Out on the town with the wife

The local aquarium was a sanctuary of flickering blues and greens, a world apart from the harsh realities of their own. Sara had suggested it, her voice lilting with excitement, thinking it would be a lovely, relaxing day for them after their "exhausting" night. For Jack, it was a purgatory of shimmering light and synthetic tranquility. He walked beside Sara, her hand nestled in his, feeling like an imposter in his own skin.

Fish, vibrant and serene, glided through massive tanks, their scales catching the refracted light. Sharks, dark and predatory, patrolled their domains with silent menace. Jack felt a chilling kinship with them, a primal fear lurking beneath a placid surface. He was the prey, swimming in plain sight, utterly exposed.

Sara, however, was in her element. She moved from tank to tank with childlike wonder, pointing out a clownfish, giggling at a grumpy-looking rockfish. Her joy was infectious, or it would have been, if Jack hadn't been drowning in his own silent misery.

They paused before a colossal tank, home to a majestic manta ray that seemed to possess an ethereal grace as it soared through the water. Sara leaned into Jack, her head resting on his shoulder, her breath warm against his ear.

"Isn't it beautiful, Jack?" she whispered, her voice husky.

He murmured an assent, his gaze fixed on the ray, wishing he could disappear into the silent depths alongside it.

Then, her hand, warm and soft, found his arm, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on his forearm. Her voice dropped lower, a sultry murmur that was meant for his ears alone. "You know, Jack," she began, her eyes still on the manta ray, but her meaning unmistakably directed at him, "I can still feel you inside me."

Jack stiffened, his blood turning to ice. He knew what was coming.

"My panties are absolutely sodden," she continued, her voice laced with a playful intimacy. "Just a complete, glorious mess. All that amazing cum of yours just dripping out, slowly. It makes me feel so wonderfully full, so complete. Like you're still making love to me even now." She giggled softly, a sound that made Jack's stomach churn with revulsion and despair. "It’s so much more than usual, darling. I think you've really stretched me out. I don't think I've ever had so much of you inside me."

The words, so innocent in her delivery, were a testament to Leia’s brutal efficiency, her overwhelming size. Jack felt a wave of nausea. It wasn't his cum. It was Leia's. Leia's immense, potent release, now slowly leaking from his wife, a tangible reminder of his failure, his humiliation. He hated Leia. He hated himself. He hated that he couldn't even show his disgust, his horror. He had to smile, or at least pretend to.

He tried to keep his face impassive, his gaze fixed on the mesmerising dance of the fish. "That's… that's good, darling," he choked out, the words tasting like gravel.

Sara, still holding his arm, then let her hand drift lower. Her fingers brushed against his thigh, then his crotch, a familiar, intimate gesture that now felt like a brutal invasion. Jack’s breath hitched. Despite his inner turmoil, his body, betraying him as always, stirred. The warmth of her touch, the sheer animal instinct, began to harden him, a tiny, four-inch monument to his own inadequacy.

Her fingers wrapped around him, her grip surprisingly firm, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. "Mm, look what we have here," she purred, her eyes finally leaving the tank to meet his, sparkling with desire. "Still hard for your wife, even after last night? You really are insatiable, aren't you, my tiger?"

Jack’s face burned. He felt like a fraud, a pathetic imitation of the man she thought he was. He was a small, soft thing in her hand, utterly inadequate compared to the magnificent instrument that had pleasured her just hours before.

She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, her eyes shining with earnest belief. "Well, my love, good thing I remembered these."

Her hand retracted from his crotch, and she reached into the small, elegant clutch bag she carried. Jack watched, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs, as she pulled out a small, amber vial. It was familiar. Too familiar.

The label, originally 'Vitamin C', had been hastily scratched out with a thick, black marker. In its place, scrawled with an almost triumphant flourish, was a single, crude word: 'COCK'

Sara held up the vial, her smile radiant, her eyes full of loving devotion. "Those special supplements that Leia recommended, remember? The ones that make you so… impressive." She winked, a playful, suggestive gesture that felt like a punch to Jack’s gut. "You forgot to take them this morning, didn't you, you silly boy? Don't worry, I'm here to look after my man."

She twisted open the cap, revealing the bright orange pills inside. Jack stared at the crude, re-written label, the word 'COCK' mocking him, searing itself into his brain. He was a prisoner in his own life, a silent spectator to his wife’s blissful delusion, a delusion built on his boss’s monstrous deception. He stood there, frozen, as Sara, his beautiful, loving, utterly oblivious wife, lovingly shook out a 'Cock' pill for him, believing it would make him bigger, stronger, more like the man who had truly filled her in the most mind-blowing way. The man who wasn't him. The Futa who was Leia.