SHAGGING THE NEWBIE by Oshoko Bushushu

I came back from Abuja and there was a pretty little thing with a sexy pout sitting at reception.

“You are new, right?” I asked and she nodded.

“That’s Oshoko,” the receptionist said. “I already warned her about you.”

“Have you now,” I said offering my hand.

Sexy Pout took it in her dainty palms and flashed eyelashes and I knew my enemies had failed again.

Bola, the receptionist and I had shagged three or four or maybe five times. Who is counting and who really cares. She thought shagging her meant a relationship. Dumbo!

But then I gave it some thought and realised it wasn’t her fault because If she was any smarter she wouldn’t be in reception, right?

I hate being nasty but Bola has been on a personal crusade against me and my Best Friend. Left to Bola, she would be the last woman I shagged.

Every time a new female staff joins the firm, Bola would try to paint me black, tell her how much of a cad I am and how all I do is sleep with all the female staff.

Now, free advice for you ladies.

That shit never works. Tell a woman a guy is bad and a dog and all you do is arouse her interest. It never fails and you know why, women love a bad boy. Most women love to shag just like the next guy and they don’t want a novice in the sack. Geddit?

Anyway, we shook hands and made formal introductions.

“Oshoko, Head, Media Relations.”

“Rachel, Events.”

I held on for a heart-beat, gave a gentle squeeze then smiled as she flashed her lashes.

I didn’t see her again until lunch time and I was happy when she came to sit beside me.

“You don’t listen to warnings, do you?” I said as I moved my tray aside to make way for hers.

“Should I?”

“Depends,” I said and held her gaze.

“On what?” She asked.

“On what you heard.”

“Well, are you as bad as they say you are?”

“Maybe worse. I love women. I love shagging. Is that a crime?”

“I don’t think so,” she said twirling her pasta in her plate.

“So, do you?” I asked.

“Do I what?”

“Love men and shagging?”

“Really? You are asking me that?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Well you have to find out,” she said and smiled.

I found out two days later, when as I came out of the rest room, I saw Rachel standing at the top of the stairs. She was dressed in a short red skirt and white top.

“Hey, you,” I called.

“Hey, you,” She called back.

“When are we going to find this thing out?” I asked.

She didn’t say a word. She stood there for what seemed like a few seconds then as I watched, she lifted up her skirt and exposed her clean shaven pubis.

“Catch me if you can,” she said and headed for her office.

I gave chase.



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1 Comment

  1. Queenie

    I thought women flutter their eyelashes. Eyelashes don’t flash last time I checked.

    Ok. Continue. My bad.


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