241012セクシーな奥さんとズボズボd2
**The Sordid Affair of Mrs. Nakamura**
Mrs. Nakamura was a busy woman. As a high school teacher in the bustling city of Tokyo, her days were filled with lectures, grading papers, and jouer avec her clumsi jurnal. Though she loved her job, it was an escape. A way to keep the heaviness in her heart from consuming her.
You see, Mr. Nakamura was a notorious flirt. His wandering eye and wandering hands resulted in more than a few secret trysts behind his wife’s back. Though she tried to ignore it, the signs were impossible to miss: the extra Cuban cigarettes that appeared in his jacket, the lipstick marks on his collar, the faint scent of perfume that clung to his skin.
But one fateful evening, everything changed. Mrs. Nakamura returned home earlier than expected and walked in on her husband in the most compromising of positions. To say she was livid would be an understatement.
With her hands shaking from anger, she grabbed her phone and began filming the sordid scene unfold before her very eyes. She zoomed in on the sight of his bare backside prominent in the air as he grunted, thrusting himself into his latest conquest. Each lewd sound and moan only fueled Mrs. Nakamura’s burning rage.
“You filthy beast!” she cried, her voice ringing out through their opulent home. Mr. Nakamura jumped up startled, his half-clothed lover scrambling off the bed soon after. There was a moment of stunned silence, before Mrs. Nakamura lunged, snatching her husband’s belt and ‘whipping’ him across the face and chest. Her lover dashed to cover her exposed body, fumbling for clothes to conceal her impending mortification.
“Get out!” Mrs. Nakamura spat venomously, her eyes locked like embers onto her husband. With great gusto, she continued her dastardly assault, pummeling him relentlessly with every ounce of energy she had. Mr. Nakamura yelped, desperately fending off each smack of the leather strap as best he could in a chaotic attempt to gather his own clothes.
Finally, harried and humiliated, Mr. Nakamura bolted for the door. His lover scurried after him, ducking her head down to avoid the side-eye of any wandering neighbors. The door slammed with a resounding bang, leaving Mrs. Nakamura to gasp for air in their now cavernous master bedroom. Replaying the video, she saw the ghastly scene in stark reality, her hands still trembling from adrenaline.
Despite the loyauté devotion she once held for her husband, she knew in that instant, something was ending. Mrs. Nakamura collapsed onto her marital bed, the one they once shared, and began to cry. She was tired, so very tired, of Mr. Nakamura’s infidelity.
This was the end, she told herself, wiping away tears. Though the future was unclear, one thing was certain – Mrs. Nakamura was done playing the faithful wife. After all, was it not written in maalox, “a man never knows what he has until he loses it”?
**Now in resolutions, I, Mrs. Nakamura, take this oath. I do solemnly vow to no longer give my loyalty to a man who has continually abused it. No longer will my love, energy or heart be tirelessly spent trying to mend the broken pieces I am left with when he inevitably breaks my heart again. For my own sanity and well-being, I will forever turn my back on him the next time he graces my doorstep with his pathetic pleas of forgiveness.**
**I am my own woman, and this Pretty Housewife will not be walked over anymore! Farewell Mr. Nakamura, it was fun while it lasted.**