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I’m trying to chronicle the daily/weekly/monthly activities of a job seeker. Please accept my shabby work, thanks.

The unending stream of applicants and the untimely death encountered by some applicants for the Nigeria Immigration Service [NIS] Aptitude test inspired this series. The deaths from the exercise filled all leading tabloids, many Nigerians berated the handling of the process. The Federal Government got heavily criticised by the opposition. May God grant the family of those that lost their lives during the NIS mess the fortitude to bear the loss. And may the soul of the deceased rest in perfect peace.

Growing up, I was erroneously made to realise all I have to do is to get my grades to a very high level, and my dream job would be patiently waiting for me. But alas, I realised along the line it was a big scam!

Getting excellent grades isn’t enough guarantee for any good paying job. The sooner you all realise that, the better. Folks with the best of the best grades are still languishing at home, in full search of job, not choice jobs, but any job! When the preferable is not available, the available becomes the preferable!

Back to my diary, upon graduation from the university, I’ve found it embarrassingly unthinkable to ask my uncles/aunts for allowance. Wait, allowance for what? Allowance for handouts? Or allowance for pocket money? Pocket money for what? I’m home all the time, food is being prepared, I sleep under the roof my father had made available, so, there’s absolutely, whatsoever, no reason for any uncle/aunt to dole out cash to me, as was the case when I was still an undergraduate.

The moment I realised this, I knew I was in for a very long and challenging introduction to “adulthood”. As a sharp guy, who is always conscious of his immediate environment, I made a thorough scrutiny of my neighbourhood, I wrote down a long list of the services I can provide for the community and get paid in return. Gradually, I withered the list down till I got to only one conclusion. I took down all the addresses of the households with secondary schools kids, I immediately embarked on “packaging” my lesson centre. Hmmm, lesson centre sounds archaic, I changed it to coaching centre. Then I realised that’s too common. I finally settled for “SAMA STANDARD TUTORS”.

From my little savings from my undergraduate days, I was able to print banners, posters and handbills/fliers for my potential clients. I went round my hood to distribute the printed materials to all households. No call came through after two weeks. I was really disappointed. Again, when hunger struck, I went round these households, made enquiry why they haven’t made findings about the new coaching centre in town, then I realised most of the kids didn’t deliver the fliers to their parents/ guardians. Personally, I made a resolution to deliver those handbills on a sunday, when I was sure most parents would be home. The following sunday, I made the rounds to all those households, I got affirmative responses.

The following week, I got 13 students at my coaching centre, I took off in our flat’s living room. Within a month, the crowd had increased to 35, that’s a cool way to make a living from these unemployment situation in this country. Our living room got really small for my students, I had to make arrangement with the principal of the local primary school in my hood, Amuwo Odofin Unity School, to allow me use a classroom in the premises of the school for my evening tutorials. He obliged after a considerable amount of money had changed hands.

After 2 months, the parents started defaulting in their payment or probably the students connived with themselves not to deliver the tutorial dues to me. Either way, I got no fund, I stopped making money from the exercise. I kept on maintaining running cost, I had to keep paying the principal for the venue! After 3 months of such turmoil, I had to decide to roll up. That was how SAMA STANDARD TUTORS went up in flames! Again, I found myself back in the labour market, searching rigorously for that DREAM job!

SamaOnPoint’sBlog…..always ONpoint

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You might have woken up at 5am that Monday morning without any inkling of what was going to happen that night. You might have all shuffled to the dormitory bathroom to have your bath with your eyes still heavy with sleep and your bodies still weak. Only after pouring cold water that has been stored overnight in iron buckets will your bodies finally wake up fully. The bathroom might have been too crowded or too stinking for some of you, so they might have resorted to taking their baths in the courtyard or the corridors in front of the rooms.

You dress up quickly and sweep your “portions” on time as the bell rings for breakfast. The prefects among you might have shouted out loudly for everybody to start leaving for the dining hall, shouting threats to the last person to leave the dormitory, while the junior ones among you might have rushed out noisily along the corridor in order not to be the last one out.

