Deck My Walls With Cum of Glory

It was the night of our graduation, my roommate Rahmat who was also my best friend, in her drunken state told me that the twin boys back in Nigeria that she told me were her brothers, were in fact her sons.

I was shocked, to say the very least. I did the math in my head and realized she was 15 when she had them. Poor girl. She must have been terrified to learn that she was pregnant and even more so when they turned out to be twins.

Two months after Rahmat went back to Nigeria, while I stayed back in New York. We tried to keep in touch, but life happened. Rahmat got married and had twin girls. I got divorced twice, and I never had children. I never liked them or wanted them.

On my forty-fourth birthday, I got a Facebook message from Rahmat wishing me a happy birthday. She also requested my number, which I gave to her. Rahmat called me an hour later and told me she was in my area and asked if we could grab lunch.

Rahmat and I lost touch after she returned to Nigeria four years ago. We hadn’t spoken or communicated in nine years until she sent me a Facebook friend request two years ago. She claimed she looked for my contact information for a few years but couldn’t find it, and she didn’t realize I had changed my name from Elizabeth Adefowora to Elizabeth Orlov since she didn’t know I had divorced and remarried. Stepan, my previous husband, was Russian, and I didn’t change his name since it helped me get into places in America. I rarely got a call back after job applications when I had my first husband’s name.

As I sat down at the Bar Marseille waiting for Rahmat to arrive, I began to wonder why she had asked to have lunch with me. After she reached out on Facebook, she told me she had traveled to New York a couple of times to see her kids in school. The last time she was here, she posted a picture of her and her daughters at Disney. She didn’t ask for my number then or ask me out to lunch, even though she had texted to wish me a happy 43rd birthday, so why now?

Rahmat got to the restaurant, and after a long hug that made me feel awkward, we sat down and ordered our food. We ate and talked at the same time. She told me how she had to tell her “brothers” that she was their mother. She told me she was sad that I missed her wedding, and I apologized. She showed me pictures of her twin daughters but didn’t have any recent pictures of her twin boys, but she showed me pictures of them from years ago when they went on a trip to Egypt. The girls were fraternal so they looked nothing alike, but I could barely tell the boys apart.

I didn’t have a lot to tell her. My life was quite boring. After my last divorce, I buried myself in my work and only dated casually. It got late, and Rahmat told me she had to leave because she needed to make dinner for her kids. She insisted on paying for dinner as a birthday gift to me, then she left. I added twenty more dollars to the ten dollar tip that Rahmat left. I knew today wasn’t just about catching up, Rahmat wanted something else from me and I felt like she was trying to ease me into it. She did it all the time when we were in school. Rahmat never did anything nice for anyone except she wanted something back.

For the next three weeks, Rahmat made sure to text or call me every day. According to her, she was trying to make up for all the years we missed, but I knew that was a lie. Exactly a month after my birthday dinner, Rahmat and I were getting a cup of coffee during my lunch break when she asked me what my plans were for Christmas.

“Read a book, drink a glass of wine and order pizza,” I said as I took another sip of my coffee.

Rahmat squealed, “Oh my God, you don’t have anything planned for Christmas? That is just great! She clapped her hands like a seal who had just been rewarded with fish.

Did she not just hear me tell her my plans? Why was she saying I have no plans?

“Uhm, I have plans, I just told you.”

“Oh my sweet sweet Ella, those aren’t plans, that is just sad.”

Rahmat was the only one that called me Ella. At first, I hated it, but I grew to love it. Although she was the only one allowed to do so.

“Well, they are plans for me. What else would I be doing on Christmas? “

“Spending it with me and my family in the mountains,” Rahmat said in one breath.

I looked at her and she had her lips pouted and her eyes wide open. She used to do that to get her way when we were younger. It used to work on the guys who worshipped the ground she stood on, but it never worked for me.

“Absolutely not,” I said without thinking about it.

“Come on, Ella, it’s going to be fun.”

I shook my head.

“It’s better than eating pizza and wine on Christmas Day alone.”

Since my last divorce, I have had no reason to make big dinners for Christmas. I used to spend Christmas Eve and the morning of Christmas preparing for Stepan’s big family. I hated it. The next Christmas, after my divorce, I ordered pizza and opened a bottle of wine, and I have done the same thing every Christmas since then. All my friends were also my colleagues. They had families they spent Christmas with. Every year they’d invite me for Christmas dinner, and every time I would turn them down. After a few years, they stopped asking.

