My fingers drummed nervously on the thick top of my desk. I kept glancing at the clock. At first it had been uncertainty that had gripped me. The uncertainty had eventually turned into anxiety. I had the feeling that something was wrong at home. For weeks now. Not only was something wrong, but I almost thought I knew I was being cheated on. By my wife, to whom I had been married for 14 years. This feeling had taken root in me a few weeks ago, first tentatively and cautiously irritating my thoughts, then tormenting them more and more, confusing my senses. There weren't even any tangible signs of it. And certainly no evidence. And yet, I was as good as certain.

The way my wife looked past me, the way she stroked me thoughtlessly, the way she was less and less available at home, the way she made statements that didn't seem plausible to me with the best will in the world. Was it all just my imagination? Perhaps. But what if it wasn't? I had actually thought that our marriage wasn't that bad. Unlike many other couples I knew, anyway. Admittedly, the sex had become a bit monotonous. But wasn't that normal? It was still quite nice, I thought. Sabine had never complained. We still slept together regularly and if she didn't play games with me, I could obviously bring her to climax almost every time.

It was five o'clock. I wasn't usually home before six. Determined, I picked up the phone. It took a long time before Sabine finally picked up the phone. She was out of breath. I wasn't imagining it. "Hello, darling. I was in the laundry room ..." I smiled grimly. "I'm sorry if I shooed you up. I just wanted to tell you that it's going to be late tonight. I definitely won't be home before ten." I took a restless breath. "The boss wants to discuss this new complicated case, you know the one I mean, with me over dinner!" Sabine looked visibly relaxed. "Poor you. Don't stress yourself. I'll leave you a nice glass of red wine."

As soon as I hung up, I grabbed my jacket, turned my phone over and drove home immediately. I parked the car a few streets away from where we lived and made my way to our driveway on foot. It was November and already dark, which suited me perfectly today. No one saw me as I walked around our house like a thief, pushing my way through the bushes that had grown almost opaquely around our garden and sneaking to the laundry room entrance, to which I had an emergency key.

I carefully opened the old wooden door. It creaked a little, but not too loudly, I hoped. At first I thought no one was there. It was almost eerily quiet in the house. But I had seen a light. Upstairs in our guest room and in the living room.
I had driven away from the office grim and very tense. But now, surprisingly, I was becoming increasingly calm. I crept through the laundry room and took a deep breath. I paused briefly in front of the stairs that led upstairs. Now I could hear sounds that became clearer with every step I took up. And they were undoubtedly the sounds of love. I should have gotten angry, maybe even freaked out. I should have run upstairs, beside myself with indignation and disappointment. Instead, I had a completely different feeling. I was excited, nervous, yes, but the incredible thing was that I could detect a slight excitement that had taken hold of me. My loins were tingling and I started to
sweating. I had to loosen my tie and dropped my jacket to the floor. Then I walked up the basement stairs, opened the door and knew where to find my wife. The noises were now clearly localized. They were coming from the guest room. At least my wife had enough decency not to do it with someone else in the bed we shared ...

Something pushed me forward. In front of the door to the room, behind which there was rumbling and rustling, sighing and moaning. It was curiosity and tension and a kind of excitement that had been foreign to me until then. Deep down, I was hoping to catch my wife with another man. Making love. When I unmasked this feeling and could no longer ignore it, it frightened me violently. But only for a brief moment. Then this new, unimagined greed I felt was stronger. I carefully pushed the door open a tiny crack. Then a little further. That was as far as I could go. After all, I didn't want to be discovered.

Only the small table lamp was on. In the light of the lamp, I saw my wife lying completely naked on the bed. The first thing I thought at that moment was how tempting she was. And then how naturally and uninhibitedly she presented herself. The naked man lying next to her looked familiar to me for a moment. But I was probably and hopefully mistaken. It didn't necessarily have to be that I knew him. Sabine had pushed her stomach forward and opened her legs wide. She had just shaved and I could smell her unique, typically lime-like scent that she sometimes applied after showering. And for whatever reason, it particularly aroused me.

My loins throbbed. Stronger. My member was under tension. A sigh spread through my chest as I watched the man slide his hand into my wife's crotch. He stroked her almost a little roughly, but she liked it. Sabine stretched under his fingers. She patted her breasts, as she always did when she was particularly aroused. The color of her nipples changed during lovemaking. First they were pink, then they turned a shade of pink. The more aroused my wife gets, the darker her nipples become and when she climaxes, they finally glow bright red. The man bent his head over her lap and kissed her thoroughly. The sound of his kisses was clearly audible. I could see his tongue probing the center of Sabine's womanhood and smiled with satisfaction as she moaned with happiness.