Even though your breakfast of beans pottage was watery and tasteless today, you might have eaten anyway, and proceeded to the assembly hall and then to the classrooms for the days’ studies. The first period might have been that of the boring and strict Mathematics teacher whom you have nicknamed “almighty formula”, or the semi literate Biology “corper”, whose original course of study in the university was Agriculture, or the interesting English teacher, whom you named “alacrity”, who uses big grammar to confuse you while she barely makes correct sentences. Besides all these, you might have had a normal day in class and closed for the day in time for lunch.
After the routine of going to the “dorm”, changing into your house wear, and the day’s lunch of dry jollof rice without meat (meat is actually a luxury to you), you return just in time for the Muslims afternoon prayer and your siesta. The junior ones among you might not even be in the mood for siesta yet you might have been ordered to lie quietly on your beds and shut your eyes. Just when sleep was about to overtake you, the sharp ringing of the bell jolts you, followed by the prefect’s orders for you to wake up, say your prayers (for the Muslims) and go to the classroom for “prep”, which also means evening study.

After closing at 6 o’clock, you might have returned to the dormitory to mill around and socialise with one another before time for dinner, while some of you washed your dirty uniforms in front of your various “houses”/”dorms”, in preparation for tomorrow that you will never see.
Dinner is the usual eba and egusi soup. It is Monday after all and you hated it. During our own time we also hated it especially that the eba always had lumps in it and the egusi and vegetable in the soup separates with the water. I hear that things are now worse. The smart ones among you might have even exchanged the night’s meat against tomorrow afternoon’s fried fish in a trade by barter fashion, not knowing that they have eaten the last meal in their lives.

After dinner, night prep and a little free time of usual teenage banters, soaking garri and so on, you might have gone to bed after lights out thinking “oh what a long day”, and looking forward to a tomorrow that will never come. As you wandered about in dreamland, little did you know that some wicked people unknown to you have perfected plans to take your lives.
We may never know how everything happened, and your final moments before your innocent lives were terminated, but what we know is that you have been failed by the nation and the very people who swore to protect you. The country which you pledged to defend its honor every morning deserted you at your hour of need. All that is left to your grieving families and friends are your memories, which they will live with for the rest of their lives.

Our sincere hope is that your death and that of many other victims of this senselessness may not go in vain, that the people who are entrusted with the duty of protecting lives will wake up to the challenge and make the nation a safer place for all of us. Adieu.

Written by Faridah Umar [@faridah_m on twitter].

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The media reported that the security agents guarding the school neighbourhood in Buni Yadi in Yobe were withdrawn on Monday, and in the early hours of Tuesday, Boko Haram insurgents invaded the school and spent about 5 hours killing and burning with no resistance. The following questions become pertinent:

1. Why were the security agents withdrawn?
2. Who gave the order for their withdrawal?
3. Why did the Boko Haram insurgents attack the school immediately after the withdrawal of the security agents and not before?
4. Since Yobe and Borno are under emergency rule, when these murderers drive through towns and villages in a convoy, are there no check points or do they not use the roads?
5. Given the number of guns/daggers they carry in their vehicles, are their vehicles not checked when they drive through the state?
6. Or do the security agents all go to sleep at night and leave the checkpoints unmanned?

PUT AN END TO BOKO HARAM KILLINGS. Written by Okonkwo Collins [@radicalmandate on twitter]

SamaOnPoint’sBlog…..always ONpoint

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By birth, I am Ghanaian. By blood and citizenship, a Nigerian. By faith, a muslim. As to my calling, I belong to the world. As to my heart, I belong entirely to GOD.

It’s the 15th of February 2014, it’s the birthday of the BEST dude in the world. I thank Almighty GOD for seeing me through all the challenges, tribulations and joy of the past year[s].

For the second year running, I’m unable to celebrate my birthday in grand style. This month used to be the month I always look forward to, but for two years, it’s turned out to be my worst nightmare. I’ll do my best, spiritually, to ensure that February 2015, is positive.

Backtrack to February 2013, the month started on a very bright note, with the official flag-off of my blog: | http://www.samaonpointblog.wordpress.com |, then the trials commenced. Series of disciplinary panels set up by the university management filled the rest of February 2013 for me.

Journey forward to the present, February 2014, the same trend is already in motion. With all plans in full gear for: a very successful graduation in style this year, the one-year anniversary of my blog, and above all, the celebration of my birthday. The angel of bad news opened his book to my name once more. It hit me well below the belt, it struck the air out of my trachea, I went numb. Just two phone calls from my former colleagues at the FUTA Students’ Union and I knew, instantly, that things were out of order!

The news of my suspension from the university for one/two semester for the 2013/2014 academic session, ranks high up there, with the top saddest news I’ve got all my life. I really appreciate everyone, who had communicated to me through phone calls, text messages, Facebook posts, Whatsapp chats, Twitter mentions, Instagram likes/comments, 2go messages, and especially via BBM chats etc, may GOD reward you all abundantly.

