The best partner is the one you have. Stop admiring others. Nurture yours - don’t wait to lose them. Marriage grows where effort flows. Every great love story is written with patience.

*Things women love during making love but afraid to tell you

for married!!👇🏻

Sexual rejection from a husband can make a woman see herself as less desirable and ruin her self esteem by 80%! One of the ways you can boost your wife's self esteem is to make her know she is super hot, super sexy, and sexually desirable to you.

Why is your wife cold in bed and doesn't respond sexually to you? Why does she hate sex? Why is she frigid? May be because you don't know these10 things and she is sick or afraid of telling you. Get to know them now and set her loose from all inhibition. By the time you are through and practice them continuously, your wife should have become a glorified husband seductress you never imagined! Let's go!

1. WOMEN LOVE VARIETY IN BED: Same touch, same way, same method, same place, same time is super boring to a woman! Women love adventure. That is why we don't wear same clothe 7 days a week. Variety is the spice of sex. How you touch her yesterday may not be how she wants to be touched today. She may want back rub yesterday but toe massage today. It is your job to notice her, read her like a book and know when she wants passion or tenderness.

2. WOMEN LOVE ROMANCE: gentle, passionate kisses, soft touches at the right places gradually sets a woman on fire!

3. WOMEN LOVE TO TALK BEFORE SEX. Listening to her about how her day went makes you super sexy to a woman. Do not undress her till you have undressed her heart.

4. WOMEN LOVE TO BE ON TOP: may be not all women but most. It keeps her in charge, control the depth and watch you enjoy her front view.

5. WOMEN WILL GLADLY GIVE A QUICKIE IN THE KITCHEN, TOILET, ANYWHERE, any how you want it if you will respect her, show love, be tender, affectionate and not see her as a sex object for quick release.

6. WOMEN LOVE TO HAVE THEIR CLITORIS STROKED TENDERLY, affectionately, appropriately at the right time before and during sex.

7. WOMEN DON'T CARE ABOUT THE SIZE OF YOUR P*NIS AS LONG AS YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE GOOD USE OF IT, hit the right place, position at the right angle and get her moan in pleasure.

8. WOMEN WILL GLADLY OBLIGE TO ANY SEXUAL POSITION AS LONG AS IT GIVES HER ORGASM.

9. THE FUEL OF SEXUAL PASSION FOR A WOMAN IS LOVE, CARE, ATTENTION, AFFECTION AND GENEROSITY WHICH YOU MAKE A LIFESTYLE, give her all the time not just at the moment you want sex. It makes her bond with you emotionally and eagerly makes love to you.

10. WOMEN LOVE LONG DRIVE AND HATE PREMATURE EJACULATION. If you can withhold long enough before shooting and give her some pleasure, she will enjoy love making, enjoy you, pursue you and eagerly have sex with you.

Note that SEX IS STRICTLY FOR THE MARRIED.

The post is strictly for legally married couples not kids who should be facing their studies. If you go into premarital sex, you lose favour with God, experience shame, sorrow and a crises laden marriage awaits you.

Waiting for sex in marriage pays. You will have all the sex you want and enjoy it to the maximum if you do things right!

There is absolutely no need to rush. May your marital sex life catch fire!

Thanks for reading and sharing to educate others,

Give true love always and be faithful to your partner.

