Lagos 1

Hi, Lars here again. As I mentioned in my first biographic story I was brought up in Nigeria until I reached secondary school age. I also mentioned that I was working for the family business in Norway.

It just so happened that the local man employed to run the Lagos operation made a complete mess of things and as I had experience of the culture and language my uncle suggested that I should go out there for 1.5 to 2 years to sort things out before handing over to a suitably trained Nigerian. As encouragement I would get a generous overseas allowance and medical insurance (which of course I didn't need in Norway).

So it was that I found myself house hunting within commuting distance to the docks at Lagos. I decided to go for somewhere quite modest, particularly compared with most ex-pats, and save my money somewhere the Norwegian tax authorities wouldn't find it, i.e. Panama.

I soon found a house in a middle class area and as luck would have it most of the furniture it came with was acceptable. To live comfortably, like my neighbours, I needed to add an "imo iso", a housemaid. I knew that there was a lot of abuse of the system by agents, maids and even people traffickers so rather than going through the normal channels I contacted an old friend of my father's. He knew of a family that were looking to place their eldest daughter in domestic service. Luckily they spoke Yoruba and English, the two Nigerian languages that I spoke. Very unconventionally I arranged to visit the family to interview them and the girl and then if appropriate agree terms.

It turned out that my Yoruba was a bit poor after so long, and a bit childish, but we got by with a mixture of languages. I made it clear that I had heard about the scammers that cruelly abused the system and that we would come to a better arrangement. I wanted to make sure that the young lady was able and willing to go into domestic service and that the parents were also rewarded, as is the custom. Normally the arrangement is that the maid will get paid a certain amount and out of that they send money back home to support the family. One scam is that the maid then gets charged so much for board and lodging that they are unable to send any money back and may even fall into debt.

I discussed with the parents what they wanted of me. Mainly they wanted their daughter to finish her education. As is often the case in Nigeria they had to withdraw her from school due to not being able to afford it. I also wanted to check her age as it is common to hire girls out any time after puberty. It turns out that I had just missed her 19th birthday, so that was fine. I also checked that they had no qualms about her being employed by a single man. Once I was satisfied with the parents (I insisted on speaking with both of them) I interviewed the girl. Her name was Abimbola. At first I thought I was being shown a boy. In her slightly baggy clothes there was no visible indication of breasts or hips but when she looked up she was a delight to the eyes, with a beautiful feminine face and elegant neck.

After establishing that Abimbola did indeed want to enter service and spoke passable English I double checked her age. I decided to employ her and set out to her parents what I proposed. I would pay a small allowance to them to help support their family. Instead of paying anything more than pocket money to Abimbola I would provide free board, lodging and clothing and find a suitable school and pay for her to attend. By Nigerian standards this was far more than necessary but being used to Norwegian salaries it wasn't much at all.

Abimbola had virtually no possessions to take with her and we travelled back to Lagos together. She seemed well aware of how service worked, having spoken with several women that had done the same in their youth.

When we arrived home I quickly showed Abimbola around and told her that I would give her a proper tour of my home in the morning when she was more rested.

My house was clearly for showing off in, the reception rooms were large and sumptuous and the kitchen was to commercial standard but the sleeping arrangements were much more ordinary. There was a master bedroom, which was spacious enough and had its own bathroom. Off the bathroom was another small bedroom, which at some point might have been a dressing room and was now decorated as a nursery. In it was a small cupboard and a single bed. I decided to make that the maid's room. It meant that the only way into Abimbola's room would be through my bedroom and the bathroom. There were no locks on the doors within the master suite, or indeed any internal doors except the downstairs WC and shower, that guests might use.

The first nights felt a bit strained, particularly for Abimbola as she was in a strange house with strange sleeping arrangements and with a strange man. I was a proper gentleman. I didn't change in front of her and avoided being seen looking at her. Obviously I couldn't help looking when she was distracted. I even wore nightclothes the first few nights to help her settle in.

I had promised to find a school place without any knowledge of the local schools. Fortunately I found a girls school nearby. They had a nice uniform too, something you don't see in Norway. The skirts were a bit long for my taste but many girls seemed to push the rules. I contacted the school and explained the situation. It was one they had encountered before and they even had an adult student entry program, which we had missed for that year, however they agreed to give Abimbola a day of tests and induction to decide whether they could take her and in which grade.

She had obviously been a good pupil because they were happy to take her and in a high grade. I took Abimbola to the recommended shop and bought a couple of (very expensive) uniforms. She really looked good in her school uniform and seemed very pleased to show it off. What I didn't buy her was a maid's outfit. I decided that the uniform would be her normal day wear. She could do her domestic work in it too, minus the blazer and tie. I also bought a number of products that females require, as I would clearly need to provide for her. I got some odd looks, as African men don't buy that sort of thing, whereas in Norway they are just items on the shopping list.

I didn't normally require much of a maid, so there was time for Abimbola to attend school and get her homework done. I explained that I could also help with homework in most subjects.

