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Humping styles episode 1

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PELE-DONA: UNPLAY REASONS
HUMPING STYLES
HUMP 1

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I got an er£ction.

I just saw the way the girl was moving that booty on the dance floor, and I knew instantly that she was a s£xpert, and I knew she was the one for me…well, for the night anyway.

She was of medium height, a bit slim, but dayuuuuuumn, that booty was the kind of bottom King David saw and immediately planned murder for that woman’s husband –what was her name again – well, doesn’t matter.

But that was an ass to kill for…hey, sosket!

I mean, that booty had vitamins and amino acids and fatty substances. Hit that booty seven times a week by an average of four rounds per day and man, you probably wouldn’t fall sick for the rest of the year!

And yes, as I watched her on the dance floor, gyrating slowly, moving that booty in that shiny black dress, I thought that I would probably hit it from behind for the first round… yo, doggy-hoggy-boggy here we come!

Imagining that curvaceous buttocks bent over in a doggy…oh, Chineke Baba, see how my er£ction is soaring to heights of glory, trying to tear a hole in my trousers!

That booty, bent over, would probably make a blind man praise his maker with passion because if he ran his hands over that curvature, he would regain his eyesight pronto!

WARNING

I wasn’t the least surprised, as a result, when I looked across at her and my third leg just buudangled through my jeans – gbuuush!

Oh, yeah, he was up for a game, and I wasn’t about to deny it the pleasures of knowing the intimate depths of this woman!

I felt the rush of lust hitting my nerves as I sat at the bar holding a glass of whisky-on-the-rocks and looked at that fine piece of flesh.

I had seen her come in with a man who was much older than her. And I had seen him trying unsuccessfully to touch her – on her thighs, on her buttocks, even hold her hand – and I had noted carefully how she always pushed his groping hands away.

I had understood the game immediately: he had brought her to the nightclub to hit on her, but she wasn’t into him. She had probably come with him just to have some fun, or to milk him of a little dough.

The piqued dude was sitting alone at a table near the door now, sulkily looking at her as she gyrated that fine thing on the dance floor. Other guys went around her, but she only had aloof eyes for them. I smiled to myself and emptied my glass.

I beckoned the barman and bought a bottle of fine wine, and then I sauntered over to the table where the man was sitting. Keeping a straight face, I slipped into the seat the girl had vacated.

“Hey, fvck off, that seat is taken,” he said darkly.

I smiled and put the bottle on the table.

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“That is for you,” I said, and then I fished out some fifty cedi notes from my wallet and put them on the table beside the bottle. “Two hundred GH, man. Introduce me to the girl you came in with and I’ll add three hundred more. Cool five hundred. Afterwards, go home and leave me alone with her and I’ll add three hundred more. Eight hundred cool cedis. Take it or leave it.”

He stared at me like I was mad, his mouth opened toyooo like a villager watching porn for the first time.

“You craze?” he asked in squeaky voice.

I shrugged and reached for the money, but his hand came down on it fast, grabbed it, and made it disappear.

“Wise move,” I said with lopsided smile.

“Erm, what’s your name?” he asked after opening the wine bottle and downing a cupful, savouring its rich, sweet taste.

“Pele-Dona,” I said.

He gaped at me.

“Real name?” he asked.

“Nope, nickname,” I said with another smile. “Real names are reserved.”

A few minutes later the girl came to the table, beaming with excitement. The man stood up quickly and offered her his seat.

“Angela, sit down, sit down,” he said with a sick-looking smile. “Meet a good friend of mine, Pele-Dona. Knew each other way back in Koforidua.”

The girl smile and appraised me coolly, and then she offered her hand.

“Pleased to meet you,” she said.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” I said as I shook her hand.

“Listen, Pele, I gotta make a call,” the man said in a rush. “Mind staying with Angela a while? Don’t trust the guys around here.”

“Sure, sure,” I said and stood up. As we shook hands I slipped him the rest of the money I had promised him. He looked at the money with shock again.

“You craze waa!” he whispered, and soon he made his way through the throng of people, leaving me with the sweet Angela.

The girl looked at me. I looked at her.

“Pele?” she asked with a chuckle, her eyebrows raised. “As in the football player?”

“Football legend, yep,” I said.

She nodded.

“And Dona,” she said. “Connected to Maradona?”

“You know your players,” I said and chuckled.

“Pele-Dona,” she said, appraising me. “Savage combination, I must say. A player, ain’t you? Noticed how you got rid of my man. You wanna play?”

“I wanna play,” I said softly.

“It’ll cost you,” she said simply.

“Well, we’ll see about that,” I said with a chuckle. “I know this Italian restaurant downtown. Care for something to eat?”

“Yeah, I’ll want something to eat first,” she said with a smile.

So we left the nightclub, and when she saw my incredible pimped and customized black Hummer with the silver lines parked at the lot, she arced her eyebrows upward and smiled.

“You know how to roll, Pele-Dona,” she said as she got in.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, Angela baby,” I replied.

So we hit the restaurant, ate, and hit a couple more bars and got a bit drunk. By then I had started running my hands down the curves of that incredible booty, and she had been rubbing her hand down the front of my jeans.

“That’s a rock!” she breathed gutturally into my ear. “It’ll cost you.”

In the back seat of my Hummer was a briefcase, and I thumbed the combination, flipped it open, and then I peeled some shiny fifty cedi notes out and dumped them on her thighs.

“Will that take care of the night?” I asked.

She put her head to one side as she gathered the money and made it disappear into her bag.

“If you can last the night, Pele-Dona, the field is yours to score as many goals as you can,” she said sultrily. “But be warned, baby boy…I’ve got some wild humping styles that can break your back!”

“Baby, you’re looking at the hardest-pumping waist in the history of men!” I groaned as I grabbed her b00bs and kissed her long and hard. She m0aned as she grabbed my er£ction through my jeans, and poked that delicious tongue into my mouth with a guttural sound.

Players play, and that was the way it was. We understood each other’s language.

It was time to hit some rhythm, so I got down and went to the back of the car.

I brought out two brownish capsules from my wallet and a sachet of whisky from my pocket. I popped the capsules into my mouth: these were some real Indian killers, the real mangani soshey, and could keep a man hard and pumping for hours.

Smiling in anticipation, I swallowed the enhancers with the sachet of whisky!

I was primed and fortified. This was going to be a wild, wild, night! Oh, yes, Pele-Dona was going to plough down that Angela field and score some classic goals, baaaaaaby!

We hit a plush hotel around midnight.

Time to romp…oh, yeeeeeeeeeah!

What had she said?

Something about she having some wild humping styles…

Well, Angela baby, your humping styles will align nicely with my python, girls!

Yes, it was time for some humping styles…

tbc

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