My boss, my lover

My husband was forty-five and I was thirty. We had been married for ten years and had two boys; aged ten and seven. We had an okay life. We rented two rooms in the high density suburb of Lobengula West in Bulawayo; the second largest city of Zimbabwe.

            My husband had managed to acquire a residential stand in the sprawling suburb of Cowdry Park and we hadn’t started developing it as yet: We were hoping to one day develop it and own our own house. That dream was shuttered when my husband’s employer; a textile company shut down its operations and and relocated to Harare. Six months after the closure of the company, the severance packages promised the hundreds of workers who had lost their jobs had not come and we had to sell our stand in Cowdry Park.

            Our landlord was very patient but he was going to evict us from our lodgings at the end of month. We had received our final letter of demand from our sons’ school. So when I went to Sparkling Clean cleaners to look for a job, I was trying to fish my family out of this impossible situation it found itself in. I have been judged harshly for what I did, that’s why I thought I should give you give you some background to the story. When I went to Sparkling Clean cleaners, I was looking for any kind job, but most likely a cleaning job.

            There was no receptionist when I got to the company premises along Lobengula street. I walked in and  and then walked back out and knocked on the door. A  man about my husband’s age appeared and regarded me suspiciously.

“Yes?” He said and looked me in the eyes. I told him what I wanted; a job, any kind of job. He pulled a chair to the desk and sat down and was silent for what seemed like an eternity.

“Jobs are hard to come by and there are so many of you who are looking for jobs. What can you offer so that I can consider you ahead of the others?”

“If I had anything to offer, I would. But I am a poor woman who is desperate for a job.”

“But you are willing to offer anything for this job?”

I knew what he wanted and I had to make a quick decision. He made it easier for me by jumping to his feet and inviting me to his office which was a tiny cubicle with hardly any free space. I wondered where everyone else was. I realised later that there was no one else: The many women who did the cleaning all over the city were part-time employees.

            He shut the office door and wasted no time at all as my skirt and panties lay on the floor and I was holding the desk in no time at all. I shut my eyes, gripped the edge of the desk and waited for the ordeal to come to an end. He was done in a few minutes. Whilst in the process of pulling up his trousers he said:

“You start at eight tomorrow morning.”

I didn’t know what I was starting tomorrow morning, but I was too ashamed of myself to ask. It hadn’t been as easy as I thought it was going to be. I was devastated. Even thinking of my starving family did not help at that moment. I dressed up and fled.

            When I got home, I locked myself in the bathroom, cried a lot, took a bath, breathed in heavily and exhaled. I was ready to face my husband. I told him I had found a job as a cleaner. He was overjoyed.  I told him I was actually a receptionist the next day when my new boss told me that was my job. He laughed when I told him I thought I was going to be a cleaner.

“What! A beautiful woman like you can’t be a cleaner?”

The other thing I was wrong about was thinking that the copulation that had been used as my job interview was going to be a once off thing. When he attempted to pull me into his office, I threatened to quit the job. He seemed genuinely shocked.

“But I thought you were okay with this.”

“I allowed you to do what you did yesterday because I was desperate for a job.”

He was silent for a very long time. Did he honestly not know that what he had done was rape: Well, maybe not exactly rape since I had not said I was not interested and he had not used  any force. But surely he knew he had used the prospects of employment as bait. Surely he knew I was desperate for a job. Everyone, including me, knew that my threat to quit was an idle threat. I held the desk once more.

            Over the next few weeks, the relationship with my boss developed from sex in the office, to lunches, dinners and sex in lodges and eventually at his place. My husband found a job in South Africa and when he came back three months later, I refused to have sex with him. He took my hand and looked me in the eye.

“I knew I had lost you the day you told me you were not a cleaner but a receptionist.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I wasn’t a man anymore: I couldn’t take care of my family like a man should. I was hoping I would get you back the day I became a man again.”

I took him into my arms and one hour later, we lay naked and highly satisfied in each other’s arms.