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Home service with a smile?

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By Candida

Problems have ways of getting solved, especially when you don’t really see solutions on the horizon. We were at Ini’s house some couple of years back when Precious, her niece, wanted advise on how best to put some hair extensions into her real hair so it wouldn’t look garish. 

 “Anthony is your man,” Lilian had offered. “He works with one of these highbrow salons where you book for weeks before you could be attended to. But he does home visits. He is one of their top stylists. Very good and cheap if he calls at your house.”  You could buy your own products or he would offer you good options.”

Precious collected Anthony’s details and left. From then on, I noticed this dramatic change in Precious. Her hair was always well- groomed and she looked contented. She called at my place once and I told her she should let me in on the secret of her inner glow. Surely, it wasn’t down to just the hair extensions? 

 “Aunty C, you’ve come again with your questions,” she squealed. I could see she was dying to spill out he guts, so I smiled with some encouragement.  “You know Zachari (the husband) and I have been married for 15 years and all the three children are in good boarding schools. He works as the sales manager for an industrial cleaning firm and is always putting on long hours.

 The first time Anthony came to the house to fix my extensions, I was quite interested in what I saw.  Tall and good looking, he wore a black T-shirt and a chain round his neck. His jeans hung low and the after-shave was very spicy!

“I offered him a can of beer and I showed him the natural hair I bought as extensions. It was very expensive and he commended my taste. Two hours later, I was thrilled with the result. The extensions made the whole hair as thick as I’d wanted. I’d made another appointment right away. Gradually, over the next few months, as he worked with my hair we became closer.

He confided in me about his girlfriend. ‘She wants to get married now so we could start a family’, he’d said once, ‘but I’m just not ready for that. I want to start my own salon first’. I’d sympathised, made it easy for him to continue to confide in me. Soon, our hairdressing sessions had become quite intimate. I knew his girlfriend taught at a private secondary school, didn’t always want to go out with him as she needed to prepare next day’s lessons. ‘When I get back, she’s often asleep;’ he’d said. I sensed frustration in his voice.

“You poor thing,’’ I replied. The truth was, I did that with my husband. By the time he came back from the long hours he worked at his office and he’d had his supper, I was already tired and in bed.  Only I didn’t tell Anthony that instead, I gradually manufactured ways for him to get closer to me. One time, he accidentally sprayed some shampoo on the collar of my T-shirt when he was washing my hair over the sink.

 “I’ll have to change”, I said and went to the bedroom, leaving the door slightly open. I lingered in my bra, loving the thought of him seeing my body. Another time, I wore a low buttoned blouse.  As he worked on my hair, I knew he could see my full cleavage.

”Then, one morning, we both had a can of beer each in our hands and I smiled at him, looking him full in the eyes. Then, I moved closer to him. He looked away and I thought I’d blown it. Then, he looked back. ‘You know if we have sex now, I’Il want it every time,’ he said. What a stroke of luck! I took his hand and led him to the bedroom. He came willingly. He’d obviously been looking forward to this rump as much as me.

”I pulled the curtains and my hands slid under his T-shirt. He didn’t even bother to get undressed, just pushed his jeans down and lifted my shirt. We were kissing, lying on the bed with the covers still on as his hands roamed into my intimate areas. Fleetingly, I thought of Zachari and the kids but my body was on fire and nothing was going to stop me having this hunk I’d just landed!.

”It was an electrifying experience. I gave him good sex because I felt so turned on. He obviously was starved of sex too and was panting for it. It was such a wonderful experience that I wasn’t embarrassed. Back in the living room, Anthony finished doing my hair. ‘We shouldn’t have done that,’ he said. `You are a married woman’. What a time to show a bit of conscience! But had he enjoyed the experience as much as I had. Did he like me?

“There were no answers then and to this day, even after all these months, there still aren’t. I know there never will be. All I know is that I’m the type of woman he needs right now. I know he only wants me for sex. But then, isn’t that what I want too? These days, I don’t bother to wear any fancy clothes. Just wear a dressing gown over my sexy underwear to welcome him. I’m committing adultery but my husband’s never going to find out as I’m often indoors – not lurking around some cheap motels…

“Ironically, my moments with Anthony has made me a bit sympathetic towards Zachari and I often make time for love making when he wants it. He’s happy slaving away as his sales manager’s job and I’m happy being the contended wife.”

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