I have travelled quite a bit since the last time I wrote on here, and from my travels, I have tales. Tales of people I have met, things I have done, and experiences I will never forget.
It was a slow morning, just like all the mornings before it ,since I had been in Zanzibar with Fred, my boyfriend, for a much-needed vacation.
We have worked hard throughout the year…hard at our jobs and our relationship. I would say I am surprised we are on this vacation together because I was sure we would break up before my birthday, which was in September. This is November, and we are on a holiday together. Life really does show you that “it can and will very much be you.”
In July, I found out my boyfriend of two years had been cheating on me. It’s one of those cliché ones where they cheat with a girl they tell you not to worry about, where you become friends with the girl and even help him pick her birthday gift.
My boyfriend and I are quite open with each other,our passwords, friendships, money, and everything else. I would say this is the only person I have dated that I wasn’t scared of being vulnerable with. So, when I opened his phone on a Sunday after our siesta and saw a suggestive message pop up from this friend, I was shocked.
The message read, “You would beg to see what I am wearing now.” I hesitated opening it, but I was curious. Why would my boyfriend beg to see what another woman is wearing? And so, I clicked on it, and it led me to their Instagram DMs. I had previously complained about the fact that they share too many reels, even more than we share with each other, but like all cheating men will say… “you are overreacting.”
As I opened the message, I saw one of those messages where you can only view once, so I clicked on it, and it was a picture of her with the exact lingerie he got me for Valentine’s Day. Mine was red, and hers was pink. It was her perfect size. The bra held up her firm breasts, making it appear fuller on the top. Her left hand covered her left nipple while her right hand held her iPhone 16 Pro a little higher to cover part of her face. The panties didn’t sit exactly on her waist; they came down a bit, emphasizing how flat her tummy is and giving the illusion of wider hips. I understood what she meant by “you would beg to see what I am wearing” now.
I tapped my boyfriend, who was sleeping right beside me. He reached for my neck like he always does when he wants a cuddle. I tapped him harder, and he opened his eyes. I held on to the picture so it wouldn’t go off. Immediately his eyes opened, I showed him the picture. He looked at it, then looked at me immediately, took the phone from my hands, dropped it on the bed, and held my hands. I didn’t realize I was crying until he took his hands up to my eyes and wiped off the tears.
“It is not what you think, babe,” escaped his lips amidst holding my hands so tight, like I was trying to run away.
“I don’t think anything,” I responded. “I am confused as to why she would be sending a picture like that to you,” I added.
“She is just a friend. You know her. You have hung out with her multiple times… nothing is going on between us,” he said.
At this moment, I was torn. My boyfriend clearly saw me as a fool. How can you tell me nothing is going on, but she is wearing the same lingerie I have and sending spicy photos to you? I cleaned my tears, smiled, moved to the other side of the bed, and pretended to sleep. I could feel his fear. I could feel him staring at me, and I couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind. Right there, I decided that I needed to pay back. I know people say it’s dumb to cheat back as payback,it’s better to leave..but how do people experience what they make others feel if they don’t get a taste of their own medicine?
It’s four months later, and we are in Zanzibar. My boyfriend believes we are good and all is forgiven. A big part of me has forgiven him, and maybe if he had cut her off, I would have moved on, but they still share reels and communicate often.
I never miss breakfast when on vacation, so I went down to the restaurant early. Fred likes to come down 30 minutes before breakfast is over and scrapple for leftovers like a dog; I have never understood it.
I wore my black lacy silk pyjamas. It is one of those ones that accentuates your curves because of how light the fabric is. Our resort was an adults-only resort, and one thing you are sure of seeing in an adults-only resort are good-looking, amazing-bodied, charming men.
I needed some time alone, so I came down without Fred. I sat very close to the edge of the restaurant so I could feel the ocean breeze and enjoy the view of the Indian Ocean while I savoured fresh exotic fruits and tasteless sauces. While eating, I heard someone ask me if the seat at my table was taken, and I was shocked because there were multiple seats empty,why choose this? As I looked up, my mouth dropped.
He had the gentlest eyes I have ever come across. He was wearing a gray tank top with black sweatpants, his hair rough like it hadn’t seen a comb in months. He was tall, with broad shoulders, muscles fighting for freedom, and the sexiest pink lips.
“No, I am waiting for my boyfriend. That seat is for him,” I managed to respond.
“Okay,” he replied. “See you some other time, I guess,” he added, and walked off.
Thoughts of him filled my mind the whole day. I spent all afternoon staring at my window, waiting to get a glimpse of him so I could run off. I took walks by the pool in the sexy red bikini I brought, the one I planned to wear on my last night with Fred, the special bikini.. I was hoping Mr. Breakfast would see me and come towards me. I wondered if he came alone, with his guy friends, or with his girlfriend. If he was with his girlfriend, he wouldn’t move to me, right? Or was he also unhappy? Did she cheat on him? I couldn’t stop thinking.
Fred was invisible to me. He had tried to talk to me all afternoon, reminded me of the itinerary I put together for us, and how I wasn’t going with the plan.
