Victoria adjusted her glasses, the thin wire frames sliding down her nose as she looked from her lover’s hungry gaze to Artem’s pathetic, bound form in the corner chair. Her tight pencil skirt hugged her hips, the white button-down straining over her tits with each breath. “Watch closely, *moy muzh*,” she purred, her voice dripping with contempt.

Her lover, a brute named Sergei, didn’t wait. His big hands grabbed the hem of her skirt, yanking it up around her waist. The sound of the fabric straining was loud in the silent room. No panties. Her bare pussy, already glistening wet, was exposed to the cool air and Artem’s horrified stare. Sergei’s thick fingers dove straight into her slick folds. “She’s dripping for me, Artem,” he grunted, working two fingers inside her with a filthy, squelching sound. “Your prim wife. Her cunt is pulsing around my hand.”

Victoria moaned, arching her back, her tits pushing against the crisp cotton of her shirt. “He’s right,” she gasped, looking directly at her husband. “His fingers feel so much bigger. They fill me up. You never made me this wet.” She reached back, unbuttoning her shirt slowly, letting it fall open to reveal her heavy breasts, nipples hard and begging for attention.

Sergei bent her over the arm of the sofa, her skirt still rucked up, her ass in the air. He freed his cock—a thick, veined monster that made Artem whimper. Victoria glanced over her