It’s Christmas Eve and the mood in the church is one intense boundless jubilation.
The praise band is kicking it on stage, strutting their A-game, and the congregation is with them, mind, body and soul, singing and dancing to the impressive rendering of Christian songs.
SISTER ESTHER, 40s, is high up the auditorium, behind the crowd, dancing by herself. Her matured curves – heavy breasts, wide hips, large buttocks, and thick shapely thighs – stretch her conservative ankara dress to near breaking point.
A couple of hours later, service ends, and the noisy congregation – still excited from Pastor’s uplifting message – pour out.
Families, friends greet each other and exchange early Merry Christmases.
Sister Esther hugs a few friends. She spots SISTER ABIGAIL, 40s, with her three children, and ambles to her.
Sister Abigail is wearing an ankara kaftan, and much like Sister Esther, those big mummy buttocks and breasts stubbornly make their presence known.
‘Babe, na wa for you o,’ Sister Esther comments.
Sister Abigail chuckles and waves away Sister Esther’s complaint.
Sister Esther turns her attention to the children.
‘You people are looking fine today. Won’t you remain some for me?’
The children laugh and embrace her. She’s their favourite aunt.
Sister Abigail sees her husband conversing with an elderly church member, and sends her children off to meet him.
Afterwards, she and Sister Esther retreat away from most of the crowd.
‘Didn’t you get my messages?’ Sister Esther says.
‘You mean the hundred-plus messages you kept sending all night?’ Sister Abigail raises her brow.
‘I was too busy cooking. I didn’t have time to respond.’
‘So… Did he send another one?’ Sister Esther sounds eager.
Sister Abigail’s lips curl into a mischievous smile. She brings out her phone, navigates to the picture gallery, and selects a thumbnail.
The picture of a sweaty solid, six-pack-torso fills the screen.
‘He sent this one yesterday when he was at the gym,’ Sister Abigail explains.
Sister Esther savours and digests the yummy picture like it’s a juicy piece of meat. A tinge of desire blossoms in her eyes. She imagines herself raking her fingers along the muscled ridges on the torso.
‘Is that the only one he sent?’ Sister Esther wonders aloud.
‘You sef. You no dey tire?’
‘You’re doing shakara for me, shey?’
Sister Esther pinches Sister Abigail’s arm. Sister Abigail responds with a carefree giggle. She swipes her finger across her phone screen.
Sister Esther’s eyes bulge out. Her jaw drops.
In the picture on the phone, a hand clutches a fat, long dick, ever so slightly curved. Beautifully sculptured.
‘Abigail!’ Sister Esther says with a small squeal.
‘Ah-han, why are you shouting?’ Sister Abigail stows away her phone, laughing.
‘What kind of question is that? You didn’t see what I saw?’ Sister Esther says.
‘I saw it nau. I’ve been seeing it since he sent it yesterday.’
‘Bring your phone out, let me see it again.’
‘Better look at it well. I’m deleting all the pics very soon.’
Sister Abigail shows Sister Esther her phone.
Sister Esther stares at the picture keenly, capturing each and every pixel to memory. She’s never seen anything quite like it. So mesmerising. Her mouth literally waters.
She’s heard very interesting stories about big dicks from her single colleagues at work – stories that have served to fuel her curiosity, but this is definitely the highlight of her experience.
As a protocol officer in church, Sister Esther should not be indulging in such aberrant behaviour. Sister Abigail too – she is, after all, a respected cell leader.
But this is what happens when your husband neglects his bedroom duties, choosing instead to focus more on church activities in the name of church politics. It leaves a woman open to all sorts of temptations. And there are plenty temptations in this church. They come in the form of young boys with chiselled bodies and big cocks.
Even when you’re minding your own business, these boys slither into your heart unexpectedly. They’re respectful, kind, and generous. They never fail to tell you how young and sexy and smart you are – basically all the things your husband isn’t doing. They put you heads above the seemingly prettier single girls, always seeking your counsel and company, and soon you begin to fantasise about them.
Before long, they’re sucking your pussy at the back of an abandoned danfo (Mrs Enitan and James, the cutest singer in the choir), or fucking you at a church concert (Sister Tola and Tuve, a burly boy working with the multimedia team). And no one ever finds out. It’s done discretely.
They call it the second marriage club. These young virile boys become unofficial husbands to these married women. The women provide the boys with money, on the rare occasion that there’s need for it, and the boys provide the women with hot, fevered sex.
Sometimes, the boys swap wives.
Rumour has it they’ll soon venture into orgy sessions.
