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Story: MR.TEACHER - Episode0ne

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MR.TEACHER
Mr.Teacher - Episode0ne
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Warning:
Restricted Content: 20 Years +
Coarse Language. Nudity. Sex. Violence..

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I was nicknamed Seal-breaker by my friends. Why? Because not only was I an expert in breaking virginity, I had deflowered so many girls. Why do I like virgins, I know not but I know having the knowledge that a girl was a virgin was a serious turn on for me. Although virgins in this generation were scarce, so I decided to aim a little lower and more specifically. My target were teenage girls. They were fresh, beautiful, chaste but gullible, which means that one of their highest weaknesses were words also known as flattery.
I had watched a lot of romantic movies, read a lot of romantic books and listened to a lot of R&Bs all because I wanted to up my game and be good at making girls swoon just at the sound of my voice and the words that escaped my mouth. I had broken so many hymen that it seemed like oxygen to me. Why do I like virgins? It was simply because I had been abused by one when I was a child. I was just sixteen and the first shadow of beard could be seen above my upper lip and back then, I was in SS2. An innocent church boy who loved the piano and minded business.

You can also read: PASSWORD (20+)

My abuser had been a member of my church. She was twenty four and was chubby. She was in the choir department and was one of the lead vocalist. Her name was Gloria. Anytime Gloria sang, the holy Spirit seemed to be interested in visiting the church that day for you’ll see other female members of the church going into a trance or simply falling under the amounting. Some would reel back and scatter the chairs, upsetting them and alarming the other members of the congregation standing around them.
If they were not lucky, they would hit the floor and start rolling, squirming or vibrating like a Nokia phone. One of the things which baffled me was how they always remembered to keep their thighs together. Another puzzle that was yet to be solved was why it always had to be the feminine gender. Young girls, ladies, mothers and even grandmothers weren’t an exception. As long as Sister Gloria was ministering with her sonorous voice, a female will surely fall under the anointing.
Everyone admired her and even I myself had a crush on her which only my best friend knew about. I just didn’t know how I was to profess my love to sister Gloria. I mean, she was eight years older than I was and not only did I dread being embarrassed, I also dreaded being rejected, so I decided that it was best if I kept my feelings to myself to avoid stories that touch. However, since I would sometimes go to the church in the evenings after school for personal trainings, I soon discovered that something was going on between sister Gloria and brother Efosa, the choirmaster.
He was thirty-two and had a fiancee whom worshipped in another church. The important factor that gave Brother Efosa a chance to cheat was because of the long distance relationship he had with his girlfriend. She was in the northern part of the country, working in a bank and he was based in Lagos, working as the manager of a company. I had known brother Efosa for a very long time and I didn’t like him. In fact, I hated him the more when I found out that he had finally reached the tentacles towards the very girl I was crushing on and what was more annoying was the fact that she was almost always all over him.
It is a surprising thing that once a guy in the church is good at singing, suddenly, every girl has a crush on him. The guy didn’t have to be handsome or rich, he just had to stand on that alter, sing and plunge everyone down an emotional tunnel and boom, every girl wanted to talk to him. You keep hearing his name popping up everywhere on every girl’s lips till it becomes so annoying you want to choke the next girl who mentions his name to you.
Anyways, back to sister Gloria, I started noticing that something was fishy when I would see brother Efosa and sister Gloria sneak into a dark corner in the church. I didn’t like it one bit and I wondered what was so attractive about brother Efosa. Although, he was sturdy but he was bald and had a bushy beard covering his chin and a moustache forming around his mouth, so why would girls be pulled to him like moths to light?
Each night sister Gloria followed brother Efosa into a corner, she came out looking more distressed. One evening, as I arrived church and decided to eat some superbite sausage and Viju milk, I heard people arguing and then brother Efosa burst out of the corner with sister Gloria following him with tears while she pleaded about something I had no idea of but he was resolute so he brushed her off and walked out of the church, got into his car and sped off while sister Gloria returned inside the church building, sat down at the rear of the church and began to weep with her face buried in her eyes.
Concerned, I tucked away my snack and drink and tentatively approached her. I sat down with her but didn’t know what to say. I naively placed my hand on her back and began to pat her gently. She looked up and I realized that her face was streaked with tears and her eyes were red. She stared at me for a moment as she slowly ceased crying then asked me an unexpected question.
“How old are you, Patrick?” She asked, sniffling.
“Um, sixteen going on seventeen by August.” I replied, slightly puzzled.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” She asked yet again.
I smiled shyly. I wanted to tell her that I would love to date her but nobody else but I said instead, “No.”
“Do you m--------e?”
That question deepened my puzzled frown. I looked around warily due to the fact that we were in a church. “Um, sister Gloria, that question is a little bit too per-” I started to say but she cut me off.
“Just answer!” She stated.
I swallowed hard but simply nodded, too shy and ashamed to verbally affirm it in church. “Good,” she said. “I want you to do me a favour, it’s very important. Can you come to my place after school, in the evening?” She asked.
“But I have practice.” I said.
“Forget about practice. I’ll give you ten thousand naira if you can be there at 5:30 p.m.”
At the mention of such an amount, my eyes widened and I blurted. “I’ll be there.”
“Okay.” She rose, taking her handbag. “Do not tell anyone about it
“I won’t.” I meekly answered.

Without a word, she wiped her face with her hands and walked out of the church leaving me dumbfounded, wondering what sort of favour was so important that she was willing to offer ten thousand naira for it. On my way home after practice, I just couldn’t stop thinking about her and I anticipated the next day like I had never done before.




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