Whenever Salisu travels to the village for one meeting or the other, he sends someone from his home to man his spot at the gates and I have no qualms with this. Sikiratu is a sweet little girl. Nineteen years old and as ripe as any woman can ever be. She is slender, with ample…
So, today, standing over my balcony I notice that the Gateman’s daughter is around.
Whenever Salisu travels to the village for one meeting or the other, he sends someone from his home to man his spot at the gates and I have no qualms with this. Sikiratu is a sweet little girl. Nineteen years old and as ripe as any woman can ever be. She is slender, with ample skin in all of the best places.
From here, I can see that her breasts are straining against the cloth of her hijab. It is the way that she feigns innocence when she is around that constantly amuses me. These girls of nowadays cannot be trusted. Look at how she walks on her toes like she is afraid to touch the ground with the balls of her feet. I’ll bet that her pussy has been stretched wider than its elastic limit many times before.
I look at my wristwatch and the time is 3:42pm. I walk into my room behind me and I wear my black hijab clean over the black boxers I had been wearing. An evil thought has come to mind. I take one of Opeyemi‘s pretty lace panties and I put it neatly in my pocket. Then I hurry out of the room and I take the steps down in twos. At this point my dick is swollen, thick with excitement.
.
I can feel my pulse rising as I stretch my long legs one after the other. I pull my nose, a constant habit for when I am nervous and my hands feel clammy to touch.
Sikiratu is done with her prayers when I get to the gate, and it appears that she has gone into the little house there, maybe to rest (or play with her pussy).
“Sikirat!!“, I bellow.
“Sah!” She sings in that smooth, innocent voice of hers. She hurries out of the apartment and when she comes, I can clearly see the outline of her body inside her hijab, some trick of the sun behind us.
“Sikirat, I have a gift for you“, I smile.
“Sah? A gift? Where is it?“
“Let me come inside so I would give it to you.“
She looks puzzled but without waiting for a reply, I walk up the short steps and get into the small room I had built at the gates.
Just a mattress in it, a purple kettle at one end, with Salisu’s prayer mat neatly folded at one corner.
“Sah were is the gift?” Sikiratu asks, a glitter in her eyes.
“It is in my pocket“, I reply.
Her skin is chocolate like tea, and her neck is long. I imagine my hands around that neck.
“Sah remove it let me see now“, she says again, in that soft, polite manner of hers.
“No Sikirat“, I quip, before I pull out Opeyemi’s lace panties so just the edges of it are showing, “if you want it come and get it.“
She looks around, her eyes darting here and there as if to see if anyone is watching.
“Please Sah“, she says, “I can’t. Just remove it and give me please.“
“No“, I respond, firmly. “If you don’t want it excuse me let me leave.”
Saying this, I take a few steps towards the door and she meets me with an outstretched arm.
“Please Oga. Oga please“, she kneels, “I would collect it sah. Please. I would collect it.“
I maintain my frown and then I step back, waiting.
Slowly, she gets up, and when I see her breasts jiggle, my dick leaps for joy again. She stands, looking down on the ground, her hair now exposed as her scarf fell off when she knelt to plea with, and restrain me. Her hair is a thick afro, more beautiful than I would expect from a gate man’s daughter.
But I pay Salisu well for all that he does so I am not too surprised.
“Well?“, I say to Sikiratu.
Her hands are shaking when she brings them close to me, and then into my pockets, and I smile lightly as she takes the gift.
She smiles, too, her face aglow as she spreads Opeyemi’s underwear in front of her face.
“Thank you, Sah! Na go de!“, she says the late bit in the Hausa tongue which I do not understand but I just nod and then I leave.
That night, as Opeyemi sleeps beside me, all I can think of is how dangerously close Sikirat’s hand was to my dick when she put it in my pocket. How her fingers brushed it lightly as she pulled the panties out, and how stiff her neck had gone in that instant. In this instant, my dick has gone hard again but when I try to position myself for entry from through Opeyemi’s side, she purposely adjusts and changes her position.
The next day, after Opeyemi has left for work I hurry out to the balcony, my hijab sweeping the floor behind me. Salisu would be back today and Sikiratu would leave tomorrow.
I observe while she uses garden shears to trim the flowers. I see the way even the cloth she wears cannot hide the watery jiggle of her bum when she moves and I swallow my own spit. I see her but she doesn’t see me as I had designed the balcony in such a way that this is possible.
When she is done, she goes into the little house at the gate and she brings out Salisu’s mat before she kneels to pray. All the while she is praying, I watch. I imagine many things. Desire has built up inside me and Sikirat doesn’t know that she would be my release. But like all great predators, the sweetness of the meat is in the chase. Proper planning and patience are always key, moments to be savored.
And when she is done with the prayers, and she has gone into the room with the mat neatly folded, I know it is time to attack.
To be continued.
Written by Dear Mac.
