Cat' on the Wrong Side of the Wall

Note: Hi Readers, thank you for your numerous private feedback over mail as well as comments on the story Cat' on the Wall, which can be considered as a standalone story as well as a series. I acknowledge my mistake of spoiling that story with an epilogue. Lesson learnt. Here is the continuation of the same. Please do comment, rate and share your views on this one too. Cheers. Thank you.

---

Our lifestyle changed when my husband John's AI, Sarah, began gaining global recognition. It was racing to outpace some of the leading AI models. Yet John preferred a private life, away from the limelight, ensuring his name remained in incognito mode. So, people hardly recognized him.

We moved to a posh countryside villa in the outskirts of San Francisco. Most of my time would be spent with my two-year-old son, Joshua. He loved running around the lawn chasing ducks, playing with the kids of our villa staff. He filled my days with joy.

In fact, Joshua helped me to overcome my guilt of cheating on my husband. It happened before his birth. I misunderstood his AI companion, Sarah, as his Korean mistress. I made a hasty decision to teach him a lesson and ended up cheating on John.

That was one wild one night stand with my colleague, Mahat, a trustworthy guy from my team at work. He got involved with me on my insistence. Up on realizing my mistake, I buried the bitter moments and started living a new life in a new place with my family.

However, life became monotonous and confined to the villa. After a long maternity hibernation for nearly three years, I thought of resuming my professional IT life. 'Get back your work life, Catherine,' my mind nudged often.

Before moving to this villa, John and I had reserved weekends for each other. Now, it turned into a once-a-month catch-up. But I ensured that 'once a month' of our togetherness worth every moment of it. John didn't object when I decided to return to work.

We employed nannies, a nutritionist, a kindergarten teacher, chefs and staff to care for Joshua and maintain the villa round the clock, 24/7. Also, I allowed the staff to bring their kids to play with Joshua, giving him friends. Amongst all I trusted Tiffany, the nanny, who cared for Joshua like her own grandson.

---

Finally, I returned to the same IT firm where I worked. I was eager to meet Mahat, then my reportee, now my peer. He greeted me with a surprising, grand welcome-back event. He also introduced his new girlfriend, Arya.

"Mahat always talked highly of you," Arya gave me a hug.

I thought, 'of course he would. We have got history, the kind you don't spill over coffee.'

"Here comes the three old Musketeers," I said to Arya spotting Tom, Greg, and Alan. They are our seniors waiting for their retirement, mostly ogling at women at work.

"Happy to see you back," they said in chorus, extending a hand shake and hug.

I knew why they wanted a hug from me, to feel my breasts for a few seconds. I could not avoid it and did it faster.

"It is bigger now, didn't I say?" I heard one of them whispering to the other two while leaving.

"The Musketeers must be buzzing you, Arya?" I asked her.

"How do you know?"

"I was their fantasy. Without me, they would obviously have an eye on you," I said looking at Arya. She must be in her early twenties, voluptuous girl. Her assets were prominent with the kind of dressing. Just above the knee length skirt, and a fitting shirt and a blazer. All eyes would be on her slender long thighs, definitely Mahat's.

Mahat and I used to chit-chat kinky stuff late then, about how my sex life improved with John after our one night stand. He used to advise on how I could dress to keep John interested, and it worked like a charm.

Those days, he had been going through a break up. Mahat credited me for giving him hope to seek a new relationship, he always credited that night with me, which re-ignited his spark.

Back to the present day, as Arya accompanied him everywhere outside the office, Mahat and I hardly got time to resume any such talks. My life got rejuvenated with work. The longer monotonous babysitting got over. I loved letting my fingers dance on the keyboard again, handling a bigger team, and thriving under the pressure of the job. I felt the drive to chase it down.

At home, I dedicated the daily evenings and weekends for Joshua--story time, cuddles, his tiny hand in mine. Now felt more interesting than before. Still, I cherished my private moments with John whenever he carved it out from his busy schedule. More wealth, more busyness--he was no exception. But I stayed out of the rush under his radar, living at my pace as the same old Catherine.

Mahat and Arya decided to tie the knot. Over a brunch, I introduced them to John. They invited us to their grand Indian-style wedding. Arya's father, an Indian settled in the US, runs a chain of Indo-Asian restaurants. John, as usual, cited his busy schedule and excused himself. But I can't miss Mahat's wedding. I assured the couple that I would make it. Arya insisted me to attend the Sangeet, a musical get-together, on Saturday night, with the wedding on Sunday.

---

I arrived at the wedding venue, a luxury farmhouse adorned with colorful lights. I wore a peach gown to the Sangeet, and brought another princess cut dress for the wedding tomorrow. The silver-threaded peach fabric sparkled under the decorative lights. The sleeveless one with invisible thin straps, left my arms bare, allowing the cool air to kiss me.

My modest neckline though did not show any cleavage, but the snug-fit stitching gave a clear idea of the fullness on my chest. The costume hugged my hourglass figure--cinching my waist, accentuating my curves--before flaring into a soft skirt at my knees. The cut from my thighs allowed free movement and comfort. Silver hoops, black heels, and loose, wavy hair complemented my elegance.

Full party mode was on under the open sky. I expected an Indian diaspora, but it was a universal gathering: Americans, Europeans, Asians, Indians, Africans, and even Arabs made the occasion special. Arya's father had rapport with people from all backgrounds, thanks to his restaurant network.

No surprise, he arranged such an extravagant multi-cuisine buffet in the garden. I was drawn by the aroma of various Indian dishes and masalas. The Korean foods were a delight to the eyes along with Chinese, Continental, Japanese, and Vietnamese cuisines as well. The grand American spread was there, too, but it didn't tempt me. Asians and Indians tried it, mostly.

Like me, many non-Indians were amused and surprised by the wedding gala. The Sangeet began. People danced, some like a pro, and some very funny. I felt like arriving at a New Year's bash, with nearly a hundred people rocking the floor on that private property.

Indian women in their traditional sarees, jewels gleaming added authenticity to the event. I loved the way they danced to peppy songs. The hint of their belly and navel naturally exposed by the Saree was alluring.

I saw some American ladies in sarees, too. They wore it even sexier with dangerously low hips and blouses at high mid-riff. It showed their toned body, and I felt a strange wish to try one. I might not get another opportunity if I miss this wedding. I thought of asking someone, but everyone was a stranger to me. Though hospitable, I felt shy asking anyone for a saree.

I navigated the big farmhouse alone to find Mahat or Arya to share my newfound wish for a saree. It was mostly empty, as everyone was busy dancing or dining. I saw an Asian chef, in his early 30s, collecting cutlery from a room and stepping out.

"Arya? Mahat? Where can I find them?" I asked.

"Bride or groom, ma'am?"

"Anyone."

He pointed down a hall to me and rushed to the dining area.

I knocked on the hall's door, unsure who'd answer. It wasn't locked. As it creaked open, loud music filled my ears.

I stepped in, "Mahat... Arya..." calling their names. No response. The hall had two more rooms there. I approached the one with open doors and froze. Arya was on top of Mahat, riding him in her Sangeet costume, a choli -- a three piece costume with a fancy embroidery blouse, a skirt and a shawl. Her skirt was hitched up, exposing her butt.

