How I mistakenly used my pepperish hand to finger my wife

I am finished.

I am completely finished.

I was in my room sleeping when I heard my wife and her friend talking about fingerlings.

I was surprised.

I thought my wife was planning to buy small fishes known as fingerlings.

I immediately opened my eyes and went to listen clearly.

As I approached closer, I heard her friend say to her.

“So your husband will use finger and be fingering you.”

My mouth opened.

My eyes closed.

I paid close attention to the conversation until I understood what the fingering was all about. It was not about small fishes. My wife’s friend was coaching my wife on the benefit of fingering. She was telling my wife that she should encourage me to be fingering her, and also teach me the styles of fingering too.

My wife laughed.

She told her friend that I do not like fingering.

My wife’s friend became shocked. She told my wife that her husband always cooks for her and after cooking, he will be fingering.

“…In the car, in the toilet, in the bathroom. Anywhere we are. Once my husband curves his hands like Neiman with leprosy, I already know he is ready for fingering.”

My wife laughed and shouted.

“Amaka the thing sweet me o.”

So this evening I decided to try the fingering thing. But I decided to add a small romance to the whole thing. I bought noodles to cook for my wife so that after eating noodles we can begin work.

While she was eating noodles, I raised her gown and started cultivating and farming her land with my fingers.

At first, my wife was enjoying it. She kept smiling and moaning. She was calling me a champion of Africa.

She said I had fingers of Tigers.

She said she loved everything I was doing.

“Praises you have corrupt o. Who spoilt my husband for me? You are too good.” She moaned sweetly.

Then she stopped eating the indomie and started looking at me like I was a stranger.

It was like she had seen a ghost.

I also stopped sweeping her land and started looking at her too.

I noticed everything stopped sweeting her.

She was now awake than ever.

“Praises.”

“Yes?”

“Praises.”

“Yes.”

“Did you pound pepper?”

“Pepper? No o.”

“So why am I feeling hellfire inside of me? Why is the inside hot?”

“Hellfire? Hot?”

I immediately stepped down from the bed before my wife slaps me.

I remembered I had used a knife to cut the pepper with my hands instead of pounding it and after everything I didn’t wash my hands.

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I was still looking at my wife when she jumped down from the bed and started shouting. She ran to the bathroom and began pouring water everywhere.

“Praises have killed me o. Bring me ice. Fire o. Bring me chilled water. Praises o. Fire. Fire. Pepper o. Bring me cold water.”

She started sucking her lips like one who had eaten suya with plenty of tar-tashe.

“Baby sorry na. I forgot.”

“Forget kill you there. Praises I say forget will kill you there. Today that you tried to be romantic small, you carry pepper full my nyansh. Ahhh! Amaka you caused this o. I told you my husband does not know anything. My husband does not know anything. Fire! Fire!”

I have currently hidden all the knives and sharp objects in the house. The lord is my power.

Please Pray for me!

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