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Written by Ed..

Once Uju was safely back in her dorm, she stopped to take stock of the situation. She had just taken off her top and displayed herself for her boyfriend’s stupidneighbour—and she gave him a handjob. She was embarrassed and breathing hard, and as much as she wished it was because she had just jogged halfway across campus, she knew it was more than that. Seeing Dele shirtless had excited her, and when he took out his Joystick it sent an electric thrill through her. She had enjoyed dancing for him, taking off her clothes for him, touching him—and she had definitely enjoyed pleasing him and seeing the results of his pleasure.

Uju started to bite at her nails, as she sometimes did when stressed. There was a funny smell when she brought her hand to her mouth, and as she worried at her nails she noticed that her fingers were unusually slippery and salty. She sniffed at the fluid that had smeared her knuckles, and without thinking stuck out her tongue and gave it an investigational lick. The white substance was strangely alluring, salty-sweet and creamy.

Then she realized what it was.

Uju flinched in shock and horror. When Dele came, she had been amazed at the power of it and the absolute quantity of his secretion. She had been faintly aware of a warm feeling on her hands, but the display of his massive endowment spraying out its bountifulload had been at the forefront of her mind, and the relatively inconsequential feeling of his seed trickling over her fingers hadn’t sunk in. But now she had tasted a man’s Pour for the first time. It wasn’t her boyfriend’s Pour.

And she liked it.

Uju rushed to her bathroom and washed her hands several times, her face almost in tears with embarrassment and guilt. As she washed, though, a small part of her regretted letting Dele’s delicious cream go to waste like that. She disregarded the little voice telling her to have just one more taste, and rinsed out her mouth with tooth paste to get rid of the flavour. She changed clothes, throwing the semen-stained shirt in the dustbin rather than wash it. Even after all this, Uju still felt tainted; she took a shower, trying to rid herself of all signs of Dele.

When she was done, she got dressed and went back to Kelechi’s hostel. His lobby was quiet and empty when she arrived. Uju heave a sighof relief; she had been dreading the possibility of another encounter with Dele, or that he would ignore their deal. But it seemed like Dele was principled, at least in this small way. She took a deep breath and proceeded down the hall, knocking softly on Kelechi’s door. Kelechi let her in.

He was looking better; his face had regained the usual smile, and he wasn’t flinching at the slightest bit of light or sound. Even so, Kelechi had clearly had better days. He gave Uju a weak smile as she walked in, looked elegant in a tight blue shirt and a pair of shorts that seemed to be painted on. Her hair was up in a braid which bounced behind her, almost as much as her breasts bounced in her shirt.
“Hey, darling. I thought you would be coming over earlier,” said Kelechi.

“I’m sorry, I got distracted. How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better. Dele was playing some music earlier, but he turned it off and went out about half an hour ago.”
Uju smiled slightly, recalling her meeting with Dele and the deal she made for the sake of her boyfriend. “Well, that’s good. Maybe we can have a quiet night, right?”
Kelechilooked happy at this suggestion. “That sounds great, especially after theprevious night. We’re going to have to get some snacks, though; all my refreshments and drinks are gone. And you may have to pay—I can’t find my wallet at all. I hope no one took it.”
Uju agreed to pay and they settled in to watch TV, lying on Kelechi’s bed (now back in its correctposition, with cleanbed sheets). Theyboughtsnacks about 20 minutes later, and Kelechi managed to keep his food down despite persistentdizziness. Throughout the evening, Uju’s mind kept drifting, and unsurprisingly when it did her thoughts turned to Dele—and Dele’s Joystick. Just holding it had given her a thrill; it had been almost hot to the touch, and strong, like an iron bar. What will she have done if Dele had been more aggressive? Could she have resisted? Kelechi, for his part, didn’t seem to notice anything wrong; he seemed happy just to cuddle Uju and enjoy her company.

At around 10 o’clock, their enjoyable evening was disturbed by something slamming against Kelechi’s door. Before either of them could respond, the door was again shaken by a heavy impact. Then there was a loud bang from next door, as someone threw Dele’s door open, making it bang against the shared wall.

It didn’t take long before the sounds of passionate, violent Bleeping came through the wall.
“Oh, God,” Kelechi complained. “Not again. Every time we’re together, that fool has to bring some Sl*t back to his room.”
Uju face turned a deep frown. Kelechi kept talking, insensible.
“I swear, it’s like he knows we’re trying to enjoy ourselves and he wants to ruin it intentionally.”
Uju turned over to face Kelechi. “It doesn’t have to ruin it. You remember what you said the other day? About how we should make Dele listen to us?” She spoke quietly, just about audible over the moans and screams coming from next door.

To Be Continued…

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