My name is Uche, I just had sex with a married man for the first time and I don’t know how to deal with the situation.
Ok, let me back up a bit. I’m a lawyer, living and working in Warri. He is also a Warri lawyer but he is my senior by far. That’s how Nigerian lawyers refer to older lawyers. Anyone called to the Nigerian Bar before you is your Learned Senior at the Bar. Anyway, he was around long before I entered the scene, but immediately he spotted me, he zeroed in on me. We met during my first year of practice as a litigation lawyer. [Read More: Sex for the First Time: 15 Essential Tips and Insights for Your First Experience
As an impressionable new wig¹, new in town and eager to learn, I saw him in court one day. I was blown away by his brilliant oratory skills as he held the court spellbound with his stellar final address on the case he was conducting. Sitting quietly among other young lawyers, I learnt his name that day — O. J. Okorocha.
A few weeks later, I ran into him at the Nigerian Bar Association (NBA) branch meeting where he was also holding sway on issues being tabled. He was so charismatic! I low-key started crushing on him then. I kept my distance though, because I am not one to famz², but fate had other plans.
The day I found myself in his car on the long drive from Isiokolo High Court to Warri, was the first day he actually took note of me. My senior and I from the office had finished our matter in court but she said we should wait to hitch a ride with lawyers going back to Warri instead of spending our meagre fare. She approached him as he came out of court and he waved us towards his car after she spoke to him. Incidentally, my senior alighted at Oviorie junction because she had somewhere else to be.
So there was I, riding shotgun with OJ, sniffing his perfume and looking out the window as the car glided through the winding roads. I can’t even remember what we talked about that day but I remember how my heart jumped when he asked for my phone number as we approached Warri. I also remember him calling me a know-know³ as I got out of his car at Airport Junction.
What followed was a sort of laid-back toasting⁴ period. He pursued me in a sort of lackadaisical manner and I cautiously watched his moves. I definitely told him I’m not into married men but he must have seen through my façade. Maybe he already knew I was nursing a little crush on him. I was thrilled by his interest and perhaps I didn’t do a good job of hiding it. I mean, he is a big fish in Warri’s relatively small legal pond and I was into that.
The months rolled by. We hung out sometimes. We had drinks. Ate grilled fish. Ate ram suya⁵. I billed him for nothing in particular and he kept paying money into my account per my requests.
“New shoes.”
“OK.”
“New Hair.”
“OK.”
“Birthday.”
“OK.”
He was paying.
“Babe when can we have a weekend together? “, he’d ask.
“The weekend after never”, I’d reply.
It was fun.
Sometimes we had dry spells. We wouldn’t talk for weeks. Then he’d pop up again.
“Solidas, Friday night?” he’d text, referring to a popular bar and grill.
“Why?” I’d text back.
“Plz naa⁶”, he’d beg.
“Okay, fine”.
And the fire would be lit again that night over drinks and good music.
We had a number of close calls too.
There was the time I went to his office at the close of business after his staff had left for the day. We had a short visit. I stood up to leave. In a flash, he had me backed up against the wall, kissing me urgently and ardently. Possessed by a sudden intense desire, I returned his kisses passionately, moaning into his mouth. I only came to my senses when he tried to unbutton my blouse. I jumped out of his arms and scurried out the door, heart pounding.
There was another time he pulled me towards him in his car. It was late. We were parked in a quiet street, a few feet away from a streetlight. He squeezed my full breasts and begged to see them. I hesitantly agreed and lifted my top. He stared poleaxed at my breasts spilling out of the sexily cut bra I was wearing. He then rested his head on my bosom. I stroked him for a few beats before I reminded him we had to leave that spot if he wanted to go home with his car. I mean, it’s Warri, anything can happen on a quiet street after dark.
After an attack of conscience, I backed off for a while. Someone had pointed out OJ’s wife to me at a Law function. She was a beautiful woman, easy-going and open, from what I could see. Seeing her made me feel some type of way about spending time with OJ so I screened his calls and ignored his texts. I focused on other things. Time flew by. By then, I had known him for over a year.
My lawyer friends told me I should register for the Bar Conference this year. They swore it would be fun. They swore it would be worth it. So I registered and joined the road trip to Abuja when the time came. They were right. We have been partying every night since we arrived. It was a week-long conference, with lectures in the day time and different hosting, get-togethers and parties at night.
