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Lustful Taboo


“I should’ve known better, I should’ve stopped”.

Lustful Taboo

Trembling, scared with a chaotic feeling of Mercy and Fury, there is no way I could get mercy at judgement, I am a sure candidate of hell. I would do better if offered another chance in life, or maybe not!

It was dark, I wasn’t sure if I was blind or maybe infinite void of darkness, I was surely not going to see the angels mummy promised awaits me in heaven. She had promised me heaven if I do not stray from the path of righteousness. Now I wish I had followed those paths, but they seemed impossible, the desires were excruciating, no man could’ve possibly overcame the circumstances I faced, come to think of it, It wasn’t my fault I was ladies’ man, the sexiest of women were over me, I know what to do to get the strictest woman to fall for me, I was a Casanova!!

My name is Sly, a gym instructor and my church’s best pianist. I would play the piano effortlessly with a smile and conviction. “Please touch me the way you touch the keys of the piano,” a lady once whispered to me. I was easy going, intelligent, flirtatious but also religious.

Don’t get me wrong.

Religiously flirty.

I usually would not go 3 days without sex with different women. Some knew each other, some would fight, some would never talk to each other again, others would allow the spirit of love to lead them and that would yield the gift of threesome. Whichever the situation was, it’s their problem, not mine.

“Brother Sly, “I would like to see you on Thursday after the evening devotion,” Mrs Agbabiaka our pastor’s wife told me one evening. “Yes mummy,” was my reply, as we called her.

I was excited, but not sure of why I was excited, she is an intelligent woman, smart and precise. A woman with a voice that commands silence and wrapt attention whenever she speaks. She is an example of elegance.

“Kokoko”, I knocked thrice on the front door, she opened the door and invited me in to the visitors sitting room. She was home alone, our pastor had earlier announced last Sunday the annual retreat of all regional pastors in the state capital.

She smelled like rose dipped in a velvet fragrance. She was casually dressed, with a milk-colored round neck shirt, embroidered with “Let the shackles free”.

She broke the silence with a soft cough to clear her throat… “You’d probably wondered why I invited you over. Well, it’s simple and let me go straight to it”.

My heart was pounding, not sure if I should still be excited or smile, or wear a look that calls for sympathy.

“We know you are very talented, and you make our services lively, but then, we have heard of certain misdemeanors with some ladies among the flock”

At this point, I knew exactly what I should do! Stand up run!! dash for the door!! But my legs felt crippled, I could only running in my mind.

“I know you are a young handsome man Sly, but you need to set your priorities right, the kingdom or the hell” she said.

She spoke for a little while, not sure I remembered vividly, but I knew they were about heaven and the path of righteousness, because I had moved from fear of her warnings to an attraction of her moving lips, they were pink, liquid and smooth. They gave out words effortlessly. I shouldn’t be thinking of how they would feel on my lips, but that was all I could think of. I should be thinking about the kingdom, about the path of righteousness.
But it was the opposite. Hell!

“So, promise me you would change,”

I replied yes ma, without giving a second thought to what I was agreeing to, after all, that was the conventional answer to such question.

I left the apartment with a wry smile on my face. She patted me at the back with the words “be good”. I agreed with a nod.

The next Sunday and other service days, I noticed, there is usually a frequent eye contact with pastor’s wife, usually followed with a smile. I was liking her, we talked more on phone, she would send me morning inspirational texts, I would reply with a ‘thank you’.

I wasn’t the inspirational text type of guy; I knew I had to reciprocate her text sometime. I decided to text her, a text which I felt was purely inspirational and the best innocent text I could compose.

“Beautiful things happen to beautiful people, the creator was purposeful about your body shape, beautiful and perfect he created you, with intelligence flowing naturally as honey flows from the honey combs. Have an great week ahead ma”.

Her reply was unexpected.

“Wow! Thank you Sly. Your words are good and tempting, though inappropriate considering knowing who I am to you.”

I ignored her comment and simply replied, “if only they were untrue.”

From that day, we became slutty with our conversations, I would send late night messages, she would do the same, and it was like unleashing the caged romantic beast in her. Longer night calls, mumbled laughters. I don’t know how she kept the calls discreet, but I wasn’t bothered knowing she is an adult.

We started longing to see, talking about wishes of being on each other’s arms.

On this faithful day, Pastor was going to take a 3-day travel for a retreat he was invited over to anchor. We had agreed on me coming to stay over, we had arranged my secret entry from the rear door. I had unconsciously lost interest in other women; I had been buried in the ecstasy of our warmth and flirty conversations that I hardly had time for any other.

I went over as planned, we had a nice evening meal, with candles lit, the aura was filled with romance, the food smelled good, she was a perfect piece of beauty, she would look up every intervals to smile at me followed with shaking of head, as if trying to say some words of, “you, you are a bad boy!”

We talked, laughed and ate, it was while we were almost done eating that our legs touched, and there came the momentary pause and silence, we stared at each other, filled with lust as if an over blown balloon is about to burst, we stood up as if planned and started kissing. Oh mama mia! Her lips were soft, felt like silks dipped in warm oil, her mouth still smelt of the pieces of cake we were having for dessert, I fumbled my tongue all around her mouth and enjoyed every angle of it.


We had our first round right there in the dining, laying her back resting on the refrigerator’s door, with her right leg raised and panties pushed a bit aside. She held me so tight and scratched her nails against my now shirtless body in a semi aggressive but pleasurable manner.

We had a few strokes, and then I decided to carry her carefully ensuring there was no removal of the intersection currently taking place. But as I carried her climbling the small stairs to the room, my d*ck removed, and she made a slight groan.

There in the room, we started the process of love making, kissing her all over from her toes to her ears… followed by a slight but ticklish bit… her hands were not idle either, they were all over my nipples, I explored her beautiful body. I gave her boobs a special attention and sucked as if my salvation was attached to it. When she could no longer take it, she screamed and asked for it, I want it inside me, please!!!


I turned her over, with her face on the bed, tilted her hips up, slightly supported with a pillow, I entered and banged her from her behind. She was gasping at every stroke and begged me not to stop. I would change positions at every intervals, from missionary, to doggy, to spider, to cowboy, to X-men, etc… She cummed severally and finally I did too. I then collapsed on the bed, still naked we both slept off. It was at the middle of the night suddenly the light came up, and the brightness was harsh as it felt like being exposed to the direct sunlight without sunshades.

We had forgotten to close the entrance door, pastor had returned unexpectedly as the travel was canceled due to the rising pandemic which is causing many social gatherings to be restricted.

When I finally woke up and realized what was happening in the real world around me, I was hit with a heavy blow and collapsed back in another long and maybe forever sleep…

He had carried me and locked me up in an air tight room. I had thought I had died and was awaiting judgement, but I was awaiting my pastor’s judgment…


Read also Femme Fatale

Benedict Oguntimehin

Benedict Oguntimehin

Philosophy and Computer Science graduate.
A writer and blogger.

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