I wasn’t about to ruin that tradition.

“I said no.” I replied firmly.

“I promise you it’ll be fun. The kids are going to be there, my brother-in-law will….”

There it was. That was what she wanted from me. She was trying to set me up with her brother-in-law. I knew it had to be because she mentioned that he became widowed five years ago and had been trying to start dating again.

“Are you trying to set me up with your brother-in-law?” I interrupted her.

“Nooo!” Rahmat said, unconvincingly. “I mean, I am not trying to, but if you two were to meet and hit it off, then that would be great.”

I shook my head again. “No, and that is my final answer.” I crossed my hands and leaned back into my chair. Rahmat did the same thing, and there was silence between us for a while.

“Fine, I guess I’ll have to give you your Christmas gift now then.”Rahmat pulled out a box and placed it on the table.

“I didn’t get you anything. I didn’t know we were exchanging gifts.”

Rahmat waved it off, “It’s fine, I just really wanted you to have this.”Please open it.”

I was shocked that she got me a Christmas gift and even more shocked that she wanted me to open it three weeks before Christmas and in the middle of a coffee shop.

“I think I’ll wait till Christmas or at least till I get home,” I said as I tried to put the box in my bag.

Rahmat reached for my hand and stopped me. “It’ll mean a lot to me if you open it now.”

Defeated, I sighed and started peeling off the wrapping paper. Once I was done, I tilted the box and gasped at what I saw. It was a velvet vino, one of the most expensive wines in the country. A glass of this in a restaurant costs around $300, and only a few restaurants had access to it in the first place.I knew Rahmat and her husband were rich, but I didn’t know they were rich enough to be gifting people $5,000 worth of wine.

“Rahmat, I can’t take this; it is too expensive. “ I said as I pushed the wine to her side of the table.

She pushed it back and said, “Don’t worry, it didn’t cost me a thing. I know a guy.”

“What do you mean, you know a guy?” I scanned the bottle to see if I’d find any indication that it was a knock off because there were a lot of them out there. “

Rahmat said proudly, “I get these things for every birthday celebration, wedding anniversary, and whatnot.”

“Who is giving you such an expensive wine? Introduce them to me please, I too would like to be gifted with this every time I celebrate a birthday, “ I said jokingly.

“Oh, it’s just my brother-in-law,” she said matter-of-factly.

“The same brother-in-law you want me to meet?”

Rahmat nodded.

I rolled my eyes. “You are trying to bribe me with this?” I shook the bottle a little.

“It’s not a bribe, it’s a gift.” Rahmat leaned in again “you work for a marketing firm don’t you?” She moved the bottle to the side so she could see my face well and continued before I could reply to her question “rumor has it that Velveeta is looking to hire a new marketing firm.”

The marketing firm I worked for has been trying to get a hold of them for years now. Having them as a client will be great for the firm and great for me if I get to be in charge of their account.

“So what does your brother-in-law have to do with this?”

Rahmat bragged, “He is their country manager.”

I didn’t say anything. I sipped my coffee slowly and turned my attention to the homeless man outside the coffee shop. Rahmat knew exactly how to make me do things; she always had leverage. She knew how much I loved my job and how I was constantly trying to be better at it.

“Fine, I’ll come for your Christmas vacation.” Rahmat squealed, and a few people turned to look at us. “But only because I would like to pitch a few marketing ideas to your brother-in-law,” I said.

Rahmat said playfully, “From pitching to getting hitched.”

“Absolutely not. I would rather have him as a client, and I don’t sleep with my clients. “ I lied. I had slept with some of my clients and even dated some, but I never let it get in my way.

The first day of the Balogun’s Christmas vacation was chaotic. We all arrived at the vacation house on the twenty-third of December. I wanted to come in on Christmas Day, but Rahmat insisted that we fly in together on their private jet. It was just Rahmat, her husband, her twin girls, and me, plus a few crew members on the plane. One of her twin boys was already there with Rahmat’s brother-in-law; they flew in together. The other one was coming in on Christmas morning.

The vacation house was really big, big enough to fit me and Rahmat’s crazy family. Immediately after we got out of the car, three men came out of the house. One of them had grey hair and beards, so I figured it was Rahmat’s brother-in-law. He was a fine specimen of a man, standing at about 5’11 with beautiful brown eyes and the gait of a gazelle. He looked nothing like Rahmat’s husband, but it was to be expected because they had different dads.

