Bending the Rule

I started by reaching for the breast, which made her move in an awkward manner. After that, I continued to pet her stomach while moving my hands past the breast.

I moved my hands beneath her clothing and began to gently stroke her stomach as it was exposed.

After that, I followed it upwards until I found her beautiful oranges, which were confined within her bra. I extended my hand and maneuvered it through the opening on her chest so that I could reach her breasts.

At this precise moment, my d.ckk became more intense and pressed up against my shorts. Jane said, "Tell this thing to stay one place," while hitting my di'c'kk with her head in the process. "Tell this thing to stay one place," she said. It was a source of excruciating pleasure to watch her laugh as she sat up and removed her head from between my laps.

I told her, "I'm really turned on now," and she laughed. "Eyyaaa, sorry," she was trying to sound funny, but so much testosterone had been pumped into my system, and the only relief I needed wasn't comic relief; it was s.e.x'u.al relief. "Eyyaaa, sorry," she said again, trying to sound funny.

She rebuked me by stating, "You Went and Looked for Trouble." "Jane, I'm not joking around; I want you." She responded to me with laughter by saying, "Hahaha, you can't be serious." My expression of solemnity was enough to convince her to refrain from laughing. She questioned, "Okay, what is it that you want me to do for you?"

At least she gave the impression of being serious. "And please do not tell me that you want to be with me because you are aware that this is not possible." "Why not?" I responded. It's hard for me to believe I was actually having this debate with myself. I was aware of the final destination.

Whenever a pre-intimate activity consists of more talking and less doing, things are headed in the wrong direction. "Let's stop worrying about the reasons why, and instead focus on finding a solution to the issue you're having. "I've been in your shoes," she whispered, "I know what it's like when you guys are high."

I finally decided to ask, "So, what do you suggest?" She responded by saying, "Well, I don't know, but considering that you were the one who turned yourself on, try turning yourself off." "Or I could help," she said as a concluding thought.

I gave her a small smile and a nod before watching as she ran her hand through my chest and gently caressed my nipple. This was not assisting the situation at all, as my di'ckk was tight and ready for action. She ordered me to "lie down on my laps," and I complied with her demand.

She did the same thing to me that I did to her, sliding her hand inside my cloth and caressing my chest, stomach, and navel. She undid my shorts, moved the boxers, and grabbed my hard di.c.k. She opened my shorts and moved them down a bit.

She gave it a light stroke while I moved my hips in response to it. After that, she started stroking me while holding some of her own saliva in her palms.

That was a pleasant and ecstatic surprise for me, as I had not anticipated it. She began at the bottom and worked her way up, squeezing the very top of my d'ckk as she reached the top of the area.

She performed the same motion several times, putting pressure on the tip of my joystick with each stroke. She continued to stroke my d'c'kk with her right hand as she moved her left hand across my chest and squeezed my ni'p'le's while she continued to do so with her right hand. I continued to move my hips, and after a while, my hips began moving in response to the strokes that she was giving me with her hands.

As it became more dry, she continued while applying additional spit to her hands in order to keep them moist.

When ever she performed the backstroke, sensations were being sent to the upper part of my body, and when she is doing the frontstroke, sensations were being sent to the lower part of my body. The pressure that I applied to the point of my dic'kk caused sensations to be transmitted straight to my brain.

I started to squeeze her bre.as.ts after I dipped my hand into her cloth, after which she removed her bra so that I could access her breasts. When she increased the pressure of the stroke, the pleasure became significantly more intense.

She moved her hand so firmly up and down my shaft while applying the squeeze that it caused me to let out a soft moan, and I was on the verge of passing out.

She timed it perfectly by using her two fingers to hold the tip of my d'c.k.k, and then as I was jerking up and down to pour, she held the spe"r".m at the tip of my d'c'k.k. and released it gradually and intermittently to control the flow of s'pe'r.m. She did this so that she could keep the spe"r".m from going all the way down my d'ck.k.

She allowed the first flow to go off, after which she held the tip, allowed the second flow to go off, and then held the tip back as more sp'er. m reassembled themselves at the very end, where they awaited their freedom.

She drove me completely insane, and I groaned with each and every release she gave me. After being subjected to the onslaught of spasms, I was on the verge of collapsing.

