I had always wondered what it would be like to have an affair, and even spent a lot of time fantasizing about it. I never planned on actually doing it, being a happily married man and all, but felt it did not hurt to let my mind play over the idea. I would sometimes lay in bed as my wife snored gently beside me, wondering what it would be like to, just once, have the feel of another woman after all these years. It did not matter what this other woman looked like (though it was imperative that she be attractive to an extent), what mattered was the thrill of doing such a thing.
It was not that I was one of those discontented married men who seek to make up for what they felt was missing from their lives in the arms of young girls. On the contrary, I was pretty certain that I had it all; that my life was complete and as perfect as any man would want. I had a really good job which afforded me to live in comfort, a beautiful and understanding wife, a pair of wonderful kids (a boy and a girl)… what more could a man ask for? But that was the problem, I guess: my life was too perfect; too complete…so much so that I was beginning to feel bored!
Of course the idea of going into an extra-marital affair was just something I fantasized about, and as thrilling as the thought was, it was not something I ever planned to do… that is, until I met Clara.
I ran into her one chilly harmattan evening at a pharmacy where I had gone to pick up some cough syrup for the younger of my kids. As I reached for the last box of the brand of cough syrup I favoured, a hand snaked past me and snatched it away.
“I was getting that first.” I could not hide my anger as I swung round to face the offender, who turned out to be a woman.
“Am sorry,” she said in that way women do when they are certain they would get away with something, and she patted my exposed wrist in a pacifying manner.
Her touch at once sent a frisson of excitement down my spine, which silenced any objections I had been about to utter. She must have felt my reaction too, because at that very instant her eyes locked unto mine, wide with sudden awareness. The moment passed. I nodded sheepishly and she sashayed away, leaving me to tackle with the decision of what other brand of cough syrup to purchase, a decision made tougher by the fact that my mind kept playing back that brief moment and my reaction to her simple touch.
Now that’s the sort of woman I would love to have an affair with, the thought sprang into my mind unbidden, shocking me.
I quickly smothered it and rushed to pay for the syrup I had blindly chosen. I was thankful that the woman had left but that gratitude was short-lived as she was hovering outside the doors of the drug store, no doubt waiting for me.
“Am really sorry about my behavior back there,” she smiled shyly at me. “It’s just that this is the only brand of cough syrup I use and…”
“No, it’s nothing… don’t worry about it,” I was quick to assure her.
“Ok. Thank you.”
Apologies having been made and accepted, I expected her to go on her way so I could take my leave too, but she remained standing there, that shy smile still fluttering across her face. I got a real good look at her then. Truth be told, she was a very good looking woman—tall, ebony-skinned and voluptuously curved.
“Can I have your phone number?” I blurted out much to my own astonishment.
“Oh, of course,” she said with no hesitation, making me realize that that was what she had been waiting for. She must have expected this after the little moment we had shared back in the pharmacy.
Later that night, as I lay awake in bed beside my wife, I told myself that I was never going to call her, that I had only asked for her number out of politeness. But the next day after work, I called her and just like that, we set up a date which was to be the first in a long line of clandestine dates. It turned out that, like me, she was married, but unlike me, had no kids yet. Her husband was abroad and their marriage was just a year old.
“Bosun,” she had said to me on our first date. “Am lonely… so lonely.”
“So am I,” I said even though it was not true.
We had sex together for the first time right on that first date and, my, what an experience it turned out to be! It was everything I had fantasized about and more. Clara approached coitus with the voracity of a woman who has not had the luxury of such for a long time, a voracity which was very much appreciated by me. In simple terms, she was pretty good in bed and was willing to do just about anything to make it an exciting experience for both of us. What I had imagined would be just a one-night stand became protracted into something much longer, as I found myself going back to her arms night and night again (usually once a week) for her special brew of magic.