The other one was white with very black hair and a peculiar nose.He was the shortest of the three. The last one, I deduced, was one of Rahmat’s twin boys. He was taller than his step-uncle. He had no beard, which was lucky for him because if he had had one, people wouldn’t have been able to see his perfect jawline.

I stood and watched as they all hugged each other. Then Rahmat brought her BIL over to where I was standing.

She pointed at me and said, “Elizabeth, meet my brother-in-law, Femi Coker. Uncle Femi, meet my best friend Elizabeth. “

I shook his hand and smiled at him. His grip was very firm but his hand was soft.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, in a very deep voice.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

He smiled and shook his head, as if he knew that I was calling him sir on purpose to set a boundary. He looked like someone I would fuck, but I needed to make sure I was going to get the Velveeta account before doing anything.

It was the twins’ birthday today, so aside from the happy birthday they sang to them on the plane, their parents had also planned a party for them at a skating rink a few minutes away from the vacation house. After they had unpacked and settled in, they all made their way to the girl’s party. They took three cars, and Rahmat had made sure she ended up in a car with Femi.

Akin, one of Rahmat’s boys, was in another car with Pietro, the white boy who I learned was Femi’s stepson. They got to the rink, and everyone started skating and having fun.

I wasn’t good at skating, but I let them talk me into it. Five minutes later, I was on the floor and everyone gathered around me. I don’t know what happened. One minute I was skating, the next minute I was on the floor in pain.

Akin was inspecting the leg and telling me I just needed to ice it. I just wanted to go home. Both Akin and Femi volunteered to take me home, but I insisted that Femi stay behind because I didn’t want to be alone with him. Even with a twisted ankle, I couldn’t trust myself to keep my hands away from him. I just needed a little more time before I could devour him.

Fortunately, Akin who was a doctor, held me as I leapt to the car. We drove home in silence. The only time anyone spoke was when Akin asked how my ankle was doing. When we arrived at the house, Akin ignored my request to leap into the house. Instead, he scooped me up and carried him into the house.

I was not surprised by how easily he carried me. He was six feet tall and very buff, I on the other hand was five foot eight and slender. He smelled really good and for a second I forgot who he was and wanted to just bury my face in his chest.

He took me straight to my room and placed me on the bed.

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he turned and left the room.

Two minutes later, he was back with an ice pack, a glass of water, and pills for my pain.

“Such a gentleman, “ I teased.

“It’s what I do. I take care of people.” He placed the pack of ice on my ankle.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“My pleasure.” He said with a smile.

He handed me the glass of water and the pill, and I gulped it down.

“How long have you been a doctor?” I asked, trying to fill the silence.

“Four years now,” he replied.

“Wow, so you became a doctor at 25?”

“Twenty-six. I turned thirty two months ago. “

I always forgot that Rahmat was a year older than me. Akin started massaging my foot and asking me where it hurt. He leaned over to touch my thigh, and my foot grazed his cock. I gasped, and he pulled back.

“Did that hurt?”

I was too ashamed to tell him it didn’t hurt, and the only reason I gasped was because I could feel his cock with my feet. “Yes,” I replied, averting my gaze.

“Can I take this off then?” He tugged at her leggings. “I need to make sure everything is fine.”

“No, it’s fine. I am fine,” I blushed.

He looked at me and looked at my thigh. “Are you sure? At least let me check for bruises. Sometimes you can be hurt and not know it. “

I sighed before replying, “Ok, but I am going to think of this for the rest of my life. It’s going to be the most embarrassing moment of my life.” I joked.

He laughed.

“Why is that?” he asked.

“You are my friend’s son, and you are about to see me in my underwear.”

He laughed again, “How about you just see me as a random doctor instead of your friend’s son.”

“Ok, I’ll try.”

He took off my leggings, revealing my slim legs. There were no bruises. He started touching my legs and worked his way up as he repeatedly asked, “Does that hurt?”

It didn’t hurt, but there was one issue I couldn’t tell him about.

I was freaking wet.

The more he leaned over to massage my thigh, the harder my feet pressed against his hard cock.