Sister Abigail has recently become the “wife” to Joe, a handsome guitarist in the choir, after a six month period of intense flirting. They haven’t been intimate yet, but Joe has been preparing her for the inevitable by sending all those sexy pictures.
But where does Sister Esther fit into all of this? Well…
‘So, you’re sure you guys are definitely doing it tonight,’ Sister Esther says.
‘Yes nau.’ Sister Abigail puts her phone aside. She studies Sister Esther’s pensive expression. ‘Are you having second thoughts?’
‘No. Why should I?’
‘Because the last time I told you Joe and I were going to do it, you said you would come and you didn’t.’
‘I apologised for that.’
‘I had to cancel the whole thing with Joe because of your actions, and he wasn’t happy at all.’
‘I said I’m sorry nau. It was my husband. I had so much to do for him that day.’
‘I’m not angry. I’m just telling you so you’ll ensure that there are no interruptions this time around. You know you’re not supposed to know about the second marriage club. I’m breaking the rules for you, and that’s because you’re my friend and I want you to enjoy small. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll get your own club husband.’
They chuckle like naughty teenage school girls.
Sister Abigail’s husband – JERRY, 50s – approaches them with the children.
‘Good afternoon, sir.’ Sister Esther curtsies.
‘Good afternoon, Esther. How’s Emmanuel?’ Jerry says.
Emmanuel – Sister Esther’s husband.
‘He’s very fine, sir.’
‘And the children?’
‘Oh, they’re wonderful.’
The three adults go on the discuss Pastor’s message and how they should apply in their lives as good Christian brothers and sisters, while the children argue among themselves about cartoons and video games.
By mid-afternoon, Sister Abigail’s SUV arrives at Joe’s compound. The gate is padlocked.
Sister Esther disembarks from the SUV, unlocks the padlock, and opens the gate.
Sister Abigail drives her SUV in and parks by the massive water tank that serves all three apartments in the compound. She steps out of the SUV.
Sister Esther locks the gate.
‘That lie you told your husband, ehn, in fact…’ Sister Abigail begins.
The women laugh.
‘Yes, nau. Aren’t we in the planning committee for the church Christmas party again?’ Sister Esther says.
‘Na you sabi.’
‘When did Joe say he’s coming back?’
‘Ok. His parents aren’t around?’
‘They travelled to the village.’
Sister Esther stares at the windows of the apartments. They’re all shut.
‘It’s like his neighbours travelled too.’
‘I hope so.’
Both women proceed into the house.
Sister Esther is in her panties and bra. Her bra struggles against the weight of her big breasts, and most of her panties hide between her fat buttocks.
She paces about, and her butt cheeks bounce seductively.
Joe is back. He has been for the past 30 minutes.
Sister Esther perches on the bed. She’s wound tighter than a water bottle cap.
She checks her Whatsapp app – no new messages from Sister Abigail.
Sighing, she wonders what her next move should be. Should she leave for master bedroom, where Sister Abigail and Joe are at, or should she continue to wait until, well, she gets some sort of signal?
As soon as the thought crosses her mind, she hears a loud moan. She gets up and presses her ear on the door. It’s Sister Abigail. She’s begging Joe not to stop fucking her, calling him names like ‘husband’, ‘my daddy’ and ‘my baby boy’.
A rush of excitement prompts Sister Esther’s pussy to flood her panties. She’s nervous as hell, and who can blame her? She’s never ventured outside her marriage before. But she’s also extremely horny. She’s not had a dick in many, many months, and she can’t wait to get stuffed.
Sister Abigail’s voice: ‘Oh, god! Oh, baby! Yes!’
Sister Esther has had enough of tarrying on the sidelines. She opens the door and leaves the room.
The door to the master bedroom is ajar. Sister Esther pushes it further open.
The sight before her sends her heart galloping. Her breath catches in her throat.
Sister Abigail’s face is buried in a pillow. Her knees are spread, her back arched.
Joe, clutching the back-strap of her bra, pounds her buttocks, punishing her for a crime only he is aware of.
But who’s complaining? Certainly not Sister Abigail. She grabs hold of the headboard, flicking her ass for Joe’s benefit.
‘Look at your nyash! Chai!’ Joe groans, watching her buttocks bounce from his firm back-shots. It gladdens his heart, stokes the fire in his loins.
Sister Abigail’s thighs begin to judder. She wails.
Joe pulls out.
Her pussy ejects a handful of cum on the bed. She falls prone, spent.
‘See how you’ve destroyed my bed with your squirt,’ Joe comments. He rubs his dick on her buttocks. It looks so much bigger than the pictures make it out to be.
Sister Esther gasps on seeing it.
Joe turns, shocked. Sister Abigail too.
