A week after I’d been glued to my husband, preventing him from seeing his mistress, he suddenly told me we were having guests and I should prepare a meal.I was puzzled. He’s usually cold and distant, not one for socializing. We’ve been married this long, and he’s never invited anyone over before. Why the sudden invitation?As I waited for my husband and his friend, I saw a familiar face. His "friend" was Samuel!Samuel greeted me, “Mrs., we meet again!”My eyes darted between my husband and Samuel. I remembered the dashcam recording where my husband said Samuel’s plan had failed and he needed another chance. So that’s what this was.I pretended I knew nothing, asking my husband,“Why is Samuel here? Are you close?”He stammered,“He used to do yard work here. We see each other all the time, right? Since we’re so ‘destined’ to meet, why not get to know each other better? Honey, go buy some wine. I'm going to have a good drink with Samuel!”A bad feeling crept into my he
My name's Wendy, and I'm a thirty-year-old stay-at-home wife.When my husband, Mark, and I first started dating, I felt cherished and vibrant. We knew each other's bodies intimately, experimenting with everything. We were constantly in that honeymoon phase; we even got it on in his office once—talk about a thrill!Mark is amazing. He's handsome, successful, and utterly spoiled me.But six months ago, things changed. My happy marriage turned into a sexless one. He started working late all the time, and that thing became an afterthought.On our anniversary, I slipped into my black lace lingerie, hoping to reignite the spark. I wanted to reconnect.I wrapped my arms around him, whispering in his ear, "Honey, I want you."He pushed me away. "You stay home all day; you don't know how hard I work. Can't you be a little more understanding?"I was stunned. A wave of disappointment washed over me. I hadn't changed, but he had. His words lacked the tenderness he used to show me, rep
Samuel's voice startled me awake. I quickly removed my hand, smoothing down my dress."What is it?" I asked, trying to sound calm."Madam, could you come outside for a moment?"I suppressed my arousal, got out of bed, and went to the bathroom to splash water on my face and compose myself.Samuel was urging me from the yard. I quickly threw on a jacket and shouted,"Coming, coming."I slowly walked towards him. He smiled and waved. This man's hormones were incredibly potent; I was already attracted to him before I even got close."What is it, Samuel?" I pursed my lips, forcing my gaze away from him and onto the garden flowers.Samuel held a saw, his arms moving as if he was showing off his muscles. He smiled and said,"I can't trim these branches alone. Could you please help me pull them down?"I bit my lip and nodded, tiptoeing to reach the branches. I called to Samuel,"You come over here and trim them. I'll pull them down for you."Samuel walked towards me with the saw.
Samuel was oblivious to my discomfort, scooping me up in his arms."Don't move, my dear. I'll get you to bed."His scent, thick with hormones, filled my senses. Blushing, I inhaled deeply. The room still held the lingering aroma of our passion.Then I remembered the mess on the bed. By the time Samuel carried me inside, it was too late; the soaked sheets were undeniable.He smirked, "My dear, it seems your husband isn't quite meeting your needs."My face burned. I frantically pulled the covers over the stain, stammering,"No, it's not like that."Samuel chuckled, a smoldering intensity in his eyes, a smile both alluring and unsettling. Shame and embarrassment washed over me; I wanted him gone.But Samuel said,"Let me apply some ointment, or your ankle will be stiff for days."I looked at my swollen, throbbing ankle, and agreed."It's in the bedside table drawer."Samuel retrieved the ointment, his movements showcasing his powerful physique, making me blush again.That sa
I struggled and thrashed, but I couldn't shake Samuel off. He held me down tight. I heard footsteps getting closer outside the door, and only one thought filled my head: I'm doomed!In a desperate move, I shoved Samuel hard into the clothes rack. A bunch of hangers came crashing down, hitting him on the head. He slumped to the floor, completely incapacitated.I quickly put on my clothes, composed myself, and left the bathroom.As I exited, Mark was just about to enter. I looked at him guiltily. "Honey, why are you back so suddenly?"Mark looked toward the bathroom, confused. He peered inside, but I quickly blocked his view.He raised an eyebrow. "What was that noise? Is someone else here?"His question terrified me. My legs felt weak. I stammered, "No, a hanger fell. I was just putting them away in the room."I pulled him out of the bathroom, changing the subject. "Hey Mark, why'd you come back? Did you forget something?"Mark's gaze flickered toward the yard. "Yeah, I forg
