A Torrid Affair

I stomped off in a huff, muttering under my breath. “Are you really walking out on me?” He yelled. I turned a deaf ear to his threat as I drove off. That evening, I collapsed on my bed and started to cry; I felt used and cheated by his actions. Sam and I were in a peaceful and intimate relationship until he met his ex after so many years. I noticed he was getting too close to her, and I told him to stay away from her, but he said I was too paranoid.

Before I knew what was happening, my Sam completely changed and was suddenly overly protective of his phone, hardly spent quality time with me, and always came home late at night. Sometimes he wouldn’t come home at all and blamed it on impromptu meetings and unfinished
projects at work. I believed him; I honestly did until the day I borrowed his phone to make a call to my aunt.

My phone battery went flat in the middle of an important call with my aunt, so I borrowed his. Just as I dialled her number, he received a WhatsApp message. Seeing as the number wasn’t on his contact list, I initially ignored it, but you know how a woman’s instinct works; something triggered me to check who the person was. Opening the chat, I realised it was his ex. I started scrolling through their conversation and found that Sam had been spending the night in her apartment,  buying her things, and they’d been on several dates. That evening, I angrily accused him of cheating, but to my surprise, he laughed it off and told me it was a baseless suspicion. I got so annoyed that l left his house without listening to whatever he had to say.

Since giving each other space was the best option I could think of then, I decided to heed my friend’s advice to spend some weeks with her in Ghana to reflect and refocus. When I stepped foot in Ghana, I knew I would enjoy every bit of my stay there. Within a week, I was open to a lot of new adventures. I met new people, tried out new foods and even did charity work with my friend’s group.

I had so much fun that I forgot I had issues back home in Nigeria. My friend and I decided to party hard together for the last time before my departure to Nigeria. We got to the venue; everything was going smoothly, and we were all drinking, dancing and having fun. Then I noticed this guy walking in; he was tall and boyishly handsome. We made eye contact several times, and he came over and started talking. My friend had to excuse us since we were not carrying her along. We drank, talked, smoked some shisha, drank some more, and some more.

I started to get turned on, so I excused myself and went to the restroom. A couple was making out
when I entered, and I couldn’t have been more turned on. I felt like a voyeur. I had to leave the restroom when I realised I was spending so much time. Controlling myself, I went back to meet
him, and we started dancing. It was a dark and crowded dancefloor. He was standing behind me while we danced when he unexpectedly slipped his hand down the front of my pants(trousers) and began to rub my clit.

Since I was so horny, I couldn’t get myself to stop him, and since I didn’t stop him, he moved his hands lower, and his fingers were inside me. Feeling his soft hands inside me got me out of control, and I let out a soft moan. Ok, maybe it was louder than I thought because we noticed people were stylishly staring at us, so we left the dance floor for a room in a short let apartment across from the lounge.

We started kissing, and the kissing turned into pushing and pulling on each other. Then, pulling my pants down, he slipped them off my feet, dropped them on the floor, and leaned over to lower
my knickers. We returned to our kissing position on the bed; his fingers were between my legs and mine on his rock-hard ‘ego’ wanking him off. He then put it inside me, missionary position with
my legs wide open, thrusting in and out as slow as he could.

Seeing the pleasure in my eyes, he started to tease me; we’d be going at it, and then he’d suddenly
pull away, then penetrate me with only the first inch or two of his cock, over and over. By the time he penetrated me fully again, I was begging for it. The tingling and warm temperature building in my body became intense as his joystick went in and out of me. By this time, I was moaning uncontrollably from the intense pleasure.

That night, we both came crumbling and collapsing with so much passion. I woke up the following day without him beside me; he was gone. Even though we had a strong connection, we didn’t get to
know each other’s names. I was unsure whether to be happy or sad because I enjoyed everything that had happened the night before. I was supposed to feel guilty for cheating on Sam, but I was not sorry for what I did; after all, he cheated too.

We’re now even, I thought. A few days after, I returned to Nigeria, intending to end my relationship with Sam and focus on my business, but when Sam found out I was around, he kept coming to my house. I wouldn’t let him in. I decided to listen to him one day since he wouldn’t stop coming. I still loved him, so we made up.

Everything was going smoothly; our love grew stronger than I thought. Then one evening, Sam told me his brother, who lives in the United Kingdom, would be coming over to spend Christmas at his
place, and he couldn’t wait for him to meet me.

The day finally came, I heard Sam’s car drive in the driveway, so I went outside to welcome them; they were already out of the car. His brother was on the phone call; it must have been private because he was backing us. By the time he turned to greet me, I was shocked, and I wanted the
ground to open up and devour me. Our eyes met, and I knew my life was about to turn for the worst. I had unknowingly slept with two brothers.

About Author /

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published.

Start typing and press Enter to search