She Is - 20
Copyright© 2026 by RogueTen
Chapter 4
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 4 - 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
The earth has a skin, and that skin is afflicted with diseases. One of those diseases is called, for example, “man.” I’m serious: look at Omar, isn’t he a disease? This fat, filthy janitor, with his chronic prostatitis and degenerating spine, even walked in a somehow misshapen way, dirtying the earth with his feet. Pigeon-toed, swaying; speeding up, slowing down to the rhythm of his thoughts. Fate’s poor plaything. A mere draft of happiness had blown across his heart while he was having that beautiful woman, and then her husband had intervened and wrecked Omar’s entire life in an instant! As though the old man had drunk honey and washed it down with poison. He had no doubt Yuri would carry out his threat.
Crushed, Omar made for his basement. There was no point working now. Then the Tragedian blew on the ladder. It wobbled. The old man looked at it. It had wobbled just like that when he was discovered.
The slow-witted old fool, blind to the signs of fate, turned away and headed for the basement again. The Tragedian had to blow once more. Omar frowned. The ladder was swaying so much that he couldn’t leave it propped against the building. He took hold of it to put it away, but then thought, “The worst has already happened. Why not try climbing up again, one last time?”
Dreams swarmed in the old Wanker’s head: he would see Ann naked again.
After all, he would never see her like that again ... His ancient loins stirred to life, began filling with strength. Omar remembered that he had never possessed such frenzied sexual energy in his youth. It had come later, when he surrendered himself wholly and utterly to his demons...
The Tragedian held the ladder steady while the half-wit climbed, his backside wagging. There was no one in the apartment. At least that was how it first seemed to Omar. But then he heard voices and saw the open bathroom door. He listened.
“Ann, but ... vagrant!” the “local sucker” was saying. He couldn’t hear everything.
“But he fucks...!” “his slut” answered. Now this was interesting. The old man’s eyes lit up.
That day the sun flooded the City of B with red gold; its reflections spread like lava pouring from a volcano. Perhaps it was the sun, since the body’s serotonin depends on it — you know, the hormone that cures fear and lightens the heart — or perhaps it was something else, but the cowardly freak found the nerve to climb into the apartment.
Quieter than silence itself, the old man began measuring out the distance from the window to the bathroom door with his steps. It’s hard to remain unheard and unseen when you are a pigeon-toed goat in human form. But Omar was driven by the desire to hear something secret and humiliating about the man who had wronged him. Spite is the best spur to action.
Reaching the door, the janitor ventured a timid look inside.
The local bitch was in the bath.
“I love Omar’s cock,” she was saying with a smile. “You can tell at once he’s a real man. You can tell by his cock. And it doesn’t matter which of you is a janitor and which is a bank manager!”
“Oh, Ann, what are you saying?!” her husband exclaimed in a strange voice. Somewhat affected, perhaps. And meanwhile he was ... masturbating.
“Hold on,” Omar thought. “Something’s wrong! ... Everything’s wrong! This whore wouldn’t talk to her cuckold like that ... and even if he does like it when his slut gets fucked, he wouldn’t jerk off to such outright mockery! Or would he?...”
In truth, Omar was prepared to believe any perversion of the city’s corrupt inhabitants. That was the City of B for you: money instead of air. People in a city like that couldn’t be normal.
“How do you like Omar to fuck you? In what position?” the naked, masturbating husband asked his wife. She raised an eyebrow. Hesitated. Then turned her back to him and got on all fours.
“Like this, darling.”
And the local cuckold actually moaned at that!
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.