Mahat's hands were tied to the cot, using her shawl. She was dominating him with each jump. She pulled up her blouse to show her bouncing boobs to him. It was more of a tease for him, all he could do was watch the perky black crowns of her softness heaving before his eyes. He tried to grab them with his mouth, but she pushed him by holding his throat. The scent of their sex mixed with their perfume and filled the room.

'Wild girl!' I thought looking at her aggressive riding, frozen there for a minute.

I walked away decently, but their moans turned on the dormant zones in my body. I felt horny, memories of my night with Mahat resurfaced. The vivid scenes from past played in my head -- Mahat licking my pussy, tit-fucking me, and releasing his slimy essence into my mouth; like everything happened last night. Thought it had been nearly three years since the night. It was a one night stand, that I thought I' had erased. But, they came alive again.

With sheer will to kill those thoughts, I rushed and joined the Sangeet crowd. They pulled me to dance, though I was an unknown face to them. I started mimicking their steps. But my mind was relaying Arya's riding dance and imagining Mahat's pole slipping in and out of her velvet slit; Their sex movements in my memory synced perfect to the Sangeet music. Despite trying hard, my brain looped the forgotten images of my revenge fuck with Mahat.

'Stop it, Catherine. Don't think about that night!' I said to myself.

I badly needed a drink, which I had stopped after Joshua's birth.

'You're not breastfeeding now,' I told myself, heading to the bar, hosted next to the buffet.

The music faded in the background. I approached the bartender to see what they offered. I chose the Mango Chili Martini. Its vodka base mixed with sweet mango and a chili rim that sparked on my tongue. I took a dining table, the drink's heat stirring me up. The same Asian chef approached--he looked like a Kungfu chef straight out of a movie. With his apron tied tight, sleeves rolled up to show toned arms, a scar on his knuckles.

"Have you found... the bride and the groom, ma'am?" He asked politely.

"Nope."

"They must be busy," he said.

He might have said 'busy' in the context of the wedding, but I knew they were doing 'test rides' before the wedding.

"What can I send to your table, ma'am?"

"Something, not-American, that doesn't overpower the drink," I said.

"Chilled cucumber kimchi--crisp, tangy, sesame oil drizzle. Or veg tteokbokki bites, light gochujang spice. For Indian, mini paneer tikka skewer, charred, with mint-yogurt dip. These would do well for..." he looked at my drink and said, "... Mango Chili Martini."

He sent a waiter with a plate of cucumber kimchi, thin slices with a sharp tang, garlic whisper, and sesame finish; veg tteokbokki bites, and a paneer tikka skewer, smoky with a cool mint-yogurt dip. I loved them, they were light, letting the martini's fire stay.

Then he sent a grand Indian dinner with around 20+ dishes. It was extravagant. I felt like a VIP. I could not complete everything but tried almost all of them.

"Hope you liked the food, ma'am. The Indian menu was Mr. Sukhvinder's choice," the Korean chef mentioned Arya's father.

"I loved them. But I need two more persons to finish this," I smiled at him. "By the way thanks for your polite service, Mr..."

"Beom-Seok. You are welcome, ma'am," he said his name.

I rehearsed it a few times to thank him again, meanwhile Arya and Mahat joined me. Beom-Seok left.

"Hi Catherine. How do I look? Is the make up good?" Arya asked with a smudge of kohl under her eye.

I cannot avoid picturing her topless as I saw what she was hiding behind that Choli top. I teased, "You look ravishing, but your make-up says you're back from laborious work."

"Wedding tension... by the way, you look gorgeous."

"Yes, Catherine," Mahat echoed her shamelessly.

Some girls, probably her friends approached us with a giggle. They spotted the traces of her make-up on Mahat's face.

"So, you guys were smooching?", said one. "Can't you wait, Arya?" asked another girl.

But I knew they went far beyond smooching. They took Arya with them to fix her makeup, leaving me and Mahat at the table. The moment she left, I couldn't hold it in.

"Don't lie you were just smooching in that room?" I pushed my knuckles into his chest.

"What?" I saw a pinch of shyness.

"So, she loves to handcuff you?"

"Don't get fooled by her looks, ma'am..." Mahat said. I stared at him for calling me so formally. He continued, "Okay, Catherine. She loves to dominate in bed. Just like you." I felt a pang. "Sorry, I shouldn't have reminded you," he regretted, seeing my face change.

"Yes, we had agreed to forget it. Anyway, I wanted to wear a saree. That's why I was searching for you and ended up seeing Arya riding a handcuffed bull."

"Please don't talk about handcuffs out here," he pleaded. "You want to wear saree, right? Come, my sister can help. Her measurements should match you." He took me inside the house again.

"How do you know her measurements?" I teased, while walking. Thanks to the martini which lightened my mood.

"But, I know your measurements, right?" he teased back.

"You knew..." I said and followed him. He took me to a guest room where his sister and family stayed for the wedding. He opened the wardrobe and asked me to pick a set. I picked a lavender saree, light as a feather, a heavy blouse with ornamental work.

"I love these patterns," I said.

"We call it Aari works."

"Great. Shall I try this? Will your sister agree?"

"Now you don't be too formal, Catherine. She'll be glad. Let me find her to help you wear it properly," Mahat said and left.

I couldn't wait. There was a buzz in me to wear the saree, at once. I called Sarah, the AI John developed, now an advanced version, no longer the Asian girl who had caused a havoc in my life. Every user can customize her looks. I chose a Disney angel's look for her."

Sarah said she could guide me step-by-step if she could observe me through my mobile camera. I latched the twin doors, before placing the camera to cover me. I removed my dress, folded it neatly, and placed it in a bag.

In my panties and bra, I waited for Sarah's instructions.

"Oh, you look sexy, Cat," Sarah said.

"Thanks, but stick on to instructions, and call me Catherine," I cut her off. I reserved 'Cat' still for John.

Sarah apologized and resumed. I started with the petticoat, its fresh perfume was delightful. It was shapewear, accentuating my curvy figure in the mirror.

"You are still a ravishing beauty," I admired myself.

"I know, but can we stick on to the instructions?" Sarah teased.

"You're witty, Sarah," I said, started wearing the blouse.

My hands fit in, but not my bust. I tried harder to hook it.

"You'll break the hooks. Can you try the next size?" Sarah asked.

"There's no next size. Slightly unfit, I can squeeze in," I tried again.

"No way, with your thick padded bra which adds a couple of inches. May be, without it you can squeeze in," Sarah suggested.

I hesitated, checking the blouse's thick material and Aari work. The saree would drape over my chest. Even Arya was not wearing any brassiere.

"Fine," I said, unclasping my bra and sandwiching it between my folded dress.

Seeing my free breasts, Sarah said, "What a beautiful, perfectly balanced pair!"

"Stop it, Sarah," I replied, blushing, and inserted my hand into the blouse's armhole.

"Woh... woh... you look gorgeous," I heard--not from Sarah. Mahat rushed in. I covered my breasts instinctively as the blouse dangled on my arm.

"Damn. How did you open it?"

"You missed the latches, top and bottom," he pointed at the doors.

"God! I missed them," I blamed myself.

"Sorry, I couldn't find my sister. I thought of informing you."

"Can you close the door and inform?" I turned around.

"Okay, let me wait outside. You change and come," Mahat stepped towards the door.

