Wife Comes Home Late

This is a very short scene I put together this afternoon. I saw a video featuring Lady Sonia [Gill Ellis-Young] a few years ago. I worked it into this little second=person POV scene. Not my usual 'thing,' but... here it is.

Thanks for reading. I hope you get something out of it.

Oh, I put this in Fetish so's not to antagonise the Loving Wives crowd.

GA - Cambridge, UK - 26th September 2023

Your wife goes out for lunch and a couple of drinks with her friend. She leaves the house at 1 p,m. You compliment her because, well, frankly, she's looking good in a blue dress that shows off just the right amount of decolletage. There's cleavage, a nice deep crease between her breasts. Her make-up is subtle and her hair is teased to perfection.

She smells so good when you hug her and kiss her cheek and tell her to have fun.

Your wife gets into the taxi. She smiles and waggles her fingers.

Six hours later you send a text. You get a reply almost immediately: she's having one last drink with Gaynor and getting a taxi home.

Four hours after that she finally steps through the door.

You can see it straight away. It's instinct. You know with absolute certainty that she's been up to no good.

Then you notice clues: hasty repairs to hair and make-up; the rumpled dress; the way she won't meet your eye.

You feel that hollow aching void yawn in the pit of your stomach.

She shrugs when you ask her outright.

"I was just leaving," she says. "But I met your boss and he asked if I wanted a drink. I said no but, well, he's very persistent."

You gulp and nod. You don't want to hear it but you push for more detail.

Your wife shrugs and says your boss gave her a lift home in his big, new BMW.

It hits hard when she says: "He's a very good driver."

You question the timeline: four hours to drive eight miles?

Your wife shrugs again. She goes to the sofa.

She sits.

She sighs and looks at you.

Is it pity you see in her eyes?

Then she tells you that they parked in a lay-by.

"Yes, he kissed me."

You want to know if that was all they did. Of course, you already know there was more, you just need her to say it.

"He wanted to fuck me. I told him no. I said I was married..."

She's not looking at you. She's avoiding that contact.

Your wife sighs again.

Then she looks you right in the eyes and says: "I wasn't going to do it. I promise. But he got his cock out and... well... he's quite big. I said I'd wank him off and he'd have to take me home, but I got so wet when I had it in my hand I sucked it."

You're trembling as you hear it, images scrolling across your mind's-eye.

"He was about to come and said we needed to get out of the car. He didn't want to get spunk on the seat.

"So we got out.

"We started kissing.

"He told me to take my dress off. I did.

"He said he wanted to lick me."

Your wife pauses and looks at you with huge eyes full of contrition.

"I'm sorry," she says, "but I let him lick me. I came and he wanted me to suck his cock some more.

"I sucked it and he came on my tits.

"By then I was so fucking horny I was finger-fucking myself..."

Your wife pauses and leans back into the sofa. Her legs go wide and she lifts her dress to show she's not wearing the underwear she went out in.

She sees you looking.

"He wanted a souvenir," she says.

Then your wife starts teasing her clit. She's splaying her labia with the fingers of her other hand, forefinger moving slowly over the swollen, slippery bean.

"I thought we'd get in the car and he'd drive me home," your wife goes on. She shrugs again, fingers still moving down at her vulva. "But no," she adds. "He was still hard and wanted to fuck me.

"I swear I said I couldn't. I said you were waiting.

"But he drove to his flat and asked if I wanted to go in.

"I said we could have one drink and he had to take me home.

"He said yes.

"We had a drink and started kissing. He touched me and I let him finger my pussy," your wife says through a sigh and a quick giggle. "And after he licked me to orgasm again I sort of gave in and let him do it.

"I'm sorry, darling, but he didn't have a condom," your wife puts in.

Which is when you see the creamy dribble seep out of her opening, the milky fluid evidence of the cuckoldry. It's his semen and your wife's cum.

"I told him to take it out but he just kept fucking and... well... he came in me."

You sit and stare at the stuff slipping out of your wife.

Then you hear her say: "I think I want to go on a date with him. He asked me and I'd like to go.

"He's got such a lovely flat.

"It'd just be for one night...

"Or maybe just the weekend.

"No more than Friday night to Sunday night..."

Your wife looks at you, two fingers stirring his cum inside her body. She's holding her lower lip between her teeth. She's sort of smirking.

What are you going to do...?