Some years back, Bassey was sitting quietly in his office, a bit bored when one of his girlfriends was showed in. “My goodness”, she said in mock exasperation. “That heat is so intense, it’s making me horny!” Bassey arched his brow. A man of-the world, in his own estimation, at least, he’d never seen such brazenness. “It is all these under-garments’ you ladies insist on wearing”, he said, trying to match her flippancy. “I don’t wear them”, she answered boldly.
“I beg your pardon”! “I don’t wear any undergarments, I never do”, assured the girlfriend. “Show me,” Bassey challenged. She then sat on his table facing him and did exactly that. “I was shocked.” Bassey admitted. “I was in an office for goodness sake. I quickly rushed to the door and turned the key. It was up to me to take up her challenge, and I didn’t let her down. Sex was written all over her face. That was one of the most memorable screws I’d had in my life. In fact, she was the best girl I ever had, all things considered.”
Guess who came smirking to me quite recently? Bassey who else! He holds one of these plum jobs that exposes him to all kinds of men – wealthy men with financial baits, and sizzlingly pretty women with sexual baits. Again, his latest escapade took place in his office. If only walls could talk. This married lady had casually let it drop that her husband would be away for months and she was lonely. “Read Psalm 35,” Bassey joked.
“What has that got to do with it”? The lady wanted to know. “It implores God to deal with your detractors”, Bassey told her. “In this case, male detractors who might want to lead you astray.” “From then on”, continued Bassey, “whenever she called or phoned, I jokingly reminded her of the Psalm. Then came this late afternoon when she called in my office after closing hours.
“I was alone in the office with a very close friend. As soon as she got in, she started complaining about how frustrated lack of sex was making her to be. I gave her what I thought would be a sympathy kiss but to my surprise, she clung to me hungrily. “Well. I like challenges! I kissed her some more, running my hands all over her body, she ignored my friend and was rummaging in my pants. I stole a glance at my friend. His eyes were on stalks. Feeling more daring. I raised up her skirts and pulled down her pants. She clung more tightly to me, breathing very heavily. My friend virtually fled from the room. Later, when I finally found him, he was standing behind my car. Looking very disapproving.
“How can a married woman carry on that way?” he asked as if she’d just strangled an infant “It is one thing to have a discrete affair but to put on that kind of shameless show in front of a spectator? And she calls herself – mother? What type of children, would that one raise?’ I told him to stop
being a prude. If we are in the so called jet age and woman want to make the most of emancipation, I want to be first in line reaping all the benefits.”
One of nature’s imperfections is that by the time the average woman reaches her sexual peak in her mid-thirties, her male counterpart’s sexual drive is draining away like used bath water. As a result, most of her sexual fantasies remain unfulfilled and she becomes thoroughly frustrated. The more exposed men are to the most sophisticated pornography and sexual gadgets the more women too become aware of what they are capable of sexually, and how to go about it. It is no secret that quite a number of executive women pack highly sensitive vibrators into their suitcases when they go on business trips.
An industrialist once confessed that he felt humiliated after finally succeeding in making love to one of such women only for her to reach for her vibrator to finish things off: so she could attain an orgasm – a slight on his prowess! He snorted, “she told me I’d only succeeded in arousing her, not in letting her reach orgasm. Animal! That’s the set of women we are raising now. They are nothing more than sex maniacs.” Touchy!
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