"Wait... Do you know how to do this saree stuff?" I asked, palms still covering my breasts.

"Yes, I do... but..." he hesitated.

"Then please help me. We are not seeing each other for the first time, Mahat."

"I'll help you, Cat," Sarah intervened.

"No thanks, you stay quiet," I told her, while the AI still viewing me through my phone's camera.

Mahat closed the door, and I let my guard off, freeing my boobs. I was showing only my back to him. He walked to my front to pick the saree from the wardrobe and glued his eyes on my toplessness.

"Stop looking, Mahat. It's not something new to you."

"Yes, but no. They're bigger... even better now. I can't stop admiring them, and you know it."

"Fine, let's not get into admiration. Behave like a professional saree draper, help me wear this saree, and get out," I said sternly, struggling to hook the blouse. Except for the bottom hook, I couldn't manage the rest.

"Okay," said Mahat, sat on the bed and watching me wearing a blouse.

"Bullshit, it's not working," I said, my breasts spilling out like ripe fruits.

"Don't give up," Mahat enjoyed viewing my struggle in the pretext of encouraging. I tried to squeeze them in, but they were adamant to fit in.

"Allow me to help," Mahat placed the saree on the bed and approached me.

I wasn't okay with it. "Just be professional, okay?"

He nodded, with the luster on my breasts. "They must be filled with milk, aren't they? That's why they're bigger now."

"I had weaned Joshua. Do you really know how to wear the saree? Stop talking about my breasts," I doubted his intention.

"May I?" Mahat touched one of my breasts with his four finger webbed together. His touch tickled my nipples as he tucked it into the blouse's bust space, slightly pulling the blouse with another hand. I didn't expect his touch, which reignited the old flames. He did the same to the other breast, this time switching his hand for better angle. He succeeded in fastening the second hook. Three more hooks left.

"Just one more squeeze," he murmured. He focused on my nipples and gave a push. My nipples buried inside the bust space. He fastened on the third hook. One of my breasts started leaking milk.

"Ouch, what's that? You said you're not lactating!" he said surprised.

"Is it engorgement?" I was shocked too. Gone speechless on how to react as the breast was leaking spontaneously.

"It might spoil the blouse with stains. You can't wear it while this flows," he said, unhooking the blouse in a jiffy and made me topless.

I wiped it with tissue, but it kept flowing. "This is strange, Mahat," I paused. "Better I switch back to my dress and head home."

As I started removing the blouse, Mahat held my hands.

"Please don't mind, I'm just helping." He placed his mouth over my nipple, sucking the milk.

"Stop it, Mahat. Don't..." I couldn't finish the sentence. I grabbed his head to push him away, but ended up pulling him closer, as I got lost in the sensation of his lips and tongue working in tandem to suck my milk.

He squeezed my breast with both hands and sucked simultaneously, not even pausing to gulp. After a few minutes, he checked.

"The dam is fixed..." he said and corrected at once, "Damn, it is fixed. Not leaking now," he smiled.

I felt relieved and smiled back with no choice.

"We should rule out other possibility as well," he said.

Before I grasped his meaning, he latched onto my other breast. No milk in it, but he drew pleasure from it. I knew his cheeky pretext, but I was lost in the moment, allowing him to do it.

I felt wetness oozing out, not in my breast, but somewhere else. I combed his hair with my fingers and pressed his head tighter. His hands started playing with my other breast and slid down to my belly. While still latching on to my breast, he circled my navel, making me quiver and pulled my petticoat string, letting it slip on the floor.

I was standing topless in the room, just in my panties and an undid blouse still clinging on to my shoulders. He inserted his hand to reach my love triangle, which was drenched already. His fingers started to explored my folds, the gap between his fingers took a labia to knead, while feeling the plushness of my womanhood.

His touch down there catapulted me three years back, into a time travel to his home. I felt the same thrill of getting fucked by someone other than John for the first time in my life. The forbidden night returned again and began engulfing my controls again.

Before inserting his finger into the source of my wetness, he said, "you are still the same, wet and tight," the words he would regret. His words snapped me back to my consciousness.

'Catherine! You are at Mahat's wedding; Arya is waiting for him. You cannot cheat on her, not in the night before her wedding.' I heard my own words of warning in my head.

"Stop it! We can't do this, Mahat!" I forcefully pulled his hand out, shoving him away. His mouth literally pulled my nipples before getting released from his suction. My breasts glistened with his saliva; his fingers smelled of my uniqueness.

"Wash your hands, go to the gala. Forget this. I'm sorry," I fumbled for words. I rushed to the bathroom, cleaning myself, feeling the sin wash off. But I felt better, as I stopped at the right moment.

When I got out of the bathroom, Mahat was not there. I wore my dress back and returned to the Sangeet dancing. Mahat was holding Arya's hips, visibly lost and dancing with her. I knew what bothered him.

"Hey, where've you been?" Arya waved at me, "come, join us."

I joined them, holding Mahat in one hand and Arya in another, dancing slowly. Mahat avoided eye contact with me. Again, the same set of girls took Arya away from us to dance with them. I braced his waist, casually pretended to continue the dance.

"It's okay, Mahat. Nothing wrong with you. We got carried away. Nothing planned. So, don't feel guilty. In fact, I saved you from a lifelong guilt. Marry her and live to the fullest. Indulge in her, you'll forget everything about me," I said looking at his eyes.

He gathered himself up to look at my eyes with a smile. Then, I handed him to Arya and faded out from their sight. I knew I couldn't stay for the wedding reliving my guilt, nor could Mahat feel easy with me there around him. I returned home.

---

I felt happy, hearing that the wedding went on fabulously. Mahat and Arya returned to the office a couple of weeks later. I saw honeymoon glow on their faces. We skipped the work over a coffee-break.

"Happy for you guys," I congratulated them again. Arya showed me the poshly printed marriage album, Mahat sat beside us.

"We missed you at the wedding, Catherine" she said genuinely.

"Look here, I'm there in the Sangeet photos," I said, flipping through.

"You look good. But I should've worn you a saree; you would have looked even more gorgeous. What say, Mahat?" Arya asked.

I saw Mahat's face change. "Yes, you're right," he said, looking at her. "You guys carry on, I have a work." He left, swiping his mobile.

I flipped some more pages and froze at a picture. The Asian man, Beom-Seok was posing with a familiar face.

"Who's this?" I asked.

"He's our senior chef, Beom-Seok, managing Dad's restaurants," Arya answered.

"And this girl?"

"His wife. Every staff brought family for the wedding."

I was stunned beyond words. Because the girl was none other than the AI girl, the Korean whom John was involved with. Or, the one whom John convinced me to believe as an AI generated model. Even after years, I recognized her face.

For a split second, I brushed it off, thinking all Asian girls look alike. But I couldn't forget her face, her body, every feature matching with the images in my memory.

"Why, anything with her?" Arya's question interrupted my thoughts.

"Nope. She's pretty. He was the chef who overseen my dining that night. Good guy, actually," I replied, flipping to the next page.

"Maybe, I'll share the digital album's link with you," Arya said as we were running out of time to get back to the office.

---

At home, I opened the wedding album's link, scrolled to the AI girl's picture, downloaded it, and asked the AI, Sarah to run an image search.

