Ngozi stood at the door mouth of the bedroom, staring at them with eyes that spelt disbelief. They were so busy that she was unnoticed. She had silently opened the the main door and had stealthily tiptoed into the bedroom. She had returned home to give him heightened satisfaction, to make his day off work pleasurable. She had handed all matters concerning the day’s work to her Personal Assistant in the office, and was home now. But then, he, her husband, was very busy, or, they were very busy.
“No one does it better than you Stanley, no one” Nnamdi, Ngozi’s husband, whisper-yelled in between moans.
Ngozi wrinkled her face in disgust, tears running freely from her eyes as she watched her husband grunting in the painful pleasure of his friend’s thrusts from behind. She watched him drag at the sheets of their matrimonial bed, yearning for more. She opened her mouth, but her words remained stuck in her throat. He, Nnamdi, was the man she prided before her friends as the most faithful man in the world, the man she tagged one of a kind, and the man whose sweetness she bragged about. He was the same man before her very eyes, naked as the day he was born, and grunting under the thrusts of a man like himself!
It was too much for her to take in. Her vision gradually blurred, and her legs gradually lost strength. She slowly lost her stance, until her body finally kissed the floor as she fainted.