48. Wife's POV [Part 1]

NOTE: This fictional story features only adult characters (18+) and portrays consensual interactions throughout.





Dinner evening already. I stood in front of the cupboard, flipping through my clothes one by one. No, not this one. Not that either. Ugh, I pressed my hand against my forehead, groaning softly. I have nothing to wear. Well, of course, that’s ridiculous, considering the whole cupboard is stuffed with my clothes, but still… none of them feel right tonight.

My eyes drifted down to the lowest shelf. A small box was placed there, little dusted. My brows arched as the memory hit me.
Oh. That box. My hand moved towards it, pulling it out. I knew exactly what was inside, even before I opened the box. A handful of things I had hidden away shyly, too embarrassed to let see the light of day.

And there it was. That dress.

I pulled it out slowly, holding it up in front of me. My lips opened in a quiet breath as old memories resurfaced.

He had given me this with such excitement, eyes shining as though he couldn’t wait to see me in it. And me? I was too shy back then, too wrapped up in my modesty to even consider putting it on. I barely glanced at it before hiding it away.

But now…

My lips curled into a wicked smile as I draped the dress against my body, turning toward the mirror. For a moment I just stared. I hardly recognized the woman looking back at me, and that realization made a chuckle slip out.

Look at me now. Look at how far I have come.

It was decided. I was going to wear this tonight.

A little flutter of nerves stirred in my stomach, and then a sharp, dirty punch of thrill right after. What expression would he make when he sees me in this? Would he freeze? Would he think I looked like a slut?

I stared from top to bottom, tracing the daring cut that exposes the leg. My mind flicked back to all those times he had hinted, nudging me with a playful smile to at least try the dress on, and how I always shook my head, cheeks burning, too embarrassed to even imagine myself in it. How pathetic I was back then, hiding behind innocence.

But... Not anymore. I... I badly want to wear this dress, to walk out on his arm, to have random men eyes all over my body while he stands there, forced to watch. I want him jealous, protective, conflicted because it would be just so... exciting.

A low, shaky laugh left my lips. God, what’s wrong with me? My hand slipped inside my pants, fingers sliding down. And of course, wetness greeted me instantly.

Yes. I wanted to see that look on his face, that sudden realization that his simple, ordinary wife could wear something so revealing. The shy part of me squirmed at the idea, cheeks heating, but the want to wear it burned hotter, stronger. My embarrassment was nothing compared to the thrill that came with slipping into this forbidden dress at last.

Tonight, I was going to step out of this room as a different woman.

I slipped the dress on slowly, savoring the way it stuck to me. In the mirror, the truth hit me—I looked like the people I once hated. The cut carved its way up my leg, stopping just short of where my thigh met my waist, flashing soft skin I had never dared to show. My tits sat perfectly framed, my ass rounded and pushed out perfectly as well.

I turned side to side, admiring the sinful outline, biting my lip as I gave a few dirty expressions that suited this outfit well. I didn’t look like a
sweet, married housewife. I looked like some seducing slut getting ready to be pounded.

An excited rush washed over me, but then—“Are you ready?” his voice called from the hallway.

I flinched, straightening instantly, trying to erase those smiles from my face. My chest tightened as if I’d been caught. I forced myself to look modest again, the innocent wife he thought he married. “Almost,” I answered, but my voice cracked.

Heart pounding, I slid my feet into the heels, each click against the floor making me more aware of what I was about to do. One final look in the mirror—painted lips, exposed leg, perfectly curved figure and I took a deep breath.

With shaky steps, excitement and shame twisting inside me, I opened the door and walked out to face him.

As I stepped into the living room, I saw him sitting on the couch—frozen, mouth slightly open. My stomach dropped. The reality hit me hard, the thrill that had carried me so far suddenly vanished, replaced by the visual of my actions. His eyes stayed locked on me, unblinking, perhaps unsure of what to say.

I had expected this silence. I had even prepared myself for it, but somehow it still cut through me. The rush of thrill and excitement had clouded my mind earlier. Now I wondered—did I just fuck up? Did I push too far?

