LORETTA, EPISODE ONE

This is the story of one of my female friends and I felt compelled to pen her story down, for her story is also my story. Enjoy !!!

You can call her Loretta but that is not her real name I must warn you. It is simply a name she adopted when she began her journey into being an erotic expert. Many of you call them prostitutes but in truth they are not, they are simply sensual service providers.

I remember when Loretta first started, she had just finished her secondary school education and needed money for her university admission. While it is true that most women go into this line of business because of poverty, I have to tell you that most women do it just for the fun of it. Some of them like to have that thrill knowledge that they have so much power of a man and they can do a lot of things to men when their cock is erect. Let me tell you how it all started. Loretta was one of those who does it just for the fun of it because she loves being a cock tease.

She had gone to her uncle’s house to inform him that she had just been offered admission into the prestigious Federal University Lafia and no money for her uncle to assist Loretta in processing her admission. Loretta was really devastated as she knew there is no way she could raise the required funds needed to process the admission.

Well I don’t want to bore you with the unnecessary details of the many sufferings that Loretta have had to go through with her mother so I am going to stick to just what I know you came here to read. Loretta’s sex life.

Loretta had gone over to a friend’s house, Lily. Lily was in high spirits as she said she was going to the night club in Taiti for the first time that night. Some girls from the University had invited her to go clubbing with them as part of the initiation process to join their club when she resumed as fresher with them. Loretta told Lily of her predicament and she felt sorry for her and invited her to go along with the girls to the club. According to Lily, they said if Loretta was good, they might teach her how to make some money and Lily felt the club might do Loretta some much needed cheering up.  It was not as if Loretta didn’t want to go but there was the challenge of what to wear which was quickly resolved by Lily as she called up one of the girls to inform one of the girls to inform her that she want to bring another girl along.

I remember Loretta’s first outfit to the club, it was a little black dress with cut outs in the front chest region that showed peeks of her breasts. She was naturally more endowed than Lily so she fit into the cloth very well and all the other girls complimented her look. They were three in number, the one they call Shady is like the leader followed by Kiki who I must say was the prettiest of the trio and then there was Lola.

Loretta had lied to her mother that she was going to be attending a vigil with one of her friends and since she had never given  her mother any reason to doubt her before, she didn’t object. At around 12.30am, a car came to pick them up for the outing and that was how Loretta’s journey into the world of erotic services began.

In the next episode I would tell you of all that went down at the club and how Loretta became an instant star among the girls.

CRYSTAL FANTASY.... PROLOGUE

Drowning. She found herself using that term lately

Drowning in the lies, drowning in her emotions, drowning in his love. It was all just too much.

The current was pulling her down into a dark abyss. But she had to ask herself: did I really want to pull myself up? Or did I want to keep drowning in his affections despite the inevitable consequences?

Her body shook with silent laughter as he ran his fingers down her bare back. He flipped her over and stared down at her adoringly
DIARY OF A GIRL CHILD

“God you are beautiful” his voice was husky and smelt of smoke. He must have taken up smoking again, she thought, she didn’t blame him either, the situation was so stressful.

She didn’t answer him with words, but her lips said it all.

He pulled away a little breathless and asked “What time are your parents expecting you home?”

She smiled sheepishly. “Not until six, we have a dinner party to go to at seven”

He sighed. “You have to go to soon”

It wasn’t a question, but she felt obliged to answer it though it felt differently. “Yes, she closed her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek absentmindedly.

“Damn” He  looked at the clock sitting at his bed side “four-fifty, we still have lots of time”

He ran his hands through her hair for a moment as he gazed down at her naked form. After a moment he brought his mouth down to hers and she found herself answering her own questions.

Of course, she was content drowning in this crystal fantasy

DIARY OF A GIRL CHILD.. EPISODE III

Chiamaka listened to her mother but refused to understand. She had sworn that she will follow her personal conviction and the wish of her headmaster against the wish of her parents. Her mother had begun to notice her reticence and was feeling uncomfortable because she knew she would eventually take the blame. She had cautioned Chiamaka when she noticed that she was becoming resistant to her counsels telling her about the eventual brutal reaction of her father when he would come to notice her stand. DIARY OF A GIRL CHILD....EPISODE I