I hereby use this medium to implore well meaning Nigerians, stakeholders, staffs and students, to prevail on the University Management to temper justice with mercy while treating my appeal. I’m assuring my teeming fans, friends and associates, that there should be no basis for apprehension and fear as I’m irrevocably committed to the imperatives of social dialogue on this “career threatening issue”. I’m stating in unequivocal terms that you all SHOULD NOT and MUST NOT see and react to my suspension as victimisation but as a “corrective punishment” intended to build me into a better law-abiding student of the prestigious Federal University of Technology Akure and a great citizen of Nigeria.

I’m specially apologising to my family members, I’ve always been a very good ambassador of the SALAMI’s from Iya’aru town, Kwara state, I promise to continue to soar our flag higher. It always rains the hardest, on those who deserve the sun. “When ALLAH loves a servant, He tests him,” [Tirmidhi]. I will put ALLAH first and everything will work out excellently, maybe not the way you all planned for me but how it is meant to be. A promise from ALLAH which many of us tend to overlook out of despair is that; “surely after difficulty there is ease. And ‘Wamayyatawakkal ‘ala Allah’ – And whomsoever puts his trust in ALLAH, ‘fahuwa hasbuh’ – He will suffice him. – Qur’an [65:3]

Lest I forgot, it’s the 15th of February, if you don’t know what that date means to me, dear brother/dearest sister, you are not my friend.

YAAGGGAAAAAA!!!!
It’s my birthday!
Thank you GOD for the gift of life!
Irrespective of the challenges, oh LORD, I have more than enough reasons to glorify your name at all time. I’m very grateful my creator.

And to all those who have made my blog one of their favourite site, thanks a lot for making it bigger and better, I promise to work harder on it this second year of its existence. *gracias*

LONG LIVE SALAMI ISMAIL OYEWALE [a.k.a SAMA, SAMA1, el'SAMA, Baron El'Sama]!!!

SamaOnPoint’sBlog…..always ONpoint

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*in reminisce’s voice*…”O ye LOVERS”…

Don’t let the season of love pass you by. Make that person feel special. No matter how big their head is, make it swell a little more. Surprise them with cakes: Sponge cakes, Red Velvet cakes, Chocolate cakes, Madeira cakes, Coconut cakes, Fruit cakes, Cake cakes, Cake cake cakes, etc cakes, and other cakes, at very affordable costs.
Contact #TeemahCakes via:
Mobile number: 07036101677
Instagram: @mzz_teemah
Twitter: @Hebeerhonke
Thank me later.
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INTRO:
This piece is for the entertainment and edification of its readers. While reasoning has been exercised with respect to its accuracy, the author assume no responsibility for errors, omissions or suitability of its contents for any application. Neither do I assume any liability for any damages resulting from the use of information in this piece. It is your responsibility to determine if use of any information in this piece will infringe on your psyche.
Thanks in advance to those of you who always find time to read, to drop comments, to share with your friends. But please remember, I am unable to give a personal reply to everyone.
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Just like yesterday, when we started the journey, we all started from the bottom, but now we are here: GRADUATES. Well not all of us, some of us, will either because of disciplinary measures, stay behind to wait for the next semester or two to graduate, or some will wait behind to clean up the mess from academic spill-overs. But the fact remains: this is our set!

Fellow “new FUTA graduates”, I greet and rejoice with you all as you have come to the end of your academic sojourn from this great citadel of learning, FUTA. I join you all in giving thanks to GOD almighty for bringing you safely through the hurdles of the past years. In keeping with tradition, I implore us all to stop whatever we are doing and give a befitting minute silence to all our colleagues who have passed away during the course of our educational sojourn, may the soul of all the deceased rest in perfect peace.

I did the Pre-Degree, passed, got admitted. Over the years, I scored all available grades: A, B, C, D, E, F, that must be a feat!
Vied for the post of the Assistant General Secretary of the FUTA Students’ Union, got elected. That propelled me to the peripherals of the “campus celebrities” caucus. Then the big one came, contested and won the post of the President, FUTA Students’ Union. That sky-rocketed me to the upper echelons of the “campus celebrities” caucus. My term in office elapsed, I proceeded for the 6-months industrial training attachment.

