A husband 'hired out’ his wife for sex with 2,742 different clients in just four years, a court heard today.
The 54-year-old man, who cannot be named for legal reasons, made the equivalent of more than £5000 a month through the suburban prostitution business.
As his wife, who is 46, welcomed clients, he would sit outside their home in Meaux, north of Paris, in the family car, along with their five-year-old child.
Emmanuel Dupic, prosecutor at the town’s criminal court, said: ‘The husband exercised a psychological power over his wife, preventing her from stopping submitting herself to the sexual needs of customers who were sometimes very tough.’
The couple, who have been married for 10 years, were arrested last Tuesday, but only the man was charged with pimping, and faces a decade in prison.
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3285500/Wife-forced-sex-2-700-men.html#ixzz3pO88HmKa
Man hospitalised after sex with friend’s wife
A 21-year-old man, in Ugbona Village, Ishieke Community, Ebonyi State, is now battling to stay alive after engaging in bout of sex with his friend’s wife.
The man, Orima Onyebuchi, was allegedly having affair with the woman until the last bout of sex, which landed him in hospital. Onyebuchi, a day after the last lovemaking session with the lady, started complaining of serious pain in his private part.
The pains became very serious, leading to his being rushed to hospitals in the area for treatment, including prayer houses.
But the sickness and pains persisted. In one of the prayer houses he was rushed to, Onyebuchi confessed that he had been having affair with his friend’s wife. The pastor advised him to confess the act to his friend, Friday Nwankwo.
Onyebuchi promptly confessed. After his confession, Onyebuchi was asked to provide N250, 000 to enable Nwankwo destroy the charm he planted on his wife’s body.
Nwankwo said: “I have been suspecting Onyebuchi and my wife for long. I got the charm from an herbalist to stop the relationship. Onyebuchi must give me N250, 000 if he wants to live!”
Sensing that Nwankwo was determined to allow their son to die, Onyebuchi’s parents offered N50, 000, which Nwankwo rejected. The parents have since frantically selling their household items to raise the money.
And he dies over a forbidden ‘honey well’
Looking at it from a neural point, I guess I can understand how some women, married or otherwise, would find him attractive.
Forget the fact that he was my friend. I’m not one of those prejudiced women. I didn’t need a soothsayer to tell me that Manny was a magnificent hunk of a guy. He was tall, dark complexioned and with muscles in all the right places. His tummy was so flat that you could see all the flat planes and probably be able to write a love poem on it.
He had a special way of barbing his hair and trimming his facial beard, which makes a girl want to tweak his cheeks. I’m not particularly one of those babes that like guys with beards, but I like guys who usually clean shave. I love the abrasiveness of the cheeks and chin as I caress.
Oh gosh, please don’t get me started on what it does to my….hummm…let’s not get carried away here, okay?
Some people claimed he died an ignoble death. But hey, what is that…death na death…there’s no good or bad death. The point is that you’re gone…yamutu…
I heard that Manny staggered home that fateful day, raving and ranting like a drunken idiot. He was full of noise and fury, but all signified nothing to his siblings. Before they knew it, he was burning up. They called a nurse, who quickly fixed him a drip. Manny had always been a strong guy. In fact, he was as strong as a horse. I bet that was why nobody suspected or believed that the strange sickness would defeat him.
He was in a fitful sleep, tossing and turning, muttering to himself, when his siblings quietly walked out of the room. Their mistake! Someone ought to have stayed and watched him. But they didn’t.
We later heard that neighbours were attracted and rushed out of their homes, when they heard a commotion. They saw Manny, barely in his boxers, rolling and jerking on the hard, dusty ground.
Right in front of their building. He was clutching his drip and muttering the name of a woman.
He was rushed to a nearby hospital. When his siblings came to pay him a visit, he told them to tell his mother that a woman killed him. He died after uttering such strange words.
Investigations by his family members revealed that the name of the woman he was muttering was a woman selling paraga (alcohol, mixed with roots) on their street. Though Manny was in his early thirties, the woman was quite older than him.
Everyone insisted that Manny’s death was a strange one. His family members were the zealots in this belief. They went in search of what killed Manny in his prime. They came back, but wouldn’t say or tell anyone their discovery. Everything was shrouded in secrecy.
It was however only a matter of time before we heard. Yes O! Magun! Of all things, who would ever had thought of Magun?
Further stories began to filter in. We heard that he and this paraga woman had been banging each other like dogs in heat for months abi na years?
Incidentally, the woman was supposed to be a happily married person. But she apparently didn’t see anything wrong in taking Manny every time to her matrimonial home and bed, to grease her honey well.
Manny was just like any other guy. They hardly shy or run away from free food, abi na awuf I go call such feminine delicacies? The bad thing about awuf be say e dey run or tear belle!
People gossiped and whispered that Manny had even chopped the woman more than the man that paid her bride price. How? Good question my dear friends. I also asked how? Abi the woman just wed her husband?
Nay! The truth was that anytime the man leaves home for office, Manny, jobless, would resume work. Jumping like antelope on every corner of the huge bed. He knew all the G spots on the woman’s body. Some bad belle people even claimed that they used to hear the woman, crying: “Give it to me hard! Give it to me Hard! No stop! Don’t stop! Bah Stop!”
Manny would throw her legs to angle 90 and start swimming…he would even go down on her. He would enter her dog style, taking all the time in the world. He liked the way she used to scream whenever she was coming…he liked the way she used to clutch his head, dragging it further into her honey well as she rotated her hips and thrashed around in bed, on the rug….Those her uncontrollable displays made him to feel macho, virile.
We no longer knew which of the story was true or fabricated. The fact however remained that they were banging each other blind. It seemed everybody knew of the affair except Manny’s family members and the woman’s mugu of a husband.
Once it was getting towards evening, the woman would take her paraga wares to the junction where she displays it. It was there that her husband will meet her after office hours, before heading home. Most times, he would wait for her, so that they could go home together.
Ironically, Manny most times used to be at this junction, sitting on the bench placed close to the wares, pretending to be one of the customers.
Perhaps the main attraction for Manny was the money the woman used to dole out to him. Just like she couldn’t resist the weapon of mass destruction between Manny‘s thighs, so also she couldn’t refuse him anything he asked or wanted from her. Na wa O!
I’ve tried to look at things from the angle of the woman and Manny…and the only thing that came to my mind was that Manny sabi hammer. Period!
True, I have never taken a peep into his trousers, but I can bet my best G-string pant that he would be largely endowed below there, if you know what I mean…apparently not just endowed, but also knew how to use his natural endowment…a guy after my heart…hummmm.
Some men are just too busy working round the clock, making money, to realise that their wives are endangered species where young, good looking studs are concerned.
Why, even if the young wife tried to be holy, holy, you’ll find these young, husky guys prowling round her like she was the best thing since sliced bread.
