The climax

"What have I done"

Graham stared at the image of his wife, naked and the money she had earned from her body, he had made her do this and the guilt ripped through him, He needed to be there in Glasgow he needed to hold her and say that he was sorry and fix things, he knew that was impossible in Canada so booked the first flight he could to the Scotland, Lucky enough it was soon and he would make it however it would cost him, he had been saving for a new PC it was a state of the art and he was almost at the target but this was more important this was his life.

Hours later Graham stood outside her flat, stomach twisting, eyes burning from the overnight flight. His hand shook as he knocked.

The door opened.

Tammy blinked at him, hair messy from sleep, robe hanging loose, nothing under it.

“Graham?” Her voice was sharp, tired.

He swallowed. “Yeah. It’s me.”

For a second she just stared. Then she pulled the robe tighter and stepped back. “Get in.”

The second the door shut behind him, the words spilled out.

“It was me. The emails. The messages. The orders. All of it. I—fuck, Tammy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

She lifted a hand. Stopped him cold. Then, with a slow pull, let the robe fall from her shoulders.

Her body hit him like a punch.

Shaved bare, the devil ink glaring just above her mound, piercings glinting on nipples and clit. Her skin flushed, marked from what she’d done. The woman he’d married—but harder, filthier.

“You enjoyed it?” she asked flatly.

He couldn’t answer. His cock answered for him, swelling, straining against his jeans.

She smirked. “Strip.”

His throat dried. He fumbled, pulled clothes off, until he was naked, cock jutting hard in the cool air. He sat because she made him sit. Exposed.

Her voice was low, even. “You made me unbutton in the office. Sit there, half naked, fingering myself while people walked by. Do you remember that?”

“Yes,” he whispered. His hand twitched toward his lap.

She kept going, her eyes never leaving his. “You told me to run into the street. Naked. To the lamppost. Everyone watching. Yelling. My tits bouncing, my pussy out for strangers. You liked that, didn’t you?”

He groaned, hand wrapping around his cock now, stroking without meaning to.

She leaned back on the couch, spread her legs, fingers sliding between them. Her breath hitched, but her tone stayed sharp.

“Then you sent me to that tattooist. You thought it was classy, didn’t you? Some pin-up bitch with perfect tits? No. It was a sleazy old man with rotten teeth. He shaved me bare, rubbed me, marked me. And I let him. For you.”

Graham’s face twisted—guilt and lust tearing him apart. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Shut up. You’re going to listen.”

Her fingers worked faster, wet sounds filling the room. Her eyes glittered.

“Then the piercings. Do you know what it’s like, having a stranger pinch your nipples, rub your clit, laugh while he made me wet just to put steel through me? People outside staring. He touched me. He filmed me. And I took it.”

His chest heaved. His strokes were frantic now, precum slicking his hand.

“And the pub,” she hissed. “That dive full of old men. You told me not to say no. I didn’t. Do you know what it’s like to have a stranger’s cock in your mouth, tasting beer, piss and sweat? To bend over a broken table, dripping, while another stranger fucks you raw? To feel cum dripping out of me while the next one lined up?”

He choked, head falling back, eyes squeezed shut. “Tammy, please—”

“Don’t beg,” she cut in, voice shaking as her body tensed under her own hand. “You made me into this. And do you know the truth?”

Her eyes locked on his, blazing. “It’s the most turned on I’ve ever been.”

That broke him. His hips jerked, cum spilling across his stomach, hand working desperately, moans tearing out of him.

Tammy gasped, fingers pressing hard to her clit as her thighs clenched, wet heat pulsing under her hand.

They sat there, panting, both wrecked, the air stinking of sweat and sex.

Tammy smiled. Slow. Dangerous.

“This isn’t the end, Graham. This is the start. If you want me to forgive you… you’ll have to take me further. Much further.”

He nodded weakly, still shaking, still leaking.

She leaned back, robe forgotten, body glistening, satisfied.

Her smile widened. “Good. Because now I know exactly what I am.”