Chapter 1: Guy at the Gym
The gym was a symphony of clanking metal and the steady thump of bass-heavy music, a soundtrack to the sweaty ballet of grunts and groans.
Caroline, my wife, loved the rhythm of it all; the way the pounding beats matched her heart as she pushed herself to the limit. She was in her zone, her body moving with the fluid grace of someone who knew their way around the weights and machines.
Her curls bounced in a long ponytail, whipping back and forth as she squatted, her muscles burning. She wiped sweat from her forehead as she finished another set. She had always been the more fit of the pair of us; long legs, ass that I always thought was amazing, and a slim stomach. Though she was tall and slender, Caroline still had an amazing rack and was so beautiful.
I watched her from my treadmill. I'd always been a runner and it was my favorite form of exercise. I knew it'd never get me as fit as her, but I liked it. I could zone out for forty-five minutes and work up a good sweat.
Today, though, was different. I couldn't stop staring at Caroline and replaying what had happened last week in my mind; a different time my wife got all hot and sweaty—
—with another guy.
Last week, she had sex with a coworker while I watched through cameras. It'd been my idea. A twisted, fucked-up fantasy that I'd harbored for years, but never thought I'd actually see come to life. And now, here we were, on the other side of something I never thought I'd have the balls to do.
And I couldn't stop looking at my beautiful wife.
After sharing Carolinr with Justin, I'd been obsessed with her. We'd had sex multiple times this week. I couldn't get enough of her. She drove me wild. I was thinking about her constantly.
Caroline finished her set and turned to the water fountain, her tank top clinging to her with sweat. I couldn't take my eyes off her, and neither, it seemed, could the guy who'd just walked up to her.
He was tall, a good six inches taller than me, with muscles that looked like they'd been carved from stone. I'd seen him around and knew his name —Mason— but I'd never talked to him. He was part of a group of gym rats that hung around all day. The guy was built from all his time here.
His hair was dark, cropped short, and he had a smirk that said he knew he was attractive, and he didn't give a damn what anyone thought about it.
They weren't more than two treadmills away, so I could hear them.
"You know, you're fucking gorgeous when you sweat," he said, his voice low and rough. He leaned in close, like he was going to whisper something in her ear, and Caroline jerked back, her eyes wide.
"Um... excuse me?" she said, taken aback by his sudden boldness.
I watched as she took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest, a clear sign of discomfort.
Mason grinned, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it. You look hot as hell."
"Well, maybe you should keep your observations to yourself," she retorted, her cheeks flushing pink with a mix of anger and embarrassment.
I couldn't help but smile, my heart pounding in my chest as I watched my wife handle this guy. She was my girl, and no one talked to her like that.
But at the same time, the crude way Mason was approaching her was... exciting.
It was like watching a lion circling its prey, and I found myself leaning forward, eager to see how she would react next.
"It's not your place to call me 'hot,'" Caroline shot back, her voice firm. "I'm married, if you haven't noticed. I don't appreciate being objectified like some piece of meat."
Mason chuckled, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. "Married, huh? Lucky guy. But come on, don't act like you don't like the attention." He winked at her, and I could see the muscle in Caroline's jaw tense.