I wish all babes are like me…once a guy tells me he loves me, I always look for the catch. I mean, there has to be a catch somewhere if a guy tells an old, married, aging lady like me that he likes, loves me…I have to double check if he is unemployed.
Anyway, no fear of that…any guy that is stupid enough to come after me, believing I have money, will probably die of hunger. Don’t judge me by my cover, everything you see na cosmetics, shakara. I broke pass church cockroaches sef!
Hey, chill down…I know I’m digressing, but I’ll get to the story soon…there’s no need to bite my head off…ha! God, people are so impatient these days, why?
Anyway, as I was saying…we heard that the woman’s husband actually had a good job, yet the woman refused to stop selling paraga. What could be the reason for this? Your guess is as good as mine!
It was only a matter of time before busybody people told the husband that Manny was banging his wife. What could the man do? Confront and fight Manny? Beat his wife to pulp? Or break all her wares and force her to stay at home? He didn’t do any of this.
Rather he placed Magun on his wife and it killed Manny!
End of a scintillating love affair!
They said that Manny’s family members went to different places to verify what killed him and all came back with the same result: Magun.
They took time to check out the woman…shhhhhhhhhhhh (Yes, I hissed), I heard she was not even pretty. At least she was not worth dying for. She was even bleaching her skin!
You won’t believe this…the woman and her husband are still married! Did I remember to tell you guys that Manny was the only male child in a family of five children? Yeah, I know bro…saddening…I can feel you….
There are many who do not believe in the power and existence of Magun, their mistake. It exists and its efficacy rate is very high. Husbands are using it every day on the wives they suspect to be unfaithful.
So when next you start panting after and salivating over that married woman, remember there might be Magun on her.
No! No! It’s not only wives it works on. I have heard stories where ordinary boyfriends, who were just dating a babe, had placed Magun on her. Most times the wife or girlfriend, might be innocent. When it comes to jealousy, no man or woman is reasonable.
Jealousy is a dangerous emotion. Don’t be caught in its web. It can rule and compel you to kill!
Forget the fact that he was my friend. I’m not one of those prejudiced women. I didn’t need a soothsayer to tell me that Manny was a magnificent hunk of a guy. He was tall, dark complexioned and with muscles in all the right places. His tummy was so flat that you could see all the flat planes and probably be able to write a love poem on it.
He had a special way of barbing his hair and trimming his facial beard, which makes a girl want to tweak his cheeks. I’m not particularly one of those babes that like guys with beards, but I like guys who usually clean shave. I love the abrasiveness of the cheeks and chin as I caress.
Oh gosh, please don’t get me started on what it does to my….hummm…let’s not get carried away here, okay?
Some people claimed he died an ignoble death. But hey, what is that…death na death…there’s no good or bad death. The point is that you’re gone…yamutu…
I heard that Manny staggered home that fateful day, raving and ranting like a drunken idiot. He was full of noise and fury, but all signified nothing to his siblings. Before they knew it, he was burning up. They called a nurse, who quickly fixed him a drip. Manny had always been a strong guy. In fact, he was as strong as a horse. I bet that was why nobody suspected or believed that the strange sickness would defeat him.
He was in a fitful sleep, tossing and turning, muttering to himself, when his siblings quietly walked out of the room. Their mistake! Someone ought to have stayed and watched him. But they didn’t.
We later heard that neighbours were attracted and rushed out of their homes, when they heard a commotion. They saw Manny, barely in his boxers, rolling and jerking on the hard, dusty ground.
Right in front of their building. He was clutching his drip and muttering the name of a woman.
He was rushed to a nearby hospital. When his siblings came to pay him a visit, he told them to tell his mother that a woman killed him. He died after uttering such strange words.
Investigations by his family members revealed that the name of the woman he was muttering was a woman selling paraga (alcohol, mixed with roots) on their street. Though Manny was in his early thirties, the woman was quite older than him.
Everyone insisted that Manny’s death was a strange one. His family members were the zealots in this belief. They went in search of what killed Manny in his prime. They came back, but wouldn’t say or tell anyone their discovery. Everything was shrouded in secrecy.
It was however only a matter of time before we heard. Yes O! Magun! Of all things, who would ever had thought of Magun?
Further stories began to filter in. We heard that he and this paraga woman had been banging each other like dogs in heat for months abi na years?
Incidentally, the woman was supposed to be a happily married person. But she apparently didn’t see anything wrong in taking Manny every time to her matrimonial home and bed, to grease her honey well.
Manny was just like any other guy. They hardly shy or run away from free food, abi na awuf I go call such feminine delicacies? The bad thing about awuf be say e dey run or tear belle!
People gossiped and whispered that Manny had even chopped the woman more than the man that paid her bride price. How? Good question my dear friends. I also asked how? Abi the woman just wed her husband?
Nay! The truth was that anytime the man leaves home for office, Manny, jobless, would resume work. Jumping like antelope on every corner of the huge bed. He knew all the G spots on the woman’s body. Some bad belle people even claimed that they used to hear the woman, crying: “Give it to me hard! Give it to me Hard! No stop! Don’t stop! Bah Stop!”
Manny would throw her legs to angle 90 and start swimming…he would even go down on her. He would enter her dog style, taking all the time in the world. He liked the way she used to scream whenever she was coming…he liked the way she used to clutch his head, dragging it further into her honey well as she rotated her hips and thrashed around in bed, on the rug….Those her uncontrollable displays made him to feel macho, virile.
We no longer knew which of the story was true or fabricated. The fact however remained that they were banging each other blind. It seemed everybody knew of the affair except Manny’s family members and the woman’s mugu of a husband.
Once it was getting towards evening, the woman would take her paraga wares to the junction where she displays it. It was there that her husband will meet her after office hours, before heading home. Most times, he would wait for her, so that they could go home together.
Ironically, Manny most times used to be at this junction, sitting on the bench placed close to the wares, pretending to be one of the customers.
Perhaps the main attraction for Manny was the money the woman used to dole out to him. Just like she couldn’t resist the weapon of mass destruction between Manny‘s thighs, so also she couldn’t refuse him anything he asked or wanted from her. Na wa O!
I’ve tried to look at things from the angle of the woman and Manny…and the only thing that came to my mind was that Manny sabi hammer. Period!
True, I have never taken a peep into his trousers, but I can bet my best G-string pant that he would be largely endowed below there, if you know what I mean…apparently not just endowed, but also knew how to use his natural endowment…a guy after my heart…hummmm.
Some men are just too busy working round the clock, making money, to realise that their wives are endangered species where young, good looking studs are concerned.
Why, even if the young wife tried to be holy, holy, you’ll find these young, husky guys prowling round her like she was the best thing since sliced bread.
I wish all babes are like me…once a guy tells me he loves me, I always look for the catch. I mean, there has to be a catch somewhere if a guy tells an old, married, aging lady like me that he likes, loves me…I have to double check if he is unemployed.