‘Aunty Esther!’ He jumps off Sister Abigail and grabs a wrapper to cover himself. ‘What — how did you enter my house?!’
Sister Abigail glares at Sister Esther. This woman is going to ruin everything for her.
‘Esther, what are you doing? I told you to wait,’ she says.
‘You told her to wait?!’ Joe turns to Sister Abigail.
‘I’ve been waiting since,’ Sister Esther complains.
‘So? I said you should wait!’ Sister Abigail snaps.
Sister Esther feels bad about interrupting them. She lowers her gaze to the floor.
‘Sorry,’ she says.
‘You knew she was here?’ Joe asks Sister Abigail.
Sister Esther hurries out of the room before more attacks are lobed at her.
Sister Abigail pulls the wrapper off Joe’s body. She grabs his semi-erect big dick.
‘Baby, don’t worry, I’ll explain everything later. Let’s continue fucking,’ she pleads.
Joe frowns. He doesn’t want to fuck anymore. He wants answers.
But that feeling only last a while – Sister Abigail sucks his dick back to full mast, and pretty soon all he can think about is burying every inch of his big meat in her tight, matured pussy.
Sister Esther is lying in bed, curled up, asleep, a wrapper draped over her.
The sound of the door opening wakes her up. She looks: Joe stands in the doorway, wearing only boxer shorts.
‘Joe,’ she says.
‘Aunty Esther,’ Joe answers.
Sister Esther checks the time on the wall-clock: 7:30pm. She sits up, tucking her legs under her. The wrapper falls to her lap.
Joe’s eyes settle on her big breasts. They flash with a primal hunger. He joins her in bed, settling next to her.
‘Aunty, but you people should have told me about your plans,’ Joe says.
‘It was Abigail. She said I’m not supposed to know. That she couldn’t just tell you,’ Sister Esther says.
‘True. We have strict rules to guard against exposure.’
‘I won’t tell anyone. I promise.’
‘It’s OK. I’ll have to hook you up with someone that can be your own husband.’ Joe raises his hand and runs his finger along the surface of her breasts. ‘Someone that will service your pussy well.’
Sister Esther’s hard, fat nipple strain against the fabric of her bra. Joe teases them. Her breathing gets a bit laboured.
‘But can’t you be my husband?’ she asks.
‘Ah. That one will be wahala. Already, Aunty Abigail is not happy I’m here,’ Joe responds.
‘Imagine. Wasn’t she the one who invited me?’ Sister Esther kisses her teeth, annoyed.
‘Yes, but you know how you women are when it comes to sharing dick. The last thing we want is a wife exposing another wife out of jealousy.’
Joe lays a soft kiss on her left breast. His hand descends down her stomach, to the warmth between her thighs.
Sister Esther braces her palms on the bed, behind her, pushing out her breasts.
As Joe rubs her panties, her pussy soaks it up.
‘At least, I can sha be your concubine today,’ Sister Esther says.
‘Of course. Why not?’ Joe kisses her breast. Bites the flesh lightly.
Sister Esther dips her hand into his boxer shorts and retrieves his fat dick. It feels amazing in her hand. Warm. Throbbing, like there’s electricity buzzing inside it.
She massages it reverently.
‘Have you ever had a big dick before?’ Joe says.
She shakes her head.
‘So your husband’s dick is not like my own.’
‘Don’t worry. I’m going to take very good care of your pussy this night,’ he promises.
‘Better than you took care of Abigail’s own?’
‘Yes, but don’t tell her.’
Joe lips press on the crook her neck. She smiles. He sucks her earlobe, then goes back to kissing her neck.
His hand leaves her pussy and covers her right breast, squeezing hard. He pushes his face into her bountiful cleavage, nibbling both breasts.
Sister Esther’s smile turns into a grimace as an ever mounting desire takes over her body.
Joe eases her bra-straps down her arms, exposing her big breasts. As soon as his warm mouth swathes her peaked nipple, she hisses. Joe moans, sucking on her nipples one after the other, kneading her breasts.
Sister Esther caresses his head.
He stops sucking, allows his expert hands to handle her breasts for a while, and then his lips resume their attack.
‘Remove your pant,’ Joe commands gruffly.
Sister Esther hurriedly drags her panties down her ass, her thighs, and kicks them off her ankles.
Joe meshes his lips with hers. They drink from each other’s mouths, a sweet intoxicating nectar.
Lips still locked, Sister Esther reclines.
Joe’s mighty rock-solid shaft lands on her pussy lips, and she lets out a small, frustrated moan, pushing her pelvis against him.