May God bless our Marriage ✍🏻

THE DEVIL'S MISTRESS
PART 5
The first time Jessica stepped out of that cold, confined room, her legs trembled—not from fear, but from the sudden rush of freedom.
Mr. Scar stood in the doorway, his massive frame blocking the light from the hall, his expression unreadable. He didn’t speak. Just extended a hand, palm up, waiting.
Jessica hesitated.
"Take it," he growled. *"Or go back inside."
She took it.
His grip was firm, warm, swallowing her slender fingers whole as he led her down the dimly lit corridor.
She expected another prison.
What she got was a paradise.
The new room was nothing like the last.
Large windows draped with silk curtains let in the golden Lagos sunlight. A king-sized bed with Egyptian cotton sheets, a vanity table lined with perfumes and lotions, even a bookshelf stocked with novels—many of them her favorites, though she never told him that.
Jessica turned in slow circles, taking it all in, her heart pounding.
"Why?" she whispered.
Mr. Scar stood by the door, arms crossed, his usual scowl in place. But his eyes—those dark, dangerous eyes—watched her with something close to… satisfaction.
"Because I can," he said simply.
But they both knew it was a lie.
It started with a cough.
A small thing, insignificant. But by nightfall, Jessica was burning up, her skin slick with sweat, her body wracked with shivers.
She barely registered the door bursting open. Barely felt the strong arms lifting her from the bed.
But she would never forget the raw panic in Mr. Scar’s voice when he barked at his men:
"Get a doctor. NOW."
For three days, Jessica drifted in and out of consciousness.
And for three days, Mr. Scar never left her side.
She woke once to find him slumped in a chair beside her bed, his usually immaculate suit wrinkled, his scarred face shadowed with exhaustion. A damp cloth was clutched in his hand, as if he’d been wiping her brow moments before sleep took him.
Another time, she stirred to the feel of strong arms lifting her, holding her against a broad chest as he forced sips of water between her cracked lips.
"Drink," he ordered, his voice rough but oddly gentle.
Jessica obeyed, too weak to argue.
The fever broke on the fourth night.
Jessica woke to the sound of harsh, uneven breathing.
Mr. Scar sat on the edge of her bed, his head bowed, his shoulders trembling. Moonlight spilled through the windows, glinting off the wet tracks on his cheeks.
Tears.
The most feared man in Lagos was crying.
Over her.
Jessica’s breath caught.
He must have heard, because his head snapped up, his expression hardening instantly. But it was too late—she’d seen it. The vulnerability. The fear.
"Don’t," he warned, voice hoarse.
She said nothing. Just reached out, her fingers brushing his.
He didn’t pull away.
As Jessica grew stronger, Mr. Scar’s behavior grew more… confusing.
He allowed her to wander the villa freely, though guards always lingered just out of sight. He had chefs prepare her favorite meals, though she never told him what she liked.
And at night—
At night, he came to her room.
Not to hurt her. Not to demand anything.
Just to be there.
He would sit on the edge of her bed, sometimes reading, sometimes just watching her with those dark, unreadable eyes. And when the nightmares came—because they always did—he was there, pulling her into his arms without a word, holding her until the shaking stopped.
One night, as she drifted off against his chest, she heard him murmur something that made her heart stop:
"Please don’t leave me."
Jessica should have been afraid.
This was the man who’d locked her up, who’d threatened to kill her, who ruled the underworld with an iron fist.
But as the days passed, she found herself watching him too. Noticing the way his stern expression softened when he thought she wasn’t looking. The way his hands, so capable of violence, were endlessly gentle with her.
And one terrifying day, she realized the truth:
She didn’t want to leave.
The household noticed the change.
Hardened mafia men gaped as their boss carried Jessica to the garden when she was too weak to walk. The maids whispered when he personally tasted her food before letting her eat, a habit born from paranoia but now tinged with something else.
Protection.
Possession.
Love.
But no one dared say a word.
Because while Mr. Scar had clearly softened for Jessica, he was still a monster to everyone else.
The most surprising thing?
He never crossed the line.
No inappropriate touches. No demands. Just quiet companionship and a respect that left Jessica breathless.
One evening, as he turned to leave her room, she found herself speaking without thinking:
"Stay."
Mr. Scar froze. When he turned back, his eyes were blazing.
"Do you know what you’re asking?" he growled.
Jessica held his gaze. "Yes."
For a long moment, they just stared at each other. Then, slowly, he shook his head.
"Not like this," he said softly. *"Not until, you’re sure."
And with that, he left.
TO BE CONTINUED...