Akin’s hands were slowly working their way up my thigh. I was certain he was close enough to feel the throbbing between my legs. His touch was like electricity coursing through my body. I let out another sexy moan and said, “Oh, Akin, Yes! That feels good. “

“Oh yeah?” he asked.

“Yes, yes it does.” I replied with a shaky voice.

“How about this?” He asked as she shifted my pants to the side and started massaging my labia. “Feels good?”

“Yes, Akin,” I moaned.

He dragged a finger up and down my slit, rubbing the wetness against my clit before sliding his finger into my pussy. He brought his finger out moments later and put it in his mouth.

“Fuck! You taste so good, “ Akin groaned.

I raised my hips, beckoning for him to continue. He grabbed my hips and slowly brought his face towards my pussy. I spread my legs further apart to give him enough room to devour my pussy. I felt his tongue on my pussy lips. He licked me from top to bottom until my whole body was shaking.

I was burning from the inside. I could still feel his cock with my feet, but it was harder than before. My whole body ached for him. I needed him inside of me.

A sudden rush of guilt overcame me. He was my friend’s son, and I felt like I was betraying her somehow.

“Akin, we shouldn’t be doing this; we need to stop,” I said breathlessly.

Akin either didn’t hear me or chose to ignore me because the next thing I felt were his fingers inside my pussy.

“Oh my god, don’t stop,” I screamed.

My pussy started squirting liquid all over Akin’s hands and face. I pressed his head against my pussy and inched my hips into his face.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I moaned as he fucked me with his fingers.

Akin licked my clit for the first time, and I went crazy. Fuck me, Akin, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me goddammit, fuck me now,” I screamed.

Akin pulled away and pulled his cock out of his pants. I couldn’t get a good look at it because it was getting dark already and they were in too deep to be bothered about turning the lights on, but I knew from feeling it with my leg that it was a massive cock.

Then I felt the head of his cock penetrate me. It was barely inside and already felt like it was stretching my pussy to the limit. That was when we heard a car pull up outside. Akin quickly pulled away, and I almost cried. I wanted that dick so badly, but I also couldn’t risk getting caught.

By the time Rahmat got to my room, I was under the covers, pretending to be asleep. She apologized for disturbing me and stepped out.

The next morning, I got a visit from Femi. He was very worried about me, and I assured him that I was fine. Then Rahmat brought me a cup of tea and a pill for my pain. She apologized for making me go skating. Rahmat informed me that they were all going to pick out a Christmas tree to decorate and make the house more Christmasy.

Femi offered to stay behind, but I insisted that he go with them since I was tired from the pill and needed to take a nap.

I woke up an hour later feeling thirsty. I got up and walked to the kitchen. I was wearing a very thin and transparent night dress and I didn’t bother wrapping myself in a robe because I thought I was home alone.

I got to the kitchen and met Akin there. I wondered why he didn’t follow the rest of the family to pick a Christmas tree. Maybe he stayed back to finish what we started yesterday.

He hadn’t seen me yet, he had on headphones, and his back was turned to me. He didn’t have a shirt on, and his body glistened with sweat. I thought about leaping back to my room quietly. We technically didn’t have penetrative sex yet, even if we almost did. There was still room for deniability. But I couldn’t go to bed last night because my pussy was aching for his cock. The need to fuck him was stronger than the guilt of betraying my friend.

But I didn’t know how to bring it up. I wasn’t even sure he still wanted to fuck me. Maybe unlike me, he was feeling guilty about fucking his mother’s best friend.

There was only one way to find out. Under all the fluorescent light, my dress became even more see through. I pushed my breasts up, which, thanks to Doctor Francis, were still looking plum. I tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around quickly.

The first word that came out of his mouth was “wow” his eyes were transfixed on my breasts and I knew by the way he was looking at them that no amount of guilt was going to make him not fuck me. I noticed he was wearing sweatpants without briefs because his cock swung with every move he made.

“Sleep well?” I asked.

“Yh, I guess,” he said without taking his eyes off my breasts.

“I barely slept at all. My ankle was hurting.”

My ankle didn’t hurt anymore, but I needed to find a way for him to touch me. I grabbed one of the kitchen stools and sat down then I raised up the leg that I hurt and said “can you help me check to see if it’s ok?”

I spread my legs apart and revealed my pussy to him. He rushed over to where I was seated and grabbed my raised leg.

“Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” I moaned.

I was ready for him. My pussy was moist and eager for him to fill her up with cock.

