Chapter 3 — Swapping Lovers – Part 1 (3)

Today, after the holiday ends… I'm swamped with work, but a text comes from Sarah.

She's meeting another man again today. Says she'll leave at 6:30.

Now Sarah has been with four men.

The first is me—the one who took her virginity.

One or two days after she's been with the others, she comes back to me. We have sex.

The second is the senior from her friend's company, the one I mentioned before.

That guy's desperate to have her again, craving just one more taste—but Sarah rarely gives in.

He was the first man she opened herself to purely for sex, the second man in her life after me.

The third is a married deputy manager from the department she recently transferred to.

Last year, early in the personnel reshuffle, Sarah moved to another team. Both of us thought it was for the best. She switched departments, and we kept meeting through messages and secret calls.

Lately, he seems to be the man she's most focused on.

This bastard does exactly what I used to do with her—meets her in emergency stairwells, restrooms, offices. He gropes her, fucks her in the workplace.

I've followed them a few times. I've seen it with my own eyes—them slipping into a bathroom, the stairwell, locked together.

I'll talk more about it later. Lately, she's been sleeping with him often… and he's the one who makes me the most anxious.

She says they're having dinner together tonight—just a few team members. But judging from his past behavior, they'll probably slip away and end up having car sex.

Since he's married, he only ever fuck her at work or in his car.

The fourth is a single guy from a client company—kind, diligent, but lacking that raw masculine charm. He's a good, steady man, and Sarah sees him almost like a real boyfriend.

She always says she feels guilty toward him. He treats her with such devotion.

But she doesn't feel much sexual chemistry with him. When I pushed her to sleep with him, she hesitated the most.

I don't feel anxious, tense, or even excited on the days she sees him. We meet often, but they've only had sex twice.

As time ticks closer, I can't focus on work. The thought of her with that deputy manager makes everything slip through my fingers.

Still, I have to work.

Today's Saturday… Sarah left yesterday for the ski resort.

She said she was going with friends, but I'm not sure if that's true. Back when we used to go out together, she'd always lie and say she was with friends.

And she'd always complain to me: Because of you, I keep lying more and more.

Sarah doesn't lie—but she's also terrible at it.

She can't control her expressions at all. The moment you look at her with even a hint of suspicion, her lies become painfully obvious. So she just doesn't lie.

It's the same this time.

Since last week, she's been randomly bringing up the ski resort…

Saying things like how ski resorts are offering big discounts because business is bad—awkwardly dropping hints. Then she'll suddenly say, Maybe I should go to the ski resort? and immediately switch to another topic.

It's probably either that senior from her friend's company or the married guy. I don't care much about the client employee.

When she sees that friend, she tells me every little detail. But after meeting the senior or the married man, she can't bring herself to talk about it.

According to Sarah, whenever she mentions those two, my expression turns dark, my face twisted with disgust. So she just can't talk about them.

I don't know why. Sexually, I actually get more turned on when she's with those two. But in truth, I feel incredibly tense and disgusted by the thought of her being with them.

Especially lately, I've been overwhelmed by jealousy toward that married guy.

More than anything, he's young. He connects with Sarah culturally in ways I never could. He's probably stronger, too.

He's respected at work, but there's something strangely unsettling about him.

At first, Sarah said he was creepy. But at some point, she started showing interest in him. Probably because he unexpectedly turned out to be competent in the department.

Listening to her talk, she keeps subtly bringing him up. It's obvious she has feelings.

I tested the waters: "Why don't you try getting closer? Not necessarily sex—just go on a date?"

"He's married. How can I do that with a married man?"

"So what? Aren't I married to you in my own way?"

"You don't know how hard it is for me."

"Then don't give him your heart. Just have sex."

She didn't respond. For a moment, she fell silent, her expression shifting like she was actually considering it.

So I pushed: "I heard he partied hard during his study abroad days… sounds like he'd be low-pressure, easy to enjoy."

