!!

My hands sharply lost their wanderlust.
She noticed the change in my mood and moved closer.

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