Liverpool Lust
"Uber driver Blessing picks up football player Ryan after a match. When his flat turns out to be flooded, she offers him her couch for the night. The thick Nigerian beauty gets much more than a five-star rating."
"Ryan? Going to Princes Dock?"
The footballer folded himself into Blessing's Prius, all six-foot-two of lean muscle. She'd recognized him from the match coverage—rising star, just scored the winner.
"That's me. Cheers for picking me up at this hour."
It was 1 AM, but Blessing loved the night shift. Better money, fewer difficult passengers. And occasionally, you got someone like Ryan.
She caught him checking her out in the rearview mirror. She knew what he saw—thick thighs that pressed against the driver's seat, curves that her practical jacket couldn't hide, full lips that she'd painted deep red tonight.
"Good match today," she offered.
"You follow football?"
"Nigerian. We're born with it."
He laughed, and the tension in the car shifted to something warmer.
Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to his building. The flashing lights and fire trucks were not a welcome sight.
"What the hell?"
"Building's being evacuated, mate," a firefighter told him. "Water main burst. Won't be getting in tonight."
Ryan stared at the chaos, bag over his shoulder. "Brilliant. Just brilliant."
Blessing should have driven away. Found her next fare. Instead: "Need somewhere to crash? I've got a sofa."
He turned to look at her, really look. "You sure?"
"Can't leave Merseyside's star striker sleeping on the street, can I?"
Her flat in Toxteth was small but clean. Blessing poured them both glasses of wine while Ryan surveyed the space.
"Nice place."
"It's home." She handed him his glass. "Bathroom's through there if you want to shower. I can find you something to sleep in."
"You're being very kind to a stranger."
"You're not a stranger." She smiled. "I've watched you play for two seasons."
"A fan?"
"Something like that."
The way she said it made him pause. Set down his glass. Step closer.
"Can I be honest with you?" he asked.
"Please."
"I've been watching you too. The whole drive. Trying to work out if you were flirting or just friendly."
"What did you decide?"
"I'm hoping flirting."
Her answer was to kiss him. He responded instantly, hands finding her waist, pulling her thick body against his athletic frame.
"Been a long time since a man held me like this," she admitted.
"Their loss." His hands traveled down to her hips. "God, you feel good."
They didn't make it to the bedroom. Her jacket came off in the hallway, his shirt in the living room. By the time they hit the sofa, she was in just her bra and knickers, and he was down to his briefs.
"You're beautiful," he breathed, taking in her curves. "Absolutely beautiful."
"Flatterer." But she smiled, arching as his hands explored. "Show me what those athletic lungs can do."
He showed her. His mouth traveled down her body, worshipping every inch. When he settled between her thick thighs, she grabbed his head and held on.
"Oh God. Oh God, right there!"
His stamina was professional-grade. He brought her to the edge again and again before finally sliding inside her, filling her completely.
"Yes," she breathed. "That's it. Don't stop."
He didn't stop. He took his time, finding angles that made her scream, building rhythm until she was clawing at his back. When she came, it was like a wave, crashing through her whole body.
"Your turn," she said, flipping them over. "Let me show you what Nigerian women do."
She rode him like she was competing for something, her thick body bouncing, her breasts swinging in his face. He gripped her hips and thrust up to meet her until they both exploded together.
Morning sun found them tangled on the sofa, too satisfied to have moved to the bed.
"So," Ryan said, tracing patterns on her skin. "About that five-star rating..."
"You'd better give me six."
He laughed. "I've got training in an hour. But tonight—can I take you to dinner?"
"On one condition." She climbed on top of him. "Breakfast first."
"I'm not hungry."
"I wasn't talking about food."
Ryan was definitely going to be late for training. But as Blessing showed him exactly what Nigerian mornings looked like, he couldn't bring himself to care.