The tension in the room was as thick as the haze of cigar smoke swirling under the dim light above the poker table. Jack’s shirt clung to his back, damp with sweat. Across from him, Victor Lane lounged with maddening ease, his fingers drumming on the green felt. The man was the embodiment of control, his grin taunting Jack at every turn.
Victor tapped the rim of his whiskey glass. “You’ve got one last chance, Jack. Either call it quits or bet big. What’s it going to be?”
Jack glanced at his cards—a pair of jacks and a ten of hearts, enough to keep him in the game for now. He didn’t dare look over at Emma, who sat at the bar nursing her wine, her expression inscrutable.
“What do you mean by ‘big’?” Jack asked, his voice hoarse.
Victor’s grin widened. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “You’re running on fumes, Malone. No chips left, no collateral. Unless…” He tilted his head toward Emma, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Jack stiffened. “Unless what?”
“You bet her,” Victor said. “One night. She’s mine. And you’ll sit and watch.”
Jack felt the room spin. “You’re out of your damn mind.”
Victor shrugged, tossing a chip into the pot like it was nothing. “Am I? You’re the one who’s gambled away everything else. Why not double down? Or are you finally ready to admit you’re out of your depth?”
Jack’s gaze darted to Emma. To his shock, she didn’t look horrified. She didn’t look anything. Her calm, poised expression was unreadable, as if she’d already made peace with the idea.
Before he could respond, Emma stood and walked to the table. She placed her wine glass down with a deliberate click, her gaze steady on Jack.
“If you’re going to do this, Jack, don’t drag it out,” she said evenly. Her voice wasn’t cold, but it carried a weight that made Jack’s stomach churn.
“Emma, I—”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You’ve gambled with everything else in our lives. What’s one more bet?”
Her words stung, but the worst part was the truth behind them. Jack had pushed them to the edge more times than he could count, and now he was finally at the cliff.
Victor chuckled, shuffling the deck with the ease of a predator toying with its prey. “So, it’s a deal?”
Jack hesitated, his hands trembling as he placed his cards face down. “Deal.”
The cards were dealt, each flip feeling like a hammer striking an anvil. Jack’s heart raced as he built his hand—a pair of jacks turned into three of a kind. Then four of a kind. His confidence swelled.
But Victor’s smirk never wavered.
The final card came down, and Jack laid his hand on the table with a triumphant snap. “Four jacks.”
Victor leaned back, feigning surprise. “Impressive.” Then, slowly, deliberately, he revealed his hand.
A straight flush.
Jack’s breath left his chest in a rush. The room seemed to tilt, the weight of his loss crashing down on him.
Victor exhaled in satisfaction, tossing his cards onto the pile. “Looks like I win. A pleasure doing business with you, Malone.”
Jack couldn’t bring himself to look at Emma as Victor stood and held out his hand to her. She didn’t hesitate, slipping her fingers into Victor’s with a grace that tore Jack apart.
As they walked toward the bedroom, Victor shot Jack a parting glance. “Come along, Malone. That was part of the deal.”
Jack sat frozen in the chair, his muscles rigid with a mixture of anger, disbelief, and an odd sense of helplessness. Every instinct screamed for him to leave, to walk away from this nightmare, but his body refused to obey. He followed his wife to the bedroom, unable to tear his eyes away from the woman he thought he knew.
Walking into the bedroom last, Jack saw Victor’s hands traced Emma’s body with the precision of someone who had all the time in the world. Emma’s face was still calm, but her eyes betrayed excitement. His stomach twisted as he realized the truth: she wasn’t just tolerating this; she was responding to Victor’s touch, giving herself over to him.
Victor’s lips found her neck, brushing against her skin with the lightest touch before he pressed in with more urgency. Emma let out a soft breath, her body tilting toward him instinctively, as though his touch was an answer to a question she had stopped asking.
Jack’s thoughts were a blur as he watched, feeling more like an outsider than a husband. He had never seen Emma so unguarded, so willing to surrender to someone else’s touch. Her hands moved freely over Victor’s chest. She ran her fingers down the hard, sculpted lines of his body, tracing every contour with curiosity.
Victor, in turn, seemed to relish her attention. He smiled as if he were a conqueror who knew the spoils of victory were in his grasp. He placed one hand on the back of Emma’s neck, drawing her closer, his lips now moving with purpose. Emma didn’t resist; she leaned into him, her mouth opening slightly as if welcoming him to explore.
Jack’s breath caught in his throat as he saw Emma allow Victor to undress her, her movements slow, deliberate, but not out of hesitation—more out of a kind of yielding grace. Victor’s hands moved to her waist, slipping her blouse off with a practiced ease, Emma didn’t stop him. She simply let it happen.
Victor’s hands moved deliberately to her shoulders, slipping beneath the straps of her bra. With a quick motion, he unhooked it and slid it down her arms. Jack’s breath hitched as the fabric fell away, revealing Emma’s breasts—soft and full, with a natural elegance that Jack had taken for granted. She made no move to cover herself, her posture confident and unguarded. Jack noticed her nipples were errect.
Victor’s hands traveled lower, expertly working on the buttons of her jeans, and Emma didn’t flinch. She didn’t protest, didn’t shy away. Instead, she allowed him to peel away the layers of fabric. When the jeans slipped to the floor, Victor knelt briefly, his fingers hooking onto the lace of her panties. Jack stopped breathing momentarily as he watched Victor pause, looking up at Emma as if asking for permission.
Emma nodded, her body perfectly still, and Victor slid the delicate fabric down her legs in one smooth motion. The gesture wasn’t rushed, nor was it hesitant—it was deliberate, as though unwrapping a rare gift. The intimacy of it, the reverence in Victor’s movements, made Jack feel like he was intruding on something he had no right to witness.
Victor ran his hands slowly up Emma’s legs, his touch sure and commanding. She stood before him now, fully exposed, her breathing shallow but steady. Jack noticed the faint flush spreading across her chest, a mix of nervous energy and undeniable anticipation. There had been times when he had seen Emma undressed, but never like this—never with such ease, such confidence, as though she had shed more than her clothes in Victor’s presence.
Victor stood, his hands brushing over Emma’s hips as he kissed her again, deeper this time. Emma’s arms came around his neck, pulling him closer, her body melting into his. Jack stood paralyzed in the corner of the bedroom, his chest tight with the realization that this wasn’t a woman reluctantly going through the motions—this was Emma surrendering entirely.
Victor, still holding her close, began undressing himself with the same unhurried confidence, his eyes never leaving hers. When he stood fully revealed, Emma’s gaze flicked downward, and Jack saw the unmistakable look of surprise that crossed her face. Her lips parted slightly, and for a brief moment, she seemed to hesitate.
Victor was every inch the man Jack could never be, physically and emotionally. When he was fully exposed, Emma’s eyes traveled down his body, and involuntarily stopped to focus on his pelvis.
Jack had already seen the comparison—Victor was larger, more commanding. But it wasn’t just his size that affