Angie's Afternoon with Master Shango


Enjoy this excerpt from my recent Master Shango novel: Couples of South Pointe Lake.


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Around the time Steve Miller stepped out of his home and began observing the dramatic changes happening in his street in South Pointe, Angie had stopped at a gas station to consult her vehicle GPS regarding the quickest route to Jacksonville Avenue in Cumberland. It was the same address Olu Shango had texted her. She got done filling her tank then continued with her mission. She hadn’t driven to this part of Cumberland before. It felt good absorbing the scenery; she preferred it to being indoors listening to Steve whine with self-pity. Her phone rested on the passenger seat, switched off. She judged that Steve would sooner or later try to get ahold of her. Possibly Shango might try calling her, too; she would love to hear from him to know if he was expecting her.


Angie arrived at the house that bore the address on its mailbox. She parked her car and grabbed her phone, and came down. She stopped to adjust the scarf around her neck before shutting her car door. The street was quiet; whatever business could have compelled Shango to invite her out here, she wondered.


The door of the designated house opened and an older man came out to welcome her.

“Good day,” the man introduced himself as Carl when he shook her hand. “I hope the address wasn’t too hard to find? Do come in. Master Shango has been expecting you.”


They went inside. Angie took off her scarf and opened the top button of her blouse to let in more air. Carl directed her where to go upstairs.


“He’s probably done playing with Eve by now,” Carl said before continuing down the hall toward the kitchen.


Angie went upstairs without a word.


She came to the bedroom door and knocked first before turning the knob to enter.


Eve lay sprawled on the bed naked and smoking weed. She stared with glazed pair of eyes at Angie and smiled.


“Hey,” she muttered. “You came just in time. He’s in the bathroom,” she indicated the door.

As if he had overheard Eve’s voice and knew she wasn’t alone, the bathroom door opened and Olu Shango spilled out. He held a towel in his hand that he ran over his torso; he didn’t act surprised seeing Angie standing there.


“About time you showed up,” he said. “I thought you ought to be here by now.”


“I stopped by on the way to get gas. Is this where you’ve been hiding out when you aren’t home?”


“Nah. Eve and her husband have been begging me to stop by. She loves showing off her cooking skills.”


“That’s not the only pair of skills I love to show,” Eve purred with a chuckle.


“Of course not, babe. Do me a favor and go downstairs and check on your cuck for me. Angie and I have important stuff to hash out.”


Eve took another tote of her weed before coming off the bed. She tottered as she came to her feet; Angie came and held her hand as if fearing she might fall. Eve blushed as she wore her sandals.


“This is some good stuff Master Shango gave me,” she held up the roll of marijuana to Angie. “Care for a drag?”


“No, thanks. I’m good.”


“Call me if you two need a threesome,” Eve said before leaving the room.


Olu finished drying himself then threw aside the towel. They stood three feet from each other with the bed partly in the way between them. They knew what they were here for and knew what would eventually happen. It was a matter of how soon.


“You’ve got questions you want to ask,” Olu said, “now’s the time.”


“This is all some ingenious moves you’ve been making. How did you get to plan all of this?” Angie asked. “Was this all from the start, or did you at some point decide to make it all about me?”


Olu sat on the bed. “You were inclusive from the start, but it wasn’t all about you. My mission is to seduce and dominate as many couples in South Pointe that I can. My sex-slaves made things easy for me: they pinpointed which couples would be easiest to start with. You and your husband were on my list. I knew I had my work cut out for me by coming after you. But first, I needed to get others under my belt.”



Angie took her handbag off her shoulder and dropped it on a nearby chair, including her phone and scarf. She took off her sandals, then began unbuttoning her blouse, the whole time keeping her eyes on Shango.


“What others are you talking about? Are you referring to my friends, Morgan and Ellie?”


“That’s Cera and Amore,” he said. “Those are my aliases for them. I’m also talking about Blondie and Hanna—Hera and Rosa.”


“That night at the gazebo,” Angie threw aside her blouse then proceeded to unbutton her jeans. “That was Ellie you were with, right?”


Amore, yes. The gazebo was our meeting place where they all came to worship me as one. It’s where I give them my essence.”


“Your essence?”