Anyway, no fear of that…any guy that is stupid enough to come after me, believing I have money, will probably die of hunger. Don’t judge me by my cover, everything you see na cosmetics, shakara. I broke pass church cockroaches sef!
Hey, chill down…I know I’m digressing, but I’ll get to the story soon…there’s no need to bite my head off…ha! God, people are so impatient these days, why?
Anyway, as I was saying…we heard that the woman’s husband actually had a good job, yet the woman refused to stop selling paraga. What could be the reason for this? Your guess is as good as mine!
It was only a matter of time before busybody people told the husband that Manny was banging his wife. What could the man do? Confront and fight Manny? Beat his wife to pulp? Or break all her wares and force her to stay at home? He didn’t do any of this.
Rather he placed Magun on his wife and it killed Manny!
End of a scintillating love affair!
They said that Manny’s family members went to different places to verify what killed him and all came back with the same result: Magun.
They took time to check out the woman…shhhhhhhhhhhh (Yes, I hissed), I heard she was not even pretty. At least she was not worth dying for. She was even bleaching her skin!
You won’t believe this…the woman and her husband are still married! Did I remember to tell you guys that Manny was the only male child in a family of five children? Yeah, I know bro…saddening…I can feel you….
There are many who do not believe in the power and existence of Magun, their mistake. It exists and its efficacy rate is very high. Husbands are using it every day on the wives they suspect to be unfaithful.
So when next you start panting after and salivating over that married woman, remember there might be Magun on her.
No! No! It’s not only wives it works on. I have heard stories where ordinary boyfriends, who were just dating a babe, had placed Magun on her. Most times the wife or girlfriend, might be innocent. When it comes to jealousy, no man or woman is reasonable.
Jealousy is a dangerous emotion. Don’t be caught in its web. It can rule and compel you to kill!
My wife is promiscuous, husband tells court
A senior civil servant in the employment of the Ondo State Government, has approached an Akure Customary Court, sitting at Oke-Eda,Akure, for dissolution of his 17-year-old marriage with his wife, alleging she was promiscuous.
The husband, Chief Adedayo Ojo,said he was sick and tired of the marriage. The wife, Mrs Ebunoluwa, said Ojo was an irresponsible husband, stressing that he neither cared for his children nor performed his role as husband in the house.
Ojo told the court that he had on several occasions, caught his wife with different men in his matrimonial home.
The man further said that his wife was in the habit of keeping late nights without minding her status as a married woman and a mother.
Ojo added: “My wife lacks courtesy and respect. My wife instigated and brainwashed our three children against me. I can no longer exercise control over my home.”
Ebunoluwa said that she regretted marrying Ojo, who told her that he had two wives before he married her, only for her to later discover that he had eight wives.
That she relies solely on her uncle and other relatives for survival. She told the court that all the men her husband alleged were her concubines, were labourers she used to work with.
The President of the court, Mrs Olayinka Falodun, ruling on the case, admonished the complainant to perform his expected responsibilities, especially towards his children.
Falodun urged the defendant to give due respect to her husband for peace to reign at home.
She further ruled that both parties should bring each two of their relatives to court in the next day of adjournment.
She added that the petitioner should pay N2, 000.00 to the court for upkeep of their three children starting from today, together with their school fees. Falodun, adjourned the case till Nov. 4 for continuation.
The husband, Chief Adedayo Ojo,said he was sick and tired of the marriage. The wife, Mrs Ebunoluwa, said Ojo was an irresponsible husband, stressing that he neither cared for his children nor performed his role as husband in the house.
Ojo told the court that he had on several occasions, caught his wife with different men in his matrimonial home.
The man further said that his wife was in the habit of keeping late nights without minding her status as a married woman and a mother.
Ojo added: “My wife lacks courtesy and respect. My wife instigated and brainwashed our three children against me. I can no longer exercise control over my home.”
Ebunoluwa said that she regretted marrying Ojo, who told her that he had two wives before he married her, only for her to later discover that he had eight wives.
That she relies solely on her uncle and other relatives for survival. She told the court that all the men her husband alleged were her concubines, were labourers she used to work with.
The President of the court, Mrs Olayinka Falodun, ruling on the case, admonished the complainant to perform his expected responsibilities, especially towards his children.
Falodun urged the defendant to give due respect to her husband for peace to reign at home.
She further ruled that both parties should bring each two of their relatives to court in the next day of adjournment.
She added that the petitioner should pay N2, 000.00 to the court for upkeep of their three children starting from today, together with their school fees. Falodun, adjourned the case till Nov. 4 for continuation.
I only inserted my finger into her vagina, says angry corporal accused of defiling 3yr old
A police corporal, serving at Ugbodo Division in Ebonyi Local Government Area of Ebonyi State, shocked residents in his area after admitting to have inserted a finger into the private part of a three-year-old girl.
The corporal, Mr Samuel Okere, admitted to have violated the girl, but angrily said he didn’t insert his manhood, only his ‘finger.’
He promptly offered the victim’s parents N50, 000 to quell the matter, but they rejected his offer.
Okere committed the act in Ugbodo at the victim father’s house when she returned from school. The victim’s parents had gone for their teaching jobs when the police officer allegedly pounced on the nursery 2 pupil.
When the parents returned from work, the little girl started complaining of pains in her private part. The parents noticed that she couldn’t walk properly.
Worried, her father, Mr Emmanuel Iyiekuna, asked what was wrong with her. The girl told her dad that the policeman inserted something into her private part.
Iyiekuna rushed to Okere’s house and confronted him. The corporal admitted committing the crime, insisting that it was only his finger he inserted into her private part, not his manhood.
He appealed to Iyiekuna not to disclose the matter to anyone and offered him N50, 000 to take care of the victim. The girl’s dad rejected the money.
Iyiekuna later took his child to a nearby clinic where after examining the girl, a nurse told him that the girl’s hymen had been broken.
In anger, the man went and reported the matter to the State’s Family Law Centre, a special court in charge of treating such cases.
At the court, the suspect denied having carnal knowledge of the girl. The chairman of the court, Mrs. Elizabeth Nwali, petitioned the State’s Commissioner of Police, CP Peace Ibekwe, over the matter, calling for intervention and investigation. As at press time, Okere had been arrested for interrogation.
The corporal, Mr Samuel Okere, admitted to have violated the girl, but angrily said he didn’t insert his manhood, only his ‘finger.’
He promptly offered the victim’s parents N50, 000 to quell the matter, but they rejected his offer.
Okere committed the act in Ugbodo at the victim father’s house when she returned from school. The victim’s parents had gone for their teaching jobs when the police officer allegedly pounced on the nursery 2 pupil.
When the parents returned from work, the little girl started complaining of pains in her private part. The parents noticed that she couldn’t walk properly.
