My hubby and I are not on talking terms. I found out he’s been cheating on me, and we are just a year plus into our marriage. Before God and man, if someone had told me this man was capable of cheating, I swear I would never accept or believe it. In fact, people have said he could be cheating since he’s extremely wealthy, but I denied it. I was sure he’d never do such a thing. This man acts so disciplined. Fast forward to four months ago, one of his girlfriends called me to warn me. Omo, I was dumbfounded. Between me and her, who suppose vex? I just told her, “Okay o,” and asked her to give me details of their relationship. She did, and I confronted my husband about it, and this man didn’t even act remorseful. The next thing, he was trying to sweet-talk me. I got angry and left the room for another. He got me new gadgets and some other luxury items but never said he was sorry. Now I’m beginning to remember how much this man loves sex. He used to fuck me everywhere before I got pregnant.
Where didn’t we have sex? In the car, on the balcony, in the kitchen, the shower, the couch, a restaurant restroom—just name it. Since I got pregnant, all the fun died. So it’s obvious he’s getting it elsewhere. I guess I was too in denial to believe it. I never used to like s€x as much as I do now, but because of him, I crave it. He was my first and still is. I’m five months postpartum and haven’t had sex for the past nine months. A girl is angry. A girl wants to be fucked hard. A girl wants to be punished with sex. A girl misses her man, but a girl cannot beg. Now, I regret leaving the room. Maybe we would have had a chance. But why would he do that to me? I miss my man. I miss his D. It aches me that one girl is somewhere enjoying my thing. I just want to cry.
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