I am okay financially, living well and self made. I met Halima on a trip to Dubai.
Hai! Halima is beautiful. Her smooth flawless skin, her dove shaped innocent eyes, her well rounded figure! Kai! Allah! Halima is an Egyptian goddess.
I couldn’t withstand the bulge that greeted my zipline as I watched Halima saunter her way passed the queue with her luggage.
I hurried to her and after a few quick jokes she gave me her number. We started to talk and I realised that Halima owns a fashion school here in Maitama.
I went there and was impressed by how classy the place was. Halima looked as splendid as ever and while we talked all I could think about was how our lips would feel locked together.
Her father is late, he died eight years ago, so I was eager to see the woman that single handedly made Halima into the wonder that she was. And I was not too surprised.
Halima’s mother was as stunning, or even more stunning than Halima. Her wrinkle free, milky white skin would make even the most reverent of reverends rethink his vows. Her luscious well formed lips. Her long flowing natural hair, like a million tears have held their hands, just to cry again. I got married to Halima in one of the spacious chapels in central Abuja, and my world was joyous.
After our first daughter was borne, Halima’s mother decided to come live with us for a while. I was impressed by how even at forty eight, she was quite trendy and chic.
We developed a good rapport and all was fine…Till Halima’s mum started making passes at me.
I started noticing how she touches me, long lingering touches that suggest more than what they at first glance, would imply.
Nowadays, whenever Halima is not home she would wear a short towel and sit in the parlour, opposite me, her open thighs spreading now and then.
Recently, towel clad and wearing nothing within, she came and sat in my laps and asked me to rub her, complaining about how it ached.
I am trying my best to respect myself but the temptation is becoming unbearable and I don’t know how to tell Halima about this.
What if she doesn’t believe me? Afterall it’s her mother for God’s sake! Yesterday, she ran out of the bathroom naked, screaming that she saw a rat. I checked thoroughly and there was nothing.
People, What should I do?