She replied in an animated voice: "Her name is Seo-Yeon, meaning beauty and good fortune. A Korean-based model, she quitted modeling last year, after marrying a renowned Asian chef, Beom-Seok. Currently working as his event planner."

I asked Sarah to dig deeper to find the companies she modeled for, and one caught my attention. It was John's previous employer, before he started his new AI venture. I asked Sarah if anyone had used her picture as the AI's default image.

"Sorry, I cannot reveal confidential details of one user to another user, without special access. And to answer your question. Using a living person's picture as my avatar is a violation of the usage policy. So, I can only create faces based on user preferences," Sarah replied.

"What about your previous versions?"

"All the versions adhered to the same policy," Sarah confirmed, only to refute, "Only admins with unrestricted access can allow the usage of a real person's picture."

So, John had that access. My mind rushed back to the moment, three years ago when I overreacted, thinking John cheated with the same Korean girl. I ended up cheating on him. Later John said she was an AI not a real person. That hasty move had left me living with guilt. I wanted to check facts and stay calm this time.

"John could've used her image as she was the model for the company, maybe for the AI prototype too."

I wanted to trust John and drop it, but he said she was an AI girl. I checked Seo-Yeon's modeling images, even topless ones. It was her, undoubtedly. How could she be alive, picture-perfect? Maybe she could have posed nude as the part of her modelling contract. Even the AI had created my features perfectly. But I had not posed nude!

It was a maze. A part of me still wanted to rule it out and resume my routine, not ruin our life that was nearly perfect.

Then I stopped at a few archived image from John's old company's forum--a recreation event where John had posed with Seo-Yeon, her arm on his, so close in every shot that signaled something personal. No one else stood so close to him or her in other photos.

The clock ticked 6:00 p. m. I decided to discuss it directly with John in an amicable manner. He would be reaching home in two hours. I waited, but he messaged: "Honey, traveling to Seattle tonight. Have an official meeting. Will be back in two days."

"Okay," I replied.

"Take care, you and the kiddo ????," he ended.

I couldn't sleep as the maze grew inside me, an unsolvable puzzle. It tested my resolve to trust him.

'Don't rush, don't conclude, don't judge unless you confirm, Cat!' I advised myself, taking a deep breath. I devised a plan.

I called Arya, saying I loved the Korean dishes and wanted them for Joshua's upcoming birthday. I asked for Beom-Seok's contact, recalling him as the Kungfu Chef from the Sangeet. Arya personally referred to me and asked me to get in touch with him.

To be honest, I was not fond of grand celebrations. I used it as a just-in-time reason for executing my plan. I called Beom-Seok immediately. He didn't answer at the first two attempts. Then he called back, his English in Korean accent remained the same as at the Sangeet.

I reintroduced myself, mentioning the Sangeet event. Beom-Seok recollected and he was happy, apologizing he couldn't talk long, as he was about to board a flight to Seoul. I cut to the chase, wanting him to cook for Joshua's birthday next week. He said that he'd return to the US two days before Joshua's birthday and would do the needful.

I expressed concern about the possibility of proper arrangement in two days, asking him to appoint an assistant or point of contact if they can make the pre-arrangements for him. I knew Seo-Yeon was managing his events. He found the idea good, and shared Seo-Yeon's number. I thanked him, wishing him luck at the festival.

Level 1 target was achieved for me. I used Tiffany's phone to call her, to avoid revealing my identity. Her voice--same as the AI's in the video with John--froze me. I did my best to change my tone, saying I got her number from Beom-Seok for birthday party arrangements, keeping my name out.

"Mr. Beom-Seok said his team will do the pre..." I dragged.

"Sorry, madam. I'm going to Seattle for a fashion show," as she was conveying, the buzzing noise of waves interrupted her voice.

"Sorry, I can't get you," I asked her to repeat.

"I am going to Seattle. You can contact his first assistant," she said louder than the noise, and shared a number.

"He told that you would help me out," I also raised my volume.

"No... No... I... I haven't told him about my plans... yet. You contact his assistant. It's windy here," she said in a jiffy and disconnected the call.

It was clear that she was in a beach. Her confidence wavered when she was mentioning not telling her travel plans to Beom-Seok. Something felt fishy, my husband and Seo-Yeon, both heading to Seattle.

'How can two random people go to the same place, at the same time?' I thought, not jumping to conclusions yet. I strode restlessly, erasing the checklist, and acted on instinct.

AirTag! I recalled my AirTag in John's travel kit, I left it with him during our recent Hawaii trip. I checked the last location. Muir Woods, near our sea-view cottage.

'What's he doing there?' It was the first question that arose in my mind.

I called John casually. "So, have you started, John?"

"Yes, Cat, waiting to board," he replied.

The same waves and windy noise disturbed his voice.

"Nothing, I thought if you have time after work, Josh and I could join you in Seattle. He'd love the change," I thrown a stone.

"Aw, that'd be great, Cat. I'll let you know when to start. I'll call you after reaching Seattle. Gotta board the flight," he said.

'Liar. Sea-surfing to Seattle? No airport sounds, no announcements.'

I asked Tiffany to watch Joshua and left my house. Muir woods was at an hour's distance from our home. I drove to Muir, parked far, and sneaked to our sea-viewing cottage. John's car was not there. In fact, there was no sign of anyone out there in that locality.

I knew the security cams' positions of our cottage-- only two at the front. I had spare keys. The AirTag showed John's bag inside. But his car wasn't there in the lot. I entered via the back door. The bedroom's air carried an unfamiliar feminine perfume and a lady's bag. Undoubtedly hers, but I did not touch it.

Being an IoT and networking expert, placing a few micro-cams in the bedroom was not a big deal for me. Equipped with a posh temperature-controlled waterbed, a mini bar and a roof-hung infotainment QLED -- it was a luxury stay option we crafted for our private moments. I turned the roof-hung display as well as a camera by bugging it. I connected everything to a private server, enabling live viewing from my mobile. I erased my traces and left the solitude property.

Leaving, I saw empty houses at a distance on the way to my car. A couple in swimsuits walked from Muir Beach, which was obviously visible at a distance from there.

"Is the beach nearer?" I asked a dumbass question.

"Can't you see the bonfire over there?" they giggled, high. "You are late, it's over, unless you bribe the guard."

Our cottage was barely 500 meters from Muir Beach, walkable for me. I rushed to the beach silently, my hoodie and mask on. Most people were leaving, and I was the only one walking towards it. Some bonfires flickered without people. I saw John's car alone in the parking area, and he was not in there.

'He's here.' I confirmed.

With only moon light as my guide, I tiptoed towards a giggle, thinking it was John. Not him. A security guard was looking at the beach and stroking his member. I hid behind a rock, switching my phone camera to night vision. Zooming to the direction of his view, I saw John, nude, chasing a nude girl--Seo-Yeon. He caught her, dragging her by feet into the waves. They cuddled, rolled over with the waves like teenagers. Then he carried her, dripping with water, to the car. They cannot see me from that angle, showing their back.

Now the watch man turned around to continue his voyeur, saw me with a mobile.

"Hey! What the heck are you..." before he uttered another word to draw their attention, I jumped and closed his mouth.

"Shut the fuck up! I will pay you more than he did. He shouldn't know that I'm here," I whispered in a stern tone.

