IN HER HUSBAND’S BED

IN HER HUSBAND’S BED

A friend who knew that I have a thing for older men gave me Nduka’s Facebook ID and asked me to add him up. He’d spoken to Nduka about me and apparently, the man was cool with the hookup. My friend also told me that he was married. That wasn’t much of a bother to me.

When I hit up Nduka on Messenger, he responded warmly. He was cool and friendly, and we got along fine in our chatversation. After several days of getting acquainted, he invited me over to his place. He lived in a neighbouring town, which was an hour-long drive away from me.

And so, on that Sunday, I set off to go see him. I got to the park around 10 AM and called him. Even before he spoke after picking the call, I could tell that he was in church, what with the booming sounds of worship I could hear on the other end. He told me to find somewhere in the park to sit and wait for him to come pick me up after service.

I hate being made to wait for a potential hookup. And I was annoyed that he didn’t tell me he’d be in church. I would have arranged my trip to coincide with the end of church service. I had the mind to get into a bus and return straight home, but I didn’t. I didn’t want the money I spent coming all this way to be a waste. So instead, as I sat there in the park, I began making calls, trying to see if there was any other available hookup I could go to and forget Nduka.

However, it wasn’t long before he called me, saying he was on his way. Some minutes later, I recognised the driver of a car pulling up into the park. He saw me and waved at me with a smile.

As I approached, I was a bit taken aback to see that he had what looked like his entire family in the car: a woman who could only be his wife was in the passenger seat and four children were in the back, one of them, a young girl, fussing over the other younger three in a manner that suggested that she was the house help.

Seriously?! What kind of man brings his family along to pick up his gay hookup?

It felt so weird, him coming to see me with his family. It felt so fucking weird. I was uncomfortable and found myself instinctively summoning very ounce of masculinity in me to mask any effeminacy that I might embarrass him with.

The car was full and I couldn’t fit in with the kids in the back. So, Nduka gave me some money and told me to charter a keke. He gave me an address that I was to give to the keke driver, while still informing the driver to follow his car. I got a keke, and after a brief exchange with the driver, we were soon following after Nduka’s car as we drove through the town.

When we got to what seemed like the junction to his place, Nduka stopped. The keke driver pulled up beside him and he asked me to come down and walk the rest of the way to a shop that wasn’t very far. I was bewildered by this; why couldn’t the keke take me all the way to his house with them? Then I figured that they probably needed time to tidy up the house before receiving visitors.

So, I walked to the shop and waited. About five minutes later, Nduka reemerged from the compound I saw him drive into. He walked toward me, beaming with a welcoming smile. Then he hugged me. This wasn’t a platonic, pleased-to-meet-you hug. No. It was a sensuous, Gosh-you’re-so-hot-I-can’t-wait-to-fuck-you embrace. And the fact that it was happening out here – even though there wasn’t a lot of pedestrian traffic – filled me with some unease.

He took my bag and we chit-chatted as he led me back to the compound. The house inside was a modest duplex. He led me to a tree, under whose shade we sat and continued gisting. Moments later, his wife came out to meet us. She was a beautiful woman and looked to be in her early thirties, much younger than Nduka, who was in his mid-forties. We exchanged pleasantries and Nduka introduced her as Cynthia (not her real name of course). She was so genial and welcoming, which was a bit unsettling for me as I wondered what her husband had told her to explain away the fact that a boy in his early twenties was his visitor.

She went back into the house and then reemerged with a jug of palm wine and two glasses. Nduka and I drank and gisted for several minutes under that tree, until she returned with some food: well-prepared rice and stew. She served the food, and again, I was unsettled by how she put the food in one dish, clearly expecting me and her husband to eat from the same plate.

What is going on here?

After eating, Nduka said he had to go out for some work-related errands, asking me to come with him. As we got ready to go out, Cynthia and the house help came out to clear out the used dishes, with Cynthia taking my bag with her into the house.

Nduka and I spent the rest of the day on his errands, and we ended up coming home around 7 PM. We went inside and Nduka dropped into what I imagined was his man-of-the-house sofa in the living room. There was some commotion as his children crowded him with their demands of his attention.

Cynthia came out then to ask me if I wanted to have my bath. I said yes. She asked if I wanted to bathe with hot or cold water. I replied that I am very specific about the temperature of my bathing water, so both hot and cold water should be left in the bathroom for me to mix myself. She chuckled and made a joke about me being an ajebo. It was a good joke and I laughed – but within me, her friendliness was gradually freaking me out.

