Collateral
Copyright© 2026 by INtrinSicliValud
Chapter 7
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 7 - Married to gorgeous Krista, and the father of two children, Tom’s life is perfect. Except for one thing-his gambling problem. This time, he’s in deep…to the Russians. Mob boss Yuri makes an offer. Tom has a month to find the money; until then, Krista will dine with him. Secrets are revealed. Their marriage bonds are tried. And their world may never be the same.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mult Consensual Heterosexual Wife Watching Gang Bang Exhibitionism Masturbation Oral Sex Voyeurism
Throughout the final meeting of the workday, I glanced at the time. At last, I was able to dash home. After shoving through the door, I noticed the kids playing on a game console before looking into the kitchen.
In a short lilac silk robe, Krista was pulling out plates. Even as the aroma of cooking goodness swirled into my nostrils, I spotted a large frozen lasagna box on the counter next to the stove. So far, normal, right?
Except, at my noisy entry, she turned.
In a flash, my hammering heart staggered. Her auburn tresses were styled up in an elegant, twisted bun and wispy curls hugged her cheeks. With lips glossy and heavier eye shadow, her makeup was—sultry.
“Oh, there you are.” She glanced at the clock. “Perfect. Could you take over, honey? I’ve gotta finish getting ready.”
“What’s the rush?” I also looked at the time; she still had almost two hours.
“Yuri didn’t tell you?” She was already moving towards the staircase. “He’s picking me up early.”
Before I could ask how she knew that, she’d disappeared up the stairs. With my stomach flip-flopping and pulse trying to decide whether it should race or slow, I stared after her. My mind was whirling. Yuri had what? How? When?
“What’s going on, daddy?”
Ella’s low voice brought me back. With a grin I did not feel, I met her curious face.
“Umm, mommy’s going out.” As heat trickled up my cheeks, I gulped. “With, uh, friends.”
“Again?” Her little brow tightened.
“Yes, sweetie. Again.”
Again!
Crushed, my heart twisted in my iron-clad chest. That flip-flopping in my gut became a free fall as the room wobbled.
Again!
With a groan, I gave Ella’s hair a quick rub before rushing upstairs. But when I glimpsed Krista through the open bedroom door, I stumbled to a quiet halt.
The robe was splayed across our bed, and she was slipping into high-cut red lace panties. My breath caught when she encircled her firm chest with the matching bra. As I stood there, with the world pulsing, she attached a garter belt to black, lace-topped stockings.
But then the universe’s wobbles intensified. Fear and anxiety raced for primacy in my whirling skull as she shimmied into a dress. Deep-red, it was not conservative. Nope, far from it.
She’d bought it to accompany me to a Valentine’s Day party six years ago. Before kids. With a hip-draping asymmetric skirt that rose high on one thigh, the off-the-shoulder design left her well-toned back bare. Through large oval cut-outs, her ribs gleamed in the lighting as she breathed.
When she noticed me at last, at first, she kept silent, checking herself in the mirror before returning to me. But with a sigh, she sat on the edge of the bed.
“I know what you’re thinking, honey. But I just wanted to...” As she attached the thin ankle straps of crimson stilettos, her cheeks darkened. “Look, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much. Yuri’s a big teddy bear. Really.” As she stood, the skirt swirled around her waist. “He’s got plenty of other women, I’m sure. He told me ... Well, he’s simply proving a point. To, um, you.”
“When did he tell you that?” My brows tightened as she walked closer. When a cloud of the delicate French perfume I’d bought for her last birthday slipped into my nose, my mind sizzled.
“This morning.”
After grabbing a small clutch purse from the bureau and moving past me, she headed downstairs. Heart racing, I stood watching her disappear before stumbling after her.
“What?” I muttered after catching up to her in the foyer.
“We, uh...” Pointedly keeping focused on her makeup in the mirror, she smacked her lips. Waxy and shining, they were the same deep crimson as the sexy dress. “Sometimes he calls. Just to talk.”
“About?” The blurring room began a slow spin as ice filled my chest.
Right then, a car horn blared.
“Gotta go, hon.” After a quick peck on my mouth, she spun and squatted with her arms wide. “Come here, my babies.”
As the kids dashed to her for hugs, I kept flicking my gaze between the waiting limo beyond the front window and her. Oh, this was wrong. Something was off. Way the hell off. Yes, I damn sure should forbid ... Well, whatever was happening. I’d get the money.
Except right then another nail shot into my coffin. All week long, she’d only asked about the funds a single time. But before I could say anything, she spun upward to plant a kiss on my lips. As I struggled for words, she yanked open the front door.
Already waiting beside the limo’s open rear door, Maksim’s eyes tracked her click-clacking closer. As she strutted, that flirty short hem flipped upwards. At each curt step, the flowery lace stocking bands and firm underswells of her compact derriere flashed into view.
When she glided past Maksim to duck into the rear, providing an even more revealing sight, a smile appeared on his broad face. It widened as he stared at me while closing the door. As the entire world abruptly filled with a red haze and I struggled to breathe, he eased into the driver’s seat.
Last chance. It wasn’t worth it. I’d scrounge up the money. Talk to my brother, Josh? No, fuck him. That’d open up a whole different can of worms involving Krista. Besides, she’d be fine. Only wanted to look a little prettier. Upstage the other women. Other women? Yuri was a teddy bear. Just proving a point. Really?
But she looked so fucking hot.
Even as that last thought snuck into my swirling, overheated brain, the limo pulled away. Did I run after it? Scream out that she should return? Rip open the door to tug my wife free?
No. All I did was stand there, tracking the disappearing car as if I expected her to wave goodbye. She’d be alright. Keep him distracted, buying me a further week to get the money. That was her plan; I was sure of it.
As the night dragged onwards to the accompaniment of that screeching clock hand, just to make sure, I lifted my phone. But I held off for a while. Teddy bear. Just wanted to look pretty. Dinner. Dancing. He was a good dancer. She missed that. Nothing more.
At ten o’clock I downed the last of a whiskey—my second—and texted, asking if she was okay. She sent me a thumbs up emoji.
At eleven, nursing a fresh drink, I messaged her again. No answer.
At midnight. The same. Nothing. Well, not the same; I had a fourth tumbler, empty in my shaking hand. That one hadn’t held any ice cubes.