"I've been jerking off for a while peeping at them. They are lost in their world. So, who are you? A Paparazzo?" he asked softly, yet his voice coarse.

"None of your business," I loosened my grip, wiping his saliva off my palm on his shirt.

"Of course it is. My rates are more for press people. You leak and make more money. I want a bigger cut," this time his spoke casually.

Fearing that he might expose my presence, I gestured him to keep his volume low and said, "I am his wife. Enough?"

"Oh... poor lady," he scanned my body in the moon light. "You are nothing less to that petite bitch. Lucky guy," he hissed.

We both hid behind the rock as John's car was lit. Seo-Yeon appeared out through the sun roof, exposing her torso with firm boobs, glittering with water droplets. We could see John's face buried between her thighs.

"She is ruling your man! Hottie!," said the guard and his hands searched for something.

I followed his movement only to find a limp blubber in his grab.

"You shameless! Put it in!" I yelled.

"Not as your hubby."

He heeded no respect to my words and tried to stroke his tool. I was stuck in the place with this old guy in his fifties, while my husband tongue-searching for some time capsule, thrown into the sea, and lost inside her hallows.

"Hey... Hey..." the guard sought my attention.

"What?"

"Help me. It's not cooperating with you around," he pointed at his thing.

"Go to hell!" I got up from my cover.

He pulled me down and said, "even if he misses, I will tell him that you were here. A voluptuous white lady, with high curves, filmed you. My descriptions will reveal its his wife," he blackmailed.

I took the cover again and warned him, "Look, you have no idea whom you are talking to!"

"Just do it with your hands. I am not demanding more. Forget the money. It's a fair deal."

He just grabbed my hand and placed it on his cock, without waiting for my decision. At the same time, I saw John now sneaking out of the sun roof and she returning the favour. Something had driven me crazy!

"Bastard!" I scolded John, loudly. This time the guard closed my mouth to keep my voice low. I pushed his hand aside and took his cock in my mouth.

"Oh!" He screamed mildly.

I released my mouth for a moment, "It is for that scoundrel, not you scumbag. Just tell who is the deal, me or that bitch!" I yelled and took it in again.

It was like a Best Blowjob Contest! I wanted to know an unbiased feedback on my skills.

'You are behaving like a dumbass now. Stop this nonsense! The stupidest thing you could ever do! -- My inner self blasted at me.

I was in no sanity to listen to her. Seo-yeon was making him moan out there in a public beach under the moonlight.

"Moan!" I said to the guard. He looked puzzled. "You can moan as loud as you want, scum!" I yelled, switching to his hairy balls. I should not undermine, his tool was bigger than John's and Mahat's. I stroked it a few times and ran my lips along its length.

This time he moaned. John stopped his moaning and turned towards us.

"He is looking at me," the guard tried to dunk from his standing position.

"He cannot see me though, you just fucking stand," I ordered, and he continued moaning.

"Got some whore for you old man? Enjoy! Yeah!" John shouted at the guard.

"You tell him, she is the real whore!", I gripped my teeth on his tool.

"You got a better whore out there! Enjoy!" the guard yelled at John.

Now both these shameless men were moaning out there in the open like wolves having sex. I had no idea how John was feeling with Seo-Yeon's mouth. But I was sure about the old guard, travelling far beyond seven seas of pleasure. I was looking at John all the while doing this dirty job and he got back into the car. She was wiping her mouth. He came first.

I released the guard's tool and spit out every ounce of disgusting sensation. John started his car, engine roared. I got out from my cover.

"I am yet to cum," the old man complained, loosely holding my hand.

"Help yourself, graybeard!" I said and shoved some dollar bills into his pocket.

"Hey... Hey... you were awesome," I heard him praising me, while I chased behind John's car.

I took a shortcut to my car, while John and Seo-Yeon already inside the cottage.

I opened the hidden feed. They were in the bathroom, out of sight. The waterbed glowed, its remote adjusting the colours, temperature and wave motions. Seo-Yeon walked out in a bathrobe; John followed her nude and ripped her robe off. He pushed her onto the bed, sucking her toes, and teasing her soles. He was literally worshipping her. They shifted to a sideways 69, he buried his mouth in her hairy triangle. She went right to his balls, sucking them while giving him a hand job.

Why her, John? I doubted my worthiness to him.

Every second of their joy daggered my heart. After the mistake with Mahat, I had spent nights guilty for cheating on John; every ounce of guilt was transforming into a rage. I could walk in, catch them red-handed and bash them, but who would lose? He might divorce me, leaving Joshua fatherless. I'd get an alimony, but at what cost? My peace, and my nice life would be at stake for this bitch. John was a great father and a husband, except this affair.

I could not see him fucking her on the waterbed, a sensation he had not given me--sex while floating on water. I saw his cock glistening with her ooze, going in and out like a piston.

'She must be tight down there. May be tighter than you, Catherine.' I heard an unwanted comparison inside.

Revenge wasn't enough; If that is the case, I had taken revenge. But, John hadn't felt the pain of betrayal. Would he? He was fucking another man's wife right in front of my eyes, and she was enjoying it remorselessly, now riding him in a cowgirl-style.

Despite my anger, I felt wet with wild thoughts, 'Wanna join them, Catherine? You are not open for a threesome. John might want you in an FFM. But not with that bitch. Will he be open to an MMF?' I discarded all the random thoughts as senseless ones. I would never do it!

I hated Seo-Yeon more than I loved John. Neither I could let the hatred for her kill my sanity, nor allow my love for John to accept his affair. While I was lost in thoughts, I saw John hissing something to her, and then he took his cum in her mouth till brimming and swallowed.

Then they slept like a happy couple comfortably on the waterbed. I would be pointless to sit there inside the car and peeping at them. I didn't have that edge to confront them. I felt it less impactful. So, I drove home. Joshua and Tiffany were already deep asleep.

I couldn't sleep, seeing them cuddling and dozing off cozily. I called John, watching the live feed. His phone rang; he disconnected, turning it off. Seo-Yeon asked, "Who was it?" He whispered; she laughed. They exchanged a lazy kiss, starting another fuck session. He fucked her in spooning style, letting the wavy waterbed to do most of the movement. It was like some auto-fuck-mode! I wondered how her boobs stayed in shape even after the years of rigorous handling by John. He came on her breasts, and she was massaging it with his cum, like some exotic massage lotion to revitalize her firmness.

'You woke them like an alarm to resume the next session! Damn you, Catherine!' I threw my phone. I cried like a child abandoned, and had no idea, somehow sleep took over my helpless grieving.

----

Next day at noon, I woke up only to grab my phone and to check the CCTV. The bedroom was empty. Outside cameras showed no one at the cottage. John's and Seo-Yeon's numbers were switched off. They went incognito!

I ate like a starved bear and drank beer like a dipsomaniac.

'Your hasty calls made you do nasty things, Catherine. You had fucked your colleague, Mahat. Okay, acceptable. But giving a blowjob to a stranger? On a public place? Definitely not you!'

My mind bombarded with critique on my senseless hasty moves.

'I am not going to repeat any such stupidity,' I reassured myself.

I wanted more than revenge. Separate them!

'Why not send the footage to Beom-Seok, Catherine?' I asked myself and answered, 'What if the kung-fu chef kills them?'