In fact, I was so uncomfortable with the entire situation that as I washed my body in the bathroom, I decided that nothing could ever happen between me and Nduka under this roof. I didn’t know why he’d had the mind to bring me to his house with his entire family in it, and I imagined that his plan would be to sneak into the guest room where I’d be sleeping for us to shag. I told myself that should that happen, I would shut it down.

I couldn’t fit to shout abeg.

I finished bathing, and there Cynthia was with a fresh towel. She even brought her body cream for me to apply, which I rubbed over my hands and feet. Then we went into the living room to join Nduka, who was there watching TV. The children had obviously been shooed off to bed.

Much later, Nduka rose and left the parlour, retiring for the night.

I sat there, waiting for Cynthia’s cue, expecting that she’d be the one to show me to the guest room, where my bag was.

Instead, she turned to me and said the words that shocked me.

“Go in and join him na,” she said.

I stared at her, astonished, weirded out. I was in my mind like: What is this woman talking about?

When she saw the expression on my face, her lips turned up into a wry smile before she said again, “Go inside and join him. He’s waiting for you.”

Oh my God! What the fuck is going on here?

At that stage in my life, I hadn’t had a lot of experience hooking up with married men, but I was pretty sure that a wife wasn’t supposed to say the things this woman was saying to me.

But okay.

I got up and she led me inside to a door, gesturing for me to go in. I went in and she shut the door behind me. Nduka was lounging on the bed in his briefs. I climbed into the bed next to him, and for a while, we simply talked. Because of the vast age difference between us, I didn’t feel comfortable enough to ask him what was going on. But I knew that this was no ordinary circumstance.

After a few minutes of idle chatter, he made the first move. He touched my thigh, then he moved up to kiss me. We kissed for a bit, and then his hand began to move to my crotch. This was when I broke the kiss and gently pushed him back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“We can’t do anything here, in this house,” I answered. “I mean, your wife is right outside there.” I gestured in the direction of the door.

He gave a slight smile and said, “My wife can never be a problem.”

“What does that even mean?” I queried.

“Just take it like that,” he said. “My wife can never be a problem. She understands.”

I was nonplussed and still very distrustful of the situation. You have to understand: in 2016, all I ever knew about the marriages of gay men was that the wife is unsuspecting – and that when she finds out, all hell breaks loose. The few married gay men I’d hooked up with went to great lengths to preserve the secrecy of our sexcapades from their spouses.

So this man telling me “my wife can never be a problem” just wasn’t making any sense to me. All I could think about was Cynthia suddenly barging into the room and catching us in the act. And in a town this small, her outrage would resonate. Flashes of Nduka and I getting dragged around, naked and full of humiliation, by a mob of homophobes darted through my mind, strengthening my resolve.

“No, please,” I maintained. “I simply can’t have sex with you in this house.”

Nduka sighed. He looked forlorn, but I didn’t care. He shouldn’t have brought me here.

He asked if I could at least help him jerk off. I agreed, willingly helping with his arousal as he wanked until he came. At some point during all this, I’d gotten an erection and he noticed. So he begged me to let him sit on my dick. This I reluctantly acquiesced to, and he promptly positioned himself on my dick and began to ride me.

But the discomfort I was still feeling wouldn’t let me sustain the erection, and I kept getting flaccid. He wanted to keep going, but I told him to get off. He told me that he wanted to see me cum, so I wanked for him, until I came. Then we wiped ourselves off with a towel.

As we slid back into bed, I reached for my boxers. He told me to leave it.

“Let’s just sleep naked,” he said, his eyes pleading.

And against my better judgment, I allowed myself to be persuaded. And we soon slept off, both of us naked.

In the morning, he went to the door and unbolted it. But when he tried to open it, it was locked. Apparently, Cynthia had locked us in from the other side.

He called out to her. “Honey! Honey!” When we heard her respond, he said, “Biko, bia gbakpere anyi uzo.”

(Translation: Please come and open the door for us.)

Moments later (I was back in my boxers by this time), there was a click in the keyhole and the door opened. Cynthia entered the room, looking very cheerful.

“Good morning… Good morning…” she greeted warmly. “How was your night?”

You know when somebody asks you how your night was, when you know that they know exactly what you’d been up to the night in question? Well, Cynthia had that same knowing look. And it was so weird, so fucking weird.

It was after I’d had my bath and joined her in the dining room where breakfast was served, that she said very quietly to me, “I hope you made him happy.”

