“It won’t fit,” Doyin moaned against his lips. “Yes, it will. You can take it, baby. Just relax and let daddy take care of you.”
a day in the life of a high-functioning depressed nigerian
We all agreed, and the phrase 'service, just like that' was adopted, along with the mental snapping of fingers.
If I could invent a product, it would be a truth serum against Yoruba men. Once you have it on, they can't lie to you. Just kidding, or maybe not.
a day in the life of a high-functioning depressed nigerian
I heard exercise is good for mental health so I’ll stay here until it’s late, then get ready in a hurry. That’s more than enough cardio to start the day, don’t you agree?
A beautiful thing happens when we leave men to cry without judgment.
I think I asked myself that question more than thirty times that night; the second must have been when Papilo stared rubbing my legs.
I remember when I was a child being fascinated by the leaves. They were always changing: […]
Chest hair that would make a woman think dirty thoughts. And he knew it.
"This time when he thrusts inside me, he doesn't stop. He thrusts so hard and fast, making me feel like insides are going to spill out soon. The pain is beautifully sweet..."
"While some paint on their arms, drawing with markers, I draw with a blade. Some marks cover the surface, some go deep. Every time I do, I get closer to my time."