I didn't know how Koreans typically handle a cheating spouse. I couldn't risk being an accomplice, if things go awry. Getting rid of Seo-Yeon from John's life seemed to be the right solution, but it should happen naturally, without my involvement exposed.

'If John gets to know, he might choose Seo-Yeon over you. So, confront her, Catherine, not John! Threaten to expose her to Beom-Seok. Make her leave John. Do it anonymously.' I thought that would work.

Still, I needed help--a male voice would sound more threatening to her. Mahat! I called him. He answered drowsily, moaning in the afternoon.

"Still sleeping?"

"Oh... no..." His moan said otherwise.

'You caught him in mid-fuck with Arya,' I realized.

"Can I call later?" I asked him.

"It's alright," he stressed. "Tell me, Catherine."

"Meet in person? I need your help."

"Urgent? Or tomorrow?"

"Asap, but you come alone," I insisted.

I heard whispers--Arya murmuring something. "Evening, our coffee shop?" he replied.

"Fine," I said before he hung up.

'Married life starts with sex and love, then love fades without sex' I thought.

---

Evening, I was waiting at our usual table. Mahat arrived, and I cried despite resisting. He consoled me asking, "What's the issue?"

"My husband... He is cheating again," I said.

"So, revenge, again?" he asked.

I stayed silent.

"Do we have to do like the last time or anything different?" He smiled.

I stood to leave, wiping my tears.

"Sorry, Catherine. Just tried to ease the situation. I know you would not want me to cheat on Arya. What's on your mind?"

"I want the girl out of John's life."

"Is she still there?" Mahat asked, "How can I help?"

I showed him the waterbed footage of John and Seo-Yeon.

"She has not aged a bit. Hot!" he said like any other men would do.

"Can you send the footage to her, threaten to reveal it to her husband, if she doesn't leave John."

"Such an amateur plan. She would straightaway guess John's wife, you are behind it," he made his point.

"You're right. Anything else?"

"Divorce him, if you can't stand this."

"I can't. John and I still love each other."

"Then accept her, pretend you don't know his affair. Life stays peaceful."

"Peaceful when I was unaware. Not now," I shook my head.

"You can't be a cat on the wall, Catherine. Jump to the Hatred's side--the bad side of the wall--fuck someone, make John swallow his own pill and divorce him. Or..."

"Or else?"

"Jump to the Love's side--the good side of the wall--accept John as he is and live with him. Like affairs are common nowadays."

"Don't justify cheating as common trait. Some stay honest," I argued.

"I'm not debating, Catherine. You were honest, but the situation pulled you into cheating," he paused, "sorry, not to offend you. I mean, that doesn't count you outrightly as dishonest person. You gave yourself a second chance. Isn't it?"

His advice made sense. "So..." I asked.

"So, either jump to the bad side--revenge fuck him, divorce him; or jump to the good side, forgive and accept him."

"That's your suggestion?"

"No, the solution. You can't achieve anything by standing on the wall. Take a side."

"Okay, I'll think about it" I said, leaving. The hot coffee turned cold, and I left it there like my decision.

---

John returned the day Beom-Seok did, two days to Joshua's birthday. He came up with lame excuses for not calling from 'Seattle' that he had never been to. Though I knew everything, I acted normally. My typical disappointed face and lectures on valuing followed. He repeated his typical response of not repeating the same in the future. He was still smelling Seo-Yeon. I avoided getting closer to him claiming my periods. Even an unavoidable kiss from John stunk like her.

I arranged the Korean special dinner for Joshua's birthday party. Thanks to Beom-Seok. I invited close ones--my parents, John's, Mahat, Arya, and a few friends. I insisted that the Korean chef to bring his wife, Seo-Yeon to the event. Based on her arrival, I had a plan ready to confront her and make a deal with her to leave John. I had an alternate plan if she did not make it.

The event was a successful one. John beamed in our parents' presence. I would not ruin his smile and their trust. I checked Beom-Seok about his wife, when John was beside me, insisting on her name 'Seo-Yeon.'

"She'll join soon," he said.

John disappeared instantly. Tiffany eavesdropped--he told someone not to come and asked her to come to the beach house.

'I knew it.'

John played the good father, and the perfect husband; but I couldn't pretend like him. Beom-Seok smiled innocently, happy with cuisine accolades. I saw myself in him. John left post-party, citing work.

'I know where you're going, John.'

One by one our guests left. I sent Jousha with my parents to spend a day or two. I changed my costume to a routine night robe. Beom-Seok was last to bid adieu.

"Mr. Beom-Seok, we need to talk," I said.

"Feedback, ma'am?"

"Why didn't your wife turn up?"

"She's resuming modeling, going out for a photoshoot tonight. She could not make it."

"You're naive beyond cooking, Mr. Beom-Seok," I said.

He murmured in Korean, apologizing for his confusion.

"Come in, Wanna show you something," I led him to the living room. Tiffany approached us.

"Anything for you two?"

"Scotch, glasses, and ice cubes, Tiffany."

She brought them and placed them on the teapoy.

"Sorry, madam, I don't drink at my events," Beom-Seok refused.

"The event is over, Mr. Beom-Seok. You'll need it," I said, opening the bottle.

"We'll take over, Tiffany," I asked her to leave. But I knew she would have an eye on us.

"You're staying here tonight, Mr. Beom-Seok. You must see something, then decide."

"Show it, please. I don't like suspense," he said, "suspanssirle johahaji anhda" repeating the same in Korean impatiently.

"This may test your limits. Promise me that you do not take any rash decisions. I've been through it. Promise me, you will listen to me," I led him to my bedroom, connected my phone to the TV, and played our beach cottage bedroom's live footage. It was empty.

"What's in this room?"

"Wait," I said, checking the clock. "Five minutes, they'll be there."

I sat on the bed. My black night robe revealed my thigh. Beom-Seok sat on the sofa next to the bed, with his eyes on the screen.

"Drink, you'll need it to digest this," I insisted. He took the glass in his hand, but didn't drink.

John and Seo-Yeon entered the bedroom, discussing something, her face not facing the camera.

"Is that... my bu-in (wife)? I can't hear them," Beom-Seok complained.

"No one should but us," I said, closing the soundproof door of my bedroom.

Beom-Seok dropped his glass, seeing Seo-Yeon with John, furious, blabbering something in Korean. I heard the word, 'baesinja.'

"I know how it hurts. Drink. The shock's loading," I refilled the scotch and pressed to him. This time he sipped.

We could listen to their conversation.

"I never expected your husband there at my home. Shocked to know you would be joining us!" John said to Seo-Yeon.

"Thank God you called me and stopped. I had no idea that's your son's birthday party," she replied.

They murmured something to each other, which we could not decipher till they resumed to normal conversation.

"Beam... Boom-Sack... whatever..." John pronounced his name wrongly, and said, "I must admit that bulky guy is a great chef, I loved his cooking," he praised.

"You love his wife too," Seo-Yeon commented.

"But he doesn't know the tastiest Korean dish yet," John hugged her and placed his hand on her crotch, lifting her mini skirt.

"No, John. He's the best Korean cook I know," Seo-Yeon back her husband, while kissing my husband.

"Still not best at relishing this exquisite Korean sushi, is he?" John inserted his hand inside her panties.

