I turned towards him during the ride and opened my legs, giving him a full view of my thong and the wetness that had soaked through it. He hesitated at first, glancing nervously towards my husband, but when he saw that my husband was completely focused on the road, he reached over and placed his hand on my thigh. A jolt of excitement surged through me as his fingers traced the edge of my thong, slowly inching closer to where I desperately wanted them to be.

The thrill of doing something so forbidden right under my husband’s nose only heightened my arousal. I let out a soft sigh, and he took it as a sign to continue. His fingers slipped under the thin fabric, finding the slickness that had built up from my anticipation. The way he touched me was nothing like how my husband did. He was more confident, more attentive, and I could tell he enjoyed every second of it.

We both knew this was wrong, yet neither of us could stop. As his fingers moved rhythmically, I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning out loud. My husband remained oblivious, lost in his own thoughts as we sped down the dark road. The danger of being caught only made it more exhilarating.

When we finally arrived home, I could barely wait to be alone with him. My husband, exhausted from the night’s festivities, went straight to bed. As soon as I heard his soft snores, I slipped out of the bedroom and tiptoed to the guest room where his best man was staying.

The moment I stepped inside, he pulled me into his arms, kissing me with a hunger that matched my own. We didn’t speak; words weren’t necessary. The only sounds were our heavy breaths and the rustling of clothes as we quickly undressed each other.

When he entered me, it was like a dam bursting. All the pent-up frustration and longing I had felt for so long was finally released. We moved together in perfect sync, our bodies driven by pure desire. It was everything I had fantasized about and more.

Afterwards, as we lay tangled in each other’s arms, reality began to creep back in. Guilt started to weigh on me, but it was overshadowed by the satisfaction of having my needs met in a way they hadn’t been in years. I knew this couldn’t be the last time. The thrill, the passion, and the connection we shared was something I couldn’t give up.

I slipped back into bed with my husband, my body still tingling from the night’s events. I had no idea where this would lead or what the future held, but I knew one thing for sure: I wasn’t ready to give up the secret life I had built.