She lies in their marital bed and touches herself between her legs, feeling the warm cum against her finger tips. She can hear her husband downstairs locking up and getting ready to come to bed.
Her cheeks burn with shame and excitement.
Because it's not her husband's cum.
She raises a finger to her lips and tastes the cum of the man who made her call him Daddy while he violated her in the bathroom of the pub not two hours ago .
Her husband doesn't know. Her relief for that fact is also laced with contempt: How can he not know? How can he not sense that his beloved wife has been used, defiled, and changed forever.
That she has been stolen.
