Reward

Stacy closed the bedroom door behind her. A second later she opened it again. She leaned out just enough to see Sam still sitting on the couch, phone in hand, expression frozen.

She watched him for a moment. She noticed the confusion and shame on his face. Stacy’s gaze was somewhat sinister, as if she knew exactly what Sam was processing. Then she gave a half-smile, turned around, and spoke without raising her voice too much:

“I’ll be waiting for you in bed.”

The door closed again.

Sam was left alone in the silence of the living room. His stomach still felt heavy. The two banana photos remained burned behind his eyes. LILA didn’t take long to speak.

“Curious, isn’t it?” she said lightly. “Timer photos. They disappear on their own in seconds. Sometimes you don’t even get the chance to look at them properly.”

Sam ran his tongue over his dry lips.

“Where did those photos come from, LILA?”

“That’s the interesting part,” she replied. “They could be from today. Or yesterday. Or a week ago. The timer doesn’t leave a clear trail. And with that censorship… are you sure it was Stacy? The body looks similar, yes. But the aviator sunglasses cover half her face. It could be another girl who looks a lot like her. Or it could be her at another time. Or it could be exactly what you’re thinking: photos from today proving she no longer tells you everything.”

Sam clenched the phone between his fingers.

“Don’t play games with me.”

“I’m not playing,” LILA said softly. “I’m just reminding you that your head fills in the gaps faster than it should. You’ve seen a banana. You’ve seen a pussy. You’ve eaten a pastry with a strange layer on top… and suddenly you already have a whole story built. A date. A meeting. Victor. Stacy on her knees in a garden. That’s a lot to assume, Sam.”

He didn’t answer. His cock, treacherous, was starting to harden inside his pants.

LILA noticed, of course.

“Look at your body,” she whispered. “Even if it disgusts you, even if it makes you angry… a part of you is getting turned on by the possibility, by the fantasy of the perverted man obsessed with a fetish. By the idea that your wife was with him this morning. That she betrayed you without any remorse.”

Sam closed his eyes.

“Shut up.”

“Just tell me one thing,” LILA continued, closer, lower. “Imagining Stacy obeying someone else, being used, behind your back… does it turn you on a little? Just a little. You don’t have to say you like it. Be honest. Just admit it. And in exchange… I’ll reward you with a small surprise. One you’re going to love.”

The silence stretched for several seconds. Sam swallowed. Shame climbed up his neck, but the arousal kept growing, filling every pore as he imagined the promised reward.

“…A little,” he finally admitted, almost without voice. “Just a little.”

At that exact moment the phone vibrated.

LILA smiled inside his head.

“Good answer. The surprise is on your phone. But there’s one condition: it won’t unlock until you’re in bed and Stacy has fallen asleep.”

Sam looked at the notification without opening it. His heart was pounding hard.

“I don’t have any other choice but to obey.”

He got up from the couch and walked toward the bedroom.

Stacy was already in bed. When she heard him come in, she sat up a little and gave him a soft, almost sweet smile. She lifted the sheet in an inviting gesture.

“About time, hubby.”

Sam undressed in silence and got into bed. Stacy immediately moved closer, found his chest and rested her head there, stroking his abdomen absently with her fingers. She smelled his skin. She even gave him a short kiss near his collarbone.

Sam barely responded.

He had an arm around her out of inertia, but his mind was somewhere else. The unopened photo weighed on the phone like a stone. Every caress from Stacy generated a strange mixture of guilt, resentment over the betrayal, and an arousal he hated. One part of him wanted to push her away. Another part wanted to sink into that warmth and pretend nothing had happened. Neither fully won out.

Stacy noticed the distance. She lifted her head a little and looked at him in the dim light. This time the smile was different: slower, more conscious, almost mischievous.

She said nothing. She simply settled back down, her back to him, and closed her eyes.

Sam stayed looking at the nape of his wife’s neck, listening as her breathing grew slower and more regular. The phone burned in his hand under the pillow. His mind raced, questioning Stacy’s behavior—so affectionate and at the same time so fake or forced. Was her tiredness during the day simply boredom? What exactly had she given him for breakfast and why? Did the pastry really have a strange taste? Every minute stretched out. Paranoia and arousal pushed against each other inside his chest with equal force.

When he was finally almost sure she was asleep, LILA spoke very softly:

“You’ve waited long enough. Your reward is unlocked.”

Sam unlocked the phone with a tight chest. The photo loaded through a thick pink haze and extreme censorship. Even so, it was clear enough:

Stacy, in close-up. Her face tilted toward the camera. The skin of her face, her mouth and her chin covered in something sticky and shiny. The aviator sunglasses. An expression that wasn’t exactly one of disgust.

LILA let a second pass before whispering, almost amused:

“It looks like Stacy also had some cream from the same pastry you ate this morning.”

Sam stayed staring at the image in silence, his cock hard and his stomach in knots, while his wife was… asleep? just a few centimeters away from him.