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Saturday, 15 July 2017

Dear Daughter 2

In a matter of minutes, we spoke like we have known each other for years, he held nothing back, he broke every communication fences and pragmatically made me comfortable with it.

He declared that he cannot say he is engaged with me yet just because my father said so, "I intend to actually deserve your heart, let us assume your father was just alibi to meeting!" he said as he poured me more wine.

We had the best night that night, it aver that our love was not based built on statistics but strictly on chemistry, we genuinely loved each other and it grew over the years.

This was followed by great times-courtesy of your father.

He was totally in charge but with me in consideration, he was somewhat more advanced than our hay days.

His maturity was displayed in every way, he was all over me, and I felt secured with that.

He gave his hundred percent and never made himself an half bread, he took me everywhere and showed me off, he followed me too to wherever I wanted to.

We absolutely flaunted each other, what we stood for, and our love.

I was always eager to announce he was my fiance because I was among the few that had an intelligentsia as fiance.

His name opened doors and I was already in the grandeur of being called "iyawo doctor".

Your father took his time to study and understand love, he knows when to let things work themselves out and he knows where to actually take charge, I was not given the cause to reevaluate my love at any point.

He was very liberal, he welcomed my opinion, no toxicity, he was the head of state but I was actually in charge of affairs- so to speak.

I weighed our relationship to that of my friends and we were by far ahead, your father was a cultured man but was not bound by what he called the outdated way of doing things.

He was not that cultural egocentric gender discriminating bigot. I was in a relationship where I was sure I was the only woman in my man's life, you do not get that very easy now and even then!

We were compatible, every difference was regarded to as strength, we will discuss just any and everything, it was a flow of healthily competitive display of erudition in any discourse we engage in.

We loved and relished in our company, our love was self sufficient, he was new a skool boo even in the analogue era; that kind of man was the wildest of our dreams as ladies were in the gender bullying time.

He protected me, he protected us, I could recall of him engaging in my fight in my defense at a function we attended, I did not picture a doctor to be that brute for my sake.

He was beaten to pulp by the zero joyed guys, despite his battered and paled face; he stood to inquire if I was fine and unhurt, I was really awed by his compassion.

Everybody since the loud introduction was so focused on our love life, they were expecting a whole lot from us and it will shock you to know how many people are interested to just know!

It was customary that we get married at most one year after but yet again; your father swept me off my feet, he established that it was going to be when I really want to get married, he really allowed that to go my way which was unlike men in that time order.

Virginity in my time was a big deal, I will love to believe you are still one, it was a mandate if that is proper to say, I guess we followed some unwritten cultural laws but we looked beyond that.

I and your father had our first sex exactly nine months after we met, it was breathtaking, he made it a day worth sharing with you.

He made an attempt first barely six months after we began to court but I declined, the reason is your father possessed a penis that spook me.

I was petrified by the sight, I do not have a clear picture of what it should really look like at that time but I was flabbergasted at the size.

It cooled off the urge instantly, averagely long but quite fat, my virgin self was not ready for the quest and he respected my decision, never did he mention it again.

It never changed his attitude nor did he mount any form of pressure, he kept it totally at my digression.

I decided to give "me" to him on the 7th of July 1992.

It was a cold rainy morning, and I woke him up in the wee hours of the morning with cozy morning kisses, "good morning" he said and he kissed me further.

I was without a bra but partly clad in my very soft mini robe, I rested my head on his poorly muscled but comfortable chest.

I  rolled my hand around his nipple and kissed his chest respectively. He adjusted me fully to him and asked what I want as he grabbed my ready-to-go breast.

It tickled me and I smiled in arousal, I felt his hand grab my ass and the same rain through my back, his touches was a result of some medical exposure, it was not hard to tell!

It was giving me chills I cannot explain. He deepened the kiss and ran his hands around me like he was searching for something, I gave a moan that brought out response to the juice that ran out of me.

He rolled me over and placed me on my back, my heart embarked on a frantic race, "it is happening" I thought to myself.

He kissed me while squandering his entire lips on mine,  suckled on my nipple as he massaged somewhere down in my below, with the knowledge that no one is in the entire house, I moaned like hell, loud and very lousy moan I must say!

He picked my legs up in a barrow manner and helped me keep the legs hanging, he leaned in between me and dug his tongue in my vagina-an act that is regarded as normalcy was in my time a taboo (but it is that taboo we actually wanted).

you might have seen women get first class pleasure from this, you can relate to the ecstasy they are in but imagine it been done on a virgin that I was as at the time of the event.

I was madly embroiled in the formidable act of pleasure delivery I was getting from the one I love, even my hands couldn't keep my legs up and they were shaking seriously!

I spoke in tongues I think will be a language somewhere outside this world.

I was lavishing my voice on moans and relishing in the moment when I felt a sharp pain, it was like a bullet ran through me, pure subterfuge!

He got me carried away in the fellatio sensation obviously so I would not panic at the sight of his scary cock.

My world paused, something like a frenzy when my brain confirmed it was his dick, my heart missed beats I cannot count.

He broke through in just one shot, and he made it count!

Tears of blood dropped as usual and that of water dropped down my eyes, your father understood the moment, he cleaned me briefly and refused to be pitiful; he continued the stroking although in a calm manner.

I use to brag to my friends that I will shed no tear when I finally give "me" to any man on the strength that it was my decision but my dear! - it was too good a moment to fight tears; especially if it was the one who you love!

It dropped in speed but the intervention of the rigorous screwing your father made, stopped the tears vehemently.

The vigor reminded me of the pleasure and I went back to my loud and lousy moan - it was worth it, I reveled in the moment and enjoyed the 15mins of the compassionate love making.

I allowed nothing to steal the joy, I watched his eyes light up and he pounded slowly my newly procured vagina.

The rain blew in cool morning breeze and my nipple were ice erect, I wanted more and I was supplied more.

He gave me kisses when needed and made me comfortable with my demon (his penis) - we became good friends because after the first sex, we had five more that day, courtesy my adventurous self!

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