I sat and thought for a while before going downstairs. How was I going to face her? I wasn’t ready to talk about her cheating; I needed to know more details. But I’m not good at lying, and Chisom can easily read my expressions. I have always loved how sensitive she is to my feelings and to others. She notices people, their moods, and their preferences better than anyone I’ve ever known. That’s one of the reasons I loved her so much.
Not sure what to do, I went to the kitchen, thinking I could just smile and hide my feelings. That plan only worked for about ten seconds.
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” she said with a warm smile and a cup of black coffee, she knew I liked my coffee without cream. “I was worried you’d miss this beautiful weather. But I know you got in very late last night. How was your meeting?” She handed me the coffee but then took it back, put it on the kitchen table, and hugged me tightly, kissing the side of my neck. I hugged her back automatically, feeling her warm body under the robe, not knowing what to say. I felt like crying.
After the hug, I turned away, picked up my coffee, and pretended to look at the backyard. “Yeah, it’s a beautiful day. I thought we could go out and have a picnic or something.”
“That’s a great idea!” she said. “I have plenty of sandwich ingredients, and it’s too nice to stay inside all day. But,” she added with a playful tone, “we have something to finish from last night first!” I knew what she meant, we always made love when one of us returned from a trip, but she was asleep when I got home last night.
At that moment, all I could think about was her thong, stained with someone else’s cum. The thought of being intimate with her after she had been unfaithful made me feel furious and irritated. As she tried to pull me closer, taking my hand and leading me toward the stairs, she could see some of my thoughts reflected on my face.
“You know you owe me a couple of backshots, and …K, what’s wrong?” Chisom paused, released my hand, and stared at me closely. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I got a stomach upset while travelling, and I still feel a bit sick. Can we wait to settle that debt I owe you until I’m feeling better?” I tried to sound upbeat and playful, but Chisom didn’t seem entirely convinced by my attempt.
“Alright, dear. I’ll pack some easy, tasty food, nothing too fancy or spicy. Maybe spending the day outdoors in the sun will make you feel better.” She seemed unsure but didn’t ask more questions. After a quick shower, I got ready while she made us lunch. Then, we headed to the park for a picnic.
That afternoon was a mix of joy and pain. We spent the day together as if everything was normal. We sat on a blanket, shared lunch, and talked about our kids and my trip. Later, she took a nap with her head on my chest while I pretended to read the newspaper, but inside, I was struggling with many painful thoughts and feelings because of her cheating. If I hadn’t been so hurt by her unfaithfulness, it would have been a beautiful, peaceful day with the woman I loved the most.
As we headed back to town, she asked, “Do you feel better now? You seemed perfectly okay when we were at the park.”
“I’m still a little tired, but I think my stomach feels much better now.”
“She chuckled, ‘That’s great because tonight, I’m going to drain you.’ She took my hand off the wheel, kissed the back of it, and smiled at me.”
Her kindness and focus on me hurt deeply. How could she show me so much affection while being involved with someone else? Was her warmth just an act to hide her guilt? Could my wife whom I knew for so long really love someone else but pretend to still love me? What sort of monster was I living with?
At home, we had dinner and cleaned the kitchen together afterwards. We didn’t talk much, which was unusual for us. I noticed that I felt more comfortable around Chisom when I didn’t have to fake interest in conversation or hide how I really felt. She sensed something was off, but she didn’t bring it up.
After we finished washing the dishes, Chisom grabbed my arm and happily took me to the bedroom. She smiled wide and said, “Now it’s time for you to pay up baby.”
I couldn’t stand the idea of making love to her, of caressing her body, of eating her pussy or fucking her, knowing that someone else had done the same.
I paused on the stairs. “Uhhmmm, Chisom, can we talk for a bit? There’s something I need to talk to you about.” I hadn’t planned to say anything, but I couldn’t hold it back anymore.
Chisom noticed I looked serious, so she responded, “Sure, baby.” We returned to the living room where she sat on the sofa, and I took a seat in a chair opposite her.
After sitting quietly for a few minutes, unsure of where to start, I eventually said, “Baby, you know I really love you, right?” She nodded, seeming a bit confused.
“I want you to understand that our relationship means everything to me.” I continued. It’s my top priority, right after our children. It’s more important to me than my career or anything else. I would never do anything to risk losing it.”
Chisom replied, seeming unsure now, “Yes, baby. I feel the same about you, you know that.”
“Sweetheart, if I ever did something wrong that could hurt our marriage, I promise I’d tell you right away. I’d apologize and do everything I could to make things right. I’d never keep a secret that could damage our relationship. And I hope you’d do the same.”
