Tom and his cheating wife, Samantha

"Okay, I'm gonna go"

Samantha, Tom's wife, yells out from the bedroom mirror as she applies some last minute make up on her face.

"Are you sure you want to go? We could grab dinner at this new place that just opened"

Tom responded from the living room couch, a tub of ice cream on his lap as he browsed and perused the different shows airing on tv.

"Tom, I told you, Friday is when I hang out with the girls"

Samantha says as she enters the living room, her eyes searching for her car keys.

"And besides, literally anything is better than a Friday night with you"

Samantha mutters under her breathe with a clear distasteful tone, leaving Tom clenching his teeth as he does his absolute best to pretend he didn't hear it.

"Argh, have you seen my car keys?"

Samantha asks as she desperately turns the living room upside down trying to find it.

"Nope"

Tom replies, clearly uninterested as his gaze doesn't linger from the screen of the TV.

"What's the point of having a nice car if I can't drive it?"

She complains as she checks every crevice and spot in the house, all to no avail.

"Fine, whatever, I'll get a cab"

Samantha grumbles as she struggles to wear her high-heeled shoes, unbeknownst to her, her husband eyedd her curiously.

Samantha was wearing a sexy white backless dress that curved perfectly with her bubbly, bouncy ass which also left her entire back completely exposed for any dude to see.

On top of that, the dress showed off more than a hint of Samantha's side breasts.

After a solid minute of struggling, Samantha was finally about to leave before Tom said something, something that made her skin jump just a little.

"Hey, Where's your ring?"

Samantha stood frozen, as if someone dropped her in a pool of ice water.

She slowly turned around towards Tom, who was still staring at the TV.

"Oops, must have slipped off when I was searching for the keys"

Samantha quickly covered herself as she grabbed the 16 karat gold from a coffee table, sliding it back on finger.

"Well, okay, I might be out for a while, so don't stay up.... not like you have anything to stay up for"

Samantha grumbles at the last part as she swings the door open, rushing to the street in an attempt to hail a fleeing cab.

Once Tom was sure Samantha was gone, he jumped off the couch and immediately head to the shower, letting the cold water brush his skin.

Afterwards, he went to the bedroom, putting on the nicest, sharpest and most dashing suit he had.

With a few strokes of the comb, Tom looked like a picture perfect model for a fashion cover magazine.

Soon enough, Tom grabbed his wife's car keys, the one he hid underneath his tub of ice cream, and slid into Samantha's favourite sports car.

The engine roars to life easily as Tom drives from the garage and into his next destination, craving a salty-sweet combo of for dinner.