I faced EIGHT [8] different university panels on about THIRTY [30] occasions, not too bad, if you consider the fact I am a unionist. I represented the university during FOUR [4] different games competition, from the West Africa University Games [WAUG] to the Nigeria University Games [NUGA]. I represented the university once for an international conference in far away South-Africa on Students’ Affairs. Was a representative of the university for the annual fund raising once at the Transcorp Hilton hotel, Abuja. Served on SIX [6] different university standing committees. On countless occasions I had to bail students out of different police stations in the Akure metropolitan area. I got attacked by cult members on THREE [3] occasions outside the campus.

Late at night, I attended various events, both official and unofficial. Had series of meetings, nocturnal and broad daylight. Dined with haters and lovers. For the uplift of students’ welfare, I disagreed and agreed through intellectually heated arguments and debates with Vice-Chancellors, Deputy Vice-Chancellors, deans, professors, doctors, lecturers, security operatives, drivers, politicians, governors, commissioners. Had the rare privilege of conversing with Governor Olusegun Mimiko, shook hands with General Yakubu Gowon, exchange pleasantries with Alhaji Bamanga Tukur and General T.Y. Danjuma. This university gave me the opportunity to do all these and many more, this university gave me the BEST of memories and the WORST of nightmares. GOD in HIS infinite mercy has kept me all through these, hail and hearty, till this moment. I give thanks to HIM, He’s worthy of all praises.

And my special appreciation to everyone I have met, worked with, worked against, laughed with, frowned at, shouted on, agreed and disagreed with, fought with, hugged, kissed, especially all those, that have at one point or the other been my lover, for putting up with all my shortcomings, always being there when I was under intense pressure. God reward you all abundantly.

I would like to end by once again thanking my steadfast supporters, you,  the invaluable folks, who have been the unbreakable backbone of my struggle, from the time I started this journey. I can’t repay you at all, your chants, songs, financial commitment, physical exhaustion, sweat from labour for me, prayers from the spiritual realm etc, just to ensure I, Salami Ismail Oyewale [SAMA], became an established students, via politics, sports and academics. You did not do it for material gain; otherwise, you would have turned your backs on me. No doubt, you decided to stay the course as a mark of respect for my stand, and possibly knowing that I would never let you down. You relied on my judgment to forge ahead through the thicket of the challenges. This I have tried to do to the best of my ability, and will continue to do so until the angel of death takes my soul.

I go into this final phase still loyal to you and committed to what you stand for. I go into this final phase conscious of my responsibilities to you and grateful for all the sacrifices you have been making since the beginning of my journey. I count on you, as I have always done, to guide, support and defend my position. I will strive to work hard to expand and level the opportunities inherent in my course in accordance with the dictates of the University rules and regulations. I declare that we are in this together, and together we shall remain to the end.
HAPPY GRADUATION FOLKS, GOD BLESS THE CERTIFICATE!!!

Thank you very much for going through this piece with patience and rapt attention. May God bless us.

SamaOnPoint’sBlog…..always ONpoint

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☀E☀X☀C☀L☀U☀S☀I☀V☀E☀ ☀B☀I☀R☀T☀H☀D☀A☀Y☀ ☀S☀H☀O☀U☀T☀O☀U☀T☀ T☀O☀ ▬▬▬▬▬▬► #cute #sexy #beautiful #sassy #brilliant #TopCook #ExcellentBlogger and #ProudMuslimah »»» Osomo Omosalewa Bilkiss @Bilkisses
Wishing you a very long life in SOUND health, LOUD wealth and STRONG faith my “blogosphere boss”.
Kindly send her your birthday wishes via:
@Bilkisses on twitter
@Bilkisses on Instagram
@Bill Omosalewa Osomo on Facebook
Kindly send her birthday gifts to me personally, I’ll ensure I deliver them to her. #OkBye
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Benita was on fire with lust and passion. I was glad I had turned her into an insatiable sex beast. From the moment we met at the party, I had waited patiently, cultivated her gently and showered her with all sort of care, in preparation for moments like this when I make her climb my king-sized bed.
All she knew was that she had to have it and she had to have it now.

Right now!