Now she seemed impatient, maybe a bit worried. She asked, “Sure, Kunle. What’s going on?”
I stopped for a moment, unsure of what to say next. Finally, I said, “Chisom, I found your thong in the laundry room with cum on it. Are you cheating on me? Please be honest with me.”
Chisom didn’t react when I said it, but she tensed slightly and turned pale. After a moment, she smiled and said cheerfully, “Oh, baby, is that what’s bothering you? You sef. Remember, we had sex on Thursday before you went to Abuja. I wore those the next morning because I missed you and wanted to feel close to you while you were away. You must have really filled my pussy, because I felt myself dripping all morning.”
I just stared at my wife smiling at me, but I was shocked. I distinctly remember we didn’t have sex that Thursday night. I was up late working on some documents for a meeting, and she had gone to bed early. The last time we had sex was a few days before. Chisom looked me straight in the eye and lied to me! She did it so convincingly that it scared me.
Her story sounded so believable that I almost believed it myself. Did she really think I wouldn’t see through her?
Feeling deeply hurt and shocked by her blatant lie, I chose not to question her further. It seemed pointless. Instead, I said quietly, “Okay, maybe I just forgot.” Then, trying hard to act convinced, I added, “I apologize for accusing you of something so absurd.”
“Baby,” she answered, seeming relieved. “You have a wild imagination o! Let’s go upstairs so I can give you all the comfort and assurance your body can take.”
If you had told me just two days ago that there would come a night when I didn’t want to make love to my wife, I would have thought you were insane. But now, I felt nothing less than that. I clenched my teeth quietly and thought to myself, “Fine, you bitch! If you can lie straight to my face about being with someone else, then I can pretend to want to make love to you too.”
And it turned out I could. But I couldn’t enjoy it. We did all the things we usually loved doing in bed together. Lots of kissing and touching, and then I was between Chisom’s legs, making her cum a couple of times with my tongue. I went at it determinedly, feeling resentful, and focused on making her wildly excited.
Inside, I was thinking, ‘Does that motherfucker you’re fucking excite you like this?’ I made her orgasm quickly and continued, using two fingers inside her to stimulate her G-spot while I licked and sucked on her clitoris. She had two more orgasms and begged me to stop, pulling me up to her, saying, “Baby, please! Come up here and fuck me, baby!”
The sex was much the same. I thrust smoothly and steadily, intent on fucking the hell out of her. I approached it mechanically, steadily building up until I came intensely, shaking as I released inside her repeatedly. I didn’t even check if she came again while we fucked. For a brief moment, it was enough to distract myself from the image of her in ecstasy with another man.
After a few minutes of silence, I lay with my head on her shoulder, not yet looking at her. Chisom then spoke. “My God, baby, nobody else gives me orgasms like that!” Then, when she saw my expression, she laughed and said, ‘Oh, honey, you know what I mean. No one else could ever give me orgasms like that.”
I couldn’t sleep even after Chisom had cuddled up next to me and fallen asleep. I couldn’t understand how she could lie directly to me. But then again, I couldn’t believe she might be cheating on me either, so one more lie seemed insignificant compared to that.
As I looked back over the past weeks and months, I tried to find any hint that things had changed between us. I looked for any signs of her being distant or avoiding me, or, on the flip side, any unusual displays of warmth or affection. At first, I couldn’t recall anything specific, but then I remembered our last anniversary.
Her facial expression at the restaurant was a clear sign of something wrong. I recognized that look, I knew it well. Could it be that she had been fucked to the point of soreness on our anniversary? I quietly left the bed, put on a robe, and went downstairs, checking to see if Chisom was still asleep.
I sat in the living room with the lights off, remembering the sex after our anniversary dinner. My wife, who usually enjoys getting head but isn’t as keen on giving it, surprised me with an amazing blowjob. However, she didn’t let me touch or even kiss her pussy because she was sore and didn’t want to make it worse. She probably didn’t want me to notice it was sore.
Her way of solving the problem was clever, like when my wife distracted me with her new see-through nightgown and promised a special night together. But when I found someone else’s panties days later, I realized I’d been clueless and deceived, like the typical ignorant husband.
It was obvious that I now had to start the tedious task of showing that she was cheating, by catching her in the act or finding something suspicious that she couldn’t explain. What saddened and angered me was imagining what would happen next.
Definitely a big argument, but then what? A painful divorce? Months of her apologizing and me feeling bitter and blaming her? Was I supposed to go find someone else to be with, even though I didn’t want to? How can our marriage survive after the cheating and all the lies that must have come with it? How long has this been happening?
I buried my face in my hands and cried. After an hour, I splashed cold water on my face and quietly returned to bed.
Written by Sixtie 9ine
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