Maybe a Rubberband story

First off, no, it is not a true story. I was ehm..researching some stuff and err..I discovered something. Anyway, it was worthy of a story so..

Secondly, it’s the Nigerian Blog Awards, and ehm…a bit late, but I would love to appeal to all of you dear and beloved readers to nominate us! Scroll down the page for the direct link to nominate! Thankee very nicely! 😀

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Maybe a rubber band story Ah whatever.. Maybe A Rubber band story.

You go tie am with rubberband...”

“Hehe..are you serious?”

“Yes na! YOU GO TIE AM WIT’ RUBBERBAN’!

“Is that what you do?”

“Yes na! See, e even dey help you two ways..”

Femi looked incredulously at his friend. They were sitting on a bench in front of his compound watching the day as it crept closer towards sunset. And as is common when young men in their early twenties sit together, the conversation had gradually drifted to girls and sex.

“Let me tell you something,” Ade, his friend was saying. “I’ve been in this situations many times. These days, condoms are not properly manufactured. They no longer cover the entire penis. So what do you do?”

Femi was tempted to remark on the fact that perhaps, as he had grown up until ‘these days’ maybe, the size of his phallus had grown also, and perhaps the inability for the condom to completely cover his penis didn’t depend on the manufacturers. But he thought better of it.

The topic at hand was quite simple. Femi had been narrating a tale, an unfortunate event that had occurred to him just a few days ago.

Ada had come to visit. For the first time, after many failed and broken promises, she had arrived at his front door. As is customary with such assignations, he had bought her a plate of fried rice and chicken from a quite reputable eatery, stocked his fridge with every kind of suitable drink, and then placed a six-roll of condoms in the bedside drawer.

The conversation had been pleasant, and he had been at his most hospitable, gregarious and seductive. Soon she was moaning under his kisses while he fished about in the near darkness for the packets of polyurethane that ensured impervious ecstasy. As usual, after rolling it up, the rubber came up, or down, only halfway.

Femi slipped in nevertheless. Or, he tried to slip in, and despite having no claim to her virtue, found his passage into Ada to be not only decidedly furry, but also quite incommodious. But he was a man of action, and restrictions be damned, he went on.

Friction, physics and the natural laws of adhesion and cohesion came in to play, and while Femi hammered, all thoughts to the wind, he came to realise that the slip of impregnability that lay between himself and Ada’s innards was quite literally rubbing off.

But with the drums of perseverance roaring, quite indulgently, in his ears and varying sorts of madness pulsing through his veins, he kept on, pushing and pulling, ramming harder and harder, noting with amazing clarity and as yet unconcerned mien that the passage was suddenly, infinitely more pleasurable, that every sensation was utterly more vivid. And a nagging thought at the back of his mind that perhaps, something was amiss.

Then Ada went from, “Oh..ahh..” and the names of various persons and phrases from her native tongue to, “Ouch! Stop!”

And Femi did, or at least slowed, confusion and disorientation fighting a battle with lust upon his face.

“You’re hurting me!” she screamed, not quite loudly, but loudly enough. Perhaps insistently is a better word.

And so, Femi pulled out, and realised to his shock that he was bare. Not the sense of being unclothed or the cool consciousness of the cold air against his exposed buttocks made him note this; rather it was the simple absence of the condom from his erect member. Startled, his eyes searched the dishevelled sheets for the yellow piece of rubber that would confirm his sanity, but he could not find it. In those seconds, his thoughts went from amazed to bewildered to scared.

Again, Ada said, “I’m hurting.”

In that instant, comprehension descended like the beam of a high-powered halogen bulb.

“Can you open your legs a bit?” he ventured tentatively, his penis now a shrivelled piece of flesh.