Worried, her father, Mr Emmanuel Iyiekuna, asked what was wrong with her. The girl told her dad that the policeman inserted something into her private part.
Iyiekuna rushed to Okere’s house and confronted him. The corporal admitted committing the crime, insisting that it was only his finger he inserted into her private part, not his manhood.
He appealed to Iyiekuna not to disclose the matter to anyone and offered him N50, 000 to take care of the victim. The girl’s dad rejected the money.
Iyiekuna later took his child to a nearby clinic where after examining the girl, a nurse told him that the girl’s hymen had been broken.
In anger, the man went and reported the matter to the State’s Family Law Centre, a special court in charge of treating such cases.
At the court, the suspect denied having carnal knowledge of the girl. The chairman of the court, Mrs. Elizabeth Nwali, petitioned the State’s Commissioner of Police, CP Peace Ibekwe, over the matter, calling for intervention and investigation. As at press time, Okere had been arrested for interrogation.
Okada rider and the boobs’ magic (2)
He told me all sort of things he could buy me if only I could accept to go out with him that day.
Shit! Talk of one nightstand!
He promised me things that even if he sold the bike, he still wouldn’t have been able to afford.
One of those pretty ladies that came to The Sun for their industrial attachment just told me now that she had discovered after careful investigation that Okada riders shy away from picking male passengers.
Some of them will tell you that ladies pay more because they don’t work for the money. It’s a lie!
They just want to feel those boobs bouncing and heaving at every plunge as they speed away.
I heard, but the Lord knows, have not yet seen…I heard that some of them have been known to have swayed some babes with the power of their sugar coated tongues and laid the babes that same day. Ha!
I was told they gauge the receptiveness of babes to their advances by the amount of their back pressure against her boobs. Once she doesn’t complain, they know she’s theirs for the asking.
I heard there’re babes who simply get wet once their mango touches a manly back. I think they are sick! I try not to judge people but in this instance, I think such ladies badly need to see a psychologist.
Abi na psychiatrist dem need to see?
If not, she might do it with a mad man before she knows it. I can’t pretend to understand such ladies. I’m one of those ladies who simply get repulsed if a strange or an uninvited man touches my boobs.
Just as they get susceptible ladies, so also they get men.
Yeah! Men, are you surprised?
Please don’t be! This is Naija! One day, a handsome guy mounted a motorbike. He was a dish.
He has all muscles in their right places. You didn’t need a soothsayer to tell you that an ounce of fat on him would be a criminal offence.
He obviously had been killing himself in a gym somewhere.
As soon as he got behind, the also muscular and good-looking bike rider engaged him in a chatty conversation. As they entered potholes and gallops, the passenger’s manhood took on a life of its own.
He tried to control the slithering serpent, all to no avail. The stubborn snake just kept raising its head until it was biting the back of the Okada rider.
The rider smiled with satisfaction. When he didn’t complain about the hardness trying to bore hole into his jean-clad buttocks, the passenger knew he had found someone of like mind with him.
Homosexuals!
The rider didn’t get to the destination of his passenger before he asked the man if he would like to stop at his place for a chilly bottle of beer. He naturally said yes.
Why, he was dying to ask the same question. They got to the rider’s home and tore into each other like there was no tomorrow. After the imperial act, they went their separate ways without some much as: “Let me have your phone number.” Wow!
The first time I heard this story, I was stunned. If you doubt it, you probably don’t live in our world. In this world anything is possible.
Was it not in Nigeria that something wonderful happened?
I was not born back then but a sage in my village told me the story. He said once in the western part of Nigeria, a child was born without a head. Our scientists did all they could to keep the child alive and finally succeeded in providing him with an artificial coconut head.
He later became the President of Nigeria. I believed it. In Naija, anything is possible.
In a nutshell, don’t be hoodwinked by those Okada riders as they enter potholes. You now know what they want or what they are trying to do.
If any of them tries such nonsense, better warn the fool fast. But please don’t slap him; he might give you a return match!
Some do not know the difference between a man and woman.
If you like that manly back pressing hard against your boobs, best of luck to you!
I know that some of you babes hate my guts today for exposing your secrets delights. Too bad!
As for Mr. Okada rider, better stash a lady in your house for emergency roll in the hay or get married!
If you are married and still salivate over current taping from female passengers’ boobs, you need to have your head examined.
I have another solution for you though. If the hunger for boobs hits you, try to rush home as soon as possible. Quickly call Mama Peter into the room and grab her boobs as if your life depends on it!
Suckle for all you’re worth. Start with the left boob then proceed to the right.
Do it for 30 minutes. Yeah, 30 minutes of boobs suckling while nicely missing a lot of passengers as business hours roll by.
As you suckle, remember to be shouting: “God, let this dangerous lust for boobs pass over me. But not as I will, but as you will!”
Shout it 30 times. 15 for each breast.
It has never failed to work. Now remember, for it to work effectively, you mustn’t under any condition make love with the recipient of your tongue.
Ha! Ha! Ha! Yeah I know…I love you guys too!
OKADA RIDER AND THE BOOBS’ MAGIC (1)
An old piece; written in the heydays of commercial bike riders in Lagos State. I enjoyed writing it. Hope you’ll enjoy reading it.
I wouldn’t have believed that Okada riders derive some sort of perverse pleasure from ladies’ boobs pressed…nay…rubbing against their manly backs while they’re on motorbikes.
But I heard about it.
What the heck am I even talking about?
Hell! I witnessed it myself!
I was just at the Maza-Maza Bus stop, a stone’s throw from Mile 2, when I noticed a lady with a well-endowed milk factory.
She was about to mount one of those commercial bikes we call Okada. You know, there are times when some female endowment never ceases to amaze me. That day was one of such days.
I swear that Baba God must have had extra-buckets of milk lying fallow on the day that babe was created.
She had other Okada men at the park gawking!
She selected a bike rider and mounted as if she didn’t know her giant boobs were causing a riot.
It was the thumbs up other bike riders were furtively giving their colleague (the lucky Okada rider she picked) and the knowing winks that made me realised that these men see boobs hitting their back as a sort of a fringe benefit!
And just as was expected….as soon as the babe mounted the bike, the space between her boobs and the back of the guy shrunk to nothing. Even a pin couldn’t slide through…
At slightest gallop and bumps, you and I know what would happen.
I’ve also been a recipient of Okada man’s sly way of tapping current!
In my sort of job, I honestly don’t know what I would have done without Okada. I mounted one some days back.
He was a Hausa rider.
In as much as I tried to keep my tiny egg-size boobs far away from his encroaching back, the man always seemed to want to lean back further towards me.
And my boobs of course!
At a point, I placed my hand and bag in between his back and my precious boobs.
When I finally stepped down at my destination, he presented me with a poker face, while I glared angrily at him.
I was too embarrassed to say the least. I wanted to upbraid him but didn’t even know how or where to start.