She comforted me by holding me close to her and stroking my back as I gradually became less anxious. She continued to hold me in a hugging position while she asked me how I was doing and then rubbed my back. "Are you feeling better now?" she questioned. "I hope so."

I responded by saying that although this was true, I would have felt much better if it had been your warm and soft veegee rather than your hands.

She broke into a smile after hearing my response and then asked why men are never content. "You claimed that you were turned on; however, with my assistance, you are now turned off." I continued by telling her, "I also said I wanted you." After a brief pause, she finally responded to my question. "There is time for everything," as the saying goes.

As we walked away from the parade ground, I accompanied her to her hostel and then returned to mine. I was still going to have to deal with the ugly one. I was prepared for him to be there when I arrived.

Because he had indicated that he would have two condoms, I wouldn't sleep until I got back to the hostel where I was staying.

Because I had previously taken note of his haughtiness, I wasn't going to be surprised by whatever was waiting for me at the hostel. However, I had a strategy.

My strategy did not call for going on the adventure with Jane. No! I didn't border with any co.n.d.om or take any pictures with Jane, and it wasn't a f.u.c.k in the traditional sense; however, I had other plans.

When I arrived at the hostel, the unattractive one was lounging on my foam. That was something I had anticipated. Because he was not sleeping, I can only assume that he is waiting for me. to boast and make a request for four thousand. to rub it in my face that he had won, that he was the winner.

When I returned from my outing with Joy carrying two used condoms, he made an exception to the rule. I was planning on breaking the rule a little bit more in order to make it work for me. When he saw me, he almost started to jump up and down.

He made an effort to have a conversation with me so that I wouldn't come back to any surprises. After waiting for a while, I went outside to take a shower. I went back home, changed into my pajamas, and then insisted that my foam be released to me.

He presented me with two used c.o.n.do.ms in addition to a phone in order to reveal a video clip. The video clip was more interesting to me than the used condoms he showed.

I took a few minutes to watch the short video clip.

It was abundantly clear; both of them were completely undressed, but the ugly guy only filmed his own face on the video and not the girl's.

There were white shirts, underwear, and pants scattered all over the room. The room, "Where is this?" I questioned, pointing to the deep-red rug that could be seen in the video.

"This is the room I told you I would I would stay and arrange my babes outside," she said. Where exactly? I asked. Even though I was aware that it took place outside of camp, I pressed him to confirm my suspicions. "Outside in kabba nau", he was getting pissed.

I let out a light chuckle before telling him in a firm voice, "We agreed on fu'cing girls in this camp! Not outside in kabba or ajeokuta or lokoja! Assaya, the NYSC orientation camp, within"

He gave off the impression that he was going to jump on me and rip off one of my ears. "What do you mean?" He responded trying to sound nice. He continued by saying, "We did not say whether it will be inside or outside of this camp."

"Yes, that's the same way we didn't say whether it was on same girls or not, but you included that part." "Yes, that's the same way we didn't say whether it was on same girls or not." Therefore, here is the portion that I will be including; it has to be inside the Assaya camp.

He stared at me for a few minutes, and during that time, I was able to make out the expression of dissatisfaction on his face. Even within the legal system, there are different jurisdictions.

The law and bet that we made in order to have jurisdiction stipulates that it can only be applied within the confines of the camp itself.

After hearing me out, he went ahead and put back my foam. As he laid down for the night, I could hear him cussing out loud. Who gives a damn. When revenge is served cold, it tastes the most delicious...

Whatever it was that led me to believe I would be the one to get the last laugh on this situation was pointing me in the wrong direction... mainly due to the fact that the ugly one began plotting his revenge.

Keep in mind that today is the Lord's day in order to keep it holy. This morning did not have a biggle . At least I had something in common with the military men; I believe that Sundays should be respected because they are holy days.

On that particular Sunday morning, I awoke after a restful night's sleep. The previous evening did not see the return of the ugly one. When I got back to the hostel after my sexual adventure with Joy, I found an empty down bunk waiting for me.

After taking a shower and listening to the never-ending argument of my fellow mates at the hostel, I went to sleep.

It should not have come as a surprise that he did not return. He must have spent the night away from camp at the house of the friend about whom he told me.

