Ade the depth of that massive backside. A lucky

Ade had just moved into one of the two mini-flats in the large compound. He had never met his only neighbour, occupant of the other flat, a single lady who lived alone. Drips from fresh laundry under a laundry rope in front of her crib,  the yell of frying onions, and other culinary noises, had suggested her presence that morning. The washed clothes, hanging awkwardly in the strangeness of their feminine shapes, had caught his attention, as he walked towards her apartment. He admired the colour matches between panties and bras, admired the indulgence of fashion in the making of the ‘catapult’ panties — panties sinfully styled to concentrate their office solely on covering the vaginaAde decided to pay his neighbor a visit one day. He went to her place, knocked at her door and reply was a masculine voice. The door curtain parted to reveal a very handsome head, which gave him a long inspection before its owner came into complete view. It was a muscular fellow. A vertical scar, itself a piece of accidental art, was etched  at the centre of his chest. He was putting on a thin-tissue short, you could see his crotch, wild in its sheer abundance, its proportions easily guessed from the permission of thin-tissue shorts. Poor fellow, he was sweating, perhaps from domestic workaholism,. or from its sexual equivalent — or from both.Greetings. Introduction. Single Neighbour overheard the conversation from inside, and came out to join the duo. She was not a devil-may-damn pretty woman, but she was cool in her own right, curvy like hell. More pleasantries. The Man quickly assessed her curves, and admitted that she made a good choice in a boyfriend wielding the right genital monstrosity to plumb the depth of that massive backside. A lucky lady, she had a romantic, sexy hunk who did her laundry and made her breakfast in bed, he reasoned.Loverman was not living with Single Neighbour, but his visits were so frequent they earned him a tenancy status. Ok, he did her dishes, washed her clothes, and life was good. Life was good, but only at the cost of other privations: for every good, peaceful moment the duo shared together, they equally ensured a violent, conflicting moment, as if by compensation. A strange couple, they would throw harsh words at each other, then balls of eba and kitchen utensils, then punches, then love! For them, it seemed like love was so hard it had to be found through a tortuous path of trouble and agony, as scenes of happy living easily covered their episodes of strife. In the course of their fight one day, they yanked off Ade’s door net, and were found fixing it together moments later, carpenter and apprentice, erasing the earlier violence with one cute gesture of love. It was an endless chain of dramatic episodes, the expiration of that love scene lurking in the next, imminent bout of drama.A year later, when Single Neighbour finally dumped her lover, Ade asked her why she remained all along in an abusive relationship. It was the obvious answer: Loverman was so handsome; often begged her so pathetically after each quarrel, so much she’d be moved to forgive him; she loved him so much; and most importantly, he was the only man who knew the exact direction to her sexual bliss. No two experiences were ever the same, she said, as he was so creative he added new dimensions to the wildness of her pleasure. Even as she recounted that part, her face lit up in nostalgic excitement. ‘Ah!’, she added, for effect. Ade left that discussion a new, educated fellow, convinced in the knowledge that marital impunity is often the privilege of people who are smart enough to identify core but vain spousal priorities and concentrate on them!