Sometimes, I caught myself comparing her to my wife, maybe as a sort of justification for what I was doing, thinking that if only Salewa was capable of approaching sex the way this woman did, I would not have been in that situation. Though she was nowhere near the woman Salewa was in just about everything, looks and intelligence included, Clara was far more experienced in the bedroom. There was also an element of unpredictability about her; I never could guess what she would want to do next during any of our illicit meetings. Once on her suggestion, we had sex on the beach and the thought of being caught at it only served to intensify the thrill of the act, making it the most memorable sex I had ever had.
But like all good things, or rather, bad things, it was bound to come to an end. And that end came into view when Clara began to catch feelings, like is to be expected of a woman. She began to tell me she loved me at every opportunity she got (and I always had to return a similar response not because I felt that way, but because I felt I had to). I liked Clara a lot, but love? No way! I was already in love with one woman, my wife, and there was no space in my heart for another. What we were doing was completely different from love; we were both just adult animals exploring our sexuality. Why was it always difficult for women to separate sex from love? Why did it always have to be interwoven for them?
At first, I did not see the danger in her falling in love with me, if anything, I liked the idea for it seemed to make our relationship more pleasurable. She strove to please me more in bed and the list of things she would do to keep my interest locked down increased. But as time went on, things began to get unpleasant. She became jealous of my wife and seemed to resent the time I spent with her and the kids. She also kept saying how nice it would have been if we had both met each other before either of our spouses. To top it off, she texted me one night, telling me how strongly she was contemplating divorcing her husband.
I knew the affair had to come to an end then and wasted to time in seeing to it. In fact it turned out to be an easy step for me. I had had my fun; I had had the affair which I’d always fantasized about and it had proven to be everything I expected, but now it was time to end the game.
Of course, it was not as easy for her as it was for me. She cried and begged me not to leave her and asked if there was anything she was not doing right. “I will do anything you want me to, I swear,” she begged me. And as if to prove that statement, she dropped to her knees and began to unzip my pants in an effort to perform oral sex on me, knowing this was something I never could resist. But at that moment my resolve was steely and nothing could bend it. Pulling her back to her feet, I shook my head reproachfully and issued that classic break up line: “It’s not you, Clara; it’s me…”
Need I say the whole process of breaking up with Clara was a very messy affair? What else can one expect when a woman of such passionate nature is involved? She went through the whole gamut of emotions—from beseeching to fury, and threatened to make my life hell if I left her. But I remained unmoved; to me, those were just empty threats. And even if they were not, I had taken insurances against such actions right form the beginning of the affair. I had made sure she knew next to nothing about me, keeping away from her details of my life like where I worked, where I lived and so on. Even the phone number with which I communicated with her was not real my real number and the moment I left the hotel room after my last goodbye to her, I broke the SIM card and threw it away. Now she had no way of contacting me or ever seeing me again. Our little affair was indeed and truly over, whether she liked it or not.
Two weeks later, as I lounged in my living room with my young son lying on my lap, I let my mind play over the whole incidence for the umpteenth time, rehashing every detail in my mind with relish. Indeed, I could say now that I truly have a perfect life – my little adventure into adultery proved it better than anything else could.
For a man to truly appreciate what he’s got, he has to have a taste of what is out there, I told myself.
I had done that, I had my thrill—a taste of excitement on the side—and as spicily delicious as it had been, it was nothing compared to the whole perfection I already possessed in the form of my wife and kids.
A light touch on my shoulder pulled me out of my reverie. I looked up to see my wife Salewa smiling down at me, as angelically beautiful as ever. “Honey,” she said to me, her voice like music to the ears. “Remember I told you I ran into one of my long lost cousins at the market days ago and invited her over for lunch today.”
“Yes, you did,” I replied absentmindedly.
“Well, she’s here.” She moved out of the way to reveal the woman standing behind her. “Meet my cousin, Clara.”
Author’s name: Shadiat Shoyombo
Country of residence: Nigeria
Bio: Shadiat is a Nigerian lady who has been writing for some time now and has published an e-book. Growing up in the city of Lagos, where anything can and does happen, has given her a wealth of experience which is reflected in her stories.