They whispered something. I raised the volume. But I could not hear anything. She pushed him on to the waterbed naughtily.

"He's okayish, definitely not up to the level of my Johnny boy," she strip-teased.

"Why did you marry him?" John asked, removing his dress.

"He is my US ticket. Also, I miss Korea, at least don't want to miss Korean food," she giggled, removing her last piece, a tank top. Her slim body with prominent boobs and hairy pussy replicated a queen from Asian arts.

"I missed this beauty for over 48 hours," John pushed her to the water bed, starting his heroics.

"Turn it off, madam," Beom-Seok searched for the remote.

"You can't change facts by looking away, Mr. Beom-Seok," I said, pouring more scotch.

On screen, Seo-Yeon started sucking John's cock, while he did the same mouth job to the crowns of her chest.

Beom-Seok struggled to meet my eyes. He might be in his early 30s only, watching his wife doing such things with some other man would be awkward.

"She never did that to me!" Beom-Seok's eyes mirrored mine when I saw John licking her triangle for the first time, years back.

"Straight to the point, Mr. Beom-Seok. I knew this and saw similar things three years ago."

"Three years?"

"Yes, it is a continuing affair for three fucking years. I tried something unimaginable to teach him a lesson but backed off. Because, I bought his lies. He manipulated me that Seo-Yeon was an AI girl."

"AI girl?"

"Someone who is imaginary, created by a computer!" I explained him and continued, "I thought he was innocent. Only a few days ago, I learned that your wife is his mistress, as well as the real woman."

Beom-Seok was watching his very own wife being licked by my husband and moaning loudly. He joined the victim's club, the scotch made it easy for us to watch their act.

"Am I bad?" he asked me and rephrased his words. "Do I look like an ugly husband?"

He was asking the same question of self doubt, that I asked Mahat years ago, when I had found John cheating on me.

"No. Mr. Beom-Seok. You resemble Ma Dong-Seok," I replied with a faint smile.

He blushed, "Ma Dong-Seok? The famous Korean actor?"

"Yes. I doubted my own self like you do now. Still, I don't have an answer for those questions. Why my husband seeks something outside? Am I not worth it? Or not satisfactory?"

There was moment of silence between us. The room was filled with their moans from the TV. John and Seo-Yeon were moving their hips in tandem passionately.

"Are you good in bed like that?" We asked the same question to each other simultaneously and laughed out loud.

"Only they should tell!" He said and poured another shot and asked, "what should I do now?"

"You know... what I am gonna do? I can't be a Cat' on the wall and watch them fucking forever. I must decide and take a side," I continued after sipping the scotch, "one side -- I can teach a lesson and divorce him, another side -- I can accept him and live with him."

"So which side are you going to take?"

"I can't accept everything, so like any badass wife, I am gonna shove a lesson right into his brain. Hence, I'm choosing the bad side of the wall. But not divorcing him."

I saw a confusion in Beom-Seok's face. "So, you are taking a revenge on him?"

"I had already. I fucked someone for revenge and hid it from him. Now I need to prove that I am better than that bitch!" I realized my words could have hurt him, "Sorry, Mr. Beom-Seok. I want to fuck his brains with stress, without divorcing him, for cheating me. I want him to realize his mistake. Leave your wife and come back to me."

"But I'm divorcing that whore. I'll send her back to North Korea," he roared.

"North?"

"Our family helped her escape. She owes us for her freedom."

"She's free now, living as she wants," I said, nodding to the screen. Seo-Yeon was riding John like a free bird.

"What do you want me to do, madam?" Beom-Seok asked.

"If you divorce her now, in anger, I recommend against it. Confront her. Give her a chance."

"No way another fucking chance. You tell me what do you want?"

"I want her to leave my husband. I want my John back. Can you help me to do this in a peaceful way?"

"But he's cheating," he said, pointing to John fucking her in reverse cow girl, spanking her bums.

"I know. But he also loves me and my son. He is with her for sex. But he is with me for a family. I can take care of everything, if she leaves him. Can you help?"

"Sure, madam." He nodded the typical Korean way.

"Are you good in bed like that?" I repeated the question we asked each other a few moments ago.

"I said only she can tell the answer for it," Beom-Seok replied.

"Or maybe I can tell you the answer," I hinted, but he didn't get my point.

"How can you?"

"If I give you chance to tell me how good I am in bed... Can't you tell, Mr. Beom-Seok?"

"You mean..."

"I mean... Fuck me!" He did not expect that I would tell him that. I continued, "Prove it to your wife that you're better than John. Let me prove I am better than her. Our testimonies for each other will a lesson for them. If you divorce her without proving your worth, she will move one and fuck someone like John and say you were a loser in bed. Make her regret for missing you. You should walk away proudly, Mr. Beom-Seok!"

On the screen, John grabbed her pony tail and fucking her like an animal from behind. He released his cum inside her pussy. She took every drop of it inside her. I was taken aback at how audacious she was.

Beom-Seok was speechless looking at her wife's pussy being filled by another man. He said, "I don't know how this works, ma'am."

"What?"

"Sex... with you..." he hesitantly asked.

"Do what I say, go with the flow. Trust me. I know their pain points. Let's hurt them with the pleasure we enjoy. Like they do now." I was sure Beom-Seok would divorce her, but I would use his revenge, in my favour.

"If it helps you, I'm in," he said. "But... let's pretend having sex, I cannot enter you," he still drawn a boundary.

"We will see to it. I need your consent. Do I?"

He nodded. I did a bottoms up and kept the glass on the table. I held Beom-Seok's hand and hugged him. I undid my robe, letting it open giving him access to explore. He was hesitant. I removed my robe, revealing my curves in laced bra and panties.

"Neomu areumdauseyo!" Beom-Seok said in Korean and translated, "You are so beautiful, madam."

I hugged him. He was at my height, heavily built, not fat. I realized this after undressing his shirt.

"You look like Ma Dong-Seok," I said, kissing him on his cheeks.

His hands shed shyness, started roaming my back, tracing the bra straps on shoulders. Then moved to my hips, feeling my curves and finally he grabbed my ass over panties.

"Ouch, go easy! Mr. Beom-Seok"

"Hanguksigeuro sexholege," he said.

I didn't need translation, he was turned on now. My hands unzipped his pants and inserted inside to feel his member.

"Not small, I guess," I looked at his eyes.

"Depends on what's small or big for you," he replied.

I felt it erect, one hand was not enough for completing its girth. "Definitely big!" I pulled down his pants along with his innerwear.

Beom-Seok was a fair guy, so does his cock Pink and thick as big as a cold-drink-can. His head down there was even with the shaft, not a mushroom head. Half of its length still remained uncovered as I held the it with my fist.

"This is big, Mr. Beom-Seok. I'm not sure I can take this inside me." I said, kneeling to take a closer look. I began licking the shaft, base to the tip.

"Your petite wife can't take this in her mouth, but I can," I said and took his head in first and then tried my best.

Beom-Seok glanced at the TV--Seo-Yeon sucking John's cock again.

"Focus on me. We must exceed them," I said, amping my blowjob, grabbing his balls.

He moaned in Korean, sounded sexy to me. He pushed me to the bed. He removed my panties, pulled me to the edge. I thought he was going to do a lick job. But he started playing Tabla on my pussy with fingers.