He grabs hold of his dick, rubs its head on her burning wet pussy, and then slides in.
His journey to her depths is slow, and not for lack of trying. She’s tight.
Sister Esther breaks their kiss so she can cry out in pleasure. Yes, this is a real dick!
‘Fuck, my god!’ Joe moans. He braces an arm on the bed and grips the headboard with his other hand.
His waist propel his crotch back-and-forth.
Sister Esther writhes beneath Joe. The extreme wetness of her pussy does little to reduce the spine-numbing friction produced by his dick squeezing through the constricted walls of her pussy.
Joe raises one of her legs by the crook of her knee. She grabs the ankle of that leg. He shifts to a higher gear, pounding her pussy harder.
‘Say my name!’ Joe demands.
‘Joe!’ Sister Esther can barely speak.
‘That’s not my name! Say my name!!’
Sister Abigail walks into the room, a wrapper around her matured frame. She shuts the door and watches Joe hump the shit out of Sister Esther’s pussy.
She’s jealous. After enduring the wrath of his dick for 3 rounds, she wants more. He should be with her now, not with Sister Esther. It’s her right as his club wife.
But despite all that, she’s not greedy. In fact, she’s in a positively sharing mood.
Sister Abigail unfastens the knot of her wrapper, under her armpit. The wrapper crumbles to her feet. She’s completely naked.
She climbs the bed and touches Joe’s back.
Surprised, Joe stops fucking Sister Esther and stares questioningly at Sister Abigail.
Sister Esther, still holding up her leg and panting, gazes at Sister Abigail. What’s her problem now?
Sister Abigail kisses Joe slowly. He reciprocates by squeezing her breasts.
Just when Sister Esther begins to feel left out, Joe rocks his waist softly. She moans, lets go of her leg, and caresses his surfboard torso with both hands.
Joe steps up his tempo.
Sister Esther moves her hand to Sister Abigail’s thick thigh, rubbing dangerously close to her crotch. It’s not a deliberate action, but that doesn’t matter, because Sister Abigail lowers herself and takes Sister Esther’s bouncing breast into her mouth.
This is bordering on lesbianism, but Sister Esther doesn’t care. Her breast needs the attention of a set warm lips. Sister Abigail’s will most certainly do.
‘Fuck, yes!’ Joe grunts. He slaps Sister Abigail’s buttocks, causing them to quake.
Sister Abigail squeezes Sister Esther’s other breast.
Having Sister Abigail devour her breasts and Joe pummel her pussy is too eroticism for Sister Esther’s mind to handle. She wails, climaxing, her pussy spilling cum like a broken high pressured pipe.
‘Oya, climb,’ Joe orders Sister Abigail, slapping her ass.
Sister Abigail straddles Sister Esther, ass tilted up. Joe pushes is dick into her pussy. She welcomes his invasion with a high-pitched moan.
Her big breasts rub against Sister Esther’s equally massive tits as Joe, gripping her waist, fucks her hard.
Sister Esther is turned on from watching Sister Abigail moan over her, her face inches away. They communicate through eye contact, and Sister Abigail brings her lips down to Sister Esther’s.
Joe removes his dick from Sister Abigail’s pussy and shoves it into Sister Esther’s.
Sister Esther squeezes Sister Abigail’s ass, while Sister Abigail peppers fevered kisses on Sister Esther’s neck.
Joe spends the next couple of minutes fucking Sister Esther. Then he switches back to Sister Abigail.
He goes on like this until he’s ready to cum. Now, he’s in a dilemma. He can only cum in one pussy, but which one?
Sister Abigail essentially makes the decision for him by dragging herself up against Sister Esther so she can feed her breasts to her friend.
Joe holds Sister Esther’s thighs tighter. His tempo reaches critical speed.
‘Oooooh, shit!’ His ass clenches. His thighs go into spasms. His dick explodes!
He pulls out just in time to bathe Sister Abigail’s ass in his cum. Why should Sister Esther get all the fun?
‘Oh, yes. Wow!’ Joe says.
Sister Abigail rolls off Sister Esther. Joe falls between them. All three pant.
‘My beautiful wives,’ Joe mentions.
Sisters Esther and Abigail chuckle at the proclamation. They don’t argue. They quite like it.
‘This is the best Christmas present I’ve ever had. Thank you both.’ Joe grants each woman a french kiss. They snuggle up to him, taking turns to caress his chest, his stomach and his flacid dick. ‘Let me rest and regain my strength. Christmas day is in a few hours, and I’m still hungry for some Christmas fucking.’
‘Abi o,’ Sister Esther says.
Sister Abigail laughs.
It’s going to be a long, sweaty night.