THE SELECTED SEVEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ADULTEROUS THOUGHTS

At five o'clock this morning, the sun's first rays illuminated the quiet valley town, which was usually vibrant but now lay still, punctuated only by the distant whistle of a train announcing the arrival of a new day. Early risers made their way to the local bakery, enticed by the rich aroma of fresh bread. In this delicate moment of dawn, filled with hope, dreams felt within reach, and a new beginning appeared attainable.

As the sun continued its ascent, Blessing, the devoted wife of Chief Markus Charles—once a formidable force as the Inspector General of Police at the Bureau of Anti-Corruption Affairs (BACA)—lay in bed alongside her husband, mind racing with a plethora of conflicting thoughts. She had received everything she had ever wanted from her husband: money, power, influence, and an extensive network of connections that many only dreamt of possessing. She was often the envy of her peers, living a lifestyle that exuded glamour and sophistication. Yet amidst this façade of a perfect life, there was one critical aspect that was woefully lacking: s****l satisfaction in their marriage. The absence of intimacy was not merely a void; it was a slowly festering wound that gnawed at her happiness, leaving her feeling discontented and unfulfilled after so many years together in a once vibrant partnership.

She understood all too well that nothing on earth could make a woman feel more cherished and fulfilled than experiencing s****l intimacy, even if she had nothing else of material significance. s****l fulfillment, she realized, was paramount in a successful marriage, and the disparity in this area was a common thread that could unravel the strongest of bonds, often leading to broken homes and shattered dreams. This understanding weighed heavily on her, creating a chasm between what her life appeared to be and the solitude that she felt within.

Her thoughts turned dark, focusing on her husband's inability to meet her needs in this vital aspect of their relationship. "My husband's manhood is like that of a child—too small and weak to function correctly," she lamented inwardly, a pang of frustration echoing through her heart. This unfortunate reality meant he could not last long during intercourse, which ultimately extinguished any flicker of desire within her. As she lay beside her sleeping husband in the dim early morning light, a whirlwind of questions invaded her mind. "What must I do now to attain the satisfaction I crave? Should I seek companionship outside our marriage? What if my secret gets out, and people discover my actions hidden in the shadows behind my husband? That would be a tremendous shame for my reputation and status; yes, it is bound to be exposed. But on the other hand, if I engage with a man who is already within my social circle, then perhaps the secret could remain safely sealed, hidden from prying eyes. Perhaps there are ways I can navigate this treacherous terrain without jeopardizing the life I have built.

Caught in a tempest of desire and fear, Blessing felt the weight of her predicament pressing down on her, a challenge that would ultimately define the course of her life. The morning sun shone brightly, oblivious to her inner turmoil, yet it brought with it a sense of urgency—a reminder that life was too short to live in discontent. As the town slowly stirred to life outside, Blessing found herself at a crossroads, pondering the delicate balance between fulfilling her deepest desires and protecting her seemingly perfect life.

My husband has a driver: not only is he handsome and young, but he also respects me immensely and will comply with whatever I ask of him. He possesses a magnetic personality, characterized by an infectious smile that lights up any room he enters. His charming demeanor is complemented by an undeniable charisma that attracts attention and admiration from those around him. His skills behind the wheel are unparalleled; he navigates through the bustling streets with the utmost precision and care, always ensuring our safety and comfort. Whether it is busy city traffic or winding country roads, he possesses an innate ability to adapt, making every journey a delightful experience.

But the question is, how do I begin? I can't simply approach him and declare my love, can I? No! That would be beneath me, a confrontation that could lead to embarrassment or misinterpretation. Instead, I must devise a more subtle approach, one that allows my feelings to blossom naturally. Perhaps I could entice and seduce him; this way, I can secure him for myself alone. I envision a romantic evening where I engage him in light conversation, laughing softly and allowing our eyes to linger just a moment too long, creating a tension that is both thrilling and tantalizing. "Good idea," she murmured to herself, grinning at the thought of weaving a delicate web of affection around him.

Just then, as if stirred from a nightmare, her husband, Chief Markus, woke up. After watching her for a moment with a confused yet affectionate gaze, he inquired about the reason behind her smile, his brow slightly furrowed with curiosity.

"Nothing much, sweetheart," Blessing lied, making an effort to conceal her inner thoughts, which danced around like butterflies in her stomach. She adjusted her posture, trying to appear nonchalant, a skill she had perfected over the years. "Just some lovely thoughts that crossed my mind. But it's nothing," she added, waving her hand dismissively, hoping to shift the conversation away from her secretive musings and into the realms of normality.

Her husband, ever the optimistic politician with a vision for a brighter future, replied, "I hope it has nothing to do with the upcoming gubernatorial election. I'm going to win the race for Governor of Soko State, and that makes you the First Lady." The pride in his voice was unmistakable, filled with the dreams he had nurtured throughout his career amid countless challenges and adversities.

