I always thought that our marriage was a fortress. Anna and I got married seven years ago. She is the image of an ideal wife. Anna is a slender brunette with brown eyes, long legs and beautiful third-size tits. I`m a modest engineer in an IT company, and she is a manager in a large import company. «The boss is strict, but fair!» she said returning home with a bottle of wine and a tired but satisfied look.
But everything changed that evening when I decided to pick her up from a corporate party. It was late. I parked at the entrance to the hotel where the banquet was taking place. Anna was the last to leave, and next to her was her boss Marcus. A tall, muscular African American.
He was wearing an expensive suit that hugged his athletic body. He hugged her around the waist. And it was too intimate and tight. He whispered something in my wife’s ear. And she laughed. I froze in the car, my heart pounding like a drum.
At home, she said she’d had too much to drink, and we went to bed. But sleep wouldn’t come to me. The next day, I took her phone while she was in the shower. I knew her password. It was our wedding date.
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