Should I go, " Oga, why are you pressing your back against my breasts?"
Some of these Okada men are always looking for someone to trade insults with. Believe me, you had been the loser!
Hum! I wished I was blessed with big, fat buttocks. Oh yes, they like ogling fleshy female bakassi too.
But they dread picking owners of such heavy backyards as passengers.
The weight does terrible things to the tyres of their motorbikes! Ha! Ha! Ha!
For politeness sake, some of them would tell ‘sister fat ass,’ that the area she was heading was N100, instead of the normal N50.
They are simply saying no to her, in a diplomatic way.
I was going for a story one day in the hot scorching sun when I saw an Okada rider having a heated quarrel with a fat lady. Her boobs appeared ready to jump out of her armpits, where some of the excess flesh had sought solace from the enslavement of her brassier.
I didn’t know how the quarrel started but I was able to gather from the rider who was almost on the verge of breaking into tears that his tyres, which he pumped that very day, suddenly went flat after the lady mounted and they had ridden for only a few minutes.
The lady of course refused to accept fault. I couldn’t understand what the hell the man was making so much noise about.
I mean, he knew what he was in for when he picked her as a passenger.
The silly man probably wanted to tap some current! Yes, quote me!
Listen sisters, if you’re on a motorbike and the rider happens to enter a pothole, don’t take it for granted. The man may deliberately entered those potholes so that you would bounce on the bike and your boobs would jump up and down like craze, slamming against his happy and expectant back.
And when they increase speed while you are on the bike, don’t be fooled into thinking they are in a hurry to get you to your destination.
Nay, he just wants to feel your boobs pressing hard against him as you clutch him tightly in fear of falling off because of the speed.
Don’t get me wrong! I’m not saying that all Okada riders are into this nasty habit but a good number of them are simply lascivious.
Living for the thrills for the moment?
My thing is this: “If you can’t touch it, why even bother to enjoy the feel of it?"
My dear, Okada men are Ashawo! Visit any Okada park and see if the discussion does not revolve around a woman and her vital statistics.
Moreover, they have become the king in the slums. They get paid every day and think they’ve arrived. Once he gets a motorbike he can ride, babes will come crawling all over him like bee over honey.
But shoes get size ojare! Just as babes have choices.
Men and babes also have categories. I once believed that babes in fact do have categories until I saw two clean babes… kai!
They were fighting over an Okada rider in Bariga!
Can you beat that? Fighting over an Okada man of all people!
Okada men have toasted me several times.
Some of them would stupidly wave off their fare, forgetting that they still have to deliver their daily money to the owners of the motorbikes.
I remembered the day one tracked me down to my place of work. It was more galling because he happened to be dating someone who respected me very much.
His elder brother just bought him the sparkling motorbike and the fool thought Juliana Francis was the first babe he should impress.
To be continued
I wouldn’t have believed that Okada riders derive some sort of perverse pleasure from ladies’ boobs pressed…nay…rubbing against their manly backs while they’re on motorbikes.
But I heard about it.
What the heck am I even talking about?
Hell! I witnessed it myself!
I was just at the Maza-Maza Bus stop, a stone’s throw from Mile 2, when I noticed a lady with a well-endowed milk factory.
She was about to mount one of those commercial bikes we call Okada. You know, there are times when some female endowment never ceases to amaze me. That day was one of such days.
I swear that Baba God must have had extra-buckets of milk lying fallow on the day that babe was created.
She had other Okada men at the park gawking!
She selected a bike rider and mounted as if she didn’t know her giant boobs were causing a riot.
It was the thumbs up other bike riders were furtively giving their colleague (the lucky Okada rider she picked) and the knowing winks that made me realised that these men see boobs hitting their back as a sort of a fringe benefit!
And just as was expected….as soon as the babe mounted the bike, the space between her boobs and the back of the guy shrunk to nothing. Even a pin couldn’t slide through…
At slightest gallop and bumps, you and I know what would happen.
I’ve also been a recipient of Okada man’s sly way of tapping current!
In my sort of job, I honestly don’t know what I would have done without Okada. I mounted one some days back.
He was a Hausa rider.
In as much as I tried to keep my tiny egg-size boobs far away from his encroaching back, the man always seemed to want to lean back further towards me.
And my boobs of course!
At a point, I placed my hand and bag in between his back and my precious boobs.
When I finally stepped down at my destination, he presented me with a poker face, while I glared angrily at him.
I was too embarrassed to say the least. I wanted to upbraid him but didn’t even know how or where to start.
Should I go, " Oga, why are you pressing your back against my breasts?"
Some of these Okada men are always looking for someone to trade insults with. Believe me, you had been the loser!
Hum! I wished I was blessed with big, fat buttocks. Oh yes, they like ogling fleshy female bakassi too.
But they dread picking owners of such heavy backyards as passengers.
The weight does terrible things to the tyres of their motorbikes! Ha! Ha! Ha!
For politeness sake, some of them would tell ‘sister fat ass,’ that the area she was heading was N100, instead of the normal N50.
They are simply saying no to her, in a diplomatic way.
I was going for a story one day in the hot scorching sun when I saw an Okada rider having a heated quarrel with a fat lady. Her boobs appeared ready to jump out of her armpits, where some of the excess flesh had sought solace from the enslavement of her brassier.
I didn’t know how the quarrel started but I was able to gather from the rider who was almost on the verge of breaking into tears that his tyres, which he pumped that very day, suddenly went flat after the lady mounted and they had ridden for only a few minutes.
The lady of course refused to accept fault. I couldn’t understand what the hell the man was making so much noise about.
I mean, he knew what he was in for when he picked her as a passenger.
The silly man probably wanted to tap some current! Yes, quote me!
Listen sisters, if you’re on a motorbike and the rider happens to enter a pothole, don’t take it for granted. The man may deliberately entered those potholes so that you would bounce on the bike and your boobs would jump up and down like craze, slamming against his happy and expectant back.
And when they increase speed while you are on the bike, don’t be fooled into thinking they are in a hurry to get you to your destination.
Nay, he just wants to feel your boobs pressing hard against him as you clutch him tightly in fear of falling off because of the speed.
Don’t get me wrong! I’m not saying that all Okada riders are into this nasty habit but a good number of them are simply lascivious.
Living for the thrills for the moment?
My thing is this: “If you can’t touch it, why even bother to enjoy the feel of it?"
My dear, Okada men are Ashawo! Visit any Okada park and see if the discussion does not revolve around a woman and her vital statistics.
Moreover, they have become the king in the slums. They get paid every day and think they’ve arrived. Once he gets a motorbike he can ride, babes will come crawling all over him like bee over honey.
But shoes get size ojare! Just as babes have choices.
Men and babes also have categories. I once believed that babes in fact do have categories until I saw two clean babes… kai!
They were fighting over an Okada rider in Bariga!
Can you beat that? Fighting over an Okada man of all people!
