This was probably something I was never meant to see, not to mention hear, but when I came home early with flowers in my hand like the romantic dumbass that I certainly am, with the full intent on surprising her for our tenth wedding anniversary, it was me who ended up being the most surprised.

"Mmmm... Oh, god. Oh, fuck. Mmmmm," were the sounds that greeted me as I opened the door and stepped in.

For a second I thought I was about to catch my wife watching porn with her vibrator buried between her legs.

I felt myself smile but it was fleeting because when the next series of moans of what sounded like intense pleasure started I realized those were the sounds of her moans. I hadn't heard them like that in years now.

I crept up the stairs slowly. Not that it would have mattered. No one could have heard anything over the sounds of her orgasmic bliss. The whole world could be ending and you wouldn't know. 

The moans continued to grow even louder and more intense. It was clear she was having wave after wave of orgasm. Something I hadn't seemed to be able to give her in so long.

Jealousy swept through me. Some lucky fucker was up there right now ramming his cock in and out of my wife's cunt while I was supposed to be at work.

How often did this happen? How long had it been happening? Days...weeks...months? Maybe even years? Was this why she stopped doing anything with me? 

My mind struggled with the possibilities. My heart was pounding in my chest and felt like it could explode any minute.

After what felt like a lifetime I finally found myself standing outside the bedroom door. I started to put my hand on the doorknob but something stopped me. Curiosity? Maybe. I don't know.

I heard my wife's lust-filled voice which instantly caused me to harden despite the circumstances. It's funny how much her voice changes when she's turned on. It goes from innocent and sweet to sultry and seductive.

"Oh, god... Oh, fuck, baby. Your tongue feels so fucking good."

And then another voice spoke, one that surprised me even more than the fact that my wife was cheating.

"Better than your husband's?" she asked in a voice equally filled with lust and tinged with absolute desire.

"So much better," came the moany response.

"I guess he didn't inherit his skill from me," I heard my mom reply before I quickly ran down the stairs and slammed the front door.