Chiamaka begged her mother to cover for her and promised that she will marry Mazi Nnabuike when she was a little more mature. This had partially consoled her mother who had managed to convince her husband that they should give their daughter a chance to know how to perfectly read and write her names so that she can serve as an accountant to Mazi Nnabuike when they got married. Her husband had asked why she had wished that their daughter should continue school when like all other girls, they had gone to marriage even before they completed primary school. “You know Mazi Nnabuike has many farmlands which yields so many farm produce and he makes a lot of money from them. It will be good for someone to keep the records so that they can know how much they make in a year. Mazi Nnabuike himself will be happy to know that his youngest wife cares about his wellbeing so much so that he will not hesitate to pay her school fees. This had convinced Chiamaka’s father and eventually Mazi Nnabuike himself. But Chiamaka’s father still nursed a fear that something might enter the head of his daughter and she might behave funnily when the time came. He was guardedly cautious when he therefore accepted his wife’s suggestion. More so, he had noticed that the rest of Mazi Nnabuike’s wives were as bare as any blank sheet of paper. The position of her daughter would eventually place her on a position of advantage.

When Chiamaka had passed her Common Entrance Exams and had gone to secondary school, Chiamaka’s father had called her and given to her a perfect lecture on marriage and its benefits, not directing to her his intentions. But she knew. Her mother had time and over again talked on the subject. Anytime her father mentioned the subject, she begged her mother to promise her father that “one more year.” Chiamaka’s mother was a perfect lawyer to her though she too was convinced that it was going to last only for a while.DIARY OF A GIRL CHILD....EPISODE II

Chiamaka had carried her qualities into secondary school where her teacher of sports and physical education had quickly observed with keen interest the talents imbedded in her. He had decided to train her privately because he saw a future that no other girl had in the community. He was not mistaken. Before long, she had been selected to represent her school in the up-coming National Federal games to represent her school and region.

Coincidentally, she was going to represent her school just when Mazi Nnabuike had come to her father to insist that the marriage rights must be performed. Mazi Nnabuike was also having a feeling that he could not explain to anyone in particular. He had mounted pressure on Chiamaka’s father and he too could not resist any longer. When it had been announced to her that she would be married to Mazi  Nnabuike soon, she wept. Her dreams were going to be shattered in front of her own bare eyes and she would become like any other girl she had seen and known grow up in the village. Chiamaka met her mother once more to try to convince her father and Mazi Nnabuike to give her some more time. This time, it was her own mother who refused. ‘Ogini ne me gi?’ her mother thundered “What do you want to do with that book? Don’t you think I have tried for too long? How many women have you seen going to school? Are you different? You will go to your husband’s house next weekend. No more, no less.,”……

Agony of a beloved friend

He was an elderly man in his late fifties with an enchanting smile. The first time i noticed him was one cool evening that i went out for a hot plate of food after a hectic day at work, the next day i was on my way to work when he called me 'o boy' when he noticed the puzzled look on my face, he then explained himself, that he was also at the restaurant i ate the previous night. After exchanging pleasantries he start narrating his story, how he has been retired for over three months and the government have not paid him a dime and have been living from hand to mouth and he concluded by begging for a little assistance to enable him go to his former office in town to know the situation of things. I assisted him the little way i could and from then on he always calls for assistance anytime am passing by his house which i do always give except for days that are a bit difficult for me. 

  One Friday morning I was on my way to work, just as I was about crossing his house he called me ‘o boy’ as he always do because doesn’t know my name. I walked down to him and I noticed he was looking frail, pale and breathing with labour. He mustered some energy to speak and he told me he was looking for buyer for his house, ‘o boy’ am very sick and the doctor that checked me told me to go to Akwanga for checkup, am having pneumonia and I don’t have any money or anybody that will assist me, have looked left and right but help is not coming from anywhere. I told him I will put out words to people and will immediately let him know when I get interested buyer.

I didn’t make it home the next day cos I paid my cousin a visit and stayed there for the weekend and left there for work on Monday morning. On my way home on Monday night I met my elder sister on the road and she broke the news to me right there, your friend the elderly man have passed away and have since been buried. What happened to him was my first question? That was because i didn't know his illness was that serious that he wouldn't even last a day. I saw him just days back and he was telling me about his health and how he wanted to sell his house and raise money to treat his ailing health, I pondered on so many things, how I was not able to help him before he died, I could have done something, anything so as to assist him but they are all regrets.

This is how most of us have been living our lives, a life of regret, a life we only regret what we could have done, a life we have so many opportunity to help a brother, a friend, a sister or someone else in need but we looked the other way.
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We all can still make a difference, now that we have the opportunity let's all be ready to help when the need arises cos regret will always come where we don't.

If you have been inspired by this story please share.

