I’m not an illiterate. I’m a Masters’ degree holder. So, don’t begin to judge me as someone who has been brain-washed.
I met my wife while I was serving in Gombe State, that’s way before Boko Haram became a problem. We were both members of the Corpers’ Fellowship. She was one of the sisters in the choir. She was beautiful and I knew I would someday make her my wife. Tuoyo had all the qualities a man desires; tall, shapely, God-fearing and very intelligent.
After our service year, we began to court formally. Like most God-fearing Christians, we tried to avoid having sex but failed many times because I always craved sex.
I was the first to get a job. Tuoyo and I agreed I would work for two years before we got married. Everything went smoothly, particularly when she landed her first job a few months later, at an advertising firm in Ikeja. Life was good for both of us. We combined our incomes and soon rented a three bedroom apartment at Ogba. By this time, since we knew we were getting married, I no longer felt any remorse about having sex before marriage but Tuoyo never fully gave herself to me.
Tuoyo was shy which was understandable since I met her a virgin, but I always thought that in time especially after marriage, she would relax and enjoy sex like me but when a woman just lies there doing nothing, you soon start getting tired of the sex.
When I started complaining, Tuoyo panicked and sought counsel with a prophet; she later told me a friend’s friend took her to meet this prophet as she also wanted to have kids badly.
The prophet called me one day at work, asking to speak to me. I’m not the type who believes in seeing prophets but I was curious about this one. He sounded young and urbane.
We agreed to meet on a Saturday at The Place in GRA Ikeja.
That day, my life turned around. The prophet was about my age and he looked nothing like a prophet. He was dressed in T-shirt and jeans with a Samsung high end phone. We got talking about everything but the reason we agreed to meet there. I found we had a lot in common and before he left, we promised to meet again. I was hooked on this guy.
It was during our second meeting that the prophet, who at this time insisted I called him by his name, Rotimi, introduced me to sex on a different level.
He told me how to seduce my wife, get her to enjoy sex and even have her demand for more. It was some Karma Sutra kind of thing. He showed me positions, he told me how to create moods; I was fascinated. I’d heard about prophets and all of the stories usually ended with them sleeping with other people’s wives. Rotimi didn’t seem to want that. Instead, he was teaching me to please her instead of myself, which I realized I had been doing before now.
One day, he asked me to hire a room at Protea Hotel. Rotimi came in with his fiancée, a lovely and highly endowed lady. He told me to relax that she was in on what he was about to do. At first, I was too shocked to agree to his odd suggestion but he told me his fiancée wouldn’t mind as they both saw themselves as sex therapists of sorts.
Rotimi proceeded to make love to her right in my presence.
Right before me, he played with every part of her body and she was dripping wet and crying and begging before he finally made love to her. I had a hard on for days just thinking about what I saw. I couldn’t even tell my wife what I had been up to because I feared she would forbid me from seeing Rotimi again.
Anyway, long story short, I took my cue from the prophet and it wasn’t long before I tried to put into practice what I had learned from Rotimi. I did what Rotimi taught me and yes, things changed but not drastically. The problem wasn’t him. It was me. I had seen things but I just couldn’t put them to practice.
When I told Rotimi he offered to give me more tutorials but it was I who suggested he came over to our house to give me moral support. I felt that if he watched while I worked on Tuoyo, it would give me the needed boost. He would ‘sleep’ in the guest room and peep through a hole I had bored in the door when the action began in our bedroom, of course, without my wife’s knowledge.
That night my performance could have won an Oscar. I was like a student wanting to please his teacher. I gave my best that day, following all the tips he gave me. My wife even congratulated me afterwards.
Unfortunately, I’m stuck now. I am only able to perform like that when the prophet ‘sleeps over’. Other days are done mechanically but when I have an audience, I’m on top of the world.
What do I do before my wife discovers my shocking secret.