I Saw Your Wife At The Orgy

My wife and I were at the farmer’s market, having a wonderful morning. Our relationship had been on the rocks, but things were finally settling down. No more fighting, no more late nights, no more trust issues. Her short hair glimmered in the morning sun, and I admired her beauty as she perused the fruits and vegetables on display. She was gorgeous, her perky tits pressing against her thin white t-shirt. She hadn’t put on a bra this morning. Men stared, but I didn’t mind showing off her sexy body a bit. It only made my dick harder. You can look, but you can't touch.

I felt someone bump up against me. I looked to my right and saw a stocky, muscular guy nudging me, trying to look at the table in front of me.

“Rude,” I thought to myself. But I was in too good of a mood to be really bothered.

He nudged me again.

“Hey.” I stared at him, annoyed.

He nodded down towards the table, where a folded up piece of paper rested. I looked back at him, nonplussed.

“Take it,” he whispered through gritted teeth. He scurried away before I could say anything else.

I scoffed, unsure of what just happened. I glanced over at my wife, still turning over avocados in her hand. Curious, I reached down to the folded paper and opened it up.

“I saw your wife at the orgy.”

I blinked and reread the sentence on the note. No signature, no elaboration. Just: “I saw your wife at the orgy.”

I turned in the direction of the man, who was busying himself with something his own woman was showing him. He cast a glance in my direction, and it was with that little glance I knew: He was telling the truth.