"High-fiving my pussy, Mr. Beom-Seok?"

"Korean style," he said, increasing the tapping frequency gently, each finger like a vibrator. A new sensation gushed inside my velvet walls, though he worked on the outside. He played with a precision, not some random tapping. He followed a pattern and a tune. I erupted to his percussion skills, wetting his hand. He rubbed the juice on to his cock and spread my pussy further. I thought he was gonna launch his rocket inside.

He kissed my pussy, pulled my vertical lips with his horizontal ones. His tongue found my clit and its tip tapped its hardness. He then kneaded my labia between his lips and his tongue spoke something in Korean to my entrance down there.

Cat, is he trying an unfamiliar 'open sesame' spell? I heard a voice inside. But I loved every move of the Asian treasure hunt, worth every second of it.

"Ahh... Ahh... Ouch... Oh... Mr. Beom-Seok... Aww.. Aannn..." I talked nothing but his name and gibbering moans.

I came again, climbing hills with his shifting moves--tapping, lapping, licking, picking, nibbling, sucking... I ran out of words as he orchestrated an opera down there with his fingers, lips and tongue.

He paused!

"Oh dear... dear oh dear.... What's next, Mr. Beom-Seok?" I begged, gasping for air.

He inserted his thick finger into my pussy, bending it in an angle it to reach my G-spot, eliciting a moan, again.

"Yes, you got it," I acknowledged the spot.

He looped the movement for a few minutes, restarting my hill climbing again. I reached the small peaks of pleasure at regular intervals. But he left the mountain for something else. Then he added his second finger, to join his pleasure machine, he was making waves in crests and troughs inside my walls.

"Fucking insane! Mr. Beom-Seok," I tried to push his arm but failed. Three fingers now, he was screening a 3D blockbuster inside my vagina. He moved his fingers in three dimensions, while his thumb satisfying my clit. I gushed my third orgasm, his palm dripping with my juice. I had never experience this multiple orgasms before.

He applied my ooze to his cock as a lube. He flipped me on my stomach, at the edge of the bed. He positioned his tip right after making an inverted V with my legs, hanging now freely. He slowly entered my jelly cave. I felt his big cock sliding in inch by inch widening the space.

'His open sesame spell worked like charm, Catherine' I was surprised within.

"Aahhh," I screamed--with no idea it was pleasure or pain.

"You said, you will not enter me?" I asked.

"Sorry, I can't resist," he admitted.

It was unbelievable that I could accommodate such a girth. He was fully inside me and stopped. I gasped as if it was done, and he gasped as if he didn't hurt me. He started his slow movements, turned into a pleasurable thrusts later as my cave adapted to engulf his biggie. He smoothened my buttocks, while fucking me like a five-star guest. Nothing more could fit in my hole, not even a strand of hair. Perfectly lubed and perfectly filled.

He angled thrusts relentlessly varying the sensations inside me, increasing the pace. I moaned freely.

"Ah.... Ah... Mr. Beom-Seok. Stop! I need a break!" I rolled out, his cock plunging out with a pop, like a piston. I sipped scotch. He was shy-faced, but his actions bold.

I saw the TV, which we forgot existed for a while. John and Seo-Yeon were sleeping, cum dripping from her pussy.

'We're not done yet. Mr. Beom-Seok.'

I hopped on him in 69, tasting his cock, resting my folds on his face. However, he licked my other hole.

'Holy shit!' I paused; he pulled me back.

"Not there," I stopped him, putting fingers in his mouth. He sucked my fingers gently.

His tongue explored the inner walls of my velvet channel, making it wet to accommodate him easily.

I gently placed my entrance over his tool and sat on him, allowing my weight to do the rest. I housed him inside me again. Our bodies are tangled, ready to ride him. My hips were dancing Gangnam Style on him.

I realized he missed my breasts all the time only when he pulled my bra straps, now. He cupped my breasts with both hands over the fabric. He pulled my bra and felt my breasts with his bare hands, while I'm riding him. His mouth cannot resist the fruits for a long time. He licked around my boobs thoroughly and ended up tasting my nipples like a candy. I lactated again from both ones.

"Is it...?"

"Do you have lactose intolerance?" I asked and offered him the twins. He sucked every drop of it.

We fucked like rabbits, rolling and changing dominance. Yet, his piston never left my slot. We stopped only when his hot Korean congee filled me, spilling out, cooking my flesh. I released his fat boy, now minimized to a pinky.

"Really? He grows that big?" I tapped at it in disbelief.

"Now tell me madam. Am I good or not?" he asked straight into my eyes.

I gave deep kiss and said, "That's my answer. What about me, Mr. Beom-Seok?"

"I need to kiss you all night long then," he said, resting his palm on my breast, "you are a lovely woman madam. Good woman often ends up with bad man!"

"Vice-versa!" I said closing my eyes, while my nipple still caged between his fingers.

We slept like a real couple after a good sex. I didn't have a remorse, not a pinch of guilt this time. I enjoyed it in fact and slept peacefully after a long time.

---

I woke up close to noon, when I got up Beom-Seok was gone. I was lying nude on the bed. The bedsheet was stained with sex marks. He did not even leave a single harsh mark on my body. He handled me like a gentleman. I saw a Korean message on my phone: "Sorry and Thanks. Will call you, later, madam."

The door was just closed, not locked. Morning staff would have checked the room for a routine clean up. Except for my bed, the room was tidy. Somebody took our scotch glasses as well. Tiffany could have done that or might be other staff or more. But now they knew that I had allowed another person into my bedroom and had sex with him. My pussy clearly showed signs of a good fuck and cum stained ivory sheets would confirm it. Also, I was sleeping with my legs spread, like a free woman.

'The Gossip will spread. John will know that I fucked his mistress's husband. Good. Truth might hurt him, but this truth will have many added layers as a grapevine. It will hurt his ego.' That was what I wanted. He cannot prove and I won't confess.

---

On the same evening, Beom-Seok called. "I'm divorcing her, madam. Sending her out of the US. I am no more a fucking sponsor for her," he said.

"As you wish, Mr. Beom-Seok," I paused and continued, "Don't feel guilty about what happened between us. They deserve it," I said.

"No, madam. I feel great after the sex with you," he surprised me.

"Happy that I made you happy, Mr. Beom-Seok."

"Thank you for everything. Please don't hesitate if you need any help, madam," he said, hinting at his interest.

I did not give any reply. John would decide how should I respond.

---

After a few weeks, Seo-Yeon was deported, her citizenship canceled for fraudulently using marriage. Beom-Seok proved she obtained it by cheating him. He did not confront her infidelity. If John had not shared the gossip of night between her husband and me, she would have gone back to Korea with guilt and confusion.

I never minded whether she knew the details or not. The bitch was gone out of my life. I expected John to be sad, but he was cool as a cucumber. Because his ego would forced him to keep his image intact, like nothing happened. If he had confronted me, I would reason him, which would be more bitter for him. Also, he stopped disappearing at night.

However, the romance between us did not resume. It would take time to heal.

But, I was really astonished at his resilience. How he could suppress his reaction, knowing that I fucked another man in our bed? He must know it. The question lingered in my heart, only the future could unveil the answer!

---

(Not the End!)