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560words
Our sex life wasn't super frequent before, but it was always pretty good.
Except for that time he wanted me to get on all fours and bark like a dog, which I refused, I usually went along with his ideas.
I called my best friend to complain and ask for advice, but her response hit me like a ton of bricks.
My husband was probably cheating.
I immediately hired a private investigator to look into John.
The PI worked fast. Maybe John wasn't even trying to hide it.
On the third day, I received a compromising photo of him and another woman.
It was taken in front of a floor-to-ceiling window.
I recognized it as the villa John bought in the suburbs. He'd given me the key of it.
Pressed against the glass was a sexy woman, roughly tied with rope.
I'd seen this kind of tie on John's phone before, something called a "rope harness".
I didn't get a good look then because John quickly snatched the phone, turned it off, and scolded me for snooping.
The woman in the photo faced the window. The only things covering her were the ropes and her messy hair.
I unbuttoned my shirt, examining myself in the mirror with shame.
The woman in the photo was at least a D-cup. I was just a regular B.
Sure, pink might be cute, but the tips of that woman had swollen to deep, overflowing purple, which were much more tempting.
That woman radiated a mature sexiness even through the photo.
The PI had a weird angle.
I couldn't see the woman's face, but every other detail was crystal clear.
As for John, he looked like a wild animal. I could see the sticky trails on the glass.
My mouth felt dry.
A month without sex, seeing that incredibly tempting photo made me hot and bothered.
I almost wished it was me in that picture.
I remembered my husband's strong body on our honeymoon, that feeling of being completely filled.
He would teasingly ask me then.
"Feels good, doesn't it?"
"You like it when I do this, babe?"
Looking at the two in the photo, my hand somehow found the empty wine bottle I hadn't thrown out from drowning my sorrows a few days ago.
"Ding!"
A sudden notification on my phone snapped me out of my daze, and I quickly pulled my hand back from the bottle.
How... how could I think about using it!
I remembered a few months ago, John held a bottle and asked me suggestively.
"Hey babe, look at this."
"Think it could fit?"
I thought he was joking then and told him to get lost, but now I couldn't help imagining it.
If that bottle had really...
The cool glass, my heated body...
"Pop. Pop."
I shakily brought the bottle close, making suggestive sounds.
"Slap!"
I slapped my own face hard, deciding to stop these crazy thoughts.
"Chloe, how can you be so cheap!"
Furious and embarrassed, I threw the bottle aside, forcing myself not to look at it.
I clicked on the new chat message on my phone. It was from John.
"Babe, big dinner meeting tonight, a huge deal. Won't be home for dinner."