Akin began rubbing my leg and my thighs, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off my pussy. I needed him to know I was ready for him. He was acting really shy and I wanted to make him relax, so I put a finger in my pussy, went up and down my slit a few times, then I pulled it out and stuck it in his mouth.

Akin went crazy. He locked his lips around my finger and sucked it like the last popsicle stick on a hot day. He carried me off the stool and into the living room. He placed my ass on the edge of the couch and dove his head between my thighs. Unlike yesterday, he went straight for my clit, devouring it like a hungry beast.

I grabbed the couch and screamed.

“Fuck yes! Omg, don’t stop please. “

And he didn’t. He went at it for minutes. I could feel my whole body shaking. I was going to either pass out or explode. My pussy started squirting liquid into his mouth and his face.

“Oh yes, please, I need your cock. Please give me that cock,” I pleaded.

Akin carried me up, my five-foot-eight body looking like a doll on his body. I used my leg to push down his sweatpants and his cock sprang up. He shifted me so my weight could rest on his right hand while he used his left hand to guide his shaft into my pussy. Slowly, inch by inch, his whole cock filled my pussy. Then he started slowly fucking me.

He moaned into my ear, “Oh fuck your pussy is sweet.”

I wrapped my hand tighter around his neck and squeezed my pussy against his cock.

“Oh yes, do that again, baby, ahhh.”

I did what he asked. I squeezed my pussy even tighter and he groaned.

Then all of a sudden, Akin sat on the chair and whispered “Ride me.”

I started grinding my waist against the dick. It was so deep inside me, I could feel every inch of it. At first I was grinding slowly, then I picked up the pace and started riding on his dick like my life depended on it.

“Omg god Akin, omg Akin, my pussy is so wet for you, Akin,” I groaned.

He probably was about to cum and didn’t want to do so inside me, so he tried to push me off, but I held on tightly. He tried to tell me he was about to cum, but I kissed him and whispered into his mouth, “no, not yet, please.”

He was really resisting, but I couldn’t let go. I was so close to an orgasm and I didn’t want to lose momentum. So I brought out one of my breasts and stuck it in his mouth.

“Akin.” “Please wait for me,” I moaned, “Please don’t stop now, wait for me.”

He immediately stopped resisting and grabbed my hips and began using my body to fuck his own cock.

I bounced up and down his dick like a doll. My 50kg body made it very easy for me to bounce completely off his dick and bounce back into it.

“I want you to cum for me.”

“I am almost there, please don’t stop,” I begged.

He bounced faster and faster and I started squirting like I had never done before.

“Akin, akin, akin,” I chanted as I prepared to cum.

“Call me Daddy,” he demanded.

I had never really called any man “daddy” during sex; I always preferred to use their name. I wasn’t really sure how I felt about it, but I didn’t have time to think.

“Ok daddy, fuck me harder daddy,” it rolled off my tongue so easily and as soon as I said it, Akin announced that he was about to cum.

“No, daddy, not yet, please,” I pleaded.

I squeezed my pussy against his dick and he screamed.

“Please, I have to cum now. Let me fill up your pussy please.”

That did it for me. As soon as he said those words, I started screaming. “OK, daddy, cum for me now, cum for me, I am ready,” I yelled, wrapping my leg tightly around him and squeezing my pussy one last time.

I felt his cock explode inside me and the hot cum pumped deep into my pussy. We stayed like that for a while, and I felt his cum slowly drip out of my pussy.

After a while, I got up and went to my room to clean up. When I came back to the kitchen, I saw Akin making eggs. He looked a little bit sad, and I started to feel guilty. Was he having post nut clarity? Was he regretting fucking me? He noticed me and tried to smile. Then he turned off the stove and turned to me.

“Listen, I need to tell you something,” he began, “I am not…”

I moved closer and put my hands on his lips to shush him.

I said, “I am sorry if you regret fucking me. I know I am your mother’s friend and it might feel awkward.”

“No, no, it’s not that. I will never regret fucking you. In fact, you have one of the best pussies I have ever had. “

Men have always told me I had the best pussy they’ve ever had, but hearing it from a younger man just felt different.

“Ok, so what is the problem?” I asked.

Before he could reply, the doors of the kitchen burst open and the twins came in, shouting, “Brother Ade, you are back,” they screamed as they hugged him.

Behind them was Akin, the man I thought I had just fucked.