Before I throw you into this quite disorganized story, I want you to know something you may not have had the chance to read about or hear about anywhere before.
For me, I believe people seldom talk about this, but trust me, it is with no doubt true.
There are three main pillars of lustful pleasures in the world that are most mighty: The lust of the flesh, the lust for material things, and that of power.
If you are not with the former, you must be found with the other or the latter, most people go with all three, some two; but what you should keep in mind is, we all have at least, one running in us all.
Anyone who said power was not addictive had never really experienced it.
And like power, the lust of the flesh, and material things are addictive.
I have tried to live my life the best way I can. I have tried to be good. I have convinced a lot of people that there are people who don’t drink, smoke, who are not promiscuous, who don’t gamble, and a lot more negative things you can count, and trust me, I was everyone’s favourite.
I can assure you, I can’t be tempted with money, I don’t pride myself around or acting like I’m on top of the world, but I love ladies and a lot of them; although no one knew.
I tried my best to fight the goddess of promiscuity, and for years I had been leading the fight.
A good figure eight freaks me: I mean, sometimes, I can’t help but turn around to see a good shape. But all of the sins usually end in my imagination. I was fighting against promiscuity.
One time, Kemi, my wife sat me down and told me my honesty was too profound, it was not anywhere else, but she was convinced that as a human being, we all have a sin we fight against, and more often then not, secretly commit. She asked if I was an Angel; I told her I was a mere human, that being honest and trustworthy can be chosen.
But a day came when I had to bite my own fingers, and it bled.
I’d been so attracted to Folake, my wife’s best friend, but I have tried my best to stay in my lane. Although one time, I played with her in my imagination, and rebuked it.
After a long time, I trained my mind to always see her as a sister, but, my reader, opportunity really makes the thief.
One time before Christmas in 2009, I was supposed to return from work very early. My wife told me she would be traveling with the kids and I’d be home alone.
I vaguely thought it was free time for me to be at peace alone, because inasmuch as I love my family, I am quite a loner. I love being the only one in a room—maybe because I am a writer.
So I came home tired. For the first time since the last time my wife left for village, I just came home and slept on the floor of my sitting room with my limbs sprawling like a starfish.
Few seconds after I took a deep sigh of relief, I heard a knock on my door. I froze, wondering who the hell wanted to steal my peace away. “Who’s there?” I asked, peering at the door angrily.
“It’s me, Folake.”
Listen, dear reader, before God and man, I had no intentions of opening that door, because na “good morning” de bring “how are you?”
“Your Friend traveled oh, she didn’t tell you?” I asked from inside the house. And at this time, the door was still locked.
“I know, she asked me to give you something,” she said from the other side.
“Oh, okay. What’s that?” I was still being very careful, I knew my limits.
“Ah ah, Ken, at least, open door nah.”
At this point, I’d be unfair not to open the door, so I opened it.
Trust me, there was no human being in my shoes who would have been able to overcome the well seasoned lady in front of me.
She entered, but I still held back my mature stupidity. I let her have a seat, and as any gentleman would, I got her water and sat opposite her waiting for what she had to deliver to me.
She didn’t even drink the water before she started acting coquettish. Seduction started.
Mumu me, like Lasisis Elenu would say, didn’t give myself a chance to fight against the temptation. As soon as she emphasised on “your wife is not around nah,” I gave in.
But my sense began to trip off and on. I tried to hold her back at some point, but she said, “Ken, hold on, we’re not killing anybody, besides, there’s no way your wife will find out.”
Words can do wonders.
As soon as I wanted to rush her, I heard. “Weldon! Ken.” It was my wife’s voice.
I threw Folake off me, and knelt down to beg my wife. I noticed Foluke was laughing endlessly, and in I while, it dawned on me that I had been setup by the both of them.
And, of course, my wife believed that I’d been cheating with other ladies uncaught. But I’d never really cheated because I’ve always tried to be moral.
My reader, be the judge of this, if this had scattered our family, who was the cause?
Leave a comment, I’ll show my wife.