Last night, my friends and I showed up at the party being hosted by the Warri Branch of the NBA (our branch). Arriving at the venue, a nice bar in Garki⁷, we nodded at each other and then set out to mingle. That was how, when I ran into OJ at the pepper-soup stand, I was alone. He snagged my arm and insisted I sit with him. He asked why I’d been avoiding him.
The music was loud and the night was cold. The room was charged and everyone seemed excited. Maybe that got to me. Maybe it was the fact that we were in a different city — a beautiful city with high rise buildings and undulating grounds. I’m not sure why I followed him out to the hallway last night. But when he wrapped his arms around me from behind and licked my neck, I damn near melted. I took deep breaths to calm myself down but only ended up inhaling his intoxicating scent. He turned me around and I leaned in for a kiss but he shook his head.
“Uche, let’s go to my hotel”, he said.
The party was in full swing inside. The sounds of laughter and merriment carried clearly to where we stood in the shadows. My friends would not miss me until it was time to leave, I thought. I followed OJ out to the side street where he hailed a passing cab. We were soon speeding towards his hotel. I kept asking myself what I was doing. I told myself that I would not let “things” get out of hand. I wouldn’t go the whole way. I am not a home-wrecker. I just wanted to feel his body against mine again. I had missed him. I promised myself that I would leave as soon as things got “heavy”.
He was lodged at the Corinthia Villa Hotel in Garki II. His room was swanky and tush⁸! Recessed lighting winked from different corners and a big luxurious-looking bed held sway in the centre of the scented suite. He locked the door and switched on the AC. Then he dragged me into his arms. We didn’t talk. He just ran his hands down my body and squeezed my butt. Then he backed me into a wall and started kissing me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned the kiss, wholeheartedly savoring the feelings he was awakening inside me. I felt cherished, warm, special, sexy.
He was getting charged up and breathing fast. He pulled me onto the bed and I lay face up, staring at him. He smiled at me and took of his tee shirt and singlet. His chest was hairy and supple. He smelled exotic and dangerous.
“Your turn,” he whispered, tugging at the zipper in front of my dress. I was wearing a very short, bodycon jeans dress that zipped from neck to hem.
I shook my head, no. He ignored me and pulled my zipper down to my navel. I shrugged out of the sleeves of the dress and it fell to my waist. His eyes glazed over as he took in my breasts in a black lacy bra. He caressed them through the bra, rubbing my knobby nipples with the pads of his thumb. Then he leaned in and kissed me some more.
He climbed fully onto the bed and sat with his back to the headboard, spreading his legs. Then he pulled me towards him and settled me against his chest. As he licked my neck and kissed my ears, I felt him hard and poking against my back. I also felt a corresponding moisture between my thighs and I knew it was time to stop playing.
“OJ stop”, I whispered.
“Mmmm”, he answered . “I’m not doing anything.”
I made to get out of his arms, but he wouldn’t let go. I pulled with force and jumped out of the bed. He came after me and started kissing me again and I let him. I was so carried away I didn’t notice him manoeuvring on time. With a jolt, I felt his fingers inside my panties. The short shorts I was wearing under my dress was not much of a deterrent. The touch of his fingers down there was electric and shock held both of us rigid for some seconds. He groaned as he felt my slippery slick folds. I pushed my leg up on the chair close by, granting him further access. I was moaning softly as he probed my depths reverently.
“Uche”, he whispered, awestruck.
It seemed like a question. I’m not sure why I said, “yes”.
I shouldn’t have. I should have left.
I sat in a cab, going to my hotel about two hours later. I remembered OJ begging me not to leave. Sighing, I looked out the window as the streetlights flew past. My mind was in turmoil and my hands were clammy. What did you just do? I asked myself. You just slept with a married man! Had sex with another woman’s husband! Why did you do it? How could you?? What is wrong with you girl? I mentally berated myself as I tried to examine my actions. I blamed myself. It seemed like there was a neon sign in my head, flashing, SLUT! HOME WRECKER!
I am freaking out big time and I have absolutely no idea what the next step is supposed to be. I lean my head against the head rest of the cab seat and close my eyes as we drive through my hotel gates.
My name is Uche and I just had sex with a married man.
