Susan's face flushed a deep, rosy red. She dropped her head, but a small, unashamed smile played on her lips. She didn't deny it. Instead, she looked up through her lashes, her expression a mix of embarrassment and pride.
"He deserves to see what true happiness looks like," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper, yet it carried through the silent room. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she stared at a point on the wall, lost in the memory.
A visible shudder of disgust ran through her. She wrapped her arms around herself as if suddenly cold. "As it is he was into NTR, you know..." she said, the words dripping with a long-held contempt. Her nose wrinkled. "The boner he had that day was so big, he didn't even have half of that length when he was with me."
She let out a short, harsh laugh that held no joy, shaking her head in disbelief at the man she described. "That bastard," she spat, the word sharp and venomous. "He likes seeing his women railed by a true man." Her tone was one of utter revulsion.
Then, her entire demeanor transformed. The tension left her shoulders, and a deep, sensual blush crept up her neck. A genuine, blissful smile spread across her face as she was transported to a different memory.
Her voice grew warmer, dreamier. "And you know the whole time Samuel was fucking my brain out..." she trailed off for a second, a soft, breathy sigh escaping her, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the thought.
She snapped back to the unpleasant part of the story, her expression shifting back to one of stark distaste. "He was openly masturbating to the video." The way she said it made it sound like the most pathetic act she could imagine.
"The next day when I went back home..." she continued, her voice dropping to a horrified whisper, her face paling slightly. "...the place reeked of semen. It was really pungent as if I had entered a garbage disposal car." Her hand came up to cover her nose and mouth as if she could still smell it.
"The whole place." Her eyes widened at the absurd memory. "The bedroom wall was painted white. For a second I started contemplating whether I was in the wrong home," she said, a note of hysterical disbelief in her voice. "I even thought, 'was the wall always white?'"
She paused, letting the grotesque image hang in the air before delivering the punchline with a tone of pure, unadulterated disgust. "Only to later find out it wasn't paint but semen." She shook her head slowly, a fresh wave of repulsion crossing her features. "That bastard had nutted on the wall so much it was painted white."
Her expression then hardened, a flash of old, deep-seated anger in her eyes. "Had he shown the same vigor," she said, her voice low and tight with years of frustration, "or even half of it when he was with me, I wouldn't have needed to do anything like this..."
The anger melted away as quickly as it came, replaced by a look of serene, triumphant satisfaction. She hugged herself again, but this time it was a gesture of pure, selfish joy. A slow, wicked smile spread across her lips, her eyes gleaming.
"...but then again," she purred, her voice dropping to a thrilled, conspiratorial whisper. "I'm glad he did what he did." She let out a contented, happy sigh. "After all, if he hadn't, I wouldn't have gotten Samuel as the man who railed me."
The room was utterly still after Susan's words faded. The graphic, shocking confession hung in the air, so visceral that a few of the women, like Mrs. Kang and Mrs. Shin, both of them looked physically ill, their faces pale and hands pressed to their stomachs.
Mrs. Min's lips were pressed into a thin, disapproving line, her knuckles white as she gripped her knees, a picture of pristine horror.
A collective shudder of disgust ran through the group. Ms. Choi, the corporate realist, looked as if she'd just smelled something foul, her nose wrinkled in distaste. "What a pathetic excuse for a man," she muttered under her breath, the words sharp and clear in the quiet room.
The others nodded almost imperceptibly, their thoughts echoing the sentiment. They were all thinking it: the image Susan painted was not of a virile lover, but of a weak, grotesque boy, a creature of pathetic and revolting impulses.
But then, their eyes—wide with shock and revulsion—drifted from the imaginary figure of the disgusting husband back to Susan. And the second wave of shock hit them, even harder than the first.
This was Susan. Their Susan. The woman they knew from the PTA meetings, the one who always brought the perfect lemon bars to the bake sale, who wore tasteful cashmere sets and never had a hair out of place. The woman who embodied quiet, dignified grace.
Now, she stood before them, her face flushed not with embarrassment but with a kind of fierce, unashamed pride. She had just described the most degrading scene imaginable involving her own husband, and she was smiling. A blissful, sensual, triumphant smile.
Mrs. Lee, who moments before had been fanning herself with excitement, now held her magazine completely still, her mouth slightly agape. She wasn't just shocked by the story; she was stunned by the radical change in the woman she thought she knew. "Susan... I..." she trailed off, unable to find the words.
