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I posted a while back about my wife’s flirtatious behavior with my buddy Jake during a weekend he crashed at our place, and I thought that was the worst of it. I was wrong. The flirting, groping, and humiliating jabs I noticed were just the surface. Here’s the continuation of what went down.
Saturday morning, I woke up hungover, at 7am, head pounding. She was in the kitchen, humming, wearing just a white summer bath robe with nothing underneath. Her outfit from the previous night was in the laundry hamper. Jake was laying on the couch. I confronted her quietly: “What was up with you and Jake last night? That grinding was too much.” She rolled her eyes, poured me coffee, and shut me down: “God, you’re so paranoid. Stop overthinking! It’s was just drunk fun. You’re acting jealous, and it’s honestly pathetic. If you weren’t so boring, I wouldn’t need to have fun with Jake.” She brushed my crotch dismissively, smirking: “Go to work, chill out. We’ll be fine.” I also asked her why she was wearing nothing but a tiny bath robe and she said it was because she spilled a lot of wine on her clothes and had to change. She didn’t wanna wake me up so she wore the robe that was outside. I felt like an idiot for questioning her, so I grabbed my keys and left for my weekend shift, completely clueless, watching her boobs bounce as she walked towards Jake with a glass of juice in hand. It seemed that both of them haven’t slept at all.
My mind was occupied with everything that I saw, so I popped home around noon for a quick lunch without letting her know, hoping to smooth things over and also to see what’s up. The house had a weird smell, musky, like sweat and something else I couldn’t place. She was in the kitchen “making lunch,” wearing a tiny excuse of a sports bra, her tits fully visible, nipples pierced and hard, paired with a tiny black thong that outlined her pussy lips, so tight it was practically painted on. She walked, ass jiggling with each step. Jake was at the table, shirtless in gym shorts, his massive dick print visible, almost throbbing, like he’d just been active, both of them covered in sweat. They jumped slightly when I walked in, but she played it cool, pecking my cheek: “Hey, babe, didn’t expect you so soon.” She bent over the counter in front of Jake, thong wedged deep, ass on display, and I swear I saw her pussy lips glistening. I nearly cried asking them what’s going on and what the fun she was wearing. She said they just took a break after an intense workout. “Jake’s showing me squats and he asked me to wear this – said it’s better for checking form,” she said, smirking at me. “Your gym tips are so weak, like you boo.” Jake chuckled, his hand sliding under the table, hands brushing her thigh. She moaned softly, eyes on me: “Jake knows how to push my buttons. You’re just too soft, honey.” I felt my stomach twist but told myself it was just flirting, maybe a bit too far. I left for work, uneasy but still blind to the truth.
I got home around 8 PM, exhausted from work. They were on the couch “watching TV,” her wearing a sexy nighty without anything underneath. She woke up to greet me, and made me grab some wine after, then “accidentally” sat on Jake’s lap, openly dry-humping his cock print through his shorts and said “Oops, I was supposed to sit on the couch and wondered why it was so hard.” She teased, his hands groping her ass. Winking at me like I was a joke. I had early start the next day so I went to bed alone, telling myself it was just more flirting, not wanting to believe worse. As I walked to the room, she was like “Better wear your ear plugs boo. We might be loud.” The noises kept me up, but I didn’t dare check.
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