The door of love,
you ask,
where is it?
Step out of the ego,
for it is the door to love,
the very threshold
we fail to see
when bound by pride and illusion.
The ego holds us,
keeps us from the divine,
from worship,
from the essence of connection.
It whispers,
distracts,
narrates a false story
that we are separate
from all that is sacred,
from all that is love.
But remember,
the ego is not who you are,
it is a shadow,
a veil to the truth.
Walk beyond it,
and you will find
that love has always been here,
waiting for you.
"The door to love opens when the ego fades away, and in that quiet space, the heart meets the divine."
#The_door_to_love_lies_beyond_the_ego

I missed you quietly today. So quietly that no one noticed.
I missed you as I climbed out of bed and as I brushed my teeth; when I waited at the lights on the drive into work and as I heard the rain outside my window.
I missed you as I ordered lunch and as I kicked off my shoes when I got home; as I switched off the lights and climbed into bed for the night.
I missed you without tears or noise or fanfare.
But oh how I felt it.
I felt it in the morning, at lunchtime, in the evening and at night. I felt it as I woke, as I waited, as I worked. I felt it at home, on the road, in the light, in the dark, in the rain.
I felt it in every one of those moments, each one sitting heavier and heavier as the weight of me missing you kept growing and growing.
Yes, I missed you so quietly today.
But I felt it so loudly.
***
Becky Hemsley Poetry 2024
: Unknown

THE DEVIL'S MISTRESS
PART 4
The room was cold.
Jessica sat on the edge of the narrow bed, her arms wrapped around herself, staring at the single barred window high on the wall. The pale light of dawn crept through, painting thin stripes across the concrete floor. She had been here for three days.
Three days since Mr. Scar had dragged her from that basement, his grip bruising her arm, his voice a growl in her ear: "You don’t get to die that easily."
She expected torture. Expected him to break her, to make her scream, to leave her bleeding on the floor like the traitor she was.
But he hadn’t.
And that scared her more.
The room wasn’t a cell, not exactly. It was small, but clean—a bed with stiff white sheets, a bathroom with a shower, even a bookshelf in the corner. The door was heavy steel, locked from the outside. No handles. No way out.
Three times a day, a silent guard slid a tray of food through a slot—rice, stew, fresh fruit. Once, there had been a slice of chocolate cake. Jessica had stared at it, her stomach twisting.
Was this a game?
Mr. Scar hadn’t come to see her. But she felt him anyway—his presence like a shadow under the door, his control absolute.
She was his prisoner.
But she was alive.
On the fourth night, he finally came.
The door opened without warning, and there he stood, filling the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking the light from the hall. He wore all black, his scarred face unreadable, his gold watch glinting under the dim bulb.
Jessica scrambled back on the bed, her breath catching.
He stepped inside, letting the door slam shut behind him.
"Look at me," he commanded.
She forced her gaze up, her heart hammering. His eyes were dark, furious, but there was something else there—something she couldn’t name.
"Do you know what I do to traitors?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft.
She swallowed. "You kill them."
"Yes." He took another step closer. "So why are you still breathing?"
She had no answer.
Mr. Scar paced the room like a caged animal, his fists clenched.
"I should have slit your throat the moment I found out," he snarled. "Should have let Kazeem find your body in the river."
Jessica flinched but didn’t look away.
"Then why didn’t you?" she whispered.
He stopped. Turned. Stared at her like she was a puzzle he couldn’t solve.
That was the moment she saw it—the flicker of something in his eyes. Not just anger.
Confusion.
He didn’t understand why he hadn’t killed her.
And that terrified him.
Over the next week, Jessica learned two things:
1. Mr. Scar hated her.
2. Mr. Scar protected her.
No one was allowed near her room. Not his men, not the maids, no one. When one of his guards leered at her through the door slot, the man was gone by morning. Rumor said Mr. Scar broke his fingers.
She was kept fed, unharmed, even given books to read. But the door never unlocked.
And every night, like clockwork, he came.
Sometimes he yelled. Sometimes he just stared at her in silence, his jaw tight, like he was fighting himself.
Once, in a moment of reckless bravery, Jessica asked:
"What are you waiting for?"
His answer was a low growl. "To figure out why I haven’t killed you yet."
Then came the nightmare.
Jessica woke screaming, sweat soaking her shirt, the memory of Kazeem’s knife at her throat still fresh.
The door burst open. Mr. Scar stood there, gun in hand, his eyes wild.
"What happened?" he demanded.
She trembled, unable to speak.
For a long moment, they just stared at each other. Then, slowly, he lowered the gun.
And did something she never expected.
He sat on the edge of her bed.
"Tell me," he said, his voice rough but not unkind.
So she did.
And for the first time, he listened.
As dawn broke, Mr. Scar stood to leave. But at the door, he paused.
"You’re not leaving this room," he said. "But no one will hurt you. Not even me."
Jessica looked up, exhausted, confused. "Why?"
His hand tightened on the doorframe.
"Because I don’t kill what’s mine."
And with that, he was gone.
TO BE CONTINUED...

