Chapter 7 - The Old Classmate

That night, I logged onto the "Test Your Wife" forum and found RealMen69 online. For some reason, I felt a spark of joy, like reconnecting with a close friend. Perhaps because, over the past weeks, this stranger's account was the only place I could pour out my unspoken fears, always ready to listen and offer sincere advice.

I quickly messaged RealMen69, recounting my unexpected encounter with Viet, now our neighbor, and asking his opinion on Viet's dinner invitation.

• "I think you should agree and bring your wife over for dinner," he replied.

I typed back instantly: "But I'm not comfortable with Hoa being around Viet."

• "Why? Don't you trust your wife that much?"
• "It's not that. I trust Hoa, but I still feel uneasy. You don't know Viet!"
• "It's just dinner with an old classmate, mate. Don't overthink it. He's your neighbor now, you can't avoid him forever."
• "What if Viet does something inappropriate with Hoa?"
• "Isn't that what you want?"

His response stunned me. "What do you mean?" I asked.

• "I mean, don't you want to know if your wife is faithful? If your buddy tries something, you need to hold back and pretend you don't notice. Let Viet help you see her true feelings."
• "But..." I hesitated.
• "This is a perfect opportunity. If she passes this test, you can fully trust her loyalty and prove nothing can shake your marriage."

His words made sense.

The next morning, I asked Hoa about going to Viet's for dinner. For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a flicker of surprise on her face when I mentioned Viet, but it passed so quickly I might've imagined it. After a brief pause, she nodded in agreement and even went to the market to buy fruit and pastries to bring over. Watching her bustle about on a weekend, I felt guilty for rejecting her advances lately. Tonight, I'd make it up to her.

The afternoon came quickly. Glancing at the clock, it was past 5 p.m. I called upstairs, "Hoa, you ready? Let's go!"

• "Coming!" she replied, hurrying down the stairs, looking graceful as ever.

Mom, playing with my son, Bi, asked curiously, "Where are you two off to? Not have dinner at home?"

• "Oh, my old classmate Viet just moved into the house next door," I explained. "He invited us over for dinner. I forgot to mention."

Hoa chimed in, "I've already prepared the food, Mom. Just reheat it later. Could you, Dad, and Tam feed Bi his porridge? We'll be back soon."

My sister, Tam, glued to her phone, looked up and teased, "Whoa, sister-in-law is all dolled up! First time in ages I've seen you in a dress. Those curves are better than a beauty queen!"

• "Stop teasing your sister-in-law!" I shot back, then glanced at Hoa's alluring figure, swelling with pride.

Hoa blushed, nudging me. "We're late. Llet's go!"

We laughed, holding hands as we headed to our neighbor's.

Moments after ringing the bell, Viet opened the door and welcomed us in.

I sized him up, surprised. He greeted us in snug athletic wear, a black tank top and shorts that showed off his chiseled muscles and an overly prominent bulge in his crotch.

As Hoa and I stood in shock, Viet shamelessly scanned every curve of her body. Then he grinned and said, "Sorry, just got back from the gym, haven't changed. Look at you, Hoa. The most beautiful girl in our class! Still drop-dead gorgeous after all these years!"

Before we could respond, he stepped forward and hugged Hoa as a greeting. A wave of masculine scent hit us.

Standing close, I felt it strongly. How must Hoa feel, wrapped in his firm embrace? I frowned as his hands lingered on her round hips, pressing their lower bodies together. The hug was far too intimate. Before I could object, he released her and ushered us inside. Hoa, seemingly dazed, exchanged a confused glance with me as we followed him in.

Inside, a table was set with food. The three of us sat down, starting the meal.

Watching Hoa and Viet chat like old friends catching up, I began to let go of my baseless worries. Mid-meal, Viet suddenly said, "Oh!" as if remembering something, and went to the kitchen, returning with a bottle of Chivas Regal 18. I'm a lightweight. I'll be done after two drinks. But since we lived next door, I didn't protest.

As we sat back down, Viet slapped his forehead. "Forgot the glasses for the whiskey!"

• "I'll grab them and bring out the fruit," Hoa offered, heading to the kitchen.

Viet and I watched her hips sway with each step. He smirked, directing her to the glasses on the top shelf. Hoa stretched on her toes but, being petite, couldn't reach. Viet jumped up, walked over, and to my shock, pressed himself against her back to grab three glasses. I could see him deliberately grinding his bulging crotch against her plump hips, lingering as he reached up. They rubbed against each other for a full minute before getting the glasses.

The provocative scene made my face flush and my throat dry. Remembering RealMen69's advice, I suppressed the indescribable feelings swirling inside.

When Hoa and Viet returned to the table, I quickly looked down, picking at my food, pretending I saw nothing.

We continued eating as if nothing happened. Viet kept joking, making Hoa giggle. I tried to shake off the image of his crotch against her hips, downing the whiskey he kept pouring. Soon, my head spun, and my words slurred.

Glancing at Hoa, her face was flushed, her eyes hazy with ****. Viet, still lively, occasionally leaned close to her, barely hiding his hungry stares at her full breasts. My innocent wife giggled obliviously.

Needing to pee, I stood to use the bathroom in the kitchen, but Viet's eyes glinted as he said, "The kitchen bathroom's broken. No flush. Use the one upstairs, end of the hall, on the left. Oh, and please help me to fill the water bucket in there in case we lose water later."