I stared at her, feeling the same tide of shock and unease I felt the previous night when she told me to go join her husband in the bedroom.

“I don’t understand,” I blurted out.

That wry smile came on her face again, and she repeated, “I hope you made our husband happy.”

It was at this point that I finally understood what Nduka meant when he said that his wife would never be a problem. It became very, very clear to me that this woman knew her husband and knew exactly what I’d come to her house to do with her husband.

I felt heat suffuse my face and my mind flailed for something intelligible to say. I found myself mumbling that I didn’t know what she was talking about.

I mean: Jeezuz! I was sitting at the dining table with a WIFE WHO KNOWS! My heart started pounding and I began to feel clammy with cold sweat.

Sensing my growing agitation, she said soothingly, “Don’t worry. You shouldn’t be scared. Everything is alright.”

Instead of feeling reassured by this, my discomfort quadrupled. I suddenly wanted to leave this house at once. I hurried through my breakfast and went to Nduka to let him know that I was ready to go. He told me to calm down, that I shouldn’t be in a hurry to leave. He’d expected us to spend some more time together before I leave in the afternoon. I told him that wouldn’t be possible, lying that I had classes to get back to in school. He said he couldn’t go out to drop me at the park, that I’d have to take public transport. I was very okay with that.

I got dressed up and retrieved my bag. I said a quick goodbye to Cynthia and didn’t even let Nduka know that I was leaving. It wasn’t until I was at the junction that I saw his car pull up beside me. he got down and walked over to me, looking bewildered.

“Ah-ah, you just left like that without telling me,” he said. “You didn’t even wait to collect transport. What happened? Why are you running from me? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything bad to you?” He looked confused and sad.

“No, you didn’t do anything bad to me,” I said. “I just don’t feel comfortable in your house.”

“Why?”

“Well, mainly because it seems like your wife knows exactly who you are. And you never told me this. You put me in a very awkward situation.”

He frowned as he said, “That’s not your business. Is it my wife you came to see or me you came to see?”

I bristled at this, but didn’t respond accordingly. Instead, I said with exaggerated contrition, “Okay o. Sorry o. Be that as it may, I don’t involve myself in such arrangements. I just want to go home.”

He urged me to take the money he was offering for my transport. I took it. It was ten thousand naira. I pocketed the money and went on my way.

After then, Nduka would chat me up periodically to ask when I’d come to see him again. Frankly, I was no longer interested; the experience with his wife had weirded me out to the extent I simply didn’t want to see him anymore. So I always declined his invitations with excuses. Eventually, he must have gotten tired of my rejections, because I didn’t hear from him in a long time. It wasn’t until when it occurred to me to write this story that I checked for his profile to see that he had unfriended me.

I admire that for whatever reason, he is in the minority of married gay men whose wives know; whether he told her before or during their marriage or she found out and made her peace with it, I had time to think about that visit and to appreciate the love and support Cynthia evidently had for her husband. I will never forget that question she asked me: I hope you made him happy.

It was at once sad and beautiful that she not only had recognised that there were ways she could never make her husband happy, that only someone else – a guy – could, but that she was also okay with it and actively sought for that happiness to come for her husband.

I just wish Nduka had been upfront with me about this situation and not let me wander into it and find out the way I did. That was quite the scarring experience.

Written by Quincy

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  1. Zoar
    February 08, 06:51 Reply

    Hmmmmmm

    Now this is new and mysterious 😳🥺😟

    What must have happened for Cynthia to be at Peace with this sort of arrangement?
    There must be a very interesting story to that that’s waiting to be told.

    And it is cruel for Nduka to involve any innocent guy on this sort of arrangement without their Prior notice. No guy will be comfortable with that no matter how unbothered his wife seem to be appear.

    This is really strange.

    • Joe
      February 08, 20:47 Reply

      Honestly speaking,no guy will be comfortable with that arrangement.

      • No guy
        February 08, 21:40 Reply

        You’re absolutely right, you and Zoar. I will not be comfortable with that arrangement.

  2. Lopez
    February 08, 07:31 Reply

    What did I just read? Yesu mai tsarki. True Zoar, no guy will be comfortable under that roof.

  3. Mandy
    February 08, 07:48 Reply

    Quincy, you sha, you were brave oh! The couple was just giving me ritualist vibes. That time the wife said I should goan join her husband in the room would be when I’d rise up and run for my life. That Nduka didn’t try at all. He should have prepared you for this. He can’t say it’s none of your business when you are in his house expected to shag somebody’s husband. Of course it is very much your business to know that the wife is not potentially adding poison to the food she’s going to serve you.

