LETTERS TO MY FUTURE HUSBAND (Entry 6)

Dear Future Husband,

I haven’t written you in awhile. I apologize. Although, given the circumstances of my budding relationship with Jackson – you know, Jackson whose acquaintance I made via the lesbian friends I made in Uyo, yes, him – given the spark between us, I may have already met you, Future Hubby.

The events of the other weekend will forever stay with me. First of all, I was home from work. I’d poured myself a drink and was seated before my favorite TV show. This was the day before my planned getaway with Jackson. I had packed my 5kg bag, and now I was pondering Alhaji’s proposal when I met with him two days ago. He’d asked me to travel with him for a cousin’s wedding in three weeks. I should have been excited but I wasn’t. I hadn’t met any of his friends since we broke up three years ago nor have I kept in touch with any one we knew when we were together, not to mention my former colleagues at his office. When he asked, my outright answer was No. But he got very persuasive and so I conceded to thinking about it. It didn’t help that he sweetened the proposal by saying he’d pay for my shopping of an outfit. (*sigh*) The man doesn’t play fair.

And so, there I was, before the TV, thinking about it. What if Alhaji was trying to woo me again? Was that what I wanted – to go back to him? And how would I reintegrate myself into our circle of acquaintances? None of our old friends knew why we broke up. What would I say to them? What would be my story?

Then I found myself thinking about Jackson, about during our talks, we had opened up to each other about our pasts and the people in our lives. He knows about Alhaji, and now about Alhaji’s proposal. When I told him, he chuckled and said we’d talk about it when we meet the following day.

And about Jackson – I wasn’t just worried about Alhaji and the implication of his asking me to accompany him for the wedding; I was also worried about meeting Jackson. I knew he was nice and seemed perfect. But what if there was more I’d find out that I didn’t like? What if his table manners were horrible? What if he was hot tempered? What if he didn’t like to kiss or give good head? There are so many what ifs. Emeka and Joseph had advised that I shouldn’t expect much, but knowing me, I expect a lot from people, especially if I’m going to be seeing them often and be involved in their lives.

I dozed off on the couch, woke up at 5am, ran my bath and did a last minute checklist. Jackson and I would be spending three days together in Owerri Town. I’d heard the place is lively, with so many lovely sights and local delicacies. It was Jackson’s choice of a getaway. He’d drive down from Uyo to pick me up at the airport. He’d insisted on paying for the hotel bills, and we had to argue over his insistence on also taking care of my flight fare. I put my foot down biko. Hian! I’m not in for a 5k Bae drama. He wasn’t pleased by my stubbornness, but I wouldn’t budge. I don’t want ”so because I paid all the bills, open up your pussy for me”. Uh-uh! No way! I want to open the pussy at my own pleasure.

One thing I’d learned from my conversations with Jackson was that he likes to be in control and enjoys the power of caring for someone. I’m however not sure he understands that there are boundaries to calling the shots.

So I landed at the airport wearing my white shorts, knee-length gladiator suede sandals, a fedora black hat and a sweat shirt. I was looking chic, if I do say so myself. And oh dear, there he was by a black G wagon, all beige chinos trousers and black T-shirt. I felt my heart flutter with renewed desire for him. Could this be my man? Could this be you, dear Future Hubby?

He waved at me with a smile. I smiled and waved back. When we drew up to each other, I stretched out a hand, intending to shake his. But he drew me into a hug instead. Damn! I wanted to simply die right there in his arms. The embrace combined with the strength and musk of his body felt like heaven.

We left the airport and minutes later, we were at the hotel. Ensconced in the privacy of our room finally, we embraced again. This time, it was more prolonged and very sensual. We kissed too, and then moved to the bed, where we lay, cuddled, and talked and bantered. I liked that he didn’t put any moves on me outrightly. We had all the time during the weekend to do whatever we wanted to do with each other.

We went downstairs to the hotel dining room for lunch and drinks. Then his friend came over. His name is Enyinnaya, and he is bisexual. Jackson introduced me to him as his boyfriend.

His boyfriend! Oh dear!

The three of us retreated back to our room to watch a football match on TV. I don’t much care for football, but I know enough to contribute. When it was evening, we went with Enyinnaya to his club, a lounge in the heart of the town. We had a great time there. There was dancing and drinking.

We got back to our suite at midnight. Enyinnaya had wanted us to stay back, but Jackson and I wanted to be together all by ourselves. We showered and dove into the duvet, where we proceeded to cuddle and kiss until we slept off. It was in the early hours of the morning that we did it. He was gentle and attentive. He worked my legs and hips with frenzy, and had every muscle in my body humming a new hallelujah song. His dick was simply blessed – a well-curved, veined length of almost 10 inches.

By the time we were done, I felt thoroughly and deliciously loved-up.

Throughout the day we had, he was so fiercely fond and protective of me that Enyinnaya, who spent the day with us, even started teasing him about it. I didn’t mind. I liked how sheltered he made me feel.

It wasn’t until evening that I brought up the issue of Alhaji’s request. He promptly told me he wasn’t comfortable with me accompanying my ex to a function. He said he couldn’t make a decision about me going just yet, that I should give him time to decide, but that I should bear it in mind that he would likely forbid it. I told him I understood.

That evening, we went to Ibari Ogwa. Chimo! See local delicacies! There was a variety of things to eat. Thereafter, we went for a bit of sightseeing, with Enyinnaya acting as guide.

When we returned to our hotel room, I went into the bathroom to prepare for my bath when Jackson joined me, fully erect. He said he’d been trying all day not to think about how much he wanted me. Sex in the shower is always my guilty delight. We worked the shower, the dresser and finally the bed.

I was supposed to leave the next day. But the magic felt too soon to be left behind. So I postponed my departure and spent the entire day alone with Jackson in the suite. We were naked in bed, eating, drinking, having sex – just basically indulging every sinful pleasure there was.

So you see why, at the end of such an idyllic weekend, as I departed from Jackson with all the glow he put in me, why I was left believing that I had finally met You, Future Hubby.

I like him. He likes me. But there’s the issue of distance. I have enough reasons to be wary of long distance relationships. Jackson has a solution to it; he wants me to relocate and move in with him. But again, I am wary of another Alhaji episode.

Just in case You are him, Future Hubby, can you tell me what to do?

Your confused love

Awele