My Wife And Her Male Boss Are On A Business Trip And Share A Room. She Asked Me To Bring Her Undergarments-4
December 16, 2025
182 Comments
Her Farewell
Yet beneath that normalcy, an invisible tension tightened. Friday afternoon, she wheeled her suitcase out. At the entryway, she straightened and met my eyes. "I'm off. Take care—skip the takeout." "Mm," I croaked. She embraced me swiftly, her lips brushing my cheek. "Back soon. Await my call." Her familiar floral scent wafted by, but the hug was fleeting. The door clicked shut, the lock echoing through the empty house.
The Empty Home
I stood motionless long after, the lingering perfume and her words inexplicably unsettling. Anxiety coiled like vines. Silence reigned. Seeking distraction, I flipped through TV channels—loud ads and vapid shows failed to fill the void. The refrigerator's hum amplified. Sipping water by the kitchen window, I watched dusk deepen as unease fermented.
The Endless Friday
Time dragged. I ate mechanically, tasting nothing. While washing dishes, the faucet's rush conjured images of Tracy and Jack on the plane: seated together? Chatting? Would her eyes shine for him? Irritation simmered. Drying my hands, I slumped on the sofa, scrolling aimlessly through my phone, aching for that call to prove all was well.
NEXT >>
Yet beneath that normalcy, an invisible tension tightened. Friday afternoon, she wheeled her suitcase out. At the entryway, she straightened and met my eyes. "I'm off. Take care—skip the takeout." "Mm," I croaked. She embraced me swiftly, her lips brushing my cheek. "Back soon. Await my call." Her familiar floral scent wafted by, but the hug was fleeting. The door clicked shut, the lock echoing through the empty house.
The Empty Home
I stood motionless long after, the lingering perfume and her words inexplicably unsettling. Anxiety coiled like vines. Silence reigned. Seeking distraction, I flipped through TV channels—loud ads and vapid shows failed to fill the void. The refrigerator's hum amplified. Sipping water by the kitchen window, I watched dusk deepen as unease fermented.
The Endless Friday
Time dragged. I ate mechanically, tasting nothing. While washing dishes, the faucet's rush conjured images of Tracy and Jack on the plane: seated together? Chatting? Would her eyes shine for him? Irritation simmered. Drying my hands, I slumped on the sofa, scrolling aimlessly through my phone, aching for that call to prove all was well.
NEXT >>