Okada men have toasted me several times.
Some of them would stupidly wave off their fare, forgetting that they still have to deliver their daily money to the owners of the motorbikes.
I remembered the day one tracked me down to my place of work. It was more galling because he happened to be dating someone who respected me very much.
His elder brother just bought him the sparkling motorbike and the fool thought Juliana Francis was the first babe he should impress.
To be continued
My mum gave me expo on Calabar girls’ sexual prowess
I was just gisting with my friend, Tosin.
I told her that I remembered vividly how mother called and advised me to be careful with the sort of friends I keep.
Mother was specifically worried that I was becoming too comfy with my friend, Comfort. Comfort is a bombshell, drop dead gorgeous Calabar babe.
Mother is not educated. Nay, but she was keenly interested in education. When she wanted to attend school, her father stopped her. He said her education would end in her husband’s kitchen. Thus she went nowhere, than from her father’s home to my father’s kitchen.
But she’s my mother.
Education or not, I must listen to her, no matter how weird I believe some of her suggestions to be.
So mother told me. I quote: “Don’t you ever make friends with Calabar girls! They’re dangerous!”
“In what way mama,” I asked, truly perplexed.
“Just don’t make friends with them. If you make friends with them, don’t take them to the home of the man you’re engaged to be married.”
The conversation was getting weirder by the minutes. I looked more puzzled than enlightened. If she was going to get me to be careful of something, she ought to do better than that.
“Why? What happened?”
“Listen to me! Don’t ever take a Calabar girl to even your boyfriend’s house! She’ll snatch him from you! They don’t care about people’s feelings. Their parents trained them from cradle on how to bang. If they get your man, forget it, he’ll never come back to you or even look at you again!”
Did you just burst into laughter? Yes O! Exactly what I did!
Wow! Listen to mother, telling me about sex! Mother does not belong to the categories of mother who are comfortable discussing sex with their kids. In fact, if not that she’s dark skinned, you’d find her blushing at the mention of sex.
I still remembered the day I asked her if she used to kiss father hungrily before they make love. You could have heard a pin drop. By the way, mother should be in her eighties now!
Back to today’s discussion.
Mother went to my father’s home a virgin and never knew or tasted any other guy’s sugar stick. Go figure!
Truth be told, mother had never liked any person from Cross River State. For a long time, I didn’t know why. But I knew that whatever happened to make her detest Calabar babes runs more than skin deep.
I’ve a way of worming things out of people. I discovered that talent while I was on National Youth Service Corps scheme in Jigawa State. I was a sounding board for everyone and anybody having relationship troubles. Apparently, whatever I tell them to do seem to work.
Anyway, I wormed the story out of mother. It was sad, it was tragic and it affected her psychologically. It was a tragic play that had three central characters. Mother, father and a sultry, beautiful, supposedly deceitful Calabar lady, whom mother thought, was her best friend. That’s not the story for today shai!
Anyway, as I was telling Tosin the story, I thought she would laugh as hard as I was laughing but she refused to join.
According to her, I should go and thank my mother for giving me expo on Calabar girls.
I looked at her, shocked.
“Do you really believe that Calabar girls steal men from friends?”
“Yes!” snapped Tosin.
She said she was speaking from experience.
Another colleague of ours, chipped in: “Calabar ladies seemed to know everything. They know how to cook and how to…”
Tosin is going to tell me what happened to her. But she’s busy now.
My friend, Comfort, and my boyfriend actually went behind locked doors after mother’s advice.
I never knew about it until my boyfriend told me. Yes, I was shocked but I was not broken. He told me that they only romanced and fingered.
Nothing catastrophic, like he entering or foraging into her holy of holies happened. He said he only wanted to prove a point to me. That Comfort had the hots for him and was always deriding him in front of me because of her desires.
Did I believe him?
Like I had a choice…yeah, for my peace of mind, I believed him. And I didn’t stop being friends with Comfort.
What am I driving at?
It’s utter rubbish to assign a disreputable behaviour to a certain tribe.
This was why I mentioned mother’s educational background. Mother’s emotion is laced with aged old anger over a certain Calabar lady and her lack of education did not help her belief and situation.
When she narrated her experience to her cronies, they had not disabused, rather they told her that was how Calabar babes used to behave.
They are deadlier than green snakes under the green grasses, they claimed.
Anybody, either male or female, could snatch your lover, irrespective of the tribe or state the person comes from.
It’s more of an individual trait, than a tribal thing. I have heard tons of stories, where Igbo, Hausa, Edo, Kogi, Yoruba, amongst other girls from other states, snatching friends’ husbands, lovers and fiancés.
Narrowing it down to just Calabar girls seems myopic to me. How is it possible that babes who are still in cradle are taught how to bang and pleasure a man? I don’t believe it! But mother does. I know she meant extremely young girls, not toddlers, but I still won’t buy it.
Ladies, men, pick up sexual experiences as they grow. It’s part of growing up. I don’t think any parent has the time to start teaching his son or daughter the rudiment of banging.
If you feel Calabar girls know how to cook and bang better than you, and thus you’re scared, you better go and learn how to bang and cook. Or else you would be psychologically damaged, living in fear that someone would take your guy.
Let’s look at the subject matter in another way.
If your guy is snatched, don’t you think you should see it as good riddance to bad rubbish?
A guy, who is ready and willing to bang your friend, doesn’t respect you. You shouldn’t shed a single tear over such an idiot.
In fact, you should thank you Calabar friend, for pulling the wool off your eyes!
If he can cheat on you with your friend, rest assure that he’ll cheat on you even after you guys have exchange marriage vows and said, ‘I do.’
True, you’ll feel hurt, betrayed and stabbed. You’ll feel a gasping, bleeding hole in the region of your heart. But the pains wouldn’t be there forever. Take each day as it comes. And one day, you’ll ask yourself, “What the hell did I see in him anyway?”
Bottom-line: don’t allow your fear to eat you up. It ate mother and makes her have a sickening phobia for Calabar babes.
Don’t allow your fear of what friends tell you or things you hear or believe to cripple you. Calabar girls are not created to snatch your man.
They’re just like you and I. Searching for attention, affection and love from the right guy.
Why, even your blood sister can snatch your guy! Mothers have been known to snatch their daughters’ husbands.
All you need to do is to pray and shine your eyes.
If he’s your guy, fated to be your husband, he wouldn’t allow himself to be ‘snatched,’ by any female, no matter how beautiful the lady in question is…no matter how well she can dance makosa on his manhood and make him scream in wild pleasure. If he’s yours, he’ll come home. Home is where the heart is!
I told her that I remembered vividly how mother called and advised me to be careful with the sort of friends I keep.
Mother was specifically worried that I was becoming too comfy with my friend, Comfort. Comfort is a bombshell, drop dead gorgeous Calabar babe.
