Was it a dream?

The rain beat a steady, gray rhythm against the bedroom window, matching the dreary mood of the morning as Kalvin’s alarm buzzed at 6:00 AM. He rolled over, his mind instantly flashing back to the surreal haze of 2:13 AM. Nikki was already downstairs, the comforting smell of coffee and sizzling bacon drifting up the steps.

When Kalvin padded into the kitchen in his socks, Nikki was standing at the stove, flipping eggs. She wore a loose oversized t-shirt, her blonde hair pulled back in a messy clip, humming softly to herself as if the frantic, cum-filled midnight encounter had never happened.

"Morning, honey," she said brightly, glancing over her shoulder and offering a warm smile that crinkled the corners of her blue eyes.

Kalvin sat down at the small wooden table, staring at her for a long moment. "Morning. Uh... Nikki, about last night..."

She turned off the burner, plating the food and setting it in front of him before leaning down to press a soft kiss against his cheek. "What about last night, sweetie?" she asked, her tone entirely innocent, though a playful glint danced in her gaze.

"You came home super late. You were... well, you know." He felt his face grow hot.

Nikki let out a light, musical laugh, sliding into the chair across from him. "Kalvin, you must have been dreaming. I came home at a reasonable hour, went straight to bed, and slept like a rock. You need to stop working so much; your imagination is running wild."

He blinked, too bewildered to push the subject further. He ate in silence, the taste of the eggs suddenly secondary to the swirling confusion in his head.

The workday at the office was a blur of spreadsheets and client emails, heavy with the gloom of the dark, wet weather outside. Around noon, Marcus stopped by his desk, looking impeccably sharp in a new blue suit despite the dampness outside. They headed down to the company cafeteria for their usual lunch banter.

As they sat down with their sandwiches, Marcus flashed his signature white-toothed grin. "Rough weather out there today, man. How are things on the home front? How’s Nikki?"

Kalvin swallowed a bite of his turkey club, feeling a familiar, twitchy pang of discomfort mixed with illicit excitement. "She’s good. A little tired today, actually. Out late with some friends."

Marcus chuckled, taking a sip of his black coffee. "Can't blame her. If I had a gorgeous woman like Nikki at home, I’d probably take her out every night of the week."

It was the same kind of teasing, sexually charged comment Marcus always made, meant in harmless fun, but today it struck Kalvin differently. He forced a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well. Speaking of being out late... I tried calling you last night around ten. Thought maybe you wanted to grab a beer."

Marcus raised an eyebrow, a knowing, amused smile spreading across his handsome face. "Ah, yeah. Bad timing, Kal. I was tied up. Spent the evening with a woman."

"Oh," Kalvin said, his cheeks warming. "Right. Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

"No worries at all, my friend," Marcus said smoothly, his dark eyes twinkling with mirth. "Let's definitely grab that drink later this week, though."

By the time Kalvin drove home through the evening drizzle, the exhaustion of the day weighed heavily on his shoulders. But the moment he walked through the front door, the rich aroma of a homemade lasagna hit him. Nikki had dinner waiting on the table, and she had put on a romantic comedy for them to watch on the couch afterward.

As the credits rolled, Kalvin felt a surge of residual horniness from the morning. He shifted closer to her on the couch, sliding a hand up her thigh, his tiny pinky-finger of a dick instantly hardening in his jeans.

Nikki gently caught his wrist, stopping him with an apologetic wince. "Oh, Kalvin, not tonight, babe. I’m so sore."

He paused, frowning. "Sore? From what?"

She offered a small, mysterious smile, looking away for a split second. "Um... Dancing, remember? Went out with some friends. My legs and lower body are just completely wiped out."

Kalvin didn't press it. He remembered the heavy, stretched feel of her pussy from the night before, and a strange thrill shot through him at the thought of her out, wearing herself out. He pulled his hand back.

Nikki noticed the distinct bulge in his pants and let out a teasing giggle, tracing a finger down his chest. "Maybe tomorrow."

They spent the rest of the evening cuddling on the couch, the ambient glow of the television painting them in flickering light until Nikki’s breathing slowed and she drifted off to sleep against his shoulder.

Careful not to wake her, Kalvin gently lifted her head, placed a pillow beneath it, and slipped away to the dark hallway. He retreated to the guest room, pulling out his phone. His heart hammered a fast, illicit rhythm. He needed to see her. His new favorite porn star.

He opened his browser, navigating directly to the profile of the masked creator whose body, down to the enormous natural breasts, large pink areolas, and perpetual hard nipples—was an exact replica of Nikki's.

His breath hitched when he saw the notification. New video posted at 1:30 AM last night.

His hands shook slightly as he tapped play.

The video opened in a dimly lit, upscale hotel room. The woman wearing the black lace mask was sucking off a massive, thick black cock with practiced, ravenous greed. Then, the camera angle shifted, and she was being roughly and deeply fucked by a room full of well-hung black men, her muffled, desperate moans filling the room.

Kalvin’s breath came in ragged gasps as he stared at the screen. The way she moved, the way her hips bucked, the overwhelming lust radiating from her—it was mesmerizing. Suddenly, during a violent shift in position, one of the men grabbed the woman's head, and her black wig slipped loose, falling to the mattress.

Beneath it was a head of shoulder-length blonde hair.

Kalvin’s blood ran cold and hot all at once. The hair color was an exact match to Nikki's. And the sounds—though she was making filthy, degraded noises and screaming out dirty things in a desperate frenzy that Nikki would never, in a million years, utter in real life—the cadence of her voice, the breathless gasps, were very familiar.

As the video neared its climax, the camera zoomed in close. One of the men pulled out of her gaping pussy, slapping her bare, round bubble butt, and growled directly into the microphone. "Keep your legs closed, slut. Keep all this cum locked inside you, and make your husband clean you out."

That final command shattered the last remaining barrier in Kalvin’s mind. A strangled gasp escaped his throat, and right there in the dark, silent guest room, his tiny, pathetic cock spasmed, spurting out a hot, sad drop of cum into his underwear.

He slumped back against the pillows, chest heaving, his mind swirling with a toxic, intoxicating cocktail of dirty thoughts and impossible fantasies. With his skin still prickling with heat and the echoes of the video ringing in his ears, Kalvin crept back into the master bedroom, slipping under the covers beside his sleeping wife, and finally drifted off to sleep.