Ms. Han, usually so casual and laid-back, stared with unabashed curiosity. The disgust for the husband was there, but it was being rapidly overshadowed by a dawning, powerful understanding.
She looked at Susan's transformed face, at the raw happiness radiating from her, and she felt a pang of something deep and yearning. 'She's free,' Han thought, a startlingly clear realization. He did that to her, and she's completely free because of him now.
Ms. Yoon, who missed being touched, found her own hand unconsciously drifting to her neck. She wasn't thinking about the semen-painted wall; she was trapped on Susan's description of Samuel. "...fucking my brain out..."
The words echoed in her mind, and a hot flush that had nothing to do with disgust spread across her chest. She saw the look on Susan's face when she said it, and a deep, aching want bloomed inside her.
Ms. Kwon, the flirty one, didn't even try to hide her reaction. A slow, impressed grin spread across her face. "Damn, girl," she breathed, her voice full of admiration rather than judgment. She saw the liberation, the power in Susan's happiness, and she wanted it. She wanted that exact brand of confident, sexual joy.
Even proud Mrs. Min was shaken. Her initial judgment was still there, a lifetime of propriety screaming internally. But beneath it, a tiny, treacherous voice whispered. 'She is happy. Look how truly, utterly happy she is. When was the last time I felt a fraction of that?'
The revulsion for Susan's husband was universal. But the reaction to Susan herself was a complex tapestry of shock, judgment, and a powerful, envy-green curiosity.
They were all dignified women of society, but in that moment, they were all secretly measuring their own quiet, lonely, frustrating lives against Susan's graphic, messy, and utterly ecstatic freedom.
One by one, their faces softened. The disgust melted into contemplation, then into a shared, silent craving. They didn't just want Samuel. They wanted what Susan had found.
They wanted to feel that same transformative release, to be so thoroughly claimed and cherished that the pathetic "bastards" in their own lives faded into meaningless, distant memories.
Susan wasn't a fallen woman; she was their prophet, and she was preaching a gospel of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
The silence in the room was heavy and thick. The women stood frozen, their minds reeling from Susan's story. It was so much to take in—the shocking vulgarity of her husband, the raw power of her pleasure with Samuel, the complete transformation of the woman they thought they knew.
Esther was the one who finally moved. She stepped forward, her presence a calm anchor in the storm of emotions. She didn't look shocked or disgusted. She knew all about it after all Susan had reported her everything like a good dog telling everything to their master, only difference being here the dog could speak.
"You see?" Esther purred, her voice a low, hypnotic hum that seemed to curl around each of them in the quiet room. Her eyes, dark and knowing, gleamed as they moved from one wide-eyed woman to the next. "Do you finally understand what is being offered here?"
A slow, wicked smile played on her lips as she glided to stand beside Susan, her hand resting possessively on the small of her back.
"This isn't just about finding a better lover," she murmured, her tone intimate and conspiratorial, as if sharing a delicious, forbidden secret. "It's about burning the pathetic little worlds your husbands built for you. It's about tearing down those pretty, boring cages and discovering the raw, glorious creature you are meant to be underneath."
She leaned forward slightly, her gaze intense, pulling them into her confidence.
"Look at her," she whispered, her voice dripping with sensual promise. "Susan didn't just find pleasure. She found a truth. A power so potent it erases every weak, disappointing man who ever touched her." She let the words hang in the air, thick and tempting.
"This is what awaits you. A pleasure so consuming it feels like sin. A devotion so complete it feels like madness." Her voice dropped even lower, a thrilling, dangerous edge to it. "But you must be willing to let go. You must want to be ruined for any other man. You must hunger for it."
She straightened up, her smile turning triumphant and sly.
"You must be willing to surrender everything you are… body, mind, and soul… to the bliss Samuel provides. It is a delicious corruption. And I promise you, once you taste it, you will never, ever want to be pure again." Esther's eyes had turned shiny pink, the mark on her pussy glowed like crazy.
If my story made you smile even once, that's a win for me. That's what I want to live for—brightening dull days and reminding people that joy still exists. My dream is to keep getting better, to someday reach legendary level of storytelling.
If you can support me financially please join my patreon. And if not just adding few words of appreciation and power stones will be enough motivation I need.
Thankyou for choosing my fics to read.