I remained still, awkward, my heart pounding in my chest. And then, I don’t even know why… I spun. Just a small spin. To show him. To show him how this slutty dress looked at his wife. Maybe I did know why—because buried beneath my fear was that little drop of excitement. I wanted to tease him, to see his reaction, to wear something that I knew would make him a little uncomfortable.

I stood there afterward, cheeks warm, my body betraying a hint of nervousness mixed with undeniable excitement. My eyes searched his face desperately, waiting for him to say something—anything.

Finally, his lips opened. “I–I thought you didn’t like that dress,” he said softly, confused.

I swallowed, forcing myself to keep calm. “I-I thought…” The words trailed off. My mind scrambled for something reasonable to say, something that explained why I was standing here dressed like this. But nothing came. No excuse sounded right, so I gave up. “I’m sorry. I’ll just go and change,” I murmured, turning quickly toward the bedroom.

His sudden movement made me stop in my tracks. He shot up from the couch, voice urgent. “Wait—you look really… gorgeous, I swear. You don’t have to change.”

My feet froze. My breath hitched, eyes lifting slightly. A shy, excited smile spread on my lips before I could stop it. “R-really?”

“On God,” he said firmly, stepping toward me. “I was just a little caught off guard since you said before you didn’t really like this one, that’s all.”

I lowered my gaze, still smiling faintly, my chest fluttering. “Y-yeah, you’re right. I jus—”

“I mean,” he cut in gently, “our tastes can change over time, and that’s okay.” His hand reached out, fingers brushing lightly against me, pulling me a little closer. “Seeing you like this… honestly makes me want to cancel going there for dinner and just have you as my dinner instead.”

I blushed hard, and I pulled back playfully, trying to hide how his words struck me. My cheeks were all red, but I forced a light laugh. “Come on, we’ll be late.”

I rushed towards the door, pausing right at the threshold. I playfullu turned back to him. My lips turning into a teasing smile, “Let’s not be too late for dinner… or you might miss out on the special one too.” I added a playful wink before opening the door.

*Knock *Knock

“Welcome!” Lina’s husband boomed, his voice so loud it made me wince slightly.

Before I could even step fully inside, Lina came rushing forward and pulled me into a tight hug. Her perfume washed over me as she leaned back, her eyes sweeping up and down my body.

“Oh my god, you… you look absolutely stunning! That dress, God… so hot. You’re absolutely glowing, girl!” she gushed, her words pouring out like a waterfall.

I tried to stop her, my face warming with embarrassment — not in a bad way. Still, she wouldn’t quit, her praises spilling out one after another, louder and more insistent each time. All I could do was laugh awkwardly, covering my face a little and muttering “stop it” while she kept going, leaving me flustered but secretly smiling.

We sat down, laughter starting to fill the room, when a sudden knock at the door cut through the air. I blinked and glanced toward it, then at Lina’s husband, my brows knitting in confusion.

“Was someone else coming too?” my husband asked, tilting his head slightly.

“It’s the young guy who lives right beside you,” he said casually. “You probably already know him, don’t you?”

The words hit me like a jolt. My chest tingled sharply, my tits aching as if they were already begging for his hands, stiffening with a needy pull I couldn’t control.

No way. Him?

A wave of unease rushed through me. I straightened in my seat, hands twisting together in my lap. My thoughts tangled with each other, heat and panic mixed into a knot in my belly. Why here? Why now? Please, not with my husband beside me. He wouldn’t… he couldn’t try anything, right?

The door creaked open, and there he was. Polite smile plastered across his face, but his eyes… oh, his eyes betrayed him the moment they landed on me. He looked. And looked. Longer than was polite, longer than any married woman should ever allow.

My throat went dry, a flush spreading from my chest to my cheeks. I felt exposed, like he could see straight through the thin fabric of my dress, straight into the shameful thoughts I had tried to bury. When his lips curved into a small smile, it was as if he was confirming what I already knew. He liked what he saw.

And worse—my body liked that he did.

A shiver crept down my spine, betraying me. Stop it… stop thinking like this. Not here, not in front of him. But even as I prayed for the ground to swallow me, a traitorous thought whispered through my head: He knows exactly what I’m hiding under this dress. And he wants it.

Before my thoughts could spiral further, Lina clapped her hands, her cheerful voice snapping me out of my haze. “Sooo… let’s start the partyyy!”