I felt like shit.
Well, that wasn’t quite true. I felt rather good physically. Quite energized in fact. But mentally I was scolding and spanking myself like no tomorrow, with some strange hope that feeling guilty and bad could fix things.
Eniola and I lived in a duplex flat, which I solely owned. Eniola always insisted on supporting, to add to our household funds, but the fact of the matter was that I was earning quite more than she was. Neither of us seemed to value money over our relationship, luckily.
The house was very large and quite expensive. It consisted of, naturally, a bathroom, two bedrooms, one of which saw little to no use, a big living room and a dedicated kitchen. After entering inside, Eniola headed practically straight for the shower. I followed her with my eyes fixated on her back as I stood in the middle of the room, occupying myself mentally.
‘She doesn’t deserve this,’ I thought.
Eniola was sweet and kind. She was kind and cheerful and fun to be around. In all the years together, whenever I was tired or feeling down, she was there ready to cheer me up. And I liked cheering her up as well.
We complemented and helped each other as a good couple should. I didn’t even think of her as just my girlfriend — I thought of her as my partner. I wished everything to turn out well for her, and I wanted to give her my best.
And with these nice, happy thoughts came overpowering dread and guilt. But the worst part wasn’t that I felt guilty for all the crazy things I had done with some unknown woman on a bus. The worst part was that I felt guilty about not feeling guilty if that made any sense.
I frowned, leaning against the wall, staring at the slightly ajar bathroom door, listening to my sweet girlfriend’s lively humming as she showered. I was such an asshole boyfriend.
Ever since that devilish, attractive lady stepped on that bus I did nothing but cheat on my girlfriend. Maybe not completely, but in every action, thought, and word. I deceived her and lied to her. And I loved every second of it.
Now when I was calm again, when my heartbeat slowed and quietened down, I should — if I really loved my partner and girlfriend, my Eniola — be wracked with guilt.
But I wasn’t.
All the memories, still vividly burned into my mind, seemed like fun. Harmless fun. After all, Eniola didn’t notice a thing. So what was the problem?
I shook my head and went to look for something cold to drink. I walked slowly, almost dragging my feet, trying to figure myself out. Why was I like this?
I poured a refreshing juice into a glass, then walked towards the chair. I exhaled fully and loudly as I sat down. When I drank, I didn’t feel much refreshment.
Meanwhile, my loyal girlfriend hummed on happily as she finished her shower.
“Hey, babe. What’s going on?” she asked as she stepped out in her towel minutes later.
“Nothing,” I replied, absently staring into my half-empty glass.
“You sure?” she asked, stepping forward. There was concern in her voice. “You look so sad.”
I forced a smile and looked at her. She was a sweetheart. My sweetheart.
“Come here,” I said to her, standing up. I must’ve seemed strange, surprising her with my attitude.
She approached with her eyebrows high. She wasn’t anxious at all, just curious. As she got closer, I grabbed her by the hips and pulled forward.
“I love you, Eniola,” I whispered, looking seriously into her eyes.
She felt like melting into a warm, fuzzy puddle full of love when I kissed her. It was a calm, gentle kiss. She wrapped her arms around my neck. After a long while, we broke the kiss. Eniola didn’t quite understand why I was acting so solemnly, but she hugged me.
“I love you too,” she whispered into my ear. She meant it with every fiber of her being.
We stood there like that for a while. Just staring and smiling, sharing a bonding connection. It made me truly remember and understand why I loved Eniola. I wasn’t thinking about anything, or anybody, else. There was just warm, peaceful love.
“Alright, you look tired. I think I can let you go now,” I said playfully.
“Mm, yeah,” she said, sighing and rolling her eyes. She did it in a joking manner, as a wide, adoring smile quickly returned to her face. Then she caressed my shirt. “We could go cuddle in our bed instead…”
“No, I need to stay up for a while. You go on ahead, I’ll join you in a moment,” I said, stroking her hair.
“Mmm,” she hummed constantly. Her voice was slightly muffled with my shirt. “It better be sooner than later,”
“It will, baby. Go ahead.”
She pulled back. Her smile was infectiously sweet. She pecked me on the lips and turned around, heading into our bedroom. I watched her go, thinking loving thoughts.
I sat down, refreshed, and calmed. I listened to her lie down, and then start breathing deeply. She must’ve been more tired than she revealed.
I drank the remaining contents of my glass. I felt in control again, as I brought up the overwhelming topic at hand back to the forefront of my mind. I have decided.
I made a huge mistake. It had never happened before, and I would never ever let it happen again. I loved Eniola, and as I thought about it I felt even ready to propose and marry her. I didn’t need some big-breast slut to keep me happy.
I frowned slightly as I felt the tiniest jolt of pleasurable arousal from the memory of that lady. But I shoved it down. If some primitive, subconscious part of the brain wasn’t ready to understand some mature things beyond the call of my genes, I would just force it to behave. I would stay in control.
