THE lady was having to contend with a whirlwind in her mind and body.  For the first time, she was having to accept that she had developed so much admiration for a mentally disturbed man to the point of wishing she could be taken to bed by him.
So often had she wished the man was of stable mental countenance. So often too had she imagined how easily the two would have hit it off, how they would have started a rollercoaster love affair, meeting in places her husband would never have imagined she was capable of visiting just so as to continue meeting another man.
In her mid-forties though still looking very shapely and beautiful, to the extent where some people thought she was still in her late thirties, the lady attracted a lot of interest from men though she successfully fended them off and remained faithful to her husband.
She often remembered and valued several discussions with other women during which they agreed that messing up in marriage after you had attained your middle ages was likely to spell permanent doom if discovered as you would be unlikely to remarry.
As such, she was not particularly keen on accepting even exciting proposals from what looked like worthwhile men to go this or that way and do this or that.
In fact, she had learned that if you allowed a man to come close to you, maybe through traditional cousinship jokes or any other ways which men used to penetrate your defences, you could eventually buckle and fall to temptations.
So to comments like “Mmmm, you look good,” she often answered “Thank you, my husband makes sure of that” and quickly walk away without appearing too impressed by the compliment.
When men uttered silly suggestive comments, sometimes she mustered enough angry wrinkles on her brow, said nothing apart from “pst” and walked away.
When not in hospitable mood, or depending on the type of man making the suggestive comments, she would retort “I am very disappointed with you. I didn’t expect YOU to say such things to me, knowing as you do that I am a happily married person.  Please don’t ever say that to me again.”
Usually, she would use this tactic against men who had a reputation for grounding the toughest women in the vicinity, those that were reputed to be “unstoppable”!  And more often than not, it seemed to embarrass them and they left her alone.
She really had gotten accustomed to life with one man, her husband and, with their children out of their care and living on their own, she and her husband had gotten even closer to each other, living as they did, the two of them alone.
She excused her interest in the mad man by convincing herself that she had dropped her guard and allowed her admiration of him to run away with her because she knew for sure that NOTHING could ever happen between her and him and nothing would, so it was just in her head to wish she could have some private moments with him.
Inwardly though, she still questioned why she had, at times, allowed her fantasies to also run away with her.
The husband would never know why she sometimes got so carried away and became agitated and very excited in bed.
Never would he realise that on several occasions, she imagined she was in the arms of the mad man, the Bull, and he was clean shaven, had had a bath and had brushed his teeth, that he was kissing her and driving her crazy to the point where what happened to her in that matrimonial bed cannot be described in the Sunday Times which even under 16s have access to!
But over time, she had successfully put the mad man out of her mind, after they had shifted to their new home, away from where she was forced to see him almost daily.
Yet her friend’s simple request for a lift that day had suddenly brought her face to face with him again and … when he started acting funny and attempting to get into her car, she became totally disoriented and momentarily stopped thinking.
She knew it was in her best interests and within her power to kick him out and not allow him to come into her car yet she did very little to stop him.
Even when she started driving off with him in the car and the coloured man offered to do a few Kung Fu chops on him to rescue her, she lied that he was a family member and thus allowed herself the opportunity to effect what had for long been going through her mind.
She did harbour some fear that something might just go wrong but as long as the man continued to act normal at the time, she found herself driving on, with him by her side, towards her own home, knowing fully well her husband was not there and would not be there till the following day.
She knew for sure she was banking on him maintaining his normalcy which if he did, she would most probably manipulate to satisfy not only her curiosity but her own appetite for him!
She fully understood why she asked the barber to cut his hair; it was because she had a mind to clean him up totally and just feast on him, if she could.
About that, she had no doubt in her mind no matter how much she pretended to herself.
The guilt was growing with each step she took towards the home she knew she shouldn’t be taking this man, especially knowing as she did that he was a deranged person.
She also remembered as she went closer and closer to home of some men who had been sent to jail for having carnal knowledge of imbeciles.
Would that law apply to her as a woman?  If she was discovered to have had sex with an imbecile, would they surely arrest and jail her?
The thought scared her a bit, though what would concern her more about being discovered was what society and especially those close to her – relatives, friends, work mates, church mates – would think of her!
The mad man was in the shower.  She had been uncomfortable about putting him in the Jacuzzi in their bedroom.
Even when she knew what she wanted to do, her heart thumping with excitement and fear put together, she ushered him into a stand-alone shower next to the laundry room.
Now the man had had his first bath “The first water or soap” as he had called it and he was calling her to come and scrub his back.  She stood rooted to one position for long seconds.  He called again.
Then slowly, hesitantly, she approached the shower room.  The door was open and she saw him.  She sighed heavily and shook her head from the left to the right, left to the right.
“No sir.  I won’t bath you,” she said firmly though attempting as much as possible to remain pleasant.  “I want to see you when you are totally clean… clean everything that is dirty on you … shave your armpits… shave whatever hair on you is unwanted… then call me.  Let me bring you the shaving kit.  I am sure you will know how to use it.”
She walked to her husband’s head board drawer, took out the shaving kit and went back to the shower.
“You can go in there,” she said pointing to another room.  “You will find a hand basin and a big mirror.  Clean yourself up, sir, then call me.”
She walked away, back into the bedroom and stood before her huge dressing mirror.  She met her own eyes in the mirror and felt a huge sense of guilt.
Her own figure was staring back at her and accusing her loud and clear, very audibly: “You have picked a mad man from the street… your fantasy man… and taken him to your husband’s house… a mad man… a mad man… and… just admit it… now you are about to commit adultery… with him… yes?  Yessss!  You are!
And your trusting husband… is away at a funeral… he would never imagine you would ever prefer this mad man to him… it’s only tonight, you can wait… and tomorrow he will give you his holy matrimonial love… only if you wait one night!”
She swiftly turned away, clasped her palms together, shook her head, bit her lower lip and threw herself on the bed.
She wished to stop it!  She wished to tell the man “Now you have had the bath you wanted, let me drive you back.”
But she knew, the way her heart was thumping, her sense of expectancy… oh my, my… she had seen him stark naked in the shower… and oh my, my, nothing would stop this or was there?
She quickly stood up, not knowing what to do.  For a moment she felt there was probably no difference between him and her…  Maybe she was also becoming insane.
Waiting…  Sounds of movements in the other room…  In the toilet.
Probably shaving his armpits now.  More sounds.  Clearing the throat.  Waiting.   Yes waiting!  Anxious! Almost breathless.  Mad… man.  Mad…wooo…man?  Not her!  Heart bump-bump-bump.  Waiting.
(To be continued)