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MidReal Story
My Wife's Forbidden Desire
Scenario:I want to see my innocent and sexy wife seduced by a stranger
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Kane Thompson
He is a husband and new father. He is curious, innocent, and romantic. Kane discovers his wife's fantasies through a mysterious letter and becomes infatuated with the idea of fulfilling them. He imagines his wife being seduced by another man and is conflicted about his feelings. Despite being married, he is drawn to the idea of exploring his wife's hidden desires, and he is determined to uncover more about her fantasies.
Julia
She is Kane's wife and a mother to a newborn. She is secretive, alluring, and reserved. She writes an anonymous letter listing her hidden desires to her husband Kane. The letter reveals her fascination with another man and her longing for intimacy with him. Julia's mysterious letter sparks Kane's curiosity and imagination, leading him to wonder about her fantasies and their marriage. Her reserved nature contrasts with the openness implied in the letter.
I stared at the letter, my heart pounding out a rhythm that had nothing to do with the bass thumping through the speakers in the small bar where I’d found it.
It was anonymous, that much was clear, but it was for me—I knew that much, too.
The handwriting wasn’t familiar, but the words… they touched places inside me that I didn’t think anyone else knew about.
My wife, Julia, was the only one who called me by that name, and she only pulled it out for special occasions.
This letter-writer knew that, too.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I unfolded the single sheet of paper and read the words that would change everything.
Dear Kieran,
I don’t know why I’m writing this.
Maybe I’ll never send it.
Maybe I’ll never have the courage.
I’ve been watching you for a long time now.
Not in a creepy way, I promise.
I just… find you very alluring.
I don’t think you know how many women look at you and wish they were in their shoes.
I know it sounds silly, but I can’t help but feel like there’s something missing in my life.
When I see you with your wife, I feel a pang of jealousy that I’ve never felt before.
I want to be her.
I nurse my drink, watching as the condensation beads on the glass and rolls down to pool on the bar top.
The crowd is filtering in now, the after-work regulars coming in to grab a quick drink before they head home to their families.
The sounds of their conversations are a distant hum, a background noise that I tune out as I read the letter again.
It’s 6:45 PM, according to the clock on my phone.
Julia will be putting the baby down now, following her strict routine of bath time and bedtime stories.
I signal the bartender for my check, knowing that I need to get home before I lose my nerve.
The letter feels heavy in my pocket as I pay and gather my things.
Outside, the cooling evening air helps clear my head.
I realize I can't ignore this any longer.
The drive home feels like it takes forever, the streetlights blurring past my windshield as I grip the steering wheel tightly.
The letter burns a hole in my jacket pocket, and at each red light, my hand instinctively reaches down to touch it, to make sure it’s still there.
Finally, I see the familiar streets of our suburban neighborhood come into view.
I pull into our driveway and kill the engine.
Through the living room window, I can see Julia’s silhouette moving past, probably having just put the baby down.
My throat tightens as I pull the letter out one last time and scan the words that I’ve already memorized.
I grip the steering wheel tighter, watching as Julia’s shadow moves behind the curtains.
She pauses near the window, and I duck down a little in my seat, not wanting to be seen.
It feels strange to be sitting outside my own house, like an intruder.
The letter crinkles in my pocket as I shift in the driver’s seat.
My phone reads 7:15 PM.
I’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes already.
A neighbor walks their dog past my car, giving me a curious glance as they pass.
I pretend to check something on my phone until they’re out of sight.
Julia’s shadow disappears from view, and a few seconds later, I hear the sound of our garage door opening.
She must be taking out the trash.
I take a deep breath, knowing it's time to face the truth.
My legs feel unsteady as I push open the car door, gripping the letter so tightly that it crumples even more.
The garage light casts harsh shadows across the concrete as Julia wheels the trash bin toward the curb.
Her back is to me, and she's wearing her usual evening clothes - gray sweatpants and my old college t-shirt.
The baby monitor clipped to her waist crackles with white noise.
I clear my throat, but no words come out.
Julia startles slightly at the sound, turning to face me.
Her eyes meet mine, and I know there's no turning back.