A woman should be faithful, should be submissive, and should endure all that is being done to her. If you listen to this trash of advice, you are going to lead a very miserable life. Can a married woman have a boyfriend? Hell yes, I am enjoying my life? But you know what? I have not always been like this.
Can a married woman have a boyfriend? A prologue to Eros
I reply to a naughty chat one of my side cocks sent me. I laughed out loud at his bragging. Not bad, I say to myself. It’s great that tomorrow is Saturday. I will dump my kids with my mum and go have some baby girl time.
I smile in happiness as I lay on my bed and reminisce. This is the life, I say to myself. Freedom has never been sweeter and this is how I feel.
I get off of my bed to have a scented shower. I go into the bathroom and as I mix my essential oils, their aroma fills the room and I inhale greedily, glorying in its essence. This is what I like most about my hookups and sex dates. The slow process and consciousness that surrounds preparing myself like an Egyptian bride, primping my body for a night of passionate eros, and the intense skincare routine that leaves my skin feeling supple.
I pour my oil mix into the warm water in the tub and sprinkle some flowers. With my hands, I lower myself into the water-filled tub, stretch my body and let out a hmm of comfort. I feel my muscles unknotting. I feel dizzy and lay my head on the edge of the tub.
I hear shouts and I wake up with a jolt, I look around frantically and realize it’s my husband shouting. I wonder what he is shouting about, he bellows my name and I answer from the bathroom.
Can a married woman have a boyfriend? And If I am?
He stomps into the bathroom and I see my phone in his hands. Ouch, I say to myself.
He thrusts the phone out to me, What is this? Are you cheating on me? Disbelief is written all over his face with slight traces of fear.
“If I am, wrong what is wrong with it?
“It’s a yes or no question, are you fucking cheating on me.
“Yes, I am, and so? I close my eyes, still feeling sleepy. I intend to finish this scented bath.
I can hear his heavy breathing and next, he is spouting insults and calling me names. “You are a shameless woman, you are a fool, a bad wife, an idiot. I married you and you dare cheat on me. You will leave my house. I will send you back to your father’s house”.
Suddenly I am tired and do not want to be in his presence again. I lift myself from the tub. I can see the lustful look that flashed through his eyes. I catch his eyes and I smile knowingly. I slowly stretch my hands to take the towel off the rail.
As I wrap the towel around my body, I maintain eye contact with him. His gaze is affixed to my body.
I step out and say to him, “first to do no dey pain. The golden rule says do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Do whatever you want because I don’t care”.
I strode out of the bathroom into my room.
In my heart, there is a welling of satisfaction that made me smile hard. This was it, I served him breakfast and served it properly.
It was not like this at first.
Can a married woman have a boyfriend? Painfully ever after
Eight years ago, I was the starry-eyed twenty-six-year-old woman that believed in happily ever after. Meeting my husband made me look at life through rose-tinted glasses. I believed I had met my soul mate.
We got married and I had my first child in the euphoria of being a married woman.
Taking care of a child, running a job and taking care of the home took their toll on me. It was a herculean task. My husband was not willing to lend a hand so I shouldered it like the virtuous woman I thought I was. What do I get in return? Finding out my husband was cheating on me when I was pregnant with my second child. I cried my eyes out, I abhorred cheating. I confronted him over it and he confessed to cheating on me way before we got married. Who pulled the wool over my eye?
I had my second child, and my weight undesirably increased due to stress. Unattractive and overweight. The man I married was not helping issues. He became a per time husband, only coming home to change his clothes.
In my fifth year of marriage. I was at home one day, looking at my kids. I was sad, lonely and angry. I asked myself if this was how I would continue living my life. That was a lightbulb moment for me, I decided to be happy. I had placed my happiness on another and what I got was sorrow. I would live my life, I was determined to.
It was going to take a lot of work to have the life I dreamed but I was willing. I would do anything to be happy.
Secure a thousand bag
The first thing I did was increase my earning power. My husband had always been kind enough to provide for the house adequately but refused to get me a helper. I decided was going to get help because I was tired of the chores. I took more certifications and got a better job. I learnt the importation business and started importing hot products that women would like.
It was not easy doing all these things but grit and determination made all the difference. I was making thrice my previous salary.
I got the help and got some respite. My husband raised hell over it but I ignored him.
Next, I focused on myself. I desired to go back to my size ten but I had to shed weight. I enrolled myself in a gym and started exercising. I was intentional every step of the way. I changed my diet and got into making positive affirmations all in a bid to reprogram my mindset and regain my self-esteem. I also did some vaginal exercises. I wanted a banging body and I was going to get it by all means.
Investing in skincare products was the next line of action, got myself into a routine of massaging my skin with essential oils and scents. I loved every bit of the process. By the seventh year of my marriage, I had achieved all I desired.
Can a married woman have a boyfriend? The dream
I took myself out and started going places. I would play dress up and randomly go dine in a restaurant. It was a heady feeling. So this was what I had been missing for years now.
I went on a shopping spree and gave my wardrobe a new look; Body fitting corporate gowns appropriate for work, bomb shorts and bikinis, skimpy gowns and tops. You just name it, I got shoes, new wigs, and a new makeup set.
Wherever I went, I turned heads, rediscovering myself was a nice experience.
Most times I would have sexual needs and my husband would claim he is too tired. I was tired of asking for something that was supposed to happen naturally. I was tired of being neglected. It took me a long time to decide to get the love I need outside.
I had my first extramarital affair outside, it was thrilling. I told my husband I was travelling for a work conference. I went with my boyfriend to a hotel and lodged there. I had a mad weekend of fun.
Ever since then, I have availed myself of pleasure. I have two boyfriends I am consistent with. What is between us is just sex and it’s wonderful.
I just recently met a new catch, we are currently sexting and he is making big statements about how he would wear me out. I like his threats and hope he lives up to his promises because all our sexting has me in knots. I love the delayed gratification, I will get my chocolate candy tomorrow and be satisfied.
Can a married woman have a boyfriend? Karma served cold
I met my husband the next day sitting on the couch in the sitting room.
I go drop my kids off and come back inside to meet him on the same spot.
I go inside to have a refreshing bath, wore my skimpiest gown and packed an overnight bag. I apply a bit of makeup; some winged eyebrows that bring out my eyes. Some red lipstick that gives me a sultry look. I drown myself in an aromatic scent, one that would make my date go crazy. I check myself in the mirror and find out I am looking every inch the hot baby mama that I am.
I step out into the sitting room to meet my husband.
I ignore him and make my way out. His voice halts me in my tracks.
“Don’t go meet that man.”
“You don’t have the right to tell me that”, I retort.
“If you go and meet that man, that is the end of our marriage”.
“So be it”, I say without looking over my shoulder, never again would I relinquish control to him.
I get into my car and head over to the hotel.
Checkmate…. And game over
After two days, I am back home. I head into his room, he is lying on his back on the bed.
“These are divorce papers. I need you to sign them”.
He jerks up from the bed, snatches them and brings them out of the file in unbelief. He stares at them for a while and shakes his head in disbelief.
“Stop what you are doing and let us work on our marriage, it will affect our kids”, he says.
“I should stop what I am doing? I can’t. I am not interested in working on any marriage. I lost interest in this sham of a marriage when you were busy chasing everything in a skirt. The kids have gotten used to your absence so this won’t make any difference.
He looked defeated but I did not give a hoot. He can go fuck himself. I will get that divorce because I am done.
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