Episode 2: "MY CALABAR HOUSEMAID SATISFIES ME IN BED MORE THAN MY WIF£"🍏🥒🍉🥒✅🔞 Episode 2: Caught Between Two Women A must watch For the next few days, the house felt… different. Amaka returned from Aba on Sunday evening, full of gist and gossip from the wedding. She kissed my cheek, asked if I missed her, and told me she brought back okpa and ugba from the East. I smiled. Nodded. Played the loving husband. But in my head? I was still inside Ekaete. She’d made sure of it. Saturday night, Sunday morning, even hours before Amaka arrived—we didn’t waste time. On the sitting room rug. Bent over the washing machine. Ekaete was wild. Untamed. And she knew exactly how to twist her waist till I couldn’t breathe. But now, with Amaka back, everything had to go back to normal. Or pretend to. Except Ekaete… didn’t know how to pretend. She moved around the house with even more confidence—hips swaying, eyes locked on mine every chance she got. She’d bend extra low when sweeping, her wrapper ‘accidentally’ slipping, showing full butt cheeks. Sometimes she didn’t even wear panties. And she knew I was watching. One evening, I sat on the couch, watching football while Amaka cooked egusi soup. Ekaete passed by and deliberately brushed her fingers along the back of my neck. My skin prickled instantly. “Sir, should I bring your bathwater?” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. I almost groaned. “No. Just go,” I muttered. Amaka voice echoed from the kitchen. “Ekaete! Check the pot abeg, I no want the soup to burn o!” Ekaete winked and walked off, hips swinging like temptation itself. Later that night, I was in bed with my wife. She reached for me, maybe out of guilt, maybe trying to reconnect. Her hands were cold. Her kisses were dry. Her body stiff, like she was doing a chore. I couldn’t get hard. I imagined Ekaete instead—moaning, gripping my shoulders, calling me “Daddy” like it was a spell. And immediately, I grew hard. Amaka smiled😃. “Oh, so you missed me after all?” I didn’t answer. But halfway through, I pulled out and rushed to the bathroom, blaming it on stress. The truth? I felt dirty. Guilty. I was inside the wrong woman. Ekaete was already under my skin. And the next morning? She made sure I remembered. I was reading the newspaper when she knelt to mop near my feet—again, no underwear. She glanced up at me, eyes bold. Then she whispered, “I want it again, sir. Tonight. Come to my room.” I should’ve said no. But instead, I adjusted my trousers and nodded. Part ii: The Fire In Her Sweetness That night, sleep ran far from me. Amaka was deep in slumber, wrapped in her oversized nightgown, back turned to me like always. No soft touches. No midnight whispers. Just cold space between us. But just across the corridor, Ekaete was waiting. My body burned with desire, my chest tight with guilt—but it didn’t stop me. I crept out of bed like a thief, tiptoed down the hall, and gently pushed her door open. She was lying there—wrapper completely gone—naked, skin glistening with coconut oil. Her legs were slightly open, one hand between her thighs. She was already wet. Already moaning softly. “Come inside, sir,” she whispered, biting her lower lip. “Come and do me like you did in the kitchen.” I locked the door. In two steps, I was on her. She pulled me down roughly, kissing me with hunger, her nails digging into my back. I kissed her neck, her collarbone, her breasts—soft, round, bouncing in my palms. She moaned louder than usual, grinding against me with no shame, whispering in Efik, things that made me lose control. “Slowly,” she breathed, “I want to feel all of it.” I slid into her, and she arched like her whole soul left her body. She wrapped her legs around my waist, locking me in, riding each thrust like it was her last breath. “Ahhh… Daddy… deeper…” Her voice was music—raw, dirty, sweet—and each moan pushed me closer to the edge. She knew just how to squeeze, to twist her hips mid-thrust, to clench around me when I slowed down. “Turn around,” I growled. She obeyed. I grabbed her waist and entered from behind, slapping her ass as I moved deeper, faster. Her moans turned to screams—soft, breathy screams—muffled by the pillow she bit into. Her back arched, her body trembling under me. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to. We went again. And again. Till her body gave out, limp and sweating beneath me, and I collapsed beside her, both of us breathing like we’d run through a storm. She smiled lazily and kissed my chest. “Sir… this one sweet me pass jollof rice.” I laughed weakly. But just then… A sound. Footsteps in the corridor. A creak. Amaka's voice. “Ekaete? You dey sleep?” she called. Our hearts froze. Ekaete jumped up, wrapping her body fast in a towel. I slid off the mattress and dove under the bed, heart pounding like a drum in my chest. The door handle turned—but it was locked. “Why you lock your door?”Amaka asked from outside. “I naked, madam!” Ekaete replied, voice calm. “Mosquito too much. I dey rub oil.” Amaka chuckled. “Oya sleep well o. Tomorrow wake early, I get guest.” When her footsteps faded, Ekaete bent down and looked at me under the bed. We both burst into silent laughter—shaking, naked, terrified… but still burning for more. And right there, even under the bed, she reached for me again. What do I do now?