Immediately, he slipped his arms around my waist, and I felt an intense warmth in my body. He flipped me around to face him, and he started kissing me- all the way down my neck and into the plunge of my neckline while swirling
his fingers around my nipples. He raised my gown and stopped at my waist, then rubbed my underwear with his hands until it became soaked.

Gently, he started helping me off with my dress; I was teased through the ticking, rubbing and kissing all over my body, leaving me begging for more. I had never felt anything more euphoric like that before. I was so engrossed in the moment that I didn’t notice when he knelt in front of me. The moment he pulled my coochie to his mouth, I turned my brain off and was ready to let things roll.

Feeling his soft and wet tongue inside me made me feel out of control; I became swept up in whatever he was doing. My mouth was wide open, and I couldn’t help but moan out his name with pleasure. Pulling me to the side of the bed, he went down on me from behind, thrusting in and out as slow as he could. The warm, tingling and sharp wave of temperature building in my body became an intense, dizzy tornado of sensations and feeling consuming me. We reached the Big O slowly and intensely as he thrust into me while we held on to each other, shaking with the intensity.

Phil and I lay together on the bed as he stroked my hair and body, simultaneously telling me how much he loved me. I couldn’t help but blush as so many happy hormones flooded my brain. I walked jelly-legged back to my car as he saw me off. Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrating in my bag, so I picked it up to see who the caller was.

I saw “MINE” on my phone screen; I pushed my phone back into my bag because I knew picking up that call in the
presence of Phil would lead to a conversation we wouldn’t be able to finish. Immediately I got home, I dialled his
number, and he picked up almost immediately, “Babe, where are you? Why are you not picking up my calls?” he asked
calmly.

“I’m so sorry, dear; I was in a meeting, so I couldn’t pick up your call; you know how strict my boss is.”, I replied immediately, trying to maintain my normal voice. “Sorry dear, have you gone to see my mum? Remember she said she wanted to see you before our engagement?” he asked. “I will see her before this week runs out, don’t worry”, I replied reluctantly.

We talked for a while about the progress of our wedding preparation and some other stuff before Jeff finally ended the call. Choosing between the both of them is like being stuck in the middle. I know the limbo and indecision were nothing but mistrust in myself. I couldn’t get myself to leave any of them because I equally loved them both. Phil and I dated back in our university days; he was my first love. It was a slow-burning relationship. We spent all our free time exploring the city and each other. I couldn’t stop thinking back on that night he deflowered me in his hostel and how naughty it felt.

We shared a beautiful, supportive, thrilling love for four years before it dissolved. When we realised we were posted to different states for our NYSC program, somehow, we knew our love wouldn’t last forever, but we didn’t let it stop us from revelling at the moment. Eventually, after two months, we lost each other’s contact; I tried everything I could to reach him, all to no avail. That period was so painful and gut-wrenching for me. I couldn’t get myself to move on. I tried to stay in his life, hoping he would return for me. I did that for a whole year I still didn’t hear from him. After some time, I got over the mourning period and stopped thinking about him. I decided to move on.

Then I met Jeff, and I fell in love with how he snatched me out of the bleakness of my depression and into the light again. The way he makes me genuinely smile and happy was everything to me. I never knew one person could make such a difference, but he did. We dated for a while, and surprisingly, he proposed to me at my 26th birthday party.
I was so happy and elated when he placed the ring on my finger that night.

Everything was going smoothly; I met his siblings and parents, who were so lovely. Our wedding preparation was going smoothly, and I couldn’t wait to walk down the aisle. Suddenly everything changed when I met Phil again
after two years. We met on a night out for my friend’s birthday party. I was so surprised to see him. It was a
mixture of emotions; I was both happy and angry. He explained everything that happened to me, and I believed him despite my massive grudge against him.

We couldn’t deny the energy between us. We left the party together, and things started to get a little frisky in his car, which turned into him kissing me all over. A part of me wanted him to stop, and the other half yearned for more. Before I knew it, he was on top of me, and I was moaning his name with pleasure. That night, we both came crumbling and collapsing with so much passion. I knew I was wrong, but I couldn’t resist him. Every now and then, I promised myself I’d stop seeing him and focus on my wedding, but I couldn’t get myself to.

I was surprised by his response when I told him I was engaged; he said he would wait for me to decide whom to choose between them. It’s been three months, and my wedding is in a month. I knew I couldn’t eat my cake and have it, and I had to choose between them. I knew Jeff was the perfect guy for me; how his family treated me with love and care made me feel guilty. I knew I had to end things with Phil, but whenever I behold him or even hear his voice, I lose control, and before I know what’s happening, I start doing things I’m not supposed to do.

The last time I went to Phil’s house, I intended to break up with him, but before I could say ‘Jack Robinson’,
I got carried away again. Every fibre of my being responds uncontrollably to him. It started with his hands on my leg, then we started kissing intensely, followed by more kissing and licking, and then the inevitable. The rest, as
they say, is history.

Downtown
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