And therein began the longest and weirdest procedure he ever [and he hoped, ever will] had to perform. After explaining to an astonished and almost enraged Ada, he dipped his index and middle fingers into the cavern which formed her centre. A place which was, for quite obvious reasons, now shrivelled in size and a dry as the crook of an elbow. He began to probe as gently as he could. Finally, thanking his stars, his long fingers and quite ironically, his Creator [Me, of course], he felt the polyurethane constitution of the condom deep within her.

Slowly, in order not to hurt Ada, who was resting on her elbows, her head angled over her waist, trying impatiently to peer into herself, he eased the rubber towards the opening. All the while, he cursed at his fate, the makers of condoms worldwide and thought about how he could remedy the failed situation with Ada. With these thoughts rattling about feverishly in his brain, it was hardly surprising that he managed to lose his hold on the condom more than a few times, having to remove and reinsert his fingers all the way into the female, again and again. It also did not help that quite amazingly; the tunnel began to secrete moisture afresh, resulting in his losing hold more and more often. It did help though that Ada no longer peered over his shoulders, but instead lay almost motionless, her head lolled to a side, her chest heaving in panting spasms.

Finally, after maybe fifteen minutes of gradual pulling and prodding, he had the condom out. Both of them examined the material for signs of blood or any other suspicious fluid or tissue. There was none. Ada whereupon left his house, after dressing up and consigning the rubber to the toilet of course, her ears deaf to his entreaties, apologies, jokes and apparent concern for the pains in his testicles.

So it was that his friend, Ade, visited the next week and while the discussion drifted on a myriad of topics, he asked:

“How far Ada?”

Wherewith this story was told and his friend had exclaimed:

You go tie am wit’ rubberban’!”

Initially, in compliance with the naïveté his friend constantly accused him of; Femi had assumed Ade wanted him to tie the girl with a rubber band, and he had almost laughed at the apparent attempt to make him laugh. One look at Ade’s face however, stripped him of his mirth and reaffirmed his belief in his friend’s insanity.

“Hehe..” he managed weakly. “Are you serious?”

“Yes na! See, e even dey help you two ways…”

Whereupon Ade explained that in order to prevent a condom from slipping down (or up as it should be), the length (or head) of an erect penis, one had to fasten the open end of the condom with a rubber band!

“E dey also help you preserve your stiffness even if you come quick.”

The evening sun waned in the west, the orange glow disappearing over the top of the building in front of them. On the street, young girls walked by, legs wrapped skin tight in material almost as tight as a condom, or perhaps tighter, Femi corrected himself. He caught himself wondering if he could casually sidle up to one of the girls rub her legs, and watch the material run downwards to her toes.

Those girls wey dey tight wella, na dem dey cause this thing pass. And most of them no dey wet,” Ade went on with his recondite air.

For his part, Femi wondered. He wondered as it struck him at how close they had been to a quite unfortunate complication. What if the condom had stuck deeper into her and a surgical operation had had to have been carried out to save her life? What if the situation had degenerated into a form of Toxic Shock Syndrome? Ah well, no time for that now. His attention was drawn to a figure that approached down the road.

Those people wey dey fuck nyash, e dey happen well well for their side. The condom always dey fall inside. Me I no fit fuck nyash oh!

The figure drew closer. Femi smiled.

Some people even dey lick nyash! Which kind madness be that? Cool down carry your mouth put am for nyash…

“Hi,” said Funke as she stopped in front of the two men, her buxom figure blocking out the rest of the twilight.

“Hi,” smiled Femi as he stood up. “Nice hairdo.”

“Thanks,” came the soft voice. Ade was shocked into silence.

Femi waved a goodbye to his friend as he opened the gate. Ade smiled to himself, his grin widening as he heard:

“Your braids, how d’you hold them up? Rubber band?”

LOL.

(<_< )...
(<_< )…

Disclaimer:

  • Nope. No resemblance to persons living or dead. Though I admit, I do know a buxom Funke.
  • Condoms really do fall into vaginas. Hell, in perhaps 2% of all sexual experiences worldwide.

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