Watford Wildness
"Football physio Adaeze treats injuries at Watford FC—but the thick Nigerian WAG who comes to her clinic for a twisted ankle wants treatment of a very different kind."
Obiageli Okonkwo was Premier League royalty.
Married to Watford's star striker, thick and beautiful, dripping in designer everything. She twisted her ankle at a charity event and demanded "the best physio."
That was Adaeze.
"It's a minor sprain," Adaeze diagnosed.
"I want to be sure." Those eyes held something else. "Very thorough examination, please."
The examination became intimate.
Adaeze's hands on that thick ankle, traveling higher for "muscle assessment."
"Your technique is excellent," Obiageli murmured.
"I'm very trained."
"I can tell." Her hand found Adaeze's. "My husband travels constantly. I'm alone most nights."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Are you? Or are you interested?"
"This could ruin us both."
"Or it could be exactly what we need." Obiageli pulled her closer. "I have money. I have status. I have nothing real. Give me something real."
"Your husband—"
"Has girlfriends in every city. This marriage is business. I deserve pleasure."
She kissed Adaeze before she could argue.
The clinic door locked.
Obiageli directed everything—on the treatment table, against the wall, wherever her desires led.
"You're beautiful," she gasped as Adaeze's fingers worked magic. "God, you're good at this."
"Professional expertise."
"Show me more."
The affair became regular.
Obiageli would book "physiotherapy sessions" that lasted hours.
"People will notice," Adaeze warned.
"Let them. I'm getting treatment for an injury." That wicked smile. "A very persistent injury."
"That never seems to heal."
"Some things shouldn't heal. They should just keep getting attention."
The arrangement continued for seasons.
Watford's most famous WAG and her private physio.
Tabloids wondered about the friendship.
They never guessed the truth.
"Best treatment I've ever received," Obiageli would say.
Adaeze would smile and book another appointment.