Memory floods back as I lie here, the soft glow of evening light filtering through the curtains. The geometric patterns dance on the walls, a silent witness to the day’s events. I remember the moment he walked in, my ex, his eyes hungry and familiar. He knew exactly what he wanted, and I was too weak to resist. The pink and green of my underwear seemed to fade as his hands explored, his touch igniting a fire I thought was long extinguished.
What Happened When He Returned?
And then, the unexpected. The door creaked open, and there he was, my husband, home early. I froze, my heart pounding, but my ex just smiled, a cocky grin that said it all. He didn’t care, and neither did I, not really. The thrill of being caught, the rush of adrenaline, it was intoxicating. I watched as my husband’s eyes widened, taking in the scene. He didn’t say a word, just stood there, a silent observer. And then, my ex, with a final, triumphant thrust, finished inside me, leaving his mark. I lay there, a mess of emotions and satisfaction, as my husband turned and walked away, leaving me to clean up the creampie.