At that, Sarah's face suddenly flushed. She crossed her legs, folded her arms, and tensed her body.

Watching her, a deep heat surged from inside me. I swallowed hard and said, "Just try it… I think you'd be good at it."

She stayed quiet for a moment, then said, "Enough. Let's talk about something else."

She didn't say no. Normally, she'd clearly reject such jokes. But this time, she just deflected.

My heart started pounding. I knew then—Sarah definitely felt something for that creepy bastard.

It's been nearly a month since I last saw her.

When I stop meeting her for a few days, she gets restless, anxious. Eventually, she gives in to whatever I demand.

That's how I made her sleep with other men. And she enjoyed showing me the things I liked.

Of course, at first, she was excited by the sex with others—lost in the raw, loveless pleasure of it.

But now, she's not seeing me. And she's not seeing them either.

Both of us have lost interest in loveless sex.

I've started noticing other women on the street. Sarah, hurt by me, won't even look at another man.

If someone truly loves another person, they should protect them.

If you want to preserve passion and joy, you must practice restraint and patience.

Now, I miss the days when Sarah and I first met—when we first made love, gazing into each other, giving ourselves completely, finding joy only in each other.

Thinking of the conflict, the confusion, the pain she must have endured sleeping with other men… my chest tightens, tears welling up.

Thinking of the self-loathing and self-harm she must be feeling toward her own life now, I want to run to her, fall to my knees, and beg for forgiveness.

But I can't.

Not only can't I do it—amid this regret and sorrow—there are still moments when I remember her trembling with pleasure as she fucked other men.

I'm truly a filthy man.

In truth, Sarah once enjoyed that dangerous, decadent tension—the raw thrill of it.

I watched with my own eyes as that pure, innocent girl transformed into a sensual woman. But it was only a moment.

Now, everything is over.

Love. Sex.

Even the twisted, tangled lust we shared…

I'll stop writing here.

The story could have continued, but it didn't. The narrative simply ends there.

For completeness, the relationship between Sarah and me began when I was a manager at the company and she was a young employee who had recently started working. She was twenty-three that first year, and I was already established in my career, married, running the department.

I never told the story of our first time. It's already documented elsewhere—the account of taking a virgin.

Sarah approached me as a sex partner from the start, so it wasn't much different.

The only difference was, since I wasn't seducing a woman without love, it didn't take long.

She accepted my proposal for a trip together—fearful, yet brave. There, the first penetration… just that. Insertion only.

A few days later, in a hotel, the second time—penetration and movement.

The third time, in a video booth, we went all the way.

After that, nearly a year passed. We lived like sex-obsessed maniacs. Of course, for Sarah, it was love and sex.

In the office, hallways, stairwells, restrooms, cars, parking lots, elevators…

We'd sneak into random office buildings while walking down the street. We even did it in the restroom of the playground at her apartment complex.

While watching movies, I'd finger her nipples and her pussy. She'd pull out my cock and touch it.

On the subway, if we could avoid eyes, we'd slip hands under clothes.

In crowded cafes, sitting in a corner with our backs turned, she'd suck my cock.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing other partners. Only sex with Sarah excited me. Even when I was with other women, I'd think of her.

And then… I started thinking about love.

But time passed. Uncontrolled passion faded. Eventually, I could only feel excitement if jealousy was involved.

I persuaded her, seduced her, pressured her with threats of breaking up—forcing her to sleep with other men.

In the end, I left her confused, defenseless.

Listening to her tell me about sex with those men,

Later, secretly watching her tangled with them in cafes or under highway overpasses, I kept our twisted love and sex alive.

But then, one day, Sarah—who once feared losing me and did everything I asked—suddenly brought up breaking up first.

I clung to her. Unable to fully let go, she had sex with me a few more times. But her body was cold, lifeless.

I knew then—everything was truly over.

Everything had ended.

Now, when I occasionally run into her at work, at first she'd avoid my eyes. But now… I'm the one who looks away.

Like this… it's ending.