She Is 4
Copyright© 2025 by RogueTen
Chapter 9
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 9 - A saintly yoga wife, her burned-out "nice guy" husband, and a creepy basement janitor slip into one messed-up loop of lust, guilt and voyeurism. This isn’t about cheating, it’s about something worse: when you suddenly realize it turns you on to see your perfect little world get dragged through the mud – and you don’t want it to stop.
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Consensual Drunk/Drugged NonConsensual Romantic BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Cheating Cuckold Sharing Slut Wife Wife Watching Wimp Husband RAAC DomSub Humiliation Light Bond Rough Spanking Gang Bang Group Sex Swinging Interracial Black Male White Male White Female Oriental Male White Couple Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism Facial Fisting Masturbation Oral Sex Spitting Squirting Voyeurism Public Sex Prostitution
The old man did bring a bottle into the house after all. But he drank it in secret, out of everyone’s sight. He was celebrating his luck and his impunity. Somehow, no matter what he did, he kept coming out of it dry.
Well. The Universe never invented justice.
Man did. But luckily — or unluckily — a man with his ideas of justice still has to live inside a Universe that doesn’t even have such a concept...
Drunk, Omar was struck by a reckless, brave idea:
The sucker husband will swallow this too, he thought.
Still in that ridiculous white robe that didn’t fit him, Omar staggered into the spouses’ bedroom. They were kissing, getting ready to have sex. Annette was already down to nothing but erotic lingerie. She yelped when she saw the old man’s shape in the dark — Omar looked like a troll. But the very next second he turned on the light.
“‘Scuse... ‘scuse me for both’rin’,” he said, tongue thick.
“What the hell are you doing in here?!” Yuri barked.
“I ... standin’...”
Annette, unable to hold it in, laughed in relief. The old man looked ridiculous — as ridiculous as it gets.
“Honey, he’s drunk! Omar, I told you you can’t drink alcohol while you’re taking antibiotics!”
“I din’t take m’ antib’otic ... t’night.”
“I don’t know whether to praise you or scold you for that ... but either way it’s rude to get drunk in someone else’s home and burst into the bedroom at night!”
“I knocked ... on the door...” he insisted, swaying. “Only it’s like ... there ain’t no door, y’know?”
Annette snorted again. Seeing the state he was in, she stopped hiding behind the blanket — her guard dropped.
That was exactly what Omar needed. Swaying, he moved toward the bed.
“Y’know ... I adore you,” the old man confessed to them. “No one’s done me as much good as you two. I just got sad that soon I’ll leave ... and there won’t be your kindness ... so I started drinkin’.”
“That’s sweet,” Annette said, touched.
“The monologue of an alcoholic looking for reasons to get drunk,” Yuri muttered. Annette hissed at him. The old man came closer to her.
“Thank you, sweet girl — defendin’ an old man. You’re a wondrous creature. An’ your cheeks ... so temptin’ like ... like ... like...”