Erotic Monday Night with Tiwa Says

Erotic Monday Night: Exploring new pleasures, by Tiwa Says

by · The Eagle Online

Weekends have become my favourite part of the week because of Dayo. The slow mornings, the easy conversations, the way we fit together like puzzle pieces.

I turned to face him, and he looked back at me, his eyes watching me with that soft smile that makes my stomach flutter. We’ve been careful not to label this thing between us, not to rush into declarations we might not be ready for. But there was definitely something here, something real that’s growing stronger with each passing day.

“You’re thinking too loud,” he murmurs, pulling me closer. I laugh, pressing my face into his chest. “Just enjoying the view.”

His hand traced lazy patterns on my hip as we laid there, the morning quiet settling around us like a blanket. Yesterday evening, after a bottle of wine and too much laughter, we’d talked about fantasies. He’d been hesitant at first, but I encouraged him to open up.

“I want to try something,” he’d said, his voice barely above a whisper. “With you. Anal play.”

I hadn’t been surprised, not really. The few times I’d let my fingers wander down his back, brushing against that tight ring of muscle during our kissing sessions, his whole body had responded—a sharp intake of breath, his hips pressing forward, his cock growing harder against my thigh. He’d never said anything, but his body spoke volumes.

Now, in the morning light, it was time to do some exploring. I shifted my position, sliding my thigh between his legs. He’s was already half-hard, the familiar tent in his boxers making me smile. My hand moved down his stomach, fingers dancing along the waistband of his underwear.

“Let’s have some fun,” I whispered. He replied by kissing me, deep and hungry. His tongue slid against mine as I pressed my body against his, feeling the heat build between us. My hand slipped beneath the elastic of his boxers, wrapping around his length. He was already slick at the tip.

I broke the kiss, trailed my lips down his jaw, his neck, his chest. My fingers left his cock to trace the line of hair leading down his stomach, and I felt his muscles tense in anticipation. When I reached the waistband of his boxers, I pulled them down, freeing him completely.

But I didn’t go for his cock. Instead, my hand slid lower, cupping his balls before moving further back. His legs parted slightly, an invitation. I pressed my fingertip against his entrance, circling slowly, and I felt him shudder.

I reached for the bottle of lube on the nightstand—leftover from our conversation last night, as if he’d been hoping we’d pick up where we left off. I coated my fingers generously, then returned to that tight ring of muscle. Slow circles, gentle pressure, until I felt him relax into it.

My middle finger pressed forward, just the tip breaching that first ring of resistance. His breath catches, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Relax,” I whispered softly. He exhaled, and I pushed deeper, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. But all I saw was pleasure—his lips parted, his brow furrowed in concentration, his cock twitching against his stomach.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped. I slid my finger all the way in, feeling the heat around me, the way his body clenched and released. I curled my finger slightly, searching, and when I find that spot—that little bundle of nerves—his whole body jerked, a moan escaped his throat.

“There,” I whispered, repeating the motion. “Right there.” His hips started to move, fucking himself onto my finger, and the sight made me wet. I added a second finger, stretching him gently, and he took it without hesitation.

“I want to taste you,” I said, and he whimpered in response. I lowered my head, taking his cock into my mouth while my fingers continued their work. The taste of him—salt and skin, filled my senses as I sucked him deep. His hands held my hair, not guiding, just holding, as if he needed something to ground himself.

The sounds he made drove me wild. Little gasps, moans, my name falling from his lips like a prayer. I felt his balls tighten, his thighs tense, and I knew he was close. “Not yet,” I murmured, pulling away.

I stripped off my panties already soaked with want. Dayo watched me with heavy-lidded eyes as I positioned myself over him, my knees on either side of his hips. I reached down, guiding his cock to my entrance, and sunk onto him slowly.

The feeling of him inside me—full,—made us both groan. But I didn’t move right away. I leaned forward, my breasts brushing against his chest.

His hands found my hips, guiding me into a rhythm. I rocked against him, slow and deep, savouring every inch. His mouth moved to my neck, my collarbone, and then my breast. He took my nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, and I gasped, my rhythm faltering.

He switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, his tongue circling the sensitive peak before drawing it deep into his mouth. I felt the pull all the way down to my core, and I started to ride him faster and harder.

His hands slid down my back, gripping my ass, spreading my cheeks. One finger found my own entrance, pressing against it teasingly.

“Your turn,” he whispered. I gasped as he pushed inside, his finger sliding into my ass while his cock fucked my cunt. The dual sensation was overwhelming—the fullness, the stretch, the way every nerve felt like it was on fire.

“Don’t stop,” I pleaded, my nails digging into his shoulders. We found a rhythm together, his finger moving in time with his thrusts. His thumb found my clit, circling, pressing, and that was all it took.

I came with a cry, my body clenching around him, and I felt him follow—his hips bucking upward, his groan muffled against my breast. Warmth flooded inside me, and I collapsed against his chest, breathless and trembling.

We laid there for a long moment, our hearts pounding together, his finger was still inside me, softening with the aftershocks. Slowly, he withdrew, and I felt the loss immediately.

I lifted my head to look at him, at the satisfied smile on his face, the love in his eyes that he hasn’t quite put into words yet. “One day at a time,” I whispered. He kisses my forehead. “One day at a time.”

I would love to hear your comments: Telegram: @tiwa_says; WhatsApp: 09161129108; and Email: tiwalolaoke@yahoo.com.

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