Lost in thought, I pressed my hand against the bulge in my pants. My arousal grew stronger and stronger. What was I doing here? Wasn't I ashamed of myself? Did I need this? What if they saw me? I should have done something. I was the cuckolded husband, the betrayed partner who had been deceived. I should have put an end to the game a long time ago, or at least left in horror, disappointed and burning with anger. But I stayed and my urge to see the two of them sleeping together only grew ...

The man my wife was cheating on me with was satisfying her really imaginatively with just one finger while he continued to kiss her. His fingertip had settled in the right place and didn't seem to want to let her go. He was muscularly built. Suddenly I was sure I'd seen him before. Of course I had. Sabine had taken a few training lessons with him last month. The guy's name was Daniel and he was a tennis coach at the club where she sometimes played. At least my wife didn't have bad taste in her choice of lovers. Strangely enough, that also reassured me somehow ...

Now I could clearly see his member. Big and potent. I felt a pang of jealousy. I was comparing myself to him. He crawled onto my wife. My breathing changed. Sabine wrapped her long, strong legs around his hips. He slid into her at lightning speed, supported himself with his elbows and began to thrust into her steadily and without pause. Heat rose inside me. It was getting tight and uncomfortable in my pants. I would have liked to take my clothes off, but of course I couldn't do that. It was uncomfortable standing so close to the door and I would have liked to open it wider, but I couldn't be discovered. I couldn't imagine how they would react. What an embarrassing situation!

The man pushed himself further between Sabine's legs. They kissed passionately. It was certain that this wasn't their first time together. My wife pressed her hands with her carefully painted red fingernails onto his bare bottom and helped him to push himself deeper into her. His moans swelled. Then suddenly he pulled out of Sabine, pushed himself off the bed, grabbed her roughly and turned her onto her back. His hands clasped her ankles. He pulled her over the rumpled sheets like a doll. She squealed with pleasure at first, then screamed with lustful anticipation. Her fingernails clawed into the sheets. The man pulled her across the bed until her hips were hanging over the edge of the mattress and stood between her legs. He pushed them apart and lifted Sabine up by her thighs. I could see her pubic area from behind. It glistened in her crotch so that I could have bitten into it.

Then her lover's bottom blocked my view of her feminine pleasure. I watched Sabine's lovemaking with fascination. She was tense to the extreme with excitement. I watched for a few more seconds as the man pushed his power into her.
into her. Then, just before they came together to complete their act, I had to pull back. Otherwise my own lust would have become unmistakable. I slipped away, breathing heavily with suppressed greed. What was I supposed to do with this? Impatiently, I rushed out of the house. Outside, I had to take a long deep breath before I could think reasonably clearly again. My reaction, or rather my non-reaction, to what had happened remained incomprehensible to me.

I slowly walked back to my car, got in and drove to a nearby pub. Fortunately, there was no one there who knew me. The cognac just had to be there at that moment. I stayed seated until I had completely calmed down, then I drove back home. Sabine was lying in our bed. She looked freshly showered and smelled so good. I could smell her so unique typical lime scent that she sometimes put on after showering. And which, for whatever reason, particularly excited me. She blinked at me. Somehow expectantly. I stood hesitantly in front of the bed. My wife held out her hand to me. "Come to me. I've been waiting for you ..."

She was wearing a black, transparent, beautiful negligee under the comforter. It seemed to be new. "I bought it especially for you today. For us," she added. My clothes fell to the floor. Naked, I climbed into bed with my wife. Words could no longer describe my desire for her. She seemed more incredibly desirable and seductive than I had ever felt in our entire marriage. I only thought about her as I touched her, kissed her and slid into her. That night, I slept with her in every imaginable position. We did it seemingly effortlessly in really unusual positions. We felt light and exhilarated. We were more in tune with each other than we had been for a long time. Our orgasms were unique.

What such unusual fantasies are sometimes good for ..., I thought before I finally fell asleep completely satisfied and totally exhausted, with my completely happy wife in my arms. I wouldn't have to tell her what sexual fantasy I had imagined ... However, when I went to the laundry room the next morning to pack my sneakers for the evening soccer training session, I stepped on my jacket, which was lying carelessly on the laundry room stairs.
on the laundry room stairs. I pondered the whole day and came to the following conclusion: I had suspected that something was wrong at home. That my wife, to whom I had been married for almost 14 years, was cheating on me. There was no proof, but there were signs. Serious signs. I would keep a very close eye on my wife from now on ...

Erotic fantasies - "All just fantasy?" by Dave Vandenberg - Carl Stephenson Verlag