I left her at home to get really charged up for today, which I knew was definitely going to be the last time I was going to do her. At the local joint, I had requested for the best of the best mixtures of traditionally mixed herbs to enhance sexual performance. I intentionally stayed late. I knew to Benita, that didn’t matter just so long as I finally arrive bringing along my delicious hot erection with me. The need for me was overwhelming and I knew the pulsating waves of anticipation were making her knees weak and trembling for my attention.
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The knock on the door spurred me into a frenzy of activity and I knew that finally, my Adeyinka had arrived. I checked myself quickly. My lips were slightly wet with the lipstick gloss. My teeth were clean and I had used the breath spray to make me seem fresh as a slice of peppermint. I had tweaked my nipples to make them stand out. My pussy mound was dry with a little bit of baby powder that smelled so fresh and sweet.
I’ve lost count of the occasions we’ve made love since we met at the party a little over three months ago. I lost my virginity to him. He’s all I’ve got. He has taught me, and made me an expert, in virtually all aspect of love making over that short span of time.

I almost ran to the front door to greet him. When I saw him standing there with his long lean legs and his happy sensitive smile, I jumped into his arms and wrapped my 18 year old legs around his hips rubbing on his crotch with pretence.
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I bent my face down to kiss her lips with my divine wet penetrating tongue. She opened her jaw as wide as possible so my tongue could tickle her tonsils. Her lips were crushed by my masculine power. I dominated her just the way I loved it. We moved inside the hallway and Benita kicked the front door shut with her boots.

I was kissing her somehow fiercely now and cupped her ass cheeks with my strong long fingers. Her need was brimming over now and she knew I probably wanted to put my “business” in her mouth instead of her talented tongue. I know by now, she also had the need of replacing my tongue with something bigger, something thicker, something solely muscular, something that would fill her desire to be used like a receptacle for my passion. She moved her legs down to the floor and I pushed down on her shoulders signalling the time for her to drop to her knees was right now.
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I fell to my knees being careful not to ruin my flesh-colored tights. I remembered my friend’s instructions and made sure I kept eye-to-eye contact with him the entire time he was freeing his huge thing from inside his trousers. I reached inside his opening and pulled his lovely balls out as well so I would be able to lick and kiss them at the same time. With one hand, I started to stroke his thick cock just the way I knew he liked it. My other hand was busy cuddling and lightly squeezing his cum-churning balls. The entire time, I continued to kiss and lick the head of his shaft making sure my tongue lightly teased his little pee hole. From past experience, I knew it would make his pre-cum start to leak out onto my tongue and I would have the sweet taste of his juice inside my mouth. I licked tenderly. Just hard enough to make him on edge and ready to shove his thing deep inside my mouth and lightly enough to not make him wild with unbridled emotion. I moved my tongue in short, sharp circular motions causing his prostate to vibrate with that trigger sensation just before he had to shoot his load.

I slowly allowed more and more of his beautiful cock to enter my mouth and even go down into my throat. He grew impatient and held the back of my head, steady holding his pulsating cock motionless inside my mouth. I looked up at him and saw his eyes were closed. Momentarily, I wondered what thoughts were lurking in his mind as he got swept up into the whirlwind of ultimate release. A release that would shoot forceful spurts of his precious bodily fluids into my waiting mouth and throat. When it hit me, I trembled with the sheer beauty of it. The heat from the copious load shot right down into my tummy and I tried very best to swallow it all down without losing a single drop.
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She sucked the remaining liquid traces out of my shaft draining me with much expertise. I knew I was done with Benita. I need to face another conquest of capturing another lady.

We moved into the laundry room where I deposited her still quaking body on top of the washing machine like she was yesterday’s laundry waiting to be cleaned. I lifted her short skirt up and tucked it inside her waist band. Quickly, I yanked down her sheer pantyhose and threw them on top of the dryer. Now all I had between myself and paradise was the skimpy knickers that she wore loosely.

A short moment later, I was moving my pointed tongue back and forth across her clitoris teasing her with devious intentions. It was something I knew she liked me to do as a foreplay to the heavy stuff later.

Benita was starting to seep liquids now. Her flimsy knickers were already slick with her own juices and I knew it wouldn’t be long before she had to squirt right out onto the cool tile floor if I kept it up any longer. I was glad we were in the laundry room and not in the living room where her sticky stuff would get all over my beloved Persian carpet.

I changed focus now. I was spreading her vaginal lips and sliding my probing middle finger deep inside her vagina. At the same time, my other hand was playing with her clitoris making her gasp with frustration wanting something bigger and harder inside.

