Your Wife's Revenge

She plants one last kiss on your cheek out on the motel balcony and tells you to text tonight about that next business trip. You climb in the car, fire off the usual lie to the wife, then roll into the driveway and spot a strange car already there. Front door wide open. You bust inside and freeze in the kitchen doorway. Sarah Vandella's sitting at the table with your boss Seth Gamble, both of them looking like executioners. She snatches her phone, waves it in your face. 'Convention went great?' Before you can open your mouth she barks you to shut the fuck up. She already called him, already knows you've been sneaking around. One shove and you're on the couch. The diamond ring hits you in the chest. It's over, she spits, and she's done with your sorry ass. Seth stands, rests a hand on your shoulder like he's doing you a favor. Everybody cheats, he says, but you gotta be smart. Then he lays it out plain: he keeps his mouth shut at work if you let him fuck your wife right now while you watch. Win-win. Sarah doesn't flinch when he grabs her big tits through her shirt; she actually leans into it. She mocks how clumsy you always are with her bra, how quick you jam your little dick in. Now she wants the real thing. She yanks Seth's cock out, shows it off, grins at you while she wraps her lips around it and starts swallowing him deep, eyes locked on yours the whole time. Blonde hair swinging, tits bouncing, every sloppy gulp a fresh slap in your face. You thought you could lie your way out. Turns out the only thing you're getting is exactly what you earned.