Author's Note: Hope you enjoy this. Don't forget to comment and rate! Cheers!
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They said he had returned a week ago from England and that this time he was a changed man. Comfort did not believe it. As long as there was a moon and a sun, Stanley would never change. He had been popular mostly amongst the women of the church, and Comfort had little doubt he still was, judging from their excited chatters that always seemed to centre on him.
Comfort demurred to give into the temptation to gossip about him or think of him. Even when her husband, the church's pastor, commented on Stanley's newfound behaviour at dinnertimes, she remained obdurate on her resolution, keeping her speculations in a sealed can.
Then she met him on Sunday, and her stubborn wall cracked. Stanley was a good 6 feet tall, broad shouldered and balding. He had eyes that appeared to emit a strange, spellbinding energy; when he stared at you, you felt your body grow warm and you couldn't look away. She was staring into those eyes right now, smiling as he greeted her. He shook her hand, a polite gesture, and Comfort was amazed at how big his hand was.
'Comfort. Glad to see you again after all these months,' Stanley said, smiling that easy, charming smile of his that got most women giggling like school girls.
'I hope you're back to stay,' Comfort said, stumping the creeping pleasant effect his sharp, liquid brown eyes had on her. She wasn't like most women. She was devoted to her husband, to her church.
'I hope so too.'
Stanley had fled the country – according to hearsay – four months ago when his affair with a string of married women had been exposed by one of his jilted girlfriends. There had been no evidence, of course, and the supposed women he had slept with had vehemently denied the accusations of infidelity.
Comfort didn't need evidence to know Stanley had slept with those women. He had a rather strong sex appeal, and when he tossed it at any woman who showed the slightest interest in him, she crawled into his bed without thinking of the consequences.
She had almost been one of them. Almost.
Comfort and Stanley had struck a friendship back in the days. They had been very close. They had talked an awful lot, and occasionally they had flirted. Stanley never took it to the next level, but Comfort knew if he had, she would have been without a doubt one of his victims.
Comfort spent the rest of the day teaching the young ones, and then joined the women of the church in a fellowship prayer at midday. The small gathering broke at around 4pm and Comfort took her bible and purse to her car. On her way to the car park, she saw Stanley and Mr Obi talking and laughing beside Mr Obi's silver Mercedes. Mr Obi was one of the church's prestigious and respected members, and if he was taking his time to chat to Stanley, then Stanley really must have turned a new leaf.
At home, Comfort wondered what Stanley was up to, if he had eaten (he never could cook), whether he had a steady job to support himself (unlike the last time), if the recurring nightmare of his father dying in his arms still kept him from sleeping well.
Her phone rang and she answered it.
'Hello?'
'Hey,' said Stanley's rich, rumbling voice.
'Stanley.' Comfort's heart drummed faster. 'How are you?'
'I'm fine. Just wanted to know how you're doing.'
'I'm okay. The kids are downstairs and my husband is in his room, praying.'
'Always praying, that man. Guess that's why he's the pastor of the church.'
Comfort laughed at Stanley's familiar, age-long joke. Some things hadn't changed about him.
'I called to get the list of ingredients for that soup you made me months ago,' Stanley said.
'I knew it. You still can't cook,' Comfort said, grinning.
Stanley chuckled. It sounded good.
'Yeah, yeah, you got me.'
Comfort remained on the phone with him for hours, talking about food, his time away from the church, his work and so many other things.
Their tight friendship, the one she had thought long dead and forgotten, was reborn that night.
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The chitchats behind hands and closed doors about Stanley did not cease, and the longer he stayed the more prominent they became. Stanley really had changed, from what Comfort had witnessed. He helped out more often and was always willing to volunteer for work he normally avoided. He even became a regular teacher at the children's section, under Comfort's mentorship. They had a lot of fun sitting next to each other, lecturing the young ones on the life's lessons acquired from the bible stories they read.
Then Stanley missed church one Sunday. No one thought too much of it; it was Stanley after all. But Comfort was worried. She did not want her friend reverting to his old ways. She loved the new Stanley, with his sexy, delightful demeanour, and his penchant for working in the house of God.
On Tuesday, Comfort was driving home from the market when she decided, on the spur of the moment, to visit Stanley and see how he was doing. She told her husband via a text where she was headed.
Stanley lived in a shabby estate. The walls of the storey buildings around were filthy and disheartening. Comfort felt sorry her friend had to stay here. Perhaps he should have put the money he had used to fly to England to better use.
She found his apartment block and climbed to the fourth floor. Before she knocked on his door she inspected herself: her blue, knee-length dress had no unnecessary creases on it, and it embraced her plump figure well, accentuating her large bosom and ample ass. Comfort pushed her breasts out, and then frowned at her behaviour. What was she doing? She was married. She shouldn't be acting like she was visiting a high school crush.
But that was the way it was with Comfort these days. She always ensured she looked her best whenever Stanley was around, and she tended to flaunt the parts of her she knew he loved: her large breasts and massive buttocks. Some men made you feel fat and unattractive; Stanley made you feel like you were the sexiest being on earth, and it was a wonderful feeling. That's why most women loved him.
Comfort shrugged. Stanley would never take things too far with her anyways. She was the pastor's wife, and Stanley had immense respect for the pastor, the man who had quelled the growing hate-mob that had been out for Stanley's head months ago when it emerged that he had slept with those women.
The door opened and Stanley poked his head out. The instant he saw it was Comfort his grimace morphed into a grin.
'Hey, Comfort, come in!' He stood aside for her.
Comfort, looking and feeling a tad embarrassed, walked in. Stanley shut the door and hugged her tightly.
'What was that for?' Comfort asked when they broke apart.
'For visiting me. No one does that.'
'You weren't at church last Sunday, so I thought I should find out if you're okay,' Comfort told him.
'Oh, I'm fine.' He grinned, excited as a child who had just been handed the best Christmas present ever.
'Did something happen to you?' Comfort asked.
'Please, sit,' Stanley said, chuckling. He directed her to a cushion, and then sat in an empty seat, facing her.