A week after I’d been glued to my husband, preventing him from seeing his mistress, he suddenly told me we were having guests and I should prepare a meal.I was puzzled. He’s usually cold and distant, not one for socializing. We’ve been married this long, and he’s never invited anyone over before. Why the sudden invitation?As I waited for my husband and his friend, I saw a familiar face. His "friend" was Samuel!Samuel greeted me, “Mrs., we meet again!”My eyes darted between my husband and Samuel. I remembered the dashcam recording where my husband said Samuel’s plan had failed and he needed another chance. So that’s what this was.I pretended I knew nothing, asking my husband,“Why is Samuel here? Are you close?”He stammered,“He used to do yard work here. We see each other all the time, right? Since we’re so ‘destined’ to meet, why not get to know each other better? Honey, go buy some wine. I'm going to have a good drink with Samuel!”A bad feeling crept into my he
After what Samuel said, I started watching my husband.Before, I believed in trust between husband and wife, never checking his phone or email.But since I started suspecting him, I've noticed more and more things.He's always sneaking off to use his phone, and at night, he keeps it under his pillow, like he's hiding it.Sometimes he laughs at his phone, all by himself.All this shows me he's seeing someone else!When he was in the shower, I snuck his phone. I wanted to see who his side chick was.But I searched high and low, and there was nothing. His messages were wiped clean, no trace left.He's too careful. No proof whatsoever.I talked to a lawyer. We drafted divorce papers, and I want him to leave with nothing.The lawyer said I need proof of his cheating; otherwise, he might not have to give up everything.He also said the Samuel chat logs aren't enough proof. They're incomplete and could be faked. They don't hold up in court.My husband is too smart; there's nothing
I struggled and thrashed, but I couldn't shake Samuel off. He held me down tight. I heard footsteps getting closer outside the door, and only one thought filled my head: I'm doomed!In a desperate move, I shoved Samuel hard into the clothes rack. A bunch of hangers came crashing down, hitting him on the head. He slumped to the floor, completely incapacitated.I quickly put on my clothes, composed myself, and left the bathroom.As I exited, Mark was just about to enter. I looked at him guiltily. "Honey, why are you back so suddenly?"Mark looked toward the bathroom, confused. He peered inside, but I quickly blocked his view.He raised an eyebrow. "What was that noise? Is someone else here?"His question terrified me. My legs felt weak. I stammered, "No, a hanger fell. I was just putting them away in the room."I pulled him out of the bathroom, changing the subject. "Hey Mark, why'd you come back? Did you forget something?"Mark's gaze flickered toward the yard. "Yeah, I forg
Samuel was oblivious to my discomfort, scooping me up in his arms."Don't move, my dear. I'll get you to bed."His scent, thick with hormones, filled my senses. Blushing, I inhaled deeply. The room still held the lingering aroma of our passion.Then I remembered the mess on the bed. By the time Samuel carried me inside, it was too late; the soaked sheets were undeniable.He smirked, "My dear, it seems your husband isn't quite meeting your needs."My face burned. I frantically pulled the covers over the stain, stammering,"No, it's not like that."Samuel chuckled, a smoldering intensity in his eyes, a smile both alluring and unsettling. Shame and embarrassment washed over me; I wanted him gone.But Samuel said,"Let me apply some ointment, or your ankle will be stiff for days."I looked at my swollen, throbbing ankle, and agreed."It's in the bedside table drawer."Samuel retrieved the ointment, his movements showcasing his powerful physique, making me blush again.That sa
Samuel's voice startled me awake. I quickly removed my hand, smoothing down my dress."What is it?" I asked, trying to sound calm."Madam, could you come outside for a moment?"I suppressed my arousal, got out of bed, and went to the bathroom to splash water on my face and compose myself.Samuel was urging me from the yard. I quickly threw on a jacket and shouted,"Coming, coming."I slowly walked towards him. He smiled and waved. This man's hormones were incredibly potent; I was already attracted to him before I even got close."What is it, Samuel?" I pursed my lips, forcing my gaze away from him and onto the garden flowers.Samuel held a saw, his arms moving as if he was showing off his muscles. He smiled and said,"I can't trim these branches alone. Could you please help me pull them down?"I bit my lip and nodded, tiptoeing to reach the branches. I called to Samuel,"You come over here and trim them. I'll pull them down for you."Samuel walked towards me with the saw.
My name's Wendy, and I'm a thirty-year-old stay-at-home wife.When my husband, Mark, and I first started dating, I felt cherished and vibrant. We knew each other's bodies intimately, experimenting with everything. We were constantly in that honeymoon phase; we even got it on in his office once—talk about a thrill!Mark is amazing. He's handsome, successful, and utterly spoiled me.But six months ago, things changed. My happy marriage turned into a sexless one. He started working late all the time, and that thing became an afterthought.On our anniversary, I slipped into my black lace lingerie, hoping to reignite the spark. I wanted to reconnect.I wrapped my arms around him, whispering in his ear, "Honey, I want you."He pushed me away. "You stay home all day; you don't know how hard I work. Can't you be a little more understanding?"I was stunned. A wave of disappointment washed over me. I hadn't changed, but he had. His words lacked the tenderness he used to show me, rep