*Things women love during making love but afraid to tell you

for married!!👇🏻

Sexual rejection from a husband can make a woman see herself as less desirable and ruin her self esteem by 80%! One of the ways you can boost your wife's self esteem is to make her know she is super hot, super sexy, and sexually desirable to you.

Why is your wife cold in bed and doesn't respond sexually to you? Why does she hate sex? Why is she frigid? May be because you don't know these10 things and she is sick or afraid of telling you. Get to know them now and set her loose from all inhibition. By the time you are through and practice them continuously, your wife should have become a glorified husband seductress you never imagined! Let's go!

1. WOMEN LOVE VARIETY IN BED: Same touch, same way, same method, same place, same time is super boring to a woman! Women love adventure. That is why we don't wear same clothe 7 days a week. Variety is the spice of sex. How you touch her yesterday may not be how she wants to be touched today. She may want back rub yesterday but toe massage today. It is your job to notice her, read her like a book and know when she wants passion or tenderness.

2. WOMEN LOVE ROMANCE: gentle, passionate kisses, soft touches at the right places gradually sets a woman on fire!

3. WOMEN LOVE TO TALK BEFORE SEX. Listening to her about how her day went makes you super sexy to a woman. Do not undress her till you have undressed her heart.

4. WOMEN LOVE TO BE ON TOP: may be not all women but most. It keeps her in charge, control the depth and watch you enjoy her front view.

5. WOMEN WILL GLADLY GIVE A QUICKIE IN THE KITCHEN, TOILET, ANYWHERE, any how you want it if you will respect her, show love, be tender, affectionate and not see her as a sex object for quick release.

6. WOMEN LOVE TO HAVE THEIR CLITORIS STROKED TENDERLY, affectionately, appropriately at the right time before and during sex.

7. WOMEN DON'T CARE ABOUT THE SIZE OF YOUR P*NIS AS LONG AS YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE GOOD USE OF IT, hit the right place, position at the right angle and get her moan in pleasure.

8. WOMEN WILL GLADLY OBLIGE TO ANY SEXUAL POSITION AS LONG AS IT GIVES HER ORGASM.

9. THE FUEL OF SEXUAL PASSION FOR A WOMAN IS LOVE, CARE, ATTENTION, AFFECTION AND GENEROSITY WHICH YOU MAKE A LIFESTYLE, give her all the time not just at the moment you want sex. It makes her bond with you emotionally and eagerly makes love to you.

10. WOMEN LOVE LONG DRIVE AND HATE PREMATURE EJACULATION. If you can withhold long enough before shooting and give her some pleasure, she will enjoy love making, enjoy you, pursue you and eagerly have sex with you.

Note that SEX IS STRICTLY FOR THE MARRIED.

The post is strictly for legally married couples not kids who should be facing their studies. If you go into premarital sex, you lose favour with God, experience shame, sorrow and a crises laden marriage awaits you.

Waiting for sex in marriage pays. You will have all the sex you want and enjoy it to the maximum if you do things right!

