Title:I MOANED HIS NAME IN MY HUSBAND’S HOUSE
Written ✍🏼 by Confi Tales
Episode 1:
Lagos was loud outside, but inside the apartment, everything felt painfully quiet.
Ifeoma stood by the window, staring at the city lights far below. Cars moved like tiny sparks. Life went on. Everyone else seemed to have somewhere to be, someone to hold. She had a ring on her finger and emptiness in her chest.
Her husband’s side of the bed was untouched. Cold.
She sighed, loosening the robe around her body, unaware that tonight—this very house—would become the place she crossed a line she had sworn never to cross.
A soft knock came at the door.
She froze.
Another knock. Gentle. Familiar.
“Kene?” she called, already knowing.
“Yes,” his voice came through, low and careful. “I’m sorry to bother you. The power went out in my flat again.”
She hesitated only a second before opening the door.
Kene stood there, tall and calm, his eyes taking her in a little too slowly. The thin robe, the bare feet, the loneliness he could almost feel clinging to her.
“It’s fine,” she said, stepping aside. “You can stay here.”
The door closed behind him.
That sound—soft, final—made her heart race.
Before either of them could speak again, the lights flickered… then went out completely.
Darkness swallowed the room.
“Of course,” Ifeoma laughed nervously. “The city never disappoints.”
Moonlight filtered in through the window, casting shadows on his face. In that dim glow, he looked different. Closer. More dangerous.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she said, but her voice betrayed her.
He stepped closer. Not touching her. Just close enough that she could feel his presence, his warmth, the slow rhythm of his breathing.
“Ifeoma,” he said softly.
The way he said her name made something stir deep inside her.
She looked up at him. Their faces were inches apart.
“We shouldn’t—” she began.
But her body didn’t move away.
His hand rose slowly, hesitating before brushing her arm. The touch was light, almost innocent, but it sent a shiver through her. She inhaled sharply, her fingers gripping the edge of her robe.
“I’ve been trying not to want you,” he admitted quietly. “Every night.”
Her heart pounded.
“Kene…” awww she whispered.
That whisper broke him.
He leaned in and kissed her—slow, deep, unhurried. Not rushed. Not desperate. Just full. Her lips parted instinctively, responding to him, melting into the kiss as weeks of loneliness spilled out in a soft moan.
She clutched his shirt, pulling him closer.
The kiss grew heavier. Hungrier.
His hands slid to her waist going down to her pants,holding her like he was afraid she might disappear. She gasped, pressing into him, her body betraying every promise she had ever made to herself.
“Please…” she breathed, her forehead resting against his chest. “Don’t stop it i want you Kene to f*ck me, i want you so bad please, .”
He kissed her neck, her jaw, making her tremble. Each touch awakened something she had buried for too long. Her knees weakened, and he guided her gently onto the bed, following her down.
She whispered his name again. And again.
“Kene awww … Kene…”
Her fingers explored him, learning him, holding him as if he belonged to her—if only for this night. The city sounds faded. The world shrank to breath, warmth, and whispered pleas.
When she begged him not to stop, it wasn’t loud. It was soft. Honest. Desperate.
And when the night finally slowed, when they lay tangled together in the dark, she realized something that made her chest tighten—
She hadn’t just crossed a line.
She had stepped into something she would crave again.
And this house would never feel the same.
To be Continued
Please like,share comments and follow thanks #everyoneシ゚ #NEWSTORYALERT #storytelling #storytime #storybook #tales #fypシ゚viralシ
Written ✍🏼 by Confi Tales
Episode 1:
Lagos was loud outside, but inside the apartment, everything felt painfully quiet.
Ifeoma stood by the window, staring at the city lights far below. Cars moved like tiny sparks. Life went on. Everyone else seemed to have somewhere to be, someone to hold. She had a ring on her finger and emptiness in her chest.
Her husband’s side of the bed was untouched. Cold.
She sighed, loosening the robe around her body, unaware that tonight—this very house—would become the place she crossed a line she had sworn never to cross.
A soft knock came at the door.
She froze.
Another knock. Gentle. Familiar.
“Kene?” she called, already knowing.
“Yes,” his voice came through, low and careful. “I’m sorry to bother you. The power went out in my flat again.”
She hesitated only a second before opening the door.
Kene stood there, tall and calm, his eyes taking her in a little too slowly. The thin robe, the bare feet, the loneliness he could almost feel clinging to her.
“It’s fine,” she said, stepping aside. “You can stay here.”
The door closed behind him.
That sound—soft, final—made her heart race.
Before either of them could speak again, the lights flickered… then went out completely.
Darkness swallowed the room.
“Of course,” Ifeoma laughed nervously. “The city never disappoints.”
Moonlight filtered in through the window, casting shadows on his face. In that dim glow, he looked different. Closer. More dangerous.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she said, but her voice betrayed her.
He stepped closer. Not touching her. Just close enough that she could feel his presence, his warmth, the slow rhythm of his breathing.
“Ifeoma,” he said softly.
The way he said her name made something stir deep inside her.
She looked up at him. Their faces were inches apart.
“We shouldn’t—” she began.
But her body didn’t move away.
His hand rose slowly, hesitating before brushing her arm. The touch was light, almost innocent, but it sent a shiver through her. She inhaled sharply, her fingers gripping the edge of her robe.
“I’ve been trying not to want you,” he admitted quietly. “Every night.”
Her heart pounded.
“Kene…” awww she whispered.
That whisper broke him.
He leaned in and kissed her—slow, deep, unhurried. Not rushed. Not desperate. Just full. Her lips parted instinctively, responding to him, melting into the kiss as weeks of loneliness spilled out in a soft moan.
She clutched his shirt, pulling him closer.
The kiss grew heavier. Hungrier.
His hands slid to her waist going down to her pants,holding her like he was afraid she might disappear. She gasped, pressing into him, her body betraying every promise she had ever made to herself.
“Please…” she breathed, her forehead resting against his chest. “Don’t stop it i want you Kene to f*ck me, i want you so bad please, .”
He kissed her neck, her jaw, making her tremble. Each touch awakened something she had buried for too long. Her knees weakened, and he guided her gently onto the bed, following her down.
She whispered his name again. And again.
“Kene awww … Kene…”
Her fingers explored him, learning him, holding him as if he belonged to her—if only for this night. The city sounds faded. The world shrank to breath, warmth, and whispered pleas.
When she begged him not to stop, it wasn’t loud. It was soft. Honest. Desperate.
And when the night finally slowed, when they lay tangled together in the dark, she realized something that made her chest tighten—
She hadn’t just crossed a line.
She had stepped into something she would crave again.
And this house would never feel the same.
To be Continued
Please like,share comments and follow thanks #everyoneシ゚ #NEWSTORYALERT #storytelling #storytime #storybook #tales #fypシ゚viralシ
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