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MidReal Story
My Wife Is A Slut
Scenario:cuckold story
Create my version of this story
Arthur
male. He is a devoted husband and father. He is patient,loving,and humble. He struggles with feelings of inadequacy after discovering his wife's past online,where she encounters a rival for his attention. Despite this,he chooses not to confront her about it,focusing instead on being a good husband and father. He is determined to maintain his family's happiness despite the challenges.
Alex
female. She is a coworker of Arthur and a confidante. She is perceptive,candid,and supportive. She notices the dynamics between Arthur's family members and offers advice when needed. Alex provides comfort through her genuine concern for Arthur's wellbeing amidst his challenges with Lana's online activities.
Ben
male. He is a coworker of Arthur and a close friend. He is witty,supportive,and blunt. He often shares stories that amaze Arthur with their humor and complexity. Ben provides levity in Arthur's life and offers a sounding board for Arthur's concerns,helping him navigate situations with humor and insight.
I was married to a wonderful woman.
My wife, Lana, was the kindest, most caring, and sweetest person I had ever met in my life.
She was also very discreet and secretive.
I didn’t know about this last trait of hers until half a year after our wedding.
One evening, when I came home from work, I saw my wife typing away on her laptop with a look of deep concentration on her face.
As soon as she heard me approach, she immediately closed the laptop and smiled at me.
"Hey, dear," she said, her voice full of warmth.
"How was your day?"
"My day was fine," I replied, feeling a little puzzled by her behavior.
"Can I see what you were doing on your laptop?"
I asked her.
"Oh, nothing important," she replied, her voice still full of warmth.
She got up from the sofa and kissed me on the cheek.
"I am going to the kitchen to prepare dinner," she said.
As she walked away from me, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of curiosity about what she was doing on her laptop.
I walked over to the sofa and sat down on it.
I picked up her laptop and opened it.
I was shocked to see a chat window pop up on the screen.
A man with the username ‘Hunk23’ was sending flirtatious messages to my wife, who had the username ‘SweetLana’.
I sit at the dining table, watching Lana serve our favorite pasta dish.
The steam rises from the plate as she hums softly, moving around the kitchen with practiced ease.
My hands tremble slightly as I grip my fork, the memory of those messages burning in my mind.
Lana sits across from me, chatting about her day at work, while I force myself to take small bites.
The food tastes like cardboard in my mouth.
She notices my unusual quietness and asks if everything's okay.
"Lana, who is 'Hunk23'?" I blurt out, unable to hold back any longer.
Her hand freezes mid-air, the serving spoon hovering over her plate, and she glances up with wide eyes.
"He's... he's just a friend from an old writing group," she stammers, her voice suddenly lacking its usual warmth.
I lead Lana to the living room couch, my hands still trembling slightly as I sit beside her.
The distance between us feels like an ocean despite our physical proximity.
She fidgets with her wedding ring, a habit I've noticed when she's nervous.
I take a deep breath and ask her about the writing group, keeping my voice steady despite the churning in my stomach.
Lana's eyes dart around the room before settling on the floor.
She begins explaining how she joined the group six months ago, seeking feedback on her short stories.
Her voice catches when she mentions Hunk23's frequent critiques of her work.
"Did you ever meet him in person?" I ask, trying to keep my tone neutral.
"No, never," she replies quickly, her eyes finally meeting mine, filled with a mix of fear and sincerity.
"But why didn't you tell me about the group?" I press gently, hoping for honesty.
She leans back, her shoulders sagging, and admits that she wanted to keep it separate from our life together.
"It's just a hobby," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I didn't want you to think I was wasting my time."
I reach out and take her hand, feeling the familiar warmth of her skin.
"Listen, Lana," I say softly.
"I don't care about your hobbies.
I care about us.
But you have to understand that keeping secrets can hurt.
" She nods slowly, her eyes filling with tears.
"I'm sorry," she whispers.
"I promise I'll be more open from now on."
I pull her into a gentle hug, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty.
As we embrace, I realize that trust is fragile and easily broken, but it can also be mended with effort and honesty.
Alex hovers near my office door, holding out a steaming cup of coffee for me.
I take it gratefully, inhaling the rich aroma as she steps inside and closes the door behind her.
She takes a seat in the chair opposite my desk, a knowing look on her face as she glances at the computer screen. "So, what do you think?" she asks, referring to the writing convention flyer displayed on my monitor.
I lean back in my chair, taking a sip of the coffee while considering her question.
"I'm not sure," I admit honestly.
"It could be a good opportunity for Lana to meet other writers and share her passion. But at the same time, I'm still not entirely comfortable with this whole online writing group thing."
Alex nods understandingly.
"I get it," she says gently.
"But sometimes you have to take risks and trust that everything will work out. Besides, this convention could be a fresh start for both of you. A chance to share something new together."
I consider her words for a moment before nodding slowly.
"You're right," I say finally, determination rising within me.
"Let's do this."
With renewed energy, I turn my attention back to the computer screen and begin scrolling through the details of the convention.
The event promises an exciting lineup of workshops, networking sessions, and author panels.
My cursor hovers over the registration button as I imagine Lana's face lighting up when I surprise her with the tickets. The convention is scheduled for three days from now, which gives me just enough time to finalize the arrangements and present them to Lana over dinner tonight.
During lunch break, I dial Ben's number while Alex sits across from me in the break room, picking at her salad.
Ben answers with his usual upbeat tone, and I put him on speaker so Alex can join the conversation.
"Hey, guys," he greets us.
"What's up?"
I fill Ben in on Lana's situation with the writing group and her mysterious online interactions with Hunk23.
Ben listens attentively, his usual chatty self falling uncharacteristically quiet as I recount the details.
When I finish, there's a moment of silence before Ben speaks up again.
"I think I know something about this," he admits hesitantly.
"I've seen that username 'SweetLana' in other online forums."
Alex leans forward, her fork frozen mid-air as she looks at me with wide eyes.
"Really?" she asks Ben.
"Where?"
There's another pause before Ben responds, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
"In some dating sites. About six months ago."
My heart sinks as I process Ben's words.
"Dating sites?"
I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah," Ben confirms.
"I was doing some research for a project and stumbled upon her profile. It seemed like she was actively looking for meetups."
Alex reaches across the table and squeezes my hand reassuringly as I sit there in stunned silence. "I'm sorry," Ben continues, his voice filled with genuine regret.
"I didn't know it was your Lana. If I had, I would have told you sooner."
"It's not your fault," I manage to say, trying to keep my emotions in check.
"Thanks for telling me now."
We spend the next few minutes discussing what this revelation could mean for Lana and me.
Alex suggests that maybe Lana was just curious about online dating but never actually went through with meeting anyone in person.
Ben agrees, but also warns that it's possible she might have been more involved than we initially thought.
As we finish our lunch and head back to work, my mind is filled with questions and doubts about our relationship.