💋I RIDE HER HUSBAND TO CLOUD 9 🔥✨
Episode 5
The Night the Fire Consumed Us
It happened on a Thursday night that felt like the world was holding its breath.
Mr. Michael had called Maureen at exactly 9:12 p.m.
His voice was thick, broken, like he had been fighting tears for hours.
“Maureen, I can’t stay in this house tonight. My wife brought her friend again. The man is in the parlour with her. They think I travelled. I’m on the road now.
Can I see you? Please.”
Maureen’s heart jumped into her throat.
“Come, sir. I’m waiting.”
She didn’t think twice.
She quickly tidied her small room, changed the bedsheet, lit a small scented candle because NEPA had taken light, and put on a simple cotton nightgown.
By 10:17 p.m., the familiar ash-coloured Prado parked quietly outside her compound.
Mr. Michael entered, closed the door softly behind him, face drawn, eyes red.
Maureen locked the door and hugged him without a word.
He held her tight, like a drowning man holding a rope.
They stood like that for almost a minute.
Then he sat on the only plastic chair, head in his hands.
Maureen sat on the edge of the bed opposite him.
Silence filled the small room.
Finally he spoke, voice shaking.
“I saw them again. In my own parlour. She thought I travelled to Abuja. I came back early because I missed the children. I opened the door and saw them… on the same sofa we bought together.”
Maureen covered her mouth.
“Sir… I’m so sorry.”
He looked up, eyes wet.
“I stood there like a fool. I couldn’t even talk. I just turned and left.”
Maureen moved closer, knelt in front of him, held his hands.
“You don’t deserve this kind of pain.”
Mr. Michael looked at her for a long time.
“Maureen, you are the only person who makes me feel like a human being again.”
Then he pulled her gently into his arms.
The hug was warm, comforting.
Then it changed.
His hand moved to her back.
She rested her head on his shoulder.
Their breathing became one.
He lifted her chin.
Their eyes locked.
Then he kissed her.
Soft at first.
Like a question.
Maureen’s eyes closed.
She kissed him back.
Like an answer.
The kiss deepened.
Hands started moving.
The candle flame danced.
The small room became hot.
Mr. Michael carried her to the bed like she weighed nothing.
Nightgown slipped up.
Shirt buttons opened.
Skin met skin.
They moved together slowly at first, like they were afraid to break the moment.
Then faster.
Deeper.
The iron bed began its song — kpikim… kplam… kriiiink!
Maureen held him tight, legs wrapped around him, feeling every movement.
He kissed her neck, her shoulders, whispered her name like a prayer.
She answered with soft sounds she didn’t know she could make.
They reached the sweet place together — shaking, holding, breathing one breath.
Afterwards, they lay tangled in the sheets, candle still burning low.
Reality came slowly.
Mr. Michael sat up first.
“Maureen… this was a mistake. I’m so sorry.”
Maureen touched his face gently.
“No, sir. It wasn’t a mistake. I wanted it too.”
They looked at each other in the candlelight.
Then they kissed again.
This time slower.
This time with no regret.
Round two began.
This time with more fire.
Maureen climbed on top, moving slow, then faster, head thrown back.
Mr. Michael held her waist, guiding her, watching her like she was the only woman in the world.
They changed positions — side, back, front — until the small bed cried louder than ever.
Until they both reached the clouds again.
Until the candle finally went out.
By 4 a.m., they lay quiet, holding each other.
NEPA brought light. The fan started blowing cold air.
He nodded slowly.
“I can’t leave my children. But I can’t lose you either.”
Maureen closed her eyes.
The innocent friendship had died tonight.
Something new, dangerous, and beautiful had been born in its place.
And neither of them could stop it now.
Because the fire that started as comfort…
Had become a flame they both wanted to burn in.
Comment “Next” for Episode 6.
Let’s get this story to 400 shares!
To be continued…
Follow Vicky's Stories for more interesting stories
Episode 5
The Night the Fire Consumed Us
It happened on a Thursday night that felt like the world was holding its breath.
Mr. Michael had called Maureen at exactly 9:12 p.m.
His voice was thick, broken, like he had been fighting tears for hours.
“Maureen, I can’t stay in this house tonight. My wife brought her friend again. The man is in the parlour with her. They think I travelled. I’m on the road now.
Can I see you? Please.”
Maureen’s heart jumped into her throat.
“Come, sir. I’m waiting.”
She didn’t think twice.
She quickly tidied her small room, changed the bedsheet, lit a small scented candle because NEPA had taken light, and put on a simple cotton nightgown.
By 10:17 p.m., the familiar ash-coloured Prado parked quietly outside her compound.
Mr. Michael entered, closed the door softly behind him, face drawn, eyes red.
Maureen locked the door and hugged him without a word.
He held her tight, like a drowning man holding a rope.
They stood like that for almost a minute.
Then he sat on the only plastic chair, head in his hands.
Maureen sat on the edge of the bed opposite him.
Silence filled the small room.
Finally he spoke, voice shaking.
“I saw them again. In my own parlour. She thought I travelled to Abuja. I came back early because I missed the children. I opened the door and saw them… on the same sofa we bought together.”
Maureen covered her mouth.
“Sir… I’m so sorry.”
He looked up, eyes wet.
“I stood there like a fool. I couldn’t even talk. I just turned and left.”
Maureen moved closer, knelt in front of him, held his hands.
“You don’t deserve this kind of pain.”
Mr. Michael looked at her for a long time.
“Maureen, you are the only person who makes me feel like a human being again.”
Then he pulled her gently into his arms.
The hug was warm, comforting.
Then it changed.
His hand moved to her back.
She rested her head on his shoulder.
Their breathing became one.
He lifted her chin.
Their eyes locked.
Then he kissed her.
Soft at first.
Like a question.
Maureen’s eyes closed.
She kissed him back.
Like an answer.
The kiss deepened.
Hands started moving.
The candle flame danced.
The small room became hot.
Mr. Michael carried her to the bed like she weighed nothing.
Nightgown slipped up.
Shirt buttons opened.
Skin met skin.
They moved together slowly at first, like they were afraid to break the moment.
Then faster.
Deeper.
The iron bed began its song — kpikim… kplam… kriiiink!
Maureen held him tight, legs wrapped around him, feeling every movement.
He kissed her neck, her shoulders, whispered her name like a prayer.
She answered with soft sounds she didn’t know she could make.
They reached the sweet place together — shaking, holding, breathing one breath.
Afterwards, they lay tangled in the sheets, candle still burning low.
Reality came slowly.
Mr. Michael sat up first.
“Maureen… this was a mistake. I’m so sorry.”
Maureen touched his face gently.
“No, sir. It wasn’t a mistake. I wanted it too.”
They looked at each other in the candlelight.
Then they kissed again.
This time slower.
This time with no regret.
Round two began.
This time with more fire.
Maureen climbed on top, moving slow, then faster, head thrown back.
Mr. Michael held her waist, guiding her, watching her like she was the only woman in the world.
They changed positions — side, back, front — until the small bed cried louder than ever.
Until they both reached the clouds again.
Until the candle finally went out.
By 4 a.m., they lay quiet, holding each other.
NEPA brought light. The fan started blowing cold air.
He nodded slowly.
“I can’t leave my children. But I can’t lose you either.”
Maureen closed her eyes.
The innocent friendship had died tonight.
Something new, dangerous, and beautiful had been born in its place.
And neither of them could stop it now.
Because the fire that started as comfort…
Had become a flame they both wanted to burn in.
Comment “Next” for Episode 6.
Let’s get this story to 400 shares!
To be continued…
Follow Vicky's Stories for more interesting stories
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