I nodded, stumbling upstairs. At the end of the hall, I turned left but realized I'd entered the wrong room. Viet's bedroom. It felt wrong to snoop, so I turned to leave.

As I did, my eyes caught the laptop screen on his desk. It was the "Test Your Wife" forum I visited daily to confide in RealMen69.

A vague sense of unease and fear stirred, but my drunken mind couldn't linger. I couldn't stay in his bedroom, so I found the bathroom.

After relieving myself, I remembered Viet's request to fill the bucket. Seeing an empty one, I turned on the faucet, watching the water slowly rise. As soon as the water roared into the bucket, the chatter downstairs stopped. Viet's sparsely furnished house echoed sounds clearly. I'd heard their laughter while peeing, and they'd surely hear the water now. I found it odd but couldn't leave the running faucet to check. I waited nearly five minutes until the bucket was full, then turned off the tap and returned downstairs.

Back at the table, the vibe between Hoa and Viet felt... off.

Viet shot me a smug grin and urged me to sit and eat. Hoa seemed flustered, adjusting her neckline, her lips glistening with moisture. As I sat, Viet casually lifted his hips, adjusting his pants as if pulling them up.

Then Hoa stood, saying she needed the bathroom. Viet, seeing her wobble, quickly offered to guide her.

• "I need to go too. I'll show her the way."

My head foggy from the whiskey, I watched helplessly as he supported Hoa upstairs. After what felt like ages, I heard footsteps. Turning, I saw them descending, arm in arm, laughing.

• "What took so long?" I asked uneasily.
• "Oh, Hoa wanted to see the house, so I gave her a tour!" Viet replied smoothly.

I **** an awkward smile, the atmosphere growing tense. Noticing a wet spot on Viet's bulging crotch, I teased, "Your little guy crying, huh? Haha!"

He glanced down, chuckled, and grabbed his crotch, saying, "Haha, your wife's fault!"

I froze, looking at Hoa, who stammered beside me. Viet smirked and continued, "I was peeing, but she kept rushing me, so I zipped up too soon. Haha! Let's eat! They say a big dick means you'll never starve, but I'm always famished!"

His crude joke made me blush, reminded of my own tiny "chili pepper" dick. It's a source of pain and shame for me as a man. It's why I tried so hard to cherish and make up for Hoa. I poured myself a full glass of whiskey and downed it.

After a few more, my head slumped onto the table. In my drunken haze, I saw Viet pressing close to Hoa. His restless hands roamed her curves, slipping under her clothes. Then, Hoa's rapid breaths were muffled by a wet kiss. That was the last thing I saw before passing out.

In my drunken stupor, I was roused by rhythmic slurping and thumping sounds around me. I tried to open my eyes, but my head throbbed unbearably. Giving up, I let the heavy breaths pull me back into a deep sleep.

The next morning, I woke with a pounding headache. Shaking it off, I realized I was in my own bed, stripped naked. Beside me, Hoa lay bare, her face tired but with a satisfied smile.

Seeing me awake, she opened her eyes, smiled, and said, "Morning, honey! You devil. Drunk as hell last night but still went at it like crazy. You even came inside. What if I get pregnant again?"

I was stunned. In all our years of marriage, she'd never called me "honey" so sweetly. Grinning, I replied, "Another sibling for our son wouldn't hurt. Did you like it, babe?"

• "Loved it! I'm still tingling down there. Lick me, honey!"

Feeling guilty for rejecting her needs lately, I slid down to her crotch. As she spread her legs, her neatly trimmed bush and slick, reddened slit came into view. I paused, looking at it. Before I could speak, she pressed my head down with one hand, fondling her full breasts with the other. I ran my tongue along her slit, tasting a salty, musky flavor. Shuddering but thinking it was mine, I licked eagerly amid her moans.

Not giving my mind a chance to wander, Hoa pushed my head deeper, moaning with lust, "More, honey! Harder... ah!"

Her eyes stayed closed, hands kneading her hardened breasts. Aroused by the sight, I licked harder, slipping a hand into my pants to stroke myself. Suddenly, a thick, sticky fluid gushed from her depths into my mouth. It was so much I nearly choked, but I kept going, not wanting to ruin her mood. Hearing my slurping, she looked down and giggled, "Hii... you're the best husband!"

As she spoke, she grabbed her phone, pushed me aside, and texted someone, smiling happily. I quietly sat up and went to the bathroom to finish myself off.

After cleaning up, I returned to find Hoa asleep again, her phone open beside her. Probably still tipsy, she'd dozed off. Seeing a new message on her screen, I recalled the hazy scene from last night before I blacked out.

Unable to suppress my doubts, I crept to the bed and picked up her phone. My heart pounded as I saw a chat between Hoa and Viet. The latest message was from her. It's a photo of me eating her out, with a crying-laughing emoji.

As I wondered why she'd sent such an intimate photo to Viet, another message arrived from him: "Told you Thien's a total pushover, but you were scared! Haha. Should've pumped you a few more times last night so your husband could suck it all up. He won't need a breakfast this morning."

My hands turned ice-cold. I stared at Hoa, sleeping soundly, then back at the phone, unable to believe my eyes. She stirred, mumbling incoherently, then sank back into sleep.

Trying to stay calm, I forwarded their entire chat to my phone, placed hers back beside her, and quietly left for work.