“I think something is bothering you, Dodeye. You haven’t been yourself since breakfast. What have I done again? I have apologized for months about what you saw. I have tried to make amends. I even booked this holiday so we can spend quality time together, but you have been distant. You either leave earlier for breakfast or want to go to the beach when I want us to go to the pool. I feel like I am on a solo trip.”
Fred, you want to do that thing where you start a fight and then kiss me when it gets heated and we find ourselves naked and still angry two hours later. You cannot apologize for a crime you haven’t admitted to. You are apologizing that you were careless and I saw the message, not about cheating. I have told you I am not comfortable with the friendship, but even as we speak, she is sending you reels. It is unfortunate that we have been having the same conversation for four months, but this will be the last time I will be doing this, I said, and walked out of the room.
I walked out, and I could taste the tears flowing from my eyes to my lips. I have been having this conversation with Fred since August. Every time, it always ends with, “This will be the last time I have this conversation,” but I end up having the conversation again and again.
I started questioning myself, why am I still in a relationship with this man? He disrespected me, cheated on me, and refused to stop talking to the woman that he cheated on me with, but here I am miles away from my country with the same person. I even packed clothes that I know will please him and planned ways to make him scream in the most appealing way.
I found myself at the beach. I sat down on one of the beach chairs, staring into the ocean, and I thought about my next move. Yes, I said I wanted to pay him back. I said I want him to feel what I have been feeling, but is he really worth it? Shouldn’t I just leave him? I sat there pondering as I stared into the ocean.
“I thought I would never see you again, being that I’m leaving tomorrow. It would’ve been so sad if the only memory I had of you was the one from breakfast.” I tried to wipe my tears, and I looked up to him.
The light from the moon shone on his face, and his black was glistening. He wore beach shorts with no shirts, his chest spoke of power. Looking at it, I felt safe, I imagined us in bed, his hands around me and my head on his chest. “I thought I would never see you again too,” I responded as I moved a little to create space for him. He laid down beside me on the beach chair, his shoulder rubbing my arms. We just stared into the beach together.
I had a lot of questions to ask him, but I didn’t know where to start. I needed to release all of the tension I had inside me, and he looked like the perfect person to do that with, so I started rubbing his shoulders gently. I could feel his body move, responding to my touch.
He asked me for my name, but I told him that wouldn’t be necessary, as he was leaving tomorrow, and I had always wanted to be with a man whose name I don’t know. He smiled, his teeth so white it created light in the darkness. I touched his hair, and just like I guessed in the morning, it hadn’t seen a comb in months.
As we laid down there together, staring into the night, I could hear him breathe, and I knew that he was thinking the exact thing I was thinking: to explore each other’s bodies. I knew that Fred could bump in on us any time, but I didn’t care. I touched his cheeks and moved his face close to mine and started kissing him. His lips were so soft as I engorged his lower lips into my mouth; he tasted so succulent, like seasoned fruits. I felt as though I was home.
The beach chair was too small, so I got up from it and sat on his laps. My b***s found their way to his chest. I wore a loose, sleeveless nightie that was barely hanging on my shoulders. He softly brought the hands of my nightie down to my waist, and his fingers on my skin felt electric. He cupped both my b***s in his hands, making me release a soft moan, as I started to move my waist just lightly to excite his chocolate rod. My tongue found its way to his ears, whispering how beautiful his body is, how amazing his lips taste, and how I couldn’t wait to have him inside me. I could tell that all I was saying excited him as I started to feel him grow beneath me, his fingers squeezing my nipples as though he was trying to tune a radio.
I wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and my juices soiled his shorts. I moved his shorts down, and immediately his skin touched my honey pot. I could no longer control myself. I don’t know if it was the anger or something else, but I was filled with passion, passion I haven’t experienced in a very long time. He was as hard as a rock, his hands moving all over my body uncontrollably as I lubricated his rod with my juices. He started to moan as I lightly held his rod and sat on it, riding him slowly until I could feel every vein, every inch of his d**k inside me. When his screams started get louder, I closed his mouth with my palms and the other hand on his throat, choking him as I continued to ride him, slowly and then fast, making him want me more.
The s*x was amazing. Our bodies were so in sync; it felt like salsa dancers having a performance after practising for months.
At that moment, I forgot Fred. I forgot all my worries, and I focused on a man whose name I didn’t know. His hands held my waist and started to move it faster; his thrust got so deep I could taste his D in my mouth. When it seemed as though I wasn’t moving fast enough, he raised me up, laid me down on the beach chair, and came above me.
His thrusts got deeper and faster, his moans louder, it sounded like horse noises which was both sexy and scary. I had never heard anyone moan with that much passion. I felt my legs curling and my eyes rolling to the back. He kept hitting me so hard, and then he held my throat. I could feel my life slipping out of my body, but oh! It felt so good.
My body couldn’t contain the excitement, and I started shaking, his sounds getting louder and his strokes getting faster. Just when I was about to cum, I heard someone scream, “Dodeye, who is this man and why is he on top of you?” It was Fred’s voice. He immediately jumped off of me and moved backwards, raising his hands up as though he was surrendering to the police. I stood there looking at both men.
It is not what you think; he is just a friend. I am so sorry you had to see that, I responded, adjusted my nightie, and walked off.