Mother is not educated. Nay, but she was keenly interested in education. When she wanted to attend school, her father stopped her. He said her education would end in her husband’s kitchen. Thus she went nowhere, than from her father’s home to my father’s kitchen.
But she’s my mother.
Education or not, I must listen to her, no matter how weird I believe some of her suggestions to be.
So mother told me. I quote: “Don’t you ever make friends with Calabar girls! They’re dangerous!”
“In what way mama,” I asked, truly perplexed.
“Just don’t make friends with them. If you make friends with them, don’t take them to the home of the man you’re engaged to be married.”
The conversation was getting weirder by the minutes. I looked more puzzled than enlightened. If she was going to get me to be careful of something, she ought to do better than that.
“Why? What happened?”
“Listen to me! Don’t ever take a Calabar girl to even your boyfriend’s house! She’ll snatch him from you! They don’t care about people’s feelings. Their parents trained them from cradle on how to bang. If they get your man, forget it, he’ll never come back to you or even look at you again!”
Did you just burst into laughter? Yes O! Exactly what I did!
Wow! Listen to mother, telling me about sex! Mother does not belong to the categories of mother who are comfortable discussing sex with their kids. In fact, if not that she’s dark skinned, you’d find her blushing at the mention of sex.
I still remembered the day I asked her if she used to kiss father hungrily before they make love. You could have heard a pin drop. By the way, mother should be in her eighties now!
Back to today’s discussion.
Mother went to my father’s home a virgin and never knew or tasted any other guy’s sugar stick. Go figure!
Truth be told, mother had never liked any person from Cross River State. For a long time, I didn’t know why. But I knew that whatever happened to make her detest Calabar babes runs more than skin deep.
I’ve a way of worming things out of people. I discovered that talent while I was on National Youth Service Corps scheme in Jigawa State. I was a sounding board for everyone and anybody having relationship troubles. Apparently, whatever I tell them to do seem to work.
Anyway, I wormed the story out of mother. It was sad, it was tragic and it affected her psychologically. It was a tragic play that had three central characters. Mother, father and a sultry, beautiful, supposedly deceitful Calabar lady, whom mother thought, was her best friend. That’s not the story for today shai!
Anyway, as I was telling Tosin the story, I thought she would laugh as hard as I was laughing but she refused to join.
According to her, I should go and thank my mother for giving me expo on Calabar girls.
I looked at her, shocked.
“Do you really believe that Calabar girls steal men from friends?”
“Yes!” snapped Tosin.
She said she was speaking from experience.
Another colleague of ours, chipped in: “Calabar ladies seemed to know everything. They know how to cook and how to…”
Tosin is going to tell me what happened to her. But she’s busy now.
My friend, Comfort, and my boyfriend actually went behind locked doors after mother’s advice.
I never knew about it until my boyfriend told me. Yes, I was shocked but I was not broken. He told me that they only romanced and fingered.
Nothing catastrophic, like he entering or foraging into her holy of holies happened. He said he only wanted to prove a point to me. That Comfort had the hots for him and was always deriding him in front of me because of her desires.
Did I believe him?
Like I had a choice…yeah, for my peace of mind, I believed him. And I didn’t stop being friends with Comfort.
What am I driving at?
It’s utter rubbish to assign a disreputable behaviour to a certain tribe.
This was why I mentioned mother’s educational background. Mother’s emotion is laced with aged old anger over a certain Calabar lady and her lack of education did not help her belief and situation.
When she narrated her experience to her cronies, they had not disabused, rather they told her that was how Calabar babes used to behave.
They are deadlier than green snakes under the green grasses, they claimed.
Anybody, either male or female, could snatch your lover, irrespective of the tribe or state the person comes from.
It’s more of an individual trait, than a tribal thing. I have heard tons of stories, where Igbo, Hausa, Edo, Kogi, Yoruba, amongst other girls from other states, snatching friends’ husbands, lovers and fiancés.
Narrowing it down to just Calabar girls seems myopic to me. How is it possible that babes who are still in cradle are taught how to bang and pleasure a man? I don’t believe it! But mother does. I know she meant extremely young girls, not toddlers, but I still won’t buy it.
Ladies, men, pick up sexual experiences as they grow. It’s part of growing up. I don’t think any parent has the time to start teaching his son or daughter the rudiment of banging.
If you feel Calabar girls know how to cook and bang better than you, and thus you’re scared, you better go and learn how to bang and cook. Or else you would be psychologically damaged, living in fear that someone would take your guy.
Let’s look at the subject matter in another way.
If your guy is snatched, don’t you think you should see it as good riddance to bad rubbish?
A guy, who is ready and willing to bang your friend, doesn’t respect you. You shouldn’t shed a single tear over such an idiot.
In fact, you should thank you Calabar friend, for pulling the wool off your eyes!
If he can cheat on you with your friend, rest assure that he’ll cheat on you even after you guys have exchange marriage vows and said, ‘I do.’
True, you’ll feel hurt, betrayed and stabbed. You’ll feel a gasping, bleeding hole in the region of your heart. But the pains wouldn’t be there forever. Take each day as it comes. And one day, you’ll ask yourself, “What the hell did I see in him anyway?”
Bottom-line: don’t allow your fear to eat you up. It ate mother and makes her have a sickening phobia for Calabar babes.
Don’t allow your fear of what friends tell you or things you hear or believe to cripple you. Calabar girls are not created to snatch your man.
They’re just like you and I. Searching for attention, affection and love from the right guy.
Why, even your blood sister can snatch your guy! Mothers have been known to snatch their daughters’ husbands.
All you need to do is to pray and shine your eyes.
If he’s your guy, fated to be your husband, he wouldn’t allow himself to be ‘snatched,’ by any female, no matter how beautiful the lady in question is…no matter how well she can dance makosa on his manhood and make him scream in wild pleasure. If he’s yours, he’ll come home. Home is where the heart is!
What’s the big deal if she’s older than you?(2)
My dear man,
I just don’t understand you. You’re completely overlooking the essence of marriage. Do you love this lady enough to spend the rest of your life with her? Does she loves and respect you?
If she does crazy things to your heart beat whenever you hear her voice or footsteps, then she’s probably the one for you.
I read your mail and I fail to see any problem with your family.
I see only you! You’re the serpent in your own paradise.
You don’t seem to be sure you love her enough to want to jettison the issue of age and walk down the aisle with her.
She’s 31 and you’re 29. What is the significance in that age difference? Nothing!
Your mail is filled with holes. It’s like a puzzle, demanding I solve it. Your narration is conflicting.
You said your family loves her. Then in the same breathe, you lied to your family about her age. If they love her, why the heck would they give a crap about her age?
Have you even bothered to share your fears with her? Or are you just stringing her along?
If you love her as you claim, you wouldn’t be bothered about the two-year-age difference.