    • Delle
      February 08, 11:49 Reply

      Oh Mandy!😂😂😂😂

      Your paranoia is gradually gobbling Francis’ up

    • Francis
      February 08, 19:30 Reply

      🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 Relass collect penis oh. No allow paranoia spoil show for you 🤭🤭

      See me waiting for acid baff 🤣🤣🤣

      Nduka no try at all. If I ever saw myself in this kain situation up till the very end Na to collect the woman number for gist later. This one peculiar gaan.

      • No guy
        February 08, 21:45 Reply

        I swear, in my mind I was the OP and I had collected Cynthia’s number before leaving the house.

  4. Dillish
    February 08, 07:54 Reply

    Omo!!

    I’d react the same way too if I was kept in the dark.

    By the way, was it a sienna vehicle?😏

    • Quincy
      February 08, 08:38 Reply

      I will not answer your question in Jesus name.

  5. Dunder
    February 08, 08:26 Reply

    A hotel room away from his kids and the help would have been in order no matter what interesting arrangement the couple has. Children are not too young to remember later.

    I am glad you survived this second wife set-up. My guess is that sometimes, women with men who can’t love them that way may feel so incompetent and unsatisfied that they’ll take up any role to get noticed by their partners. She didn’t have to be the one seeing to your bath and breakfast or ushering you to her bedroom considering that her husband is not quadriplegic but it is the closest she is going to get to an orgasm so she has to settle for being a fly on the wall- like she is willing herself into thinking the bathroom and dinning are somehow an extension of the master’s bedroom. I don’t mean to go dark but it’s like the women who assist their serial killer husbands to assault and kill other women so they stay needed or noticed in the eyes of their men. That’s why she asked about “our husband”- she is trying to qualify as a wife too.

    We’re woke here so I won’t ask if your destiny is still intact or you had to go to MFM to retrieve it. But have you been having weird dreams since 2016? 😆

    • Pink Panther
      February 08, 08:31 Reply

      🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Your comment escalated very fast. Damn.

    • Quincy
      February 08, 08:41 Reply

      I’m glad I walked away completely.

      My destiny is intact, dear. I can only imagine several other nasty things that could have happened to me.

      • Joe
        February 08, 20:42 Reply

        Sounds unbelievable.Mehn!!!

        • Mandy
          February 08, 20:49 Reply

          Because its not the “normal” thing that happens with married gay men, abi?

          Well, guess what, dear homosexual, your existence is proof that those things we’re not used to happen all the time.

    • Jay Armstrong
      February 08, 08:52 Reply

      LMFAO!

      Points were made. But hian x10! I doubt this case was that deep.

  6. Mitch
    February 08, 08:28 Reply

    A certain Petrol and her Kry-ing husband came to mind while reading this.

    Lavender marriage at its finest! 😂

  7. Jay Armstrong
    February 08, 08:42 Reply

    If it was me in this story, rest assured it’ll have taken a very different trajectory.

    #blessedunion

  8. Yusuf
    February 08, 09:08 Reply

    Lol ikon allah, this is the weirdest story I’ve read since joining this community. It’s kinda hot ‘ our husband ‘ hehehehehehe. But I totally get the vibe you were getting, God, I’d piss my pants from all the nerves. God!!!!!

    • Iremide
      February 08, 14:45 Reply

      I swear you Yusuf…

      He even get mind to sleep over, me no get that mind Na that same day I go jog out of the house… 😂 😂 😂

    • Sayyed
      February 09, 00:24 Reply

      Hahahaa Wlh kuwa, I’m not brave enough to spend a night in that house talkies of having an erection

  9. Bewildered
    February 08, 11:48 Reply

    Very real.
    Happened to a pal.

    He got intimate with a guy who’s gf found them in bed. She couldn’t return cos it was late and had to sleep on the same room with the two men.

    Both who now had sex with her and each other.

    Humanity ehn… We are one kain!

    • No guy
      February 08, 21:48 Reply

      Now that’s how you mix a “cocktale”.

  10. Fairy boi
    February 08, 12:25 Reply

    If you see the way my heart is pounding just from reading this awkward story, heeey! oboy i no get that liver anxiety will melt me there and then.
    Poster u try oo.

