Yes, another video

The next video arrived several minutes later.

Same number. Sound on.

You pressed play.

The camera showed a group of Brian’s friends standing in a loose cluster in what looked like the kitchen doorway or the edge of the living room, drinks in hand. The framing stayed on them—shirts, faces, the casual posture of people taking a break from whatever was happening deeper in the house. They talked over one another in the easy, half-laughing way of men who had been drinking for hours.

In the background, underneath their conversation, were the sounds you recognised immediately.

The same wet, rhythmic noises you had heard while trapped in the kitchen earlier that night. The same rising, broken moans. The same creak of furniture under steady movement. Katie’s voice—high, breathless, and unmistakably pleading—cut through at intervals, though the words themselves were muffled by distance and the louder talk in the foreground.

One of the friends took a sip of his beer and shook his head with a grin.

“She’s relentless, man. Keeps asking for more. Every single time.”

Another laughed. “Desperate doesn’t even cover it. She’s been begging him for the last twenty minutes straight.”

“Needy as hell,” a third added. “Doesn’t matter what he gives her, she’s straight back to asking. ‘Please, more—’ over and over.”

“She must have been staved of it”

They never said more of what.

They never named what she was begging for.

They just kept talking in the same loose, amused circle—commenting on how desperate she sounded, how she wouldn’t stop asking, how Brian must have the patience of a saint—while in the background the wet rhythm and Katie’s muffled, pleading moans continued without pause.

The video ended on one of them raising his can in a mock toast toward the unseen living room, the sounds of your wife still clearly audible behind him.

You sat in the quiet of your own house, the familiar background noise of Katie and Brian alone together now paired with the casual commentary of the men who had left your poker table hours earlier, still never quite spelling out the thing you already knew.