“My seed. They return home and then get their husbands to eat their pussy and ingest me. The men never realized they were getting turned toward serving me. Not only turned but blinded. The wives—my sex-slaves—get their husbands to do whatever they want, and their husbands willingly go along.”


“Isn’t that similar to what you did with my neighbors, Alicia and Mike that night in their bedroom? You like going around taking advantage of couples?”


“I don’t go around taking advantage of anyone, Angie. Go downstairs and look at Carl and his wife, then come back and tell me if I took anything from them. They were like you and Steve when Yemi and I moved here—like every other couple in South Pointe Lake—unhappy and unfulfilled. I’m here to give pleasure, not to take anything away. But you first need to have the desire to want before you can get to receive. That’s what my essence has been giving to everyone that’s drunk my water.”


“I don’t understand.” Angie discarded her jeans then reached for her panties.


“It’s all in the water you and many others have been consuming since I arrived. It’s what led you to me that night at the gazebo; you had power over impulses. What I offer to you is the same thing I offer to your friends.”


“By my friends, you mean your so-called Stepford Wives clique?”


“What I offer to all women,” Olu rose to his feet; his penis was instantly turgid. “What I offer is freedom. Sexual, unadulterated freedom.”


“What about the husbands? What’s going to become of my Steve?”


“Nothing. My intentions are strictly sexual and have nothing to do with splitting your marriage.”


“But he will know.”


“Of course, he will,” Olu agreed. “He probably has by now. I got a text from Ollie telling me he’s invited Steve over so he can explain what’s going on. I’ve no doubt that before we’re done here, Steve is going to know a lot about us.”


“And that doesn’t worry you?”


“Do I look worried?” Olu drew closer to her. “Do you?”


Angie said nothing. She didn’t have to since they both knew the answer.


“About time you and I got in bed seriously this time,” Olu took her hand and led her to the bed.


Angie went to him.



Olu Shango allowed her to set the tempo this time, unlike their previous encounter at the gazebo when he was in control of the situation. Angie sat on the bed and applied both hands to stroke his organ. Her hand ran over the contours of his shaft, up to the helmet, squirting pre-cum onto her palm. She shoved her hair aside as she leaned forward with her mouth open and swallowed him. Olu rested his hand on her head, guiding her to keep at it. Angie felt a lock in her jaw muscles as she struggled with shoving his massive meat down her throat. It felt as if she was choking on a slab of iron; it made her nearly choke on her breathing. Shango’s response didn’t make it any easier for her.


He grabbed the back of her head and kept forcing her to consume more of him. He took bizarre pleasure in her discomfort as she struggled to suck his cock. At one point, he pinched her nostrils shut and kept on jerking his pelvis toward her face. Angie’s face grew crimson by the time he let go, and she then pulled back, gasping, sputtering, and coughing hard while still stroking his cock inches from her face. Something about the feel of his pulsing cock made her not wanting to let it go. Angie caught some of the strings of saliva dripping from her mouth and applied it onto his penis before resuming her foreplay. The succulent, slurping noise that escaped her mouth was like music to Shango’s ears. It emboldened his dominant spirit over whichever woman he craved to fuck. By the time they became settled with his domineering behavior, they had already gotten accustomed to wanting more of him.



Angie pulled away from his cock, leaving copious saliva hanging from her mouth as she then waited for the aching throb in her jaw muscles to dissipate. Olu then sat beside her and pushed her to lie on the bed. Angie opened her legs while she did; her labia folds spread with a warm invite. Olu lowered his face to inhale her sweet, infectious smell before applying his tongue. Angie sighed, her hands clutched the sheets while her body tensed, then she began squirming against Shango’s chin as he feasted upon her pussy like he was dining on a buffet. Angie groaned and kicked her hips; her frantic pants and whimpers melded with her cries.


Shango prodded her to slid further into the bed, after which he climbed on top of her. His cock brushed against her thigh, leaving a trail of pre-cum on her flesh. Angie spread her legs further. She took hold of his manhood and inserted it into her vagina.



“Awwwuuhhh!” Angie yelped. Her body tensed as Shango’s cock broke past her walls to get a taste of her orifice. She was gasping harder, even though they hadn’t even begun. She wondered if it had been this way during their previous encounter.


“Better catch your breath,” Shango advised with a wicked grin on his face. “It’s gonna get bumpy from here on.”