Filthy logo



By Ejeh EmmanuelPublished 5 months ago 3 min read



What’s the matter? Can’t you find the hole?” Ijeoma teased Jide from the office across the hall. He folded up a piece of paper and made another attempt at her wastepaper basket. He missed again by about an inch. It was almost afternoon and Jide was enjoying watching his pretty, busty co-worker tidy up her office before going to lunch.

Ijeoma bent over to reach the lowest drawer in her file cabinet and Jide slowly crushed another piece of paper, watching the stretchy fabric of her skirt gradually rise up the back of her thighs as she searched through the file drawer. He took aim and launched another shot, this time hitting Ijeoma’s ass, right between her round cheeks.

“I found that one,” he commented, proud of his achievement from a range of nearly fifteen feet.

“I don’t know how you could miss that; it’s a very big target,” she said, belittling her slightly fleshy ass. She was in her late twenties and had a little more back there than she used to.

“No, it’s just right,” he said, intently watching her ass change shape as she stood back up.

“I bet you say that to all the female workers here.”

In fact, Jide flirted with a number of women on their office floor, but Ijeoma was the most fun—probably because she could dish it back to him as if she were the office filth. Jide knew better, though. He knew the real Ijeoma. He had been the one that got her to come out of her shell when she joined the company as an intern, shy and quiet. They became good friends, although a little naughty in their attitude towards one another, despite the fact that Ijeoma was married and Jide was in a serious relationship.

Their boss had taken the day off and there was always a different mood in the office when he was gone. The phones were quiet that morning and Ijeoma and Jide had taken their casual flirting a little further than usual, playing, as mice do, while the cat was away. Some of their playful chitchat was getting personal, dipping into the subject of their sex lives at home.

Ijeoma was happily married to Chidi, going on their third year, but she had recently begun getting a little anxious about their life in the bedroom. Sex was okay, but it wasn’t knocking her brains off. She didn’t feel comfortable talking truthfully with Chidi about it; it just wasn’t normal conversation for them.

Chidi was from a very strict Christian family, who barely acknowledged the existence of sex, let alone discussed it openly. Suppressing that carnal instinct was all he knew before he met Ijeoma. He was still a virgin on their wedding night.

Ijeoma was not so immaculate, but was by no means a whore. She had had a few boyfriends, but only one or two long-term relationships. Her limited sexual experiences before marriage seemed to fade away after marrying Chidi, burying themselves under the safe and comfortable boundary of conventional marital intercourse.

Chidi seem contented with doing things the same way they always had, reluctant to try anything new or risky. They made love in the missionary position almost exclusively, and Ijeoma could predict his orgasm almost accurately.

Never in a million years would she have thought she’d be telling details like this to a colleague, let alone a male one, but Jide had a way of getting her to open up about very private things—probably because he was so helpful and vulnerable when it came to talking about his own sex life. He made the topic seem natural, even fun. She was thankful she had aweirdo as Jide as a friend to confide in, but she would never tell her husband about the things she and Jide talked about, or the mostly innocent flirting that went on in the office.

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