My Abusive African Husband

The First Date

"Anita! Turn that off!" John groaned.

It was 5am, my usual wake-up time. The alarm on my phone had rang. I reached over to shut it off. John lay behind me, his large arms holding me in place. We spent most of last night making love, so I was exhausted. I considered staying in bed, but I could hear my mother constantly telling me to stop being lazy and get to work.

I really wanted to stay sleeping next to John, perhaps do it one more time before I got to work. It's just I was just still too timid to even consider initiating sex. I got out of bed, only wearing panties, I knelt down and picked up my robe. Wrapping myself up I tried to list what needed to be done this morning.

On the list of chores were yesterday's dishes, as well as some laundry. This got me thinking, I need to ask John how that machine works. During these early mornings, I generally liked to think about my time back at the village. All the innocent things I didn't know, like what exactly sex was. It was clear in my mind what all those married couples did behind closed doors.

The village is small, I knew many elders and their wives. Even got why some women seemed so attached to their abusive husbands. Or maybe this was just me thinking too much. I did feel more confident since John's interest in me was now extremely real and proven.

Speaking of John, he was likely going to go to work today, I didn't really know his work schedule since he didn't go yesterday.

"Why couldn't he stay?" I thought to myself, hoping he wouldn't leave me alone.

I wasn't used to that, back home I spent a lot of time with mama. She often led the chores, but even then there was so much work to do. Sweeping inside and outside our home. I regularly began my days sneezing uncontrollably due to this first task in the morning.

Once I finished sweeping then came the process of mopping, John had all the fancy detergents. Normally, we'd have to just use water and hope daddy didn't forget to buy some on his trip to the shops.

The detergents made everything so shiny, it felt magical, and I actually enjoyed cleaning. The difference it made to how the house looked made me feel some level of fulfilment. The tiles gleamed in the morning light, brightening up John's home.

Basking in the glory of my efforts, I heard the shower open. A sign he'd woken up, and I expected he'd be hungry once he was done. So after straightening things up, I started on breakfast. My thought was, since John is probably recovering from yesterday, maybe some meat would be good.

Gathering some ingredients, I found some sausages. Next I grabbed a can of baked beans from the cupboard. The process of chopping vegetables was rather frightening due to how I'd already cut myself some days back. I went slowly this time, especially when I could hear John in the shower.

About half an hour later, I watched John walk down in his suit typing something on his phone. I saw his face light up when he saw the plate with toast, sausage, beans and some freshly chopped tomatoes.

"Anita!"

I looked up, my hands still in the sink washing the plates.

"Yes John," I replied quickly, hoping I'd not made a mistake.

"This is amazing, thank you."

"You're welcome" I said with a smile.

John ate quietly before once again his associate called. He sat and talked to him on a loudspeaker while he ate. I also probably needed to make his bed and clean the shower.

"Anita," John said, his voice stern. It was something that always got my attention.

His call must have ended.