All Good Things

He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's School in Morris, Minn. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. Very neat in appearance, but had that happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional mischievousness delightful.
Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and again that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him for misbehaving - "Thank you for correcting me, Sister!" I didn't know what to make of it at first, but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many times a day.
One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often, and then I made a novice-teacher's mistake. I looked at Mark and said, "If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!" It wasn't ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, "Mark is talking again." I hadn't asked any of the students to help me watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act on it.
I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my desk, very deliberately opened by drawer and took out a roll of masking tape. Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room. As I glanced at Mark to see how he was doing, he winked at me. That did it!! I started laughing.
The class cheered as I walked back to Mark's desk, removed the tape, and shrugged my shoulders. His first words were, "Thank you for correcting me, Sister."
At the end of the year, I was asked to teach junior-high math. The years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to my instruction in the "new math," he did not talk as much in ninth grade as he had in third. One Friday, things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were frowning, frustrated with themselves - and edgy with one another.
I had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down. It took the remainder of the class period to finish their assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed me the papers. Charlie smiled. Mark said, "Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend."
That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that individual.
On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling.
"Really?" I heard whispered. "I never knew that meant anything to anyone!"
"I didn't know others liked me so much."
No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another again. That group of students moved on.
Several years later, after I returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home, Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip - the weather, my experiences in general. There was a lull in the conversation.
Mother gave Dad a side-ways glance and simply said, "Dad?" My father cleared his throat as he usually did before something important.
"The Eklunds called last night," he began.
"Really?" I said. "I haven't heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is."
Dad responded quietly. "Mark was killed in Vietnam," he said. "The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend."
To this day I can still point to the exact spot on I-494 where Dad told me about Mark. I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was, Mark I would give all the masking tape in the world if only you would talk to me.
The church was packed with Mark's friends. Chuck's sister sang "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." Why did it have to rain on the day of the funeral?
It was difficult enough at the graveside. The pastor said the usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water. I was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as pallbearer came up to me.
"Were you Mark's math teacher?" he asked.
I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin.
"Mark talked about you a lot," he said. After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed to Chuck's farmhouse for lunch. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting for me. "We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket.
"They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it."
Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him.
"Thank you so much for doing that," Mark's mother said. "As you can see, Mark treasured it."
Mark's classmates started to gather around us. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home."
Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding album."
"I have mine too," Marilyn said. "It's in my diary."
Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group.
"I carry this with me at all times," Vicki said without batting an eyelash. "I think we all saved our lists."
That's when I finally sat down and cried.

By Sister Helen P. Mrosla

Whatever you sow, that you shall reap

A woman baked bread for members of her family and an extra one for a hungry passerby. She kept the extra bread on the Window-sill, for whosoever would take it away. Everyday, a hunch-back came and took away the bread. Instead of expressing gratitude, he muttered the following words as he went his way: "The evil you do remains with you: The good you do, comes back to you!" This went on, day after day. Everyday, the hunch-back came, picked up the bread and uttered the words: "The evil you do, remains with you: The good you do, comes back to you!" The woman felt irritated. "Not a word of gratitude," she said to herself... "Everyday this hunch-back utters this jingle! What does he mean? "One day, out of despiration, she decided to do away with him. "I shall get rid of this hunch-back," she said. And what did she do? She added poison to the bread she prepared for him! As she was about to keep it on the window sill, her hands trembled. "What is this I am doing?" she said. Immediately she threw the bread into the fire, prepared another one and kept it on the window- sill. As usual, the hunch-back came, picked up the bread and muttered the words: "The evil you do, remains with you: The good you do, comes back to you!" The hunch-back proceeded on his way, blissfully unaware of the war raging in the mind of the woman. Everyday, as the woman placed the bread on the window-sill, she offered a prayer for her son who had gone to a distant place to seek his fortune. For many months, she had no news of him.. She prayed for his safe return. That evening, there was a knock on the door. As she opened it, she was surprised to find her son standing in the doorway.. He had grown thin and lean. His garments were tattered and torn. He was hungry, starved and weak. As he saw his mother, he said, "Mom, it's a miracle I'm here. While I was but a mile away, I was so hungry that I collapsed. I would have died, but just then an old hunch-back passed by. I begged of him for a small part of his food, and he was kind enough to give me whole bread. "As he gave it to me, he said, "This is what I eat everyday: today, I shall give it to you, for your need is greater than mine!" "As the mother heard those words, her face turned pale and red. She leaned against the door for support. She remembered the poisoned bread that she had made that morning. Had she not burnt it in the fire, it would have been eaten by her own son, and he would have lost his life! It was then that she realized the significance of the words: "The evil you do remains with you: The good you do, comes back to you!" Do good and; Don't ever stop doing good, even if it’s not appreciated at that time.
If you like this, share it with others and I bet you, so many lives would be affected.

 

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