Jian's beautiful wife, once so resistant, was now clearly succumbing to the illicit affair with her husband's boss. To make it even more brazen, the very next morning, they chose to conduct their "training" in the living room, in plain sight. Jian, ever the oblivious husband, sat nearby, feigning absorption in his phone, while Mr. Davies "trained" his wife.
She was dressed only in her delicate undergarments, her figure beautifully framed by the morning light. Mr. Davies, in close proximity, began their "yoga session." His hardened member, a constant, undeniable presence, pressed against her, disguised as accidental brushes and comforting embraces during their intricate poses. Jian watched, his senses alight, as his wife executed deep stretches, her nude glutes now fully exposed to his gaze as Mr. Davies was positioned directly behind her, his body pressed intimately against hers.
From Jian's vantage point, it looked as though Mr. Davies was merely a shadow, a presence behind his wife's beautiful, exposed form. Her lower body was bare, her skin glistening. The scene was almost surreal, made more so by the absurd notion that her exposed skin was merely "special mesh." Their bodies were slick with sweat, a testament to their intense "workout." Jian, playing the doting husband, offered them drinks, his movements slow and deliberate.
The System hummed with approval, showering Jian with rewards for his carefully orchestrated manipulation. Mr. Davies, with a casual grunt, fully settled his weight onto Jian's wife, effectively using her as a living chair right before Jian's eyes. Jian, maintaining his oblivious facade, simply commented, "This yoga looks quite intense, Mr. Davies!"
Mr. Davies's internal thought:The fool. He truly is blind, isn't he? Or just utterly desperate. This is almost too easy. Her curves beneath me, the way she clenches just slightly… and him, watching, clueless. Priceless. Thank you, you idiot.
Jian's wife, pressed tightly beneath Mr. Davies, shifted subtly. Her internal struggle was a tempest of conflicting emotions.
Jian's wife's internal thought:It's so tight... his weight... I can feel every inch of him. This is humiliating, yet... why does my body react this way? And Jian... he just watches, so innocent. Does he truly not see? The shame... but the warmth, the pressure...
As if on cue, she looked down at Jian, a shy, almost timid expression on her flushed face. "I... I love you, darling," she murmured, her voice soft, barely audible over the light grunts of Mr. Davies's "yoga" movements.
Jian watched, a cold, calculating satisfaction coursing through him. The sheer audacity of the display, the layers of deception, all contributing to his perverse pleasure. Mr. Davies, upon hearing her declaration, chuckled deeply, a low, satisfied rumble. He leaned closer to Jian, ostensibly to whisper a yoga tip, but his voice was laced with a smug, knowing undertone. "You're a lucky man, aren't you?" he drawled, his body still grinding imperceptibly against Jian's wife, his eyes glinting with a triumphant leer. Jian merely smiled back, a picture of blissful ignorance.