There is absolutely no need to rush. May your marital sex life catch fire!

Thanks for reading and sharing to educate others,

Give true love always and be faithful to your partner.

May God bless our Marriage ✍🏻

Today, I sat with grief.
There was no noise, no distractions, just me and the weight in my heart.
I thought if I stayed silent long enough, maybe grief would slip away.
But it stayed beside me, patient and still.
I tried to turn my back on it,
hoping it would lose its way.
But wherever I moved, it moved too,
like a shadow I couldn’t outrun.
This wasn’t a game—it was real, and it was heavy.
I changed rooms, changed scenery,
but grief was always there, waiting for me,
with a tear-streaked face that mirrored my own sadness.
I asked it why it wouldn’t leave,
why it clung to me so tightly.
But grief never answered,
because grief doesn’t need to.
So instead of pushing it away,
I let it sit beside me.
I stopped pretending I was fine.
I allowed myself to feel everything,
to show every crack, every broken piece.
Grief didn’t ask questions.
It didn’t rush me to heal.
It just stayed, patiently,
while I learned to breathe again.
Grief ate with me,
slept with me,
walked with me.
And slowly, I understood—
even if grief someday grows quieter,
the love behind it will never leave.
Because you are still gone,
and part of me will always miss you.
But sitting with grief?
It’s how I honor what was real.

Imagine having a man who ignores you when you're speaking from the depths of your heart. You're not yelling, you're not accusing... you're just trying to express how you feel. And as you sit there, waiting in silence, hoping for a simple sign of care or concern, you get nothing. Just five long, painful minutes of silence. Then finally, the only words he offers are, "I have nothing to say."
Imagine how small that makes a woman feel.
Now picture this being your reality night after night. You’re crying in the dark, wiping tears off your face quietly so you don’t disturb him… and he’s fast asleep.
Peaceful. Unbothered. Telling you he needs rest because he has work in the morning. As if your emotional pain should be scheduled around his convenience. As if your hurt isn’t valid simply because he’s tired.
Imagine loving someone so much that all you want is to feel the same energy you felt when things were new… when he couldn’t go a day without complimenting you, when he actually listened, when he tried. When you weren’t begging for effort. When he made you feel like his world. Now, all you’re asking for is that same version of him… but he no longer sees the need.
And now… imagine this becoming your *everyday*.
It’s not one bad day. It’s a routine of silence. Of walking on eggshells. Of trying to explain yourself over and over just to be met with nothing. Of being in a relationship that makes you feel lonelier than being single ever did. And that’s what hurts the most… giving your heart to someone who holds it with indifference. Being in love with someone who makes you feel like a burden for simply wanting to be loved right.
You deserve more than someone who turns his back on your emotions.
You deserve presence, not just physical, but emotional. You deserve consistency, not just in the beginning, but throughout. And you deserve to be heard… really heard… not just tolerated in silence.

20 Sentences I Wish I'd Read Sooner in Life

1. Action is the antidote to anxiety.
2. You get 4,000 weeks if you're lucky. Stop waiting.
3. Notice the people who bring out your favorite version of yourself.
4. You teach people how to treat you by what you tolerate.
5. Growth happens when you do things you feel unqualified to do.
6. "The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek."
7. If you don't schedule your priorities, someone else will.
8. The most dangerous addiction is the approval of other people.
9. Burnout happens when you treat rest as a reward rather than a right.
10. You'll never regret investing in your health, learning, or relationships.
11. Normalize not having an opinion on things you aren't informed on.
12. The only person who's going to magically show up to save you-is you.
13. Your habits are the silent architects of your life.
14. Discipline is choosing what you want most over what you want now.
15. The people who matter won't leave you for having boundaries.
16. Your worth isn't tied to your productivity.
17. Reach out to people just because they crossed your mind.
18. Not everything requires your reaction-silence is a response, too.
19. Action creates motivation-not the other way around.
20. You can literally change your life any day-you can wake up tomorrow and decide that you want something different.