Blessing's face lit up with a genuine smile at the thought of his potential triumph—the idea of being part of something larger than themselves. However, a cloud of concern flickered through her mind. " I like the spirit in you. You are always optimistic about the future. But what about the other opponents who are vying for the same position as you?" she remarked, her voice tinged with reflected worry for the challenges ahead. It was the political landscape that often felt like a treacherous game.

"Don't let that trouble you, my dear. They will all bow down at the eleventh hour," Chief Markus reassured her, his confidence unwavering, his eyes glinting with determination.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, confused and somewhat disheartened, as doubt gnawed at her thoughts. The political landscape seemed filled with uncertainties, and she could not shake the pervasive sense of foreboding that clouded her mind like shadows.

"I mean, they will ultimately concede to me," Chief Markus replied, gently caressing his wife's hand in a gesture meant to soothe her nerves. The warmth of his touch was reassuring, anchoring her amid the uncertainty that surrounded them.

"Okay! And let it be peaceful," she insisted, her voice a blend of hope and a touch of trepidation as she wrestled with her anxieties about what the future could hold.

"It certainly will be," he promised, his eyes steady with determination, conveying both sincerity and a profound commitment to the ideals they shared.

"I abhor bloodshed. I cannot stand seeing people die," she declared, her heart heavy with the weight of past conflicts and the desire for a harmonious future where every individual could coexist peacefully, without fear or violence. Her passion for justice and compassion was woven deeply into her character, making the prospect of conflict even more unbearable.

"Nobody will die. There will be no bloodshed this time, First Lady," he assured her, his tone firm yet gentle, striving to instill confidence and a sense of security in her heart. In that moment, they found a shared understanding and a commitment to strive for a peaceful outcome amidst the chaos of the world around them.

"First Lady? Did you address me as the First Lady? What if victory goes to your opponent?” she asked, her brow slightly furrowing as she glanced at her husband. There was a swirling mix of concern and curiosity in her eyes, reflecting the uncertainty and weight of the political landscape looming over them. The pressure of the upcoming election was palpable, and the prospect of her becoming the First Lady felt both exhilarating and overwhelming.

"Victory won't go to either of them. I am already the winner!" he declared with a confident grin, his deep voice echoing in the room. His unwavering gaze met hers as he playfully flipped the bedsheet, conveying lightness amidst their serious talk. With a mix of mischief and affection, he gently lifted her wife's nightgown, revealing her immaculate white pants against the delicate sheets. The moment felt intimate, yet heavy with expectations.

“Honey, what are you trying to do?” she asked, a smile creeping onto her face. Her initial annoyance began to dissipate in the heat of the moment as she sensed his intentions. The familiar rhythm of their relationship was one of playfulness laced with love, and despite the troubling thoughts about the election, she couldn't help but feel drawn to him.

“I want to claim my conjugal rights,” he stated boldly, his voice firm yet lighthearted. He removed her pants with a swift yet careful motion, as though he were unwrapping a precious gift. He mounted her, their bodies aligning in a familiar dance of intimacy, a sweet escape from the world outside their bedroom door. They began to make love, losing themselves in the warmth and connection they shared. However, just as swiftly, within his usual five minutes, he reached orgasm and abruptly stopped, leaving a palpable tension in the air that hung over them like a heavy cloud.

The wife sighed, a hint of disappointment lining her features as she looked up at him, her hopes dashed. “Are you done?” she asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of longing and frustration that had been building like a storm inside her. She wished for more; more intimacy, more connection, more time together in this way where they could forget the world.

“Of course! Am I meant to stay there forever?” Chief Markus Charles retorted, bracing himself for the impending discussion about his s****l prowess. His tone was defensive, yet there was a playful glimmer in his eyes, a sign that he knew the conversation was coming, and perhaps he welcomed it with a touch of amusement. “I am a very busy man. It’s only jobless, lazy men who can afford to spend eternity during intercourse just to satisfy the women in their lives.” There was a hint of bravado in his words, masking the growing concern in the back of his mind about their physical connection.

“This is the only issue I’ve had with you since we got married,” she lamented, her voice firm and unwavering. “You never considered my feelings—it’s always about yours.” As she spoke, she felt the weight of her unspoken desires pressing heavily on her chest, a burden that had lingered since the early days of their relationship. “Women generally prefer it when their men last longer on them,” she added, standing her ground, determination in her voice as she laid bare her heart.

He replied earnestly, "You’re mistaken. Men who spend more time during intercourse often lack something to offer, compensating with stamina. I, however, have money, influence, power, and connections, so I conserve my energy. I love you deeply," he declared, kissing her forehead with sincerity, their hands intertwined in a silent vow amidst their complex married life.