I treated Abimbola fairly, even generously, as any Scandinavian employer would and certainly not as she expected. Consequently she confided in me in a way that made us close friends as well as employer/employee. I also got to admire her working around the house in her school uniform. Boy did she look good. I particularly liked the rear end view when she was bending over.

My work was keeping me very busy during the day and into early evening but fortunately it didn't impinge significantly on my home time. Abimbola attended a girls school, staffed only by women. The only people of the opposite sex that we encountered regularly were each other. Back home Abimbola had been closely shepherded and chaperoned so had no experience of men other than her father, who wasn't particularly interested in his two daughters, only the sons. As you can imagine, I was soon fantasising about her and she told me she was getting strange feelings that she couldn't really explain when I was sitting with her helping with homework. She was also getting odd dreams in which I featured.

This went on for a while until I said that we needed to find out about these strange feelings of hers. Maybe we could try out a few things to see whether we could make them better.

I gradually introduced her to the power of touch. I put an arm around her. I rested a hand on her lap. I suggested she did the same.

Over several homework sessions we got more touchy feely. Then one Saturday morning Abimbola accidentally came across something hard sticking up from my lap. I ran my hand up her thigh to the corresponding position and felt down between her legs. She was relaxed enough with me to let her thighs part a little to give me access. I gently massaged her through her underwear and in no time she was shuddering with an orgasm, maybe her first ever. I continued, slipping a finger into her school knickers and sliding it between her lips, to be rewarded with the wettest, slipperiest labia I could remember. Two more orgasms followed before she gently moved my hand away.

For my part, her fumbling on and around my hardness was pleasant and certainly made me even harder but it wasn't enough to get me spurting. I kissed her gently on the cheek and held her to me while she recovered from her first intimate contact with a man. When she had rested and recovered a bit I asked her how it felt and whether she minded me touching her like that. She said that she didn't understand why, but it felt wonderful, that she felt more relaxed and happy than she ever had since she became an adult and no, she certainly didn't mind and hoped I would do it again soon. I gave her a squeeze and said I would not only do that but also teach her new and exciting things. I also made a mental note to add the Pill to our shopping list. I don't normally get quite such quick and multiple effects on women and put it down the the long unrequited and not understood passion that was behind those dreams and odd feelings that worried Abimbola so much.

We went back to finishing the homework while I surreptitiously breathed in between the fingers of my recently busy hand. I wish I could market that perfume!

After homework Abimbola continued with the household chores and made my dinner. Unlike many Nigerian households I had said all along that Abimbola should eat the same as me, rather than the very poor fare the household servants are often expected to eat. This time I said that she could sit at the table with me. We chatted about how she saw her future and what she might want to learn from me that wasn't in the school curriculum. Top of the list she wanted to learn to be a good wife who could keep her husband faithful to her. That was a good idea, given what I had heard about the typical Nigerian husband. I offered to teach her all I knew and said that she would sometimes need to join me in my bed so that she could gain the necessary knowledge and experience.

That night we shared the master bed for the first time and I started her extracurricular education. I have never been one for domination in a relationship. For me it is always about equals, but sometimes the knowledge and skills of one person are so much more than the other that they naturally take the lead. In this case I was clearly the teacher and Abimbola the student. She joined me in her night dress, with underwear. That was a first for me. Even my partners who wore night clothes didn't wear underwear.

I taught her how to kiss and cuddle and how it felt to let my hands caress her body. She then tried to do the same with me. Then I started to stroke her thighs with each stroke gradually working it's way further up her legs, until I was brushing against her panties. I continued like that, kissing and caressing until I could feel the dampness of her vulva through the fabric. My first wish was to savour the flavour but thought that might be too much of a shock for her. Instead I started to slide off her panties and continue by hand. When she was really writhing and thrusting I decided that she would be too engrossed to object to my tongue, and shifted position to start her first oral session.

It was a great success as it didn't take much sucking and licking before the room was filled with the sound of prolonged ecstasy, not that I heard much of it as her thighs clenched my ears! The taste was fantastic. I had probed her vagina as much as my tongue was able, which wasn't very far on this occasion. I clambered up to be face to face with her and gave her a big kiss as she recovered. My penis resting against her opening. Before entering I let her get used to my member by running it up and down between her soaking wet lips, even though I had diligently licked them dry moments before.

I then started to enter her. She was very relaxed and turned on but still tight. I couldn't decide whether to continue slowly or thrust right in. I decided on the slow option, not just for her benefit but also I suspected that as I was so aroused a big thrust at this point might push me over the edge. As I applied pressure I checked that she was ok with it and "ok" was an understatement. She was desperate to make love properly.

A bit more pressure and I broke through. The feeling was heavenly. I stopped like that for a moment for us both to recover from our different experiences, then I started to thrust, getting deeper with each thrust until the base of my penis was rubbing her clitoris. With two sets of stimulation Abimbola was again writhing with an orgasm. This was tipping me over the edge. I thrust deep and hard just twice more and I too was having the most wonderful orgasm. The first for several months, not counting "self help".