She thought I was getting ready to fuck her now, good and proper, but I bent down again and started to lick her clit with measured slowness driving her to the verge of insanity. I hadn’t even touched her with my cock yet down there and she was already having a satisfactory orgasm like a silly little slut with her brains in her pussy.
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Benita heard the sounds of joyful moaning and realised it was coming from her.
We were both completely naked now and I drank in the sight of his erection. When he pushed me down over the washing machine, I knew he wanted to take me from behind and I was in complete agreement with that idea knowing it would push me into a sure-fire orgasm that would top the previous one by a distance.

The touch of his cock on my female parts was not in the least bit delicate. It was rough and it was rude. I loved it like that. He shoved inside demanding that I stay perfectly still and quiet while he got up inside as deep as possible. Then he started to pound my box with firm thrusts that shook me to my very core. I had to move now and my gyrating motions only made his humping action take on a three dimensional complexity. Sometimes it was hard and then it was tender and soft. We were like a team working together to reach the ultimate destination and goal of success. I briefly dreamt about our marriage life together, it was definitely going to be awesome. When he started to bottom out with the leveraged thrusts, I knew I couldn’t take it any longer. I heard myelf scream out his name and other gibberish that didn’t make any sense to at all. The climax hit me just before his flood splashed into my pussy with telling force. My face was thankfully buried in the clean towels on the back of the washer and I inhaled the fresh clean scent. I had started to drool just before my final climax and it was still dribbling down my pointed chin.
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Benita rested bent over the washer and she must have felt my weight shift to a different angle. She should know right away that I was not finished yet and probably wanted to sample the tightness of her heart-shaped flanks. She had been such a ninny the very first time I did that to her because she was convinced it was like a huge sin. Then, she found out all the girls did it and didn’t think anything of it because it was a lot safer than having sex the “normal” way without a condom or a “morning after” pill.

Fortunately, her backside was filled with liquids from my pre-cum, her female juices and the emissions from the great fuck I had just given her. My cock was probing her rimmed pucker in every direction. It seemed like an impossible mission, but just then, her back door opened just a crack and I was able to lodge my cock inside far enough to relax and then slowly apply pressure until her sphincter was forced to give up territory piece by little piece. She sighed when she felt it all collapse and I slid inside all the way right up into her secret cave.

Now she was spread out underneath me and she had no way to stop me from ravishing her rose bud with my shaft of steel. She looked back over her shoulder at me and saw I was smiling at her and she knew right away that I was prepared to hump her fiercely from behind letting her know that her ass belonged to me and me alone. What a sendforth fuck I was giving her! The sound of her ass humping filled the little room and I knew she wanted it again and again just like this. She enjoyed being my ass cumbucket and didn’t care if others watched her entire degrading performance.

She started to tingle when she felt my cock go into that vibrating mode that signalled my load was ready for delivery. Everything seemed perfect until I started to spank her hindquarters harshly.
This was something new and I was not certain if she liked it all that much. It was not until later that night when she realized how exciting the spanking was and she vowed she would never let me get away without giving her a good one each and every time she visited me.

While we were cuddling later that night, I told her my twin brother, Adekunle, was coming in from Abuja to visit and that he was looking forward to meeting her so all three of have could have fun together.
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I was not quite sure how Adeyinka meant what he told me while we were cuddling because he winked at me when he said it. At that moment, I knew I wasn’t his girlfriend all this while, just his “sex toy”. For how on earth could he ever conceive the idea of “three of us having fun?”. I realised how much I had gotten my life ruined by Adeyinka. Earlier in the day, I thought of our “married life” together. Reality dawned on me, I am now being offered as a sex toy for a threesome! What a fool I was! What a fool I have been! At that instance, I checked my side and stared long at Adeyinka, sound asleep, and I made up my mind, I was never going to be a party to a threesome, tonight was our last night together, our last moment together. I started packing my stuffs for my exit! I wept uncontrollably!

…The END.

SamaOnPoint’sBlog…..always ONpoint

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A very special appreciation to all my ardent readers, you folks made 2013 worth the writing, thanks for sparing your time to go through my piece, may GOD grant you all the very BEST of your heart desires in 2014 and beyond.
Looking forward to a better rewarding 2014 with you all. #Bless