I would redouble all my efforts to make Eniola the happiest girl in the world by being the best boyfriend a man could be. I would not complain, and instead, I would be thankful and grateful for being able to share my life with such an amazing person.
That was my decision, and I would stick to it no matter what. I was confident in my resolve.
Well, what was left was to apologize to that selfish woman for seducing her, instead of maturely pushing her aside. But primarily to let her know it was a mistake, and that I was blocking her on my phone. It was for the best we never meet again.
I sighed and calmly took my phone. I felt in control. I opened it and saw a whole bunch of text messages, so sparing them no more than a glance each I proceeded to delete them one by one. They were mostly similar, all conveying the same information — that the lady was, apparently, horny, and she needed me to fuck her. In a couple of them, her tone was rather aggressive and demanding. She even rudely insulted and belittled my girlfriend, primarily by evoking colorful comparisons of their chests. Together with insinuating which one, without a doubt, I would enjoy squeezing far more.
I shook my head, suppressing bad thoughts and ignoring the vivid, mental pictures that came spontaneously and unasked for. I carried on deleting the messages. There was a surprising number of them, which she seemed to send every couple minutes for the past hour or so, ever since I got off the bus. Those that were latest also included information that she had arrived at her house and was…oh boy, waiting for me.
I was just about done when I had just received yet another one. I rolled my eyes, but then I noticed that it wasn’t a text.
It was a video message. I moved my thumb towards the delete button, but my hand must’ve slipped or something because I clicked ‘play’ instead.
Things would’ve been far different if I didn’t. But I did, and my primitive, biological, subconscious brain pushed back, showing me that my conscious mind wasn’t the only part of me that could enforce demands.
There was a woman. A curvy, tight-bodied, extremely attractive lady. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew who she was. She appeared to be in a bathroom of sorts, probably her own.
I tried being dismissive, belittling how desperate or ‘clueless’ she was, but my thoughts were just being cut short, the sentences of my inner dialogue trailing off.
Because she was wearing a bra that seemed a size too small for her giant breasts. Because she was wearing sexy panties, giving me a view of her deliciously juicy ass and clearly moist area between her thighs. And because I, while my sleeping girlfriend couldn’t hear the woman’s lusty whisper:
“I’m so hot for you, darling.”
My hand absentmindedly dropped to my rapidly growing dick. And she began moving, sensually and gracefully.
“Don’t you want to fuck me?”
I wasn’t thinking at all, my mind was silent and focused. I could hear the faint outline of Eniola’s gentle breathing in the next room. My hand moved out of its own volition, stroking me through my trousers that felt a bit uncomfortable for some reason.
The slut must’ve leaned her phone against something, because it was just acting as a camera now, recording the spectacle. And there was what to see. She began dancing like a stripper, bouncing her fantastic body with arousing, circular motions.
“I’m so much better than your girlfriend…she doesn’t have to know…”
She half-moaned in the video as she cupped her magnificent breasts. She turned around and slapped her ass, producing a clear, crisp spanking sound, affirming the tightness of her bubble butt.
Then she suddenly spun around and grabbed her phone. She turned its camera around and a bathroom mirror came into view. Her reflection in it looked naughty and sexy, and her face had a little bit thicker makeup than before. She looked like the most irresistible seductress in the world.
“I need you right fucking now,” she whispered, her tone demanding. “I don’t give a fuck what your stupid girlfriend is doing, I’m dripping wet and it’s your fault! Come here right now and fuck me!”
The video ended. I was stunned.
I had decided and committed myself a few moments ago. All that remained, it seemed, was for me to make my choice official.
I could just block this slutty lady, take a deep breath, and go to my loving girlfriend. My life should get back to normal soon enough. It was an easy choice, as well as the right choice.
Because the only alternative was to cheat on my girlfriend. And it definitely wouldn’t stop there. There would be unforeseen developments and unfavorable consequences. My relationship might be forever ruined, not to mention my beloved Eniola might find out and end up utterly devastated. And all that for what? I’d have to commit to sneaking around, living a double life with all the stress and effort it involved…for what?
To bang some random, curvy bitch, who I didn’t even know the name of? Some unknown, wild whore, mean slut, and a homewrecker to boot? Just because she had juicy, mouth-watering breasts, a tight body…a fat ass, and a gorgeous face? Just because her pleading made me want to dominate her and make her beg, and her aggressive, sexual demands made me want to fuck her till she passed out from pleasure? Just because I was loving everything she was doing?
Just because my beloved girlfriend of two years couldn’t hold a candle to this sex goddess?
It was a simple choice.
It was late evening. Most of the traffic, at least in less crowded areas of Lagos was subdued and further slowing down. Yet one particular taxi was racing through the streets. It was headed for the other side of Lagos, which was a fair bit away.
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