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Tales From The City Of Las Gidi – Season 1 – Episode 17

Tales From The City Of Las Gidi

Tales From The City Of Las Gidi

Tales From The City Of Las Gidi – Season 1 – Episode 17

“Pound harder Madam.” The man said, to the woman seated on the stool in the kitchen.
She ignored him.

Several times, when she would look up to acknowledge his presence, her eyes met the fully erect and thick Male Organ of the Respected Professor for whom she was working for. On other occasions, his thick, creamy c-m would shoot forth from his thick Male Organ, startling the voluptuous mother of five.

“Pound harder Madam.” Was not a statement of encouragement, it was rather a cover to cover-up what was really going on the kitchen, for any passerby lest they look in and see the celebrated Son of the Soil stroking his Male Organ to the presence of the thick-bodied woman, seated on the stool.

The woman got up and took some onions to the frying pan “Sir, I want to start cooking and there would be smoke.”; “Sharon, how many times would I tell you to call me Professor Jega or just Prof. I don’t mind the smoke.” The man replied, the woman shrugged her shoulder and went ahead to place the onions in the hot oil.

Hastily beating a retreat, as the smoke was too intense, the grumpy man retreated to his room where he finished off to a picture of Sharon at his grandson’s dedication ceremony. His c-m splashing all over the walls of the condom covering his Male Organ.
The Cook endured his antics. He paid her a good salary. It was not like anyone would believe that their favored son splashed his seed on the floor of the Kitchen, because of her. Her reputation had taken a huge hit, so much that when she implied to her daughter that Professor Jega was not a Saint; the words from her daughter’s mouth stung her badly “Mama, I know no one is perfect but Prof. isn’t like all those men in this village, that want to sleep with you.”.

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Her daughter’s countenance showed that she realized that her words had just reopened a wound that was just getting healed, the paternity of her mother’s last child was a subject of controversy the previous year. Sharon had worked as a Cook for her husband’s UK-Based cousin.
When things took a turn for the worse for Clifford her husband’s cousin, he took to drinking, becoming a drunkard, he told all who gave weight to the ramblings of a drunkard, that when things were going on well with him, Sharon was warming his bed in the absence of his British wife – that alone was scandalous, but he then went on to regale his fellow drinking partners, how he would have his cousin’s wife up against the wall of the Kitchen, supporting her thick thighs with both of his arms while pounding her honey-pot despite her weight.
The distraught Sharon declared her innocence, the matter died when Clifford left the village when the truth of his return was revealed.

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But it came to pass, that Sharon’s husband lay ill in the Community Hospital and being in the last month of her contract in the Jega’s household, there was no way she would be able to raise the funds needed. Her pervert employer was her only hope, she had no reason to be worried, and he was kind-hearted man who didn’t attend his level in life by a stroke of luck, if only he would just stop stroking his Male Organ in her presence.
Prof. Jega listened attentively, perhaps understanding the solemnity of the occasion, he restrained himself from wanking in her presence even as she sat on the chair opposite to his in the parlor, with her large kneecaps showing in his direction.
After she was done talking, he wrote her a cheque, then a thought crossed his mind, it was to be a joke, her response would be in the negative anyways.

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