*Gracias Gracias* Balqis Yetunde Bello, she can comment die. *hugs and kisses*
*Tuale Tuale* Alabi Fateemah Ibironke, her diction though, 100% #OnPoint, always correcting my draft.
*Thank you, Thank you* Abioye Banke, always spurring me on.
*Double Tuale* Adeyemi Abiola Mama, my “future wife” toh set, thanks a lot, “waGbayi”
*Buate Buate* Falana Abiola Ismail, my childhood friend toh sure jujuju, you’ve been angelic bro.
*Merci beaucoup* Ayobami Abdulsamad, bestie of life, always covering my arse in class since 100level!
*Obrigado* Sanni Olumide Malik, 2nd bestie of destiny of life, always crossing the “t’s” and dotting the “i’s”, flat mate toh quality, ASUU strike’s over bro, let’s get ready for the caretaker’s antics #OkBye.
*Dankeso* Sanni Olanrewaju Shakirat, cousin of life, always keeping tab on the blog from the states, #Bless.
*Medase* @TemmyTohBadt, she’s never missed a piece of mine.
*Asantesana* Teju FUTA and AbeyLincoln FUTA, ever present readers, #Bless.
*Ngatenga* all my God-sent twitter helpers: @Twomie, @Juswizie, @A2grinding, @slimwizzlle, @oladeile, @Mustiloquent, sister Christianah etc, thanks a milli.
*esheey gan* my FEGCO and FUTA pals, habeeb sports, habeeb hitcheens, menteen, you all are the BEST.
*Siya bonga* my very own “oga at the top*, Osomo Bilkiss “Bilkisses” Omosalewa, it all started with you. *mmmuuuaahhh*

And to all those that I didn’t mention, actually, you are the REAL deal, the unseen souls that keeps firing me on, knowing you are out there waiting to read my piece every week, gives me immense sense of fulfilment. May GOD bless you specially.
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How do I do this? How am I supposed to begin to write the story of my life on the internet for public consumption? I can’t believe I’m doing this. It still beats me how I allowed SAMA to talk me into this whole stuff. I must concede that the guy has got impressive persuasive skills. Hard as I’d tried to discourage him from attempting to convince me to do this, he just kept at it. And, in retrospect, I think what got me, more than anything else, was when he said I could be helping other ladies out there who are presently going through what I’ve been through to overcome their trials. By reading through my story this week, on this page, they would come to realize they’re not alone in the trials through the hands of “playboy”, and that soon, they would find their own rainbow of light, waiting for them at the end of the tunnel.

I remember the first time when SAMA, came knocking on my door, I’d only just met him through a mutual friend and so was surprised when he’d called me up to say he needed to see me, that he had something he wanted to talk about. At first, I hesitated, wondering what he had in mind, and then told him it was okay. I gave him my address and asked him to come over the next day. But I was extremely curious. What could SAMA want to talk to me about? Then I remembered how he kept starring endlessly at me when we first met, it was obvious he liked me. Was he coming to ask me out? Was he going to ask me to be his lover? Is he coming to seek a favour from me? All manner of thoughts began to run through my mind but the one that seemed the most likely was the possibility that he was going to ask me out. And I was waiting to shock him. To start with, I couldn’t date a journalist, a freelance for that matter, they can’t pay my bills! And besides, when I really desire to catch some fun, I like my man dark and huge, and SAMA is neither dark nor huge. So, on all fronts, the poor chap had fallen terribly short of my requirements. You can therefore imagine how mildly disappointed I was with myself when I realised the guy had come to discuss something completely different with me.

My name is Benita, I’m from one of the Eastern states of Nigeria. I am the first child of my parents, the only female of four children. Things were quite rough for us. It was a huge struggle for our parents to keep all four of us in school at the same time. You could see the strain, particularly, on my father. The man toiled really hard to provide for us. He couldn’t dress as well as his mates, neither could he indulge in the kind of fun they indulged in, all because his family was his priority. Nothing else mattered but his wife and children. Yet, despite the pressure and burden on his shoulder, dad was a doting father. He always made out time to talk to us, play with us and advise us on how to become well turned out children. Unlike my mother who was the disciplinarian, there was nothing we couldn’t joke with dad about. He rarely got angry. Only problem was that, whenever the old man gets angry, he would practically bring the roof down. But in all, we were one happy family.

