Chapter 1 — My Husband's Friend (1)

My husband came home just before midnight—drunk, stumbling, and dragging his friend along with him. Both were completely wasted, yet they demanded I pour another round of drinks.

With Daniel Park there, I couldn't just refuse…

But before the bottles were even empty, they both collapsed, passed out. The living room reeked of alcohol, thick and suffocating.

“Ugh, that damn nuisance! I waited all night, hoping for something… Well, whatever. Might as well sleep. What do I have to expect from my miserable fate?”

I'd dreamed of a wild, passionate night, had scrubbed myself clean, body tingling with anticipation—only for it all to end like this. The disappointment hit me like a hollow ache, as if a hole had been punched straight through my chest.

I was sent to bed alone while they sprawled across the living room couch. Sleep? How could I possibly sleep?

I'd washed and washed again, my body aching for release, craving touch…

Tossing and turning, I finally drifted off—only to wake in a daze, unsure if I was dreaming or awake.

A sharp, searing warmth spread from my pussy, and instinctively, I prayed—if this is a dream, don't let me wake up. I let myself sink into it, quietly savoring the sensation.

But the feeling was too vivid, too real. Something was wrong. I tried to stir, to open my eyes—only to feel something hot, hard, and thick push deep inside me.

“Huh—? Who—?”

“Shh! You'll wake your husband…”

No. It can't be.

I turned my eyes toward the living room, but the door was shut tight, blocking the view.

There he was—Michael Han's friend, the one who'd come in drunk just hours ago—lifting my leg high, thrusting into me from behind, pounding me with relentless force.

And my husband? Fast asleep in the next room.

The thought sent a jolt of electric excitement through me—so intense I trembled.

“W-what if he wakes up? We're both dead! Pull out—please!”

“He's already inside. Does pulling out fix anything now? Just enjoy it. Let this be our secret…”

“Ugh…”

“Feels good, doesn't it?”

“Y-yes… but hurry. I'm so scared…”

“I know. I'll make it fast. But damn… your pussy… I've never had one this good…”

He's talking about my pussy—Michael Han's friend—

And yet, hearing those words from a man's mouth—his mouth—sent me spiraling into arousal I couldn't control.

“Uhh… yes, harder… fuck me harder. Ahh…”

My husband would've finished long ago, but this man kept going, thrusting deeper, stronger—my clit burning, my mind blanking, my body on fire.

I no longer cared who was in the next room. I didn't care that this was my husband's best friend. I didn't care about anything except the heat consuming me.

If I didn't burn it all out now, I'd burn alive.

“Ahh… more… give me more… harder! Ahh—so good…!”

“Uhh… I'm coming… I can't hold it…!”

“Cum… cum inside me. Fill my pussy—do it now!”

“Uhh… ugh…!”

“Ahh… ahh… ughhh…!”

I'd never felt an orgasm like this—not since I'd started truly feeling pleasure. Was it because it was forbidden? Because my husband was just beyond the wall, snoring, unaware?

Even after he came, his cock stayed hard—throbbing, pulsing—moving gently inside me, savoring the aftermath. And I loved it. I never wanted it to end.

“Ugh…”

With one final, deep thrust, he slowly pulled out—leaving me aching, empty, wanting.

“If my friend wakes up, just tell him I left without a word…”

“And next time… let's do it again. Tonight was… incredible.”

I loved it too—the words rose in my throat, but I swallowed them down.

Now, all that's left is to wash myself clean, step back into my life, and pretend nothing ever happened.

In the living room, my husband snores, lost in deep, ignorant sleep.

He has no idea his wife just spread her legs for his best friend.