She Is - 20
Copyright© 2026 by RogueTen
Chapter 3
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 3 - 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 Orgy 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
You come out. Omar is already in the hallway. He has left dirty tracks all over the apartment; he never even took off his boots to fuck your wife. Ann watches you nervously.
“Oh, Yuri, why did you slam the door like that?”
You say nothing. You know how to make your silence expressive and meaningful, so that anyone you are talking to, any subordinate, even your own wife, begins frantically inspecting their previous remark, mentally panicking: did they make a mistake, even in their tone of voice?...
“O ... Omar understands everything. He’s sorry,” Ann says, blushing.
“Yes,” the old man nods, clearly afraid of you. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I climbed into your place ... I suppose everyone wants someone to take them in when they’re old. And I don’t have anyone except you. I thought ... I don’t know ... I could warm myself at the comfort of your home, like a moth drawn to a flame. I listen to myself and realize I’ve become a completely senile old fool! I didn’t know I’d walk in on a ... moment like that.”
You remain silent. You tell yourself your bond with Ann is higher and stronger than this betrayal. You certainly cannot throw your wife out of the apartment along with the old immigrant who fucked her. We are all hostages to family ties. The orgasm you had in the bathroom helps a little, calms you. More than that: it makes you an accomplice to the infidelity! After all, if you took your share of the proceeds of a crime, you’re a criminal too ... Yes, that also cools your anger.
“It’s all right, we’ve talked, and now it definitely won’t happen again,” your wife fills your silence with her voice. “As a gesture of goodwill and reconciliation, Omar is going to stay with us...”
“WHAT?!” you exclaim, breaking your silence. Strange that the window doesn’t crack from your shout. Ann swallows.
“Omar’s just ill, he’s been walking around with a fever. Let him stay here...”
“Yes,” the vagrant nods. “I’ve been getting sick a lot. Old age, you bitch of a fate...”
“Are you two fucking kidding me?!!” you shout.
You fly at the old man and seize the collar of his work clothes so hard that several buttons pop off. You open the door and fling him into the stairwell.
“You can recover in your own country!” you shout. “I’ll have a word with your boss. You’ll lose your job and that basement!”
You slam the door. That seems to have done it. You should have done this long ago. Good.
“WHAT WAS THAT?!” your wife exclaims indignantly.
“Nothing. We simply won’t have any more janitors in this building,” you say, sitting at the table and buttering a piece of bread. “As of today, consider all the janitors gone. They’ve died out, like the dinosaurs. Any questions?”
Ann’s lips twitch. Clearly there are questions. But she knows what she was just doing with the old man. Whether it is guilt or fear that you have guessed something, Ann decides to hold her tongue and goes to the bathroom. To soak her lover off?
You eat your bread and butter, pleased with yourself. Yet something inside keeps twitching uneasily. Omar has had his deserved dose of vengeance, while Ann ... has simply gone to wash. And she cheated on you: brazenly, vilely, humiliatingly! Then proposed moving her lover in with you! It’s obvious why! You no longer believe it’s all down to pity for the old man, although with Ann nothing is ever clear.
The longer you think about it, the more you marvel at your wife’s limitless gall. Perhaps Omar’s semen was still inside her when she said she had decided (without consulting you!) to let the vagrant stay.
“I made her this way myself,” you think. “Spoiled her, never tried to make her play fair. She realized she could get away with anything! Anything! She doesn’t have to work, housework isn’t for her either, and now even cheating goes unpunished! Of course, the logical next step is to move her lover in, so every pleasure is within reach! And she won’t be bored while her husband is out earning money for her!”
You work yourself up. You don’t notice your indignation giving way to ... arousal! Involuntarily, unconsciously, you admire your magnificent wife’s shamelessness and whorishness! For so many years she played the spiritual, sinless person, suppressing every vice ... for so long that her present whorishness is itself the best revenge on her! Suddenly you feel you want to revel in it, plunge your hands into it. Yes, this is the best punishment for Ann: to capture her in this whore’s condition, prevent her from putting on the “good girl” mask again.
You realize you cannot simply sit there as though nothing has happened. Has Ann, incidentally, forgotten you were interrupted in the middle of sex? Well, you will remind her!
... She greets you with silence.
Offended by your harshness, then.
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