Chapter 1 — My Wife and... Episode 1, Betrayal

My heart felt like it was about to burst.

How could she do this?

I couldn’t see the man’s face through the slit in the bedroom curtains, but I could clearly see the man’s bare buttocks thrusting vigorously behind my wife, her sizable breasts swaying heavily with each deep penetration.

With every thwap-thwap of the man’s hips slamming forward and back, my wife’s body rocked in rhythm. She clenched her teeth, trying to stifle her moans—but each time the man drove into her with brutal force, her mouth flew open, gasping out ragged breaths. Without realizing it, she was spilling out moans she couldn’t suppress.

Her face, eyes shut tight, drenched in sweat, was lost in ecstasy—a look I had never seen during our time together, where I always insisted on maintaining a proper, restrained intimacy.

I wanted to kick the bedroom door down and rush in—but I couldn’t move.

At that moment, I realized—this was the end.

I still loved my wife.

The thought of living without her was unbearable.

Crouched beneath the window, clutching my head in agony, I berated myself—but there was nothing I could do.

I raised my head again, peering through the curtains. The man’s thrusting suddenly grew frantic. He must have been close—because he pulled his hips back, withdrew from behind her, and moved in front of her. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he yanked her head up and shoved his glistening, saliva-slick cock into her mouth.

It wasn’t huge—maybe average, he’d probably insist—but compared to my slightly smaller size, it looked one and a half to nearly twice as thick.

My wife turned her head away at the grotesque, throbbing shaft before her—but the man’s rough, calloused hand held her fast. After a brief struggle, he said something, and she opened her mouth. She took his cock between her lips.

Then he began pistoning her mouth again, using her face as his personal sheath.

She gagged, tried to pull away—but his two hands clamped down on her head, trapping her. She could do nothing but accept every brutal thrust.

After a few moments, the man gripped her head tightly, plunged his hips forward, and buried himself deep in her throat. His ass twitched violently—he was cumming inside her mouth.

I had never even come in my wife’s mouth before.

Seeing him shoot his load into her lips ignited a rage so hot it burned through my veins.

I didn’t know who he was—but if I’d had a knife, I would’ve killed him on the spot.

She tried to turn her head, but he still held her hair, forcing her to swallow every drop.

Only when he finally finished did he release her.

She stumbled back, covering her mouth with her hand, and bolted into the bathroom inside our bedroom. The man collapsed onto the bed, sprawled out like a king.

And then—my blood froze.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.

That man… wasn’t a stranger.

It was my college classmate—the one I ran a venture business with.

The one who’d left earlier, claiming he had to meet investors about funding issues.

And now he was here—in my house—fucking my wife.

I knew he’d always been a womanizer—back in school, he’d slept with this girl, that girl. I even knew he’d been seeing other women behind his wife’s back lately.

But I never thought he’d lay a hand on my wife.

Now that I thought about it, he’d been going out a lot lately—always saying he had to meet external partners.

Our sales had been up recently—our finances weren’t that tight. It was strange that he kept using money as an excuse to leave.

I’d just assumed it was how startups were—never thought twice about it.

Now I knew the truth.

And come to think of it, my wife had looked a bit worn down lately.

She used to chatter nonstop when she got home—telling me everything that had happened during the day, like a little sparrow.

But recently, she’d just sit there, blankly staring at the TV.

Now she emerged from the bathroom, wiping her mouth with a towel.

The bastard gestured with his hand.

She hesitated—but walked slowly toward the bed.

He grabbed her hand, yanked her onto the mattress, and pulled her into his arms. His hands immediately went to her round, full breasts, groping them roughly.

She was somewhere between a full B and a small C—nothing huge, but firm, perky, perfectly shaped. The kind you loved to squeeze.

Back when we were still us, I’d often sneak up behind her while she sat at her vanity applying makeup or stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes. I’d slide my hand under her clothes, lift her bra, and fondle her.

She’d protest—“Ugh, you pervert!”—but never push me away.

She’d wait until I was done, like she wanted it.

Like she needed it.

Like she loved me.

I quietly stood up, careful not to be seen, slipped through the living room, and opened the front door.

I stepped out.

But then—what? What was I supposed to do now?

Where was I supposed to go?

I just walked. Aimlessly.

I even blamed myself for coming home at all.

If I hadn’t remembered the documents I’d left behind and come back…

If the apartment’s door keypad hadn’t malfunctioned a few days ago, so the alarm didn’t sound…

If I’d just called her and asked her to bring the documents to me…

I absentmindedly boarded a bus. Habit took over.

Soon, I saw the Han River.

I got off, sat down by the water, and stared into the current.

Memories of my wife flooded my mind—flashing like scenes from a movie.

“An angel!!!”

That was my first thought when I saw her.

Her pale face. Her large, doe-like eyes. That timid, watchful glance—like a wounded animal. It stirred something deep inside me. A need to protect. To cherish.

It was after midterms in our third year. A female acquaintance from a club said she’d introduce me to a girl.

I didn’t expect much. Girls rarely introduced someone prettier than themselves—and this girl wasn’t exactly stunning.

Still, she kept insisting—“I trust you, okay? Be nice to her.” She made me promise over and over.

I just shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

Another blind date to get through this weekend.

But the moment I saw her—that girl became the greatest blessing of my life.

I couldn’t believe it.

How could such an angelic girl still be single?

And how could I be the one lucky enough to become her man?

Later, I learned the truth.

When she entered university, she went on a blind date. The guy seemed decent, so they met a few more times.

One night, after drinking, he offered to walk her home.

On the way, near a row-house construction site, he tried to rape her.

Thankfully, a passerby heard her screams and intervened.

She escaped unharmed—but after that, she developed a fear of men.

She stayed single, until my female senior from high school—knowing how much it pained her—decided to help.

She searched for a “good guy” to introduce.

Me.

At first, the girl refused.

But her senior kept pushing—“He’s kind. Just one meeting.”

Reluctantly, she agreed.

I planned every date meticulously—making sure she laughed, felt safe, felt seen. My club friend’s advice about her tastes helped more than I could say.

Slowly, she opened up.

Slowly, she began to see me as a man.

Soon, we were an official couple—recognized by everyone.

That winter, on a darkened campus, I kissed her for the first time.

The softness. The sweetness.

I knew I’d never forget that feeling—ever.

We became lovers.

When I enlisted, she visited me faithfully every single time.

When I was discharged and got a job, I proposed.

She said yes.

And on that night—I took the virginity she’d guarded for 25 years.

I soothed her through the pain, and poured my seed into her for the first time.

A year later, we married.

I quit my job and started a venture with my friend.

My college buddy had suddenly come into money—his father passed away early, leaving him a fortune.

He approached me—offering to fund a business. After much thought, I left my company and co-founded an online game studio with him.

We weren’t wildly successful—but we were stable. Respected.

Work. Home. Life.

Everything was perfect.

The only problem?

After a year of marriage, no baby.

We went to the hospital. Tests showed nothing wrong with either of us.

Yet—no pregnancy.

After long discussions, we agreed: we’d wait a little longer.

If nothing happened, we’d try artificial insemination.