    I just kindda felt sorry for the wife

    • trystham
      February 09, 18:56 Reply

      Like!!!! In my head, I kept saying ‘poor woman’

  11. Realme
    February 08, 14:31 Reply

    This story
    This wife
    This woman!!!!!
    Everything with her is extremely odd

  12. Calmly
    February 08, 14:41 Reply

    😮 😮 😮 this is a myth…

    I was reading this my mind was just telling that “this guy have enter ritualist hand and I was praying in my mind for your escape.

    This you just gave is beautiful and mysterious.

    Please keep having more experience and come and be telling us here… Heart your experience.

  13. Ken
    February 08, 19:02 Reply

    Obviously fiction. Lol

    • Pink Panther
      February 08, 20:38 Reply

      Obviously? How is it “obviously” fiction? Because it’s a story you can’t relate to?

      Lol. The way some of you use your own experiences to dismiss other people’s lives is just ridiculous.

  14. bamidele
    February 08, 21:24 Reply

    Wow! Quincy,
    I see myself in you. I would have felt the same way, if not worse. I always like issues to be clarified and straight forward. Nduka should have hinted you from time to time, and I’m surprised at the way he answered your questions and curiosity with short sentences. He makes the whole thing complicated. I respect the wife; only a few women would tolerate such a (gay) husband.

  15. trystham
    February 09, 18:55 Reply

    Your own is 2016? My own just last year ó. I very nearly shat in my pants when the wife knocked and wanted to pick diaper in the room we were in. The unku was now introducing me to his mother-in law…aaahhhhhh (as friend of course). Omo, I had thought he was joking then the whole thing was looking like reality. It didn’t even help that he was saying that he never went to his hookups place, always bringing them home. I felt so dirty afterwards.

    • Pink Panther
      February 09, 21:25 Reply

      Its the “I felt so dirty afterwards” for me. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

      Why on earth would you feel that way biko?

  16. trystham
    February 09, 21:56 Reply

    I felt like a stain to his matrimonial bed. You know how very much against MGMs I am. I felt like an enabler for very bad habits.

  17. Tristan
    February 15, 11:03 Reply

    What if Cynthia is lesbian and in an arranged marriage with him? She probably brings in her lesbian friends too. Well, whatever makes them happy.

  18. Audrey
    February 16, 20:41 Reply

    I had a near experience sometime in 2015, met dude online and we chatted and chatted till he asked that I came to Warri to see him. I knew dude was married oh but I wasn’t expecting the shocker I met when I got there.

    I arrived Warri at about past 5 and uncle came to the park to pick me(Nigga worked with one of the oil companies) and we proceeded to his house. I thought his wife was out of town but alas I was wrong because the moment I stepped foot into his sitting room the wife called out to him.

    Apparently the wife was to travel to Canada the next day so she was leaving for Lagos that night and was only waiting for him to go pick up some items from a friends place for her so immediately we got in uncle left me with madam and dashed out…..I nearly died.
    After exchanging pleasantries and some awkward minutes of silence aunty started asking me some personal questions and when I told her my state of origin her countenance dropped and the following conversation ensued.

    Madam: Where are you from?
    Me: I’m from ******
    Madam: Hmmmm….Even you my brother, so a fine and promising young man like you is into this thing? Nawa oh
    Me: (With my chest pounding) I don’t understand Ma.
    Madam: Please quit the pretense cos I know you are here to fuck my husband but it’s fine. The good thing is that you all can never get pregnant so nobody can come tomorrow to kick me out of my husband’s house.
    Me:(Already scared) I’m sorry Ma I didn’t know he was married
    Madam: it’s ok just enjoy yourself and try not to get addicted to it and he really does like you cos he actually stood me up just to come pick you. It doesn’t happen too often. He gives between 40-50k, use the fact that you know that he likes you to get something better and please don’t allow him fuck you on my matrimonial bed.

    Then the husband car drives in and the discussion ends. Uncle walks in and looks at me like he’d expected me to tell him something but I feign ignorance. When she was about going to be dropped by the driver she asked that I helped carry one of her small bags to the car and as I dropped it she whispered this exact words BRACE YOURSELF FOR WHAT IS TO COME COS UCHE DOESN’T CUM QUICK then she got into the car and left. Make I rest small I dey come

    • Francis
      February 17, 11:01 Reply

      😳😳 Coman finish what you started oh! Somebody about to be brutalized 🤣😂

    • Mikkiyfab
      February 21, 15:40 Reply

      Osheyyyyy.
      Please finish it ooooo please. It is the advice for me o 😂😂😂😂😂uche is a stallion brace yasef moi dear.😂😂😂😂

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