My journey into the real world began soon after I finished my secondary school education. I’d blossomed into a young lady then, looking far older than my sixteen years. I had my dad’s impressive height and my mother’s voluptuous body. At just a little over sixteen, my boobs had fully developed. I could tell from the constant gaze on that part of my body from boys in my school, men on the streets and even male teachers, that my full and erect breasts, were a special attraction to them. And then my curvy hips and smooth long legs, plus the fact that I had always been pretty, made me become, overnight, an obvious target for boys. It got to a point I couldn’t leave the house alone, I was always accompanied by my immediate younger brother. His company shielded me from the boys who were always waiting to “toast” me whenever I walked the streets alone. I was undoubtedly a beautiful young girl and everyone knew this, but I guess you all know what they say about a goldfish, it has no hiding place. It is same with a pretty woman, no matter how much you hide from the vultures called men, they would always seek you out. And because we are women, we will always fall time and time again. A guy did finally seek me out, and yes, I fell flat on my back for him. Truth is, not too many girls would resist the charm that oozed from Adeyinka. At the time, I thought he was the best thing to happen to me. But it turned out Adeyinka would be the greatest mistake of my life. My name is Benita and this is my story, this is my song….

[To be continued]

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I find it sort of strange that I’m doing this stuff. To start with, I do not like the tag, “Playboy”. Never liked it. There’s something about it that connotes recklessness and portrays a man as being somewhat irresponsible. Now that’s something I’m definitely not! I am a responsible young man, I’ve got a fantastic job as a creative writer, freelance journalist and visual director with a fairly top advertising agency, and all of that comes with a fantastic pay check as well. But, can I help it if some women just cannot resist climbing into bed with me?

Perhaps I should, at this point, pause to share with you a little about myself. My name is Adeyinka, but friends choose to call me @sweetboy_planet. I am just about six feet tall, fairly light skinned and well built. But I think my biggest asset is my face. Without meaning to sound brash and arrogant, I dare say I’ve got one of the most cute faces you’ll probably ever find sitting on a male body. And when you add that to the fact that I’m a powerful dresser with a remarkable frame that highlights my looks with undeniable sophistication and panache, the overall effect of that on women is better left imagined.

I am a cool guy, a gentleman. I do not go about seeking fun and women, I always prefer my quiet moments. But when the beautiful daughters of Eve come swarming around me like bees to honey, what can I do? Do I turn them down? Hell, no! I certainly won’t do that. Even my late dad would turn angrily in his grave if I did that. Still, I try to be very careful. I do not throw my doors open to all of them, I pick only those I deem deserving of enjoying the pleasure of my company. I consider myself a guy with a lot of class, so my woman must be classy. That she must be beautiful is no compromise, I am too much of a hunk to be seen hanging around ugly Ducklin’s first cousin! My woman must also be neat and clean. Outside of the gorgeous clothes, she must be as smooth and clean as she looks on the outside. Above all these, she must have some brains upstairs. Simply can’t stand a woman who has nothing else to offer me other than a cute face, a big booty and a pair of boobies that reminds one of those tarts strutting their stuffs on Allen Avenue, Ikeja, Lagos.

Everyone acknowledges that I’m one hell of a good looking guy. Even my boss in the office sometimes uses my good looks to attract jobs we ordinarily may have had trouble getting. Once the man realises the reason we hadn’t gotten a particular job is because of some grouchy tough woman standing in our way, he’d quickly dispatch me to work with the pitching team. And of course, all I need to do is use my charm, flirt a little with the lady without necessarily being over suggestive, and leave her feeling she was the most wonderful woman to ever grace the surface of the earth. Nearly every time, it worked. That job would fall right on our laps before close of work that same day. And what do I give the woman in return? Well, let’s just say I pay her back in kind, my own way, and believe me, at the end of the day, everyone goes home happy. For me particularly, nothing makes me feel good like seeing a “customer” looking really happy, you can bet, they would keep coming back for more.

It will probably amaze you to know that I honestly do not have any idea how many girlfriends, or better put, “female acquaintances” that I have. I say this because I try not to be emotionally close to my women. For a man like me, who’s not looking forward to settling down now or in the nearest future, it’s better that way. With women, the less complicated things are, the better it is for both of us. Makes saying goodbyes a lot simpler. But I did fall in love a few times in those early days. There some really great women that I’d been privileged to meet, one of then was Benita, a truly amazing lady.

I met Benita at a friend’s birthday bash. The minute she stepped into the hall, I spotted her. Apparently, I was not the only one who spotted her because, shortly after she arrived, nearly every guy in the party wanted to have a dance with her. And you didn’t have to wonder why. Benita was too gorgeous to ignore. With an average height, a sharp “ignore-me-if-you-dare” physique, and a pretty face that suggests she might be a daddy’s girl, Benita’s pink body hugging gown made you want to pick her up and take her to Mama. But I wasn’t interested in taking Benita to Mama, the only place I wanted to take this hot looking babe to was my comfy, exotic king-size bed…..

[To be continued]

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