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Must Read: Legend Of The Fucckers (18+)- Season 1 Episode 8 – Stories

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I thought about it, but soon realized there was nothing I could do. Every room and space in my compound was occupied by people that came for the burial. I managed the small romance and got contended with it. She responded to every touch and stroke I gave her; and when I slipped my hand into her undies, she draw herself closer to me. . .

The following day was the busiest. More people trooped into our compound to pay tribute to my old man. Joyce and I stayed together all through the day. I kept her busy, telling her about Ezenwanyi, who was about to be buried. She was enthusiastic as I unraveled the mystery behind the throne my old man occupied. Ezenwanyi had played a vital role in retaining the throne in our family. After her husband’s death during the civil war, she resisted all attempts by her husbands brothers and uncles to take the throne, keeping it for her eldest son; my dad to reach up to age before officially ascending to the throne.

She was impressed after I told her the tale. She asked more questions and I answered them all.
When it got late, we retired to the open palour. It was the eve of the burial and more uncles and cousins had come for the burial, making the palour more filled. I suggested that we go to my friend’s place to sleep, but she declined. After taking our bath, we both met at our usual point.

This time around, as I sipped my alomo, she requested that I give her some. I handed the bottle to her. She took a surprising big gulp. I watched her as she tried to swallow the drink, squeezing her face like she just ate poo.

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After the first trial, she became more comfortable as she gulped on the drink. Soon, alomo took its effect. She started talking freely; telling me some weird stuffs she hadn’t told me before; how his dad used to beat her mum, how she slept with a lecturer to pass a course, how she was disvirgined by their house help. She didn’t stop at that, she kept drowning herself with the alomo until she was high; more high than someone that smoke weed.

We retired to our spot and she started the romance almost immediately. Some of my ‘cousins’ were still gisting on the corner, and I was concerned they may hear us. But Joyce was far tipsy to care about being heard. We kissed and caressed each other. When the pressure built was hard to take in, I started doing a mental calculation of where to take her to and tidy her wella. I knew all the nooks and crannies of my house; everywhere was pretty occupied; either by cooks, or far relations lodging in them.

There was a free room; a big space!
It was the general reception room: where Ezenwanyi was to lie in state.

The room had been cleared previously in the day. Ezenwanyi’s corpse was to lie in state there when it is brought from the morgue the next morning. I saw the interior decorators working on it few hours ago.

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It was a risk worth taking.

Alomo has a way of shutting down your better sense!

I whispered into her ears that there was somewhere better we could sleep. She insisted she wasn’t going to any of my friend’s place and I assured her it was within the same compound.

I took her to Ezenwanyi’s palour. It was deserted as I expected. It was beautifully decorated with long drapes covering all the walls. It had no chairs no bed, just a well furnished rug and something that looked like an alter at the middle of the palour; it was a decorated point where her coffin will be kept. I took joyce to that point. We started kissing almost immediately as the clothes flew off our bodies like they were on fire. I made her lie on the alter with her legs spread towards me. I didn’t have a condom on me as I never anticipated fvcking a relation of mine during our grandma’s burial; right at the point where her corpse would be lying in state.

Speak of crazy things I did! This almost tops the list.

We had a sweet passionate s*x that night. It was hot as she encouraged me to fckk her more. She loved every bit of it as she m0aned and screamed her voice out. We didn’t mind that anyone could hear our voice, we were lost in passion; thumping and fvcking out our brains.

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When I was about coming, I managed to pull out of her and spill the fluid all over the place. There was nothing to use to clear it up, so I used part of the silk clothe used to cover the alter. Joyce wanted us to sleep there that night but I insisted we left. Maybe she didn’t really know where we were and the implication if we were caught.

The next day, the burial commenced properly.

Everything went smoothly. When it was time for lying in state, we, the grandchildren waited with our uniforms to go and see her. When it got to our turn, we walked in, all twenty- something of us.

Joyce was standing close to me as usual.

From the look on her face, it was obvious she was just realizing that were we fcked last night was the same spot the corpse was la!d. We exchanged glances as we walked round the corpse, taking our final looks and paying our last respect to Ezenwanyi. Then I saw the mark on the silk clothe that covered the point the coffin was kept. It was my sp’er.m; dried and hanging loose their, leaving a mark that is hard to notice.

Then we left. I was the last to leave the room. Before leaving the room, I turned back to have a last look at Ezenwanyi.

She was staring back at me. . .I hurriedly left the parlour.

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