Most kitchens across Nigeria feel exciting on New Year day, with all the cooking and preparation going on. There's always something to do, look for, put out or put back. Even a clean kitchen is usually a mess on New Year day, before or after the big meal. But my extreme discomfort as I stood in my kitchen had nothing to do with the food. I was there alone with my wife.

The lights were out, so the only lighting came from the lantern on the dining table in the next room, where our guest waited quietly.

Hannah, my wife, gave me a look that would have killed most men. Looking back, I'm surprised I survived it. It wasn't an angry look she gave me, but a knowing one. And considering what I knew I had done, the prospect at her having figured it out was no less than chilling.

I pretended not to know what she “knew" about, but my hard swallow gave me away. Of course, it didn't help that "she" was in the next room.

"She" was our guest who sat just eleven feet away, unseen, in the dining room. Hannah and I move a lot because of my job, and rarely do we celebrate new-year with anyone other than each other. But we like company, and we're always open to spending holidays with someone.

This year I had the opportunity to invite someone from my office who was going to be otherwise alone for the holiday.

That someone just happened to be the same woman who I had almost had an affair with just a couple months earlier. Despite our near infidelity, we had patched things up afterward and were quite professional about it all. But we both still held desires for each other. I hadn't realized my mistake until a second after the words "Why don't you come over?" had come out of my mouth.

I might have taken the invitation back, but I couldn't help but get excited at the prospect of spending more, personal time with this woman named Aisha, and I tricked myself into believing I could get away with it. If it was any other woman, someone with whom my relationship was truly innocent, my wife wouldn't have had a problem, but I had confessed to Hannah about the incident...sort of...and she had a nose for sniffing these kind of things out.

Though I never told Hannah who I had almost slept with, she could read my nervousness and excitement when Aisha arrived. She knew what kind of women turned me on. She had also already met every woman at my office except Aisha, and Aisha was by far the most attractive, so it was kind of like putting two and two together.

The one thing I had going for me was that I had left out the sizzling details of my almost-evening with Aisha. Hannah was under the impression that we were only tempted, that we touched each other through our clothes and "somehow" kissed before backing away from each other.

Had she known the truth that Aisha had displayed her body to me and fingered herself while I jerked myself off onto her breasts and palmed her n*ked p*ssy as she came-Hannah never would have forgiven me, and I would have been single by now with half my stuff in another apartment.

But with the way Hannah was looking at me now, it seemed like she did know. If I opened my mouth to say...anything.


And then something in my wife's face changed. Her expression relaxed, just a little, and her eyes twinkled with something that gave me hope, however brief. Hannah moved to me, slowly pushing her body against mine and taking me delicately in her arms. Her eyes were locked onto mine, looking less accusing and more desperate with each passing moment. But what, I wondered, was she desperate for?

She kissed me, gently, and swiped her tongue between my lips, just grazing them with her soft, strong muscle before taking it back. But her lips stayed against mine, and then they opened. I opened my mouth in response, ready to accept her tongue and about to offer mine when suddenly her tongue forcefully rolled and twisted and slashed into me.

The deepening of the kiss set off a chain reaction as Hannah's body snapped to attention. Her fingers gripped me tighter, her arms pinned me in a fierce hug, her body pressed against me.

Hannah is shorter than me, which is why it surprised me when she somehow rose herself up as she sq££zed me, putting her head above mine and her breasts at my upper chest. Then I realized that, in my shock and--I'll admit it--fear of this situation, I had shrunk down, submitting to her aggressive advance. I was a robot in her hands, and I had no idea what was provoking this. While Hannah could be spontaneous and didn't have any problem directing things in bed every now and then, the fact that she was doing this with a guest she barely knew just a few feet away.

And then it hit me. Hannah was doing this because Aisha was here. I didn't have time to figure out exactly why, but I didn't need it, because the first words out of Hannah's mouth since this all started confirmed it.

"Was it her?" she asked, breathless.

I didn't want to answer, and I wasn't even sure how to lie or evade the question, because I didn't know what Hannah was after. I tried to break away from her, but she kept kissing me, hard, and I could only submit. I put my hands on her ass and sq££zed in spite of my dilemma.

Hannah took advantage of my unintended participation and lifted herself off her feet, giving her full weight to me and sliding herself up my body until her lips were kissing the top of my head, her hands were on my head, and her breasts were pressed against my face.

One of her breasts was uncovered; it had slipped out through the large neck of the top she was wearing. Her skin was cool against my face, and the nipple, though small, was very hard and fat. Hannah had pointy rather than round breasts, and they were large for her size, but even more unusual was how her bright pink areola covered almost the majority of them.

Her one-of-a-kind boobs always got me throbbing, and so I opened my mouth and caught her magnificent breasts between my lips, sU-Cking and licking feverishly. I didn't want to be doing this, and I was sure Hannah was up to something that would make me regret it even more later on, but I couldn't help myself.

"Was it her?" I heard Hannah gasp again as she thrust her chest against my face.

She spread her legs around me, holding onto me. I had nowhere to go, and I hit my back against the cabinets, accepting her breasts with a watering mouth, but still afraid to give her the answer she demanded. Without ceasing my licking for even a second, I glanced toward the open kitchen door, where I could see half the dining room table, all set and ready for New-Year meal.

I could even see the chairs meant for me and my wife. The only thing still out of sight, thankfully, was our guest who we had left sitting at the unseen end of the table.

Hannah pushed herself down and back onto her feet. She kissed me strong again, then looked me hard in the eyes as her hands fumbled with my belt.

"You can tell me, Ed" she said. It didn't appear that she was going to accept my silence any longer.

I nodded and squeaked out a "yes".

The word had barely passed my lips when Hannah slipped down before me and pulled out my hard d!ck. There was no teasing or stroking. She simply engulfed my d!ck, eagerly sU-Cking me down and bobbing with long, steady movements. She was salivating immensely; I was soaked to the point of dripping in less than five seconds. My whole body shuddered uncontrollably, and I fought to keep my groans and gasps as quiet as possible.

I was just looking back into the dining room to check if there was anything new with my guest when Hannah released me, replacing her mouth with her hand.

"Did you f*ck her?" she whispered.

"No," I replied quickly, and I checked again on the dining room, afraid that Aisha might hear, or come around the corner at any second looking for us. We had been gone an unusually long time, and she had to be wondering what we were still doing in the kitchen, in the dark. And with nothing else to focus on, Aisha was probably straining to listen.

Even if she couldn't make out our words, certainly she could hear our heavy breathing.