My Wife And Her Male Boss Are On A Business Trip And Share A Room. She Asked Me To Bring Her Undergarments-1

My wife was sharing a hotel room with her male boss on a business trip when she called me late at night to deliver her intimate garments. Upon arriving at the hotel, I was met with an utterly astonishing sight!
The Uneasy Dinner
She was at it again—talking about that man. Tracy slid the steak from her fork into her mouth, her eyes gleaming as she gazed at me. "You should have seen how Jack handled that crisis today—pure brilliance. The conference room fell silent, and with just a few words, he calmed every client." She swallowed the meat and took a swift gulp of red wine. "Honestly, Mike, from the twenty-year-old receptionist to the forty-something department heads, hardly anyone in the company can resist his charm." 

She Said I Was Jealous
I pushed the peas around my plate, the clatter echoing my discomfort—a wet towel seemed to press against my chest. "Oh? Is that so?" My voice came out parched. "Of course!" Either oblivious or indifferent, she continued, "His poise, his finesse, his intellect—all impeccable. And he's single too, practically every woman's fantasy in the office." She giggled, as if sharing a delightful joke. The scrape of her knife on the plate grated my nerves. I set down my utensils. "Tracy," I met her gaze, "hearing you praise another man—your boss, no less—day after day makes me uneasy." She paused, then curled her lips into a teasing smile, reaching across the table to pinch my cheek. "Oh, Mike! Feeling jealous?" Her tone was drawn-out, like soothing a petulant child.


She Dismissed It
"Is it really such a big deal? He's just a workaholic colleague, my boss. I come home every night—you know who shares my bed, don't you?" Her fingers were warm, yet the knot inside me remained. She was too casual, as if my unease were trivial, even laughable. "I know you come home," I replied flatly, "but must you constantly bring him up? I don't care for it." I pushed my plate away; the remaining steak suddenly lost its appeal. Tracy's smile faded as she withdrew her hand and swirled her wineglass.


Jack Was Everywhere
"Fine, fine, I'll stop mentioning him. Look how petty you're being." Her tone was dismissive as she focused on cutting the last bits of meat, avoiding my eyes. "Just work talk—why take it so seriously?" The chandelier above cast a warm golden glow, but the food grew cold, and the air thickened with tension. I stayed silent. She seemed to consider the matter closed, dropping Jack's name but offering no comfort. The rest of the meal passed in oppressive silence, punctuated only by the clink of cutlery. When she rose to clear the dishes, she brushed my shoulder—a silent concession.

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