After all, Sundays are visitation days, and he is free to come into camp whenever he pleases during the other six days of the week. At least it didn't look like anyone was going to try to win the wager. I got myself dressed and prepared for the service.

I was unaware of the specific fellowship that should be attended. Even though NCCF and MCAN were the only religious bodies that were officially recognized at camp, others still had their own venue.

I came to the conclusion that I would enroll in RCCF (Redeemed Christian corpers fellowship). NCCF was home to the most people, but I just couldn't bring myself to become one of them. 

A call came in my phone and when I answered, it was Batanga, the assistant platoon leader on the other end of the line.

She voiced her dissatisfaction with the fact that only a small number of those who were supposed to work in the kitchen in preparation for the morning meal actually did so. If we don't show up, the person in charge of the kitchen will reportedly tell the commandant of the camp about us.

Her tone reflected a great deal of anxiety. I assured her that I would show up as promised. I totally failed to remember that today was platoon 2's day to do the work in the kitchen as well as the work in the sanitation area.

I grabbed my Gideons bible  gave it a quick clean up, and then made my way to the kitchen for the very first time since I had arrived at the camp. I went through the halls of the hostel looking for some familiar faces from platoon 2 that I knew, and I begged them to come help me in the kitchen.

Some of them followed me around with joy. Once we were inside the kitchen, we were greeted by several members of Platoon 2.

The cooks in the kitchen were still heating water for tea on the stove. They needed more people to help carry the food to the area where it would be shared, as well as those who would wash the dishes afterward.

We started, and there were already long lines of people waiting in line at all of the sharing spots. We divided ourselves into pairs, and each pair was responsible for a different location. While one person pours the tea and distributes the bread, another person should mark the meal ticket with the appropriate information.

In less than an hour, breakfast was brought to the table. We joined the other few members of my platoon who were washing coolers and flasks in order to assist those who were doing the washing. Following that, we went and got our own individual loaves, and then we ate our breakfast right there in the kitchen.

I went to a nearby shop and purchased -boiled eggs, which I then distributed to the members of my platoon who were assigned to kitchen duty. The egg was used to supplement the bread that we were eating for breakfast.

It was a lot of fun to eat with the other members of my platoon. The person who identified herself as Bisola was very serious cursing  asaya camp.

She was dissatisfied with many aspects of the hostel, including the bathroom, the fact that there was theft going on at the female dorm, the quality of the food, and many other aspects as well. While I was sitting with my assistant, she asked me about the people who were responsible for the sanitation duty.

I was completely unaware of whether or not they were already doing it. During our conversation, I inquired about her relationship with Sergeant Banjo. It was obvious from the expression on her face that she was taken aback. I remarked to her, "So you're going out with the officer," though it wasn't really a question.

She questioned my credibility by asking, "Who told you?" while giving me an odd look. No one told me. When I put them together, I was able to observe the connection that developed between them. During the parade, I witnessed him giving her preferential treatment in his presence.

"I dont need you to tell me  I was aware of it. I was forthright and honest with her. She shared with me that "He's just interested in her," which meant that "We are not really going out per say." I told her, "The kind of stories I hear about military men isn't what a fine girl like you should be a part of." I was referring to the stories that I hear about military men.

But he seems to be a nice guy. He doesn't womanize" she said. I was curious, so I asked, "Is he married?" "Yeah, but his wife lives in Zaria, which is a long way away." I couldn't help but wonder how a man who was already married and living with his wife in Zaria but was having an affair with a corps member could not be considered a womanizer.

I gave her some guidance as she attentively listened to what I had to say. After that, she asked me the same question that I had asked myself earlier while we were having this conversation, which was, "Why do you even care about me?"

"Since you are my assistant, I would hate for anyone to hurt your feelings on this camp." Because of the intense manner in which she was looking at me, I continued by saying, "And you are a very pretty girl with a bright future."

You deserve better than a man in the military who is already married. She was moved to the point where she was almost had teary eyes. "Were you planning on attending the service at the church?" She inquired.

I responded with a "yes." "Wait for me, and then we can go together." she said.

Mere looking at her, you will observe that she has not taking her morning shower. I had no choice but to give up trying to wait for her. So I declined.