Love, my guy, is a crazy game! When cupid zeroed in on you, you’re a goner because you’ll never escape his arrow and the pains and pleasure that it comes with. Once you’re in love, you do crazy things and take crazy decisions. Indeed, some people will even say the babe in question used black magic on you.
Love can burn you if you handle it badly. But it’s a burnt you’d give anything to experience.
Take me for instance; I’ve known love. I handled it badly and it flees. Today, I yearn for it.
In this instance sir, I strongly feel that your feeling is what you need to decipher.
If you love her, you’d marry her. But by starting your relationship on a foundation of lies, you’re storing heartache in the barn. The castle in the air will crumble too soon.
I’ve always believe that in marriage, it’s the feelings of the lovers that matters. You’re not marrying your mother or family…you’re marrying a lady/guy. It’s your life. And how it turns out, will always be your call.
Take her today to your parents, look them in the eyes and tell them that she’s actually 31 and that you don’t care.
Tell them you’re going to marry her no matter what. If as you claimed, they already love her, then I don’t see the problem.
She’s 31 doesn’t mean she can’t ball you the right way, does it?
That she’s 31 doesn’t mean she can’t make a good wife or make you happy.
Life is short, especially once you’re married. If an older woman will make you happy, grab her!
There’re several men who married women who are older than them. A lady or guy’s age has nothing to do with having a successful marriage or relationship.
What is the worst thing that can happen if your family discovers her real age? Ask yourself that question. And tell yourself how you’d handle it.
Most importantly, If you’re not convinced about your love for her…you’re not sure of a tomorrow with her…better let her go.
True, you may break her heart, but soonest, a guy who knows her worth, will waltz into her heart and make her his woman.
I can’t pretend to understand men like you.
Men, who leave life-changing decisions to their parents or siblings.
Such a guy is often tied to their mother’s apron string. They make terrible husbands. They run to mummy always. They lack balls!
Do you belong to that category of men?
I see life/marriage as a stage. Our parents have played out their part on the stage…the curtain has been drawn…the next actor is you.
If you’re kid, your parents will wipe your running nose and clean your bruises, but once you’re a full man…you stop running to mummy and daddy.
This is why we have this paradox: The boy is the father to the man.
Better you make decisions yourself, so that when it succeeds or fails, you blame or praise yourself.
If you make the decision to marry someone, you’ll give the relationship everything you’ve got. After all, it was your choice. You live with it!
If your parents make the decision for you, you’ll forever blame them for every twist and turn in that relationship.
The ball is in your court. You got to take the shot!
I just don’t understand you. You’re completely overlooking the essence of marriage. Do you love this lady enough to spend the rest of your life with her? Does she loves and respect you?
If she does crazy things to your heart beat whenever you hear her voice or footsteps, then she’s probably the one for you.
I read your mail and I fail to see any problem with your family.
I see only you! You’re the serpent in your own paradise.
You don’t seem to be sure you love her enough to want to jettison the issue of age and walk down the aisle with her.
She’s 31 and you’re 29. What is the significance in that age difference? Nothing!
Your mail is filled with holes. It’s like a puzzle, demanding I solve it. Your narration is conflicting.
You said your family loves her. Then in the same breathe, you lied to your family about her age. If they love her, why the heck would they give a crap about her age?
Have you even bothered to share your fears with her? Or are you just stringing her along?
If you love her as you claim, you wouldn’t be bothered about the two-year-age difference.
Love, my guy, is a crazy game! When cupid zeroed in on you, you’re a goner because you’ll never escape his arrow and the pains and pleasure that it comes with. Once you’re in love, you do crazy things and take crazy decisions. Indeed, some people will even say the babe in question used black magic on you.
Love can burn you if you handle it badly. But it’s a burnt you’d give anything to experience.
Take me for instance; I’ve known love. I handled it badly and it flees. Today, I yearn for it.
In this instance sir, I strongly feel that your feeling is what you need to decipher.
If you love her, you’d marry her. But by starting your relationship on a foundation of lies, you’re storing heartache in the barn. The castle in the air will crumble too soon.
I’ve always believe that in marriage, it’s the feelings of the lovers that matters. You’re not marrying your mother or family…you’re marrying a lady/guy. It’s your life. And how it turns out, will always be your call.
Take her today to your parents, look them in the eyes and tell them that she’s actually 31 and that you don’t care.
Tell them you’re going to marry her no matter what. If as you claimed, they already love her, then I don’t see the problem.
She’s 31 doesn’t mean she can’t ball you the right way, does it?
That she’s 31 doesn’t mean she can’t make a good wife or make you happy.
Life is short, especially once you’re married. If an older woman will make you happy, grab her!
There’re several men who married women who are older than them. A lady or guy’s age has nothing to do with having a successful marriage or relationship.
What is the worst thing that can happen if your family discovers her real age? Ask yourself that question. And tell yourself how you’d handle it.
Most importantly, If you’re not convinced about your love for her…you’re not sure of a tomorrow with her…better let her go.
True, you may break her heart, but soonest, a guy who knows her worth, will waltz into her heart and make her his woman.
I can’t pretend to understand men like you.
Men, who leave life-changing decisions to their parents or siblings.
Such a guy is often tied to their mother’s apron string. They make terrible husbands. They run to mummy always. They lack balls!
Do you belong to that category of men?
I see life/marriage as a stage. Our parents have played out their part on the stage…the curtain has been drawn…the next actor is you.
If you’re kid, your parents will wipe your running nose and clean your bruises, but once you’re a full man…you stop running to mummy and daddy.
This is why we have this paradox: The boy is the father to the man.
Better you make decisions yourself, so that when it succeeds or fails, you blame or praise yourself.
If you make the decision to marry someone, you’ll give the relationship everything you’ve got. After all, it was your choice. You live with it!
If your parents make the decision for you, you’ll forever blame them for every twist and turn in that relationship.
The ball is in your court. You got to take the shot!
What’s the big deal if she’s older than you? (1)
Good day dear colleague. Hope you are good? Anyway, I need you to help me on this. My girlfriend is 31 and I will be 29 in February. I have been with her for eight months now. We have a healthy relationship. I have taken her to my family and they love her, but my fear now is the age difference.
I like this girl and I would love to be with her for so many reasons. My family doesn’t know that she is older than me. Although she told my mum she is 31 when we visited for my elder sister's wedding. When my mum asked me, I told her she was 26. Now what do I do about her age? Personally, I don't care about her age. I am just a little bit upbeat about what my family will say if they find out she is older. What's your take on this?
9iroud
To be continued
I like this girl and I would love to be with her for so many reasons. My family doesn’t know that she is older than me. Although she told my mum she is 31 when we visited for my elder sister's wedding. When my mum asked me, I told her she was 26. Now what do I do about her age? Personally, I don't care about her age. I am just a little bit upbeat about what my family will say if they find out she is older. What's your take on this?
9iroud
To be continued
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