We slept tight up together, thanks to the passion and the air conditioning. Next morning I was fully recovered and woke with my normal erection whilst spooning Abimbola. Well, you can imagine! An erection, a beautiful young woman in my arms, what was I to do? I started to gently thrust between her lips whilst reaching round and massaging her clitoris. Soon she was joining in and getting wet. I shifted position slightly and slid into her recently virgin vagina. It was just as good as before.

I rested in there for a while as I caressed her, then started to thrust again. This time I kept going longer, thrusting and massaging until we both erupted again. Luckily being a Sunday we could have a lie in, which we took full advantage of. We got up at lunch time and it was only then that I saw the large stain on the bottom sheet. That dispelled any doubt I might have had. I was even tempted for a while to keep the sheet as a souvenir of the occasion.

Returning to education mode I told Abimbola that once a girl starts having vaginal discharges in puberty she shouldn't really wear underwear at night, other than when wearing a menstrual pad, as it gives the nether regions a chance to self cleanse and to breathe. Also, of course, it encourages marital intimacy once she is a married woman. She took the message to heart and said that she would stop at once.

We both showered, separately, to wash off the night's secretions and reverted to our normal routine but did find time to discuss what had happened the night before. I explained that for her first time I wanted to concentrate on her and her pleasure but I would gradually introduce more emphasis on pleasure for me, so that she could learn how to keep her future husband. She was happy about that and keen to resume lessons.

I came up with an outline plan for Abimbola's training and education but wanted to leave the detail to whatever seemed appropriate at the time. I included personal care and hygiene in my plan for her own benefit rather than her future husband's.

We experimented with various positions and locations. There were only two of us in the house so there was no need to confine ourselves to the bedroom. As she had stopped wearing underwear indoors we could have unhindered sex whenever we felt like it. I too started to go without underwear while at home.

Abimbola learnt how to flirt and be sexy for her man. She certainly looked forward to our extra curricular lessons.

After my time with Arne in Oslo I missed the sensations of anal intercourse and decided to include that in my training regime. It was perfectly possible that Abimbola's future husband would be into that too, so I needed to prepare her for it and teach her how to prepare herself for it in the likely event that her husband was not into such niceties. I explained to her about anal sex and how some men loved it. I also told her how that area is not self cleaning and self lubricating as the vagina is. She agreed, rather reluctantly, to include anal sex in our regime and that evening I set about looking for household items that could be adapted for the purpose.

There were icing and basting syringes that I decided would be suitable for her to clean herself out and introduce lubricant with. For the lube itself I found cooking oil and moisturisers. The next evening after Abimbola had finished her homework we started on our new extra curricula activity. By way of training I did all the preparation work myself, explaining how and why I was doing each stage. We started in the bathroom with the syringes. I experimented a little and found the basting syringe better for cleaning her out. She would lean over the wash basin as I inserted each load and then sit on the toilet to empty it out. I had never performed an enema before and I was soon getting aroused.

Then she lay on her back on the edge of the bed, so that no spills entered the sensitive vagina. I started to massage and lubricate her anus with one hand while also stimulating her clitoris and labia with the other. As I massaged with some olive oil I gradually inserted a finger, and then two before applying some moisturiser directly into the opening. I used moisturiser in a tube and there was no need for a syringe. I noted that in future I could dispense with the oil and use moisturiser for both. I spread the moisturiser around with my fingers and took extra care along the front edge, where I could massage her vagina from the outside. She seemed to like that.

At first Abimbola was quite tense but there was a noticeable change as I massaged and gradually opened her up. We were both naked at this point and once she was fully lubricated I wasted no time by pressing firmly with my hard and oozing penis. It just took a little pressure and I was abruptly deep inside her. She didn't flinch, so I started to thrust. Gently at first and then varying hard and gentle movements to keep myself aroused but not too much so. I kept this up for what seemed like ages, gazing down on her lovely body. She felt quite different to Arne. I don't know whether it was because she is a woman or it was just individual variation. I could see that Abimbola was enjoying the experience.

I was getting close to my orgasm but wanted a change, so I got her to turn over and put her feet well spread on the floor. Spreading her feet helped separate her buttocks, enabling me deeper access. I now hammered away from behind while doing my best to rub her clitoris. Luckily she took over that job and I could concentrate on myself. I looked down and admired the sight of my white penis pounding in and out of her black anus as the pressure in me got too much and I emptied myself into her. What bliss. My eruption triggered something in her and she also climaxed, the rhythmic pulsing of her sphincter helped to milk me dry. Considering how long it was since I last had anal sex I was surprised that I managed to keep going for so long. This was definitely a subject that would need lots of revision and exploring of the alternatives.

I was surprised to discover that sex toys are available in Nigeria. Many other African countries ban them. I decided to teach Abimbola about using them for her own satisfaction. I explained that not all men are as keen to satisfy their wives so she might need to satisfy her urges herself while her husband is out. Of course she can imitate the actions that I carry out on her and she could fanaticise if she wanted, but there are devices that help bring satisfaction. I bought a couple of not too obvious toys and explained how they worked. She had already discovered her clitoris but needed to have the G spot (or "G zone" as I think of it) explained. While she was learning to masturbate I would watch and guide her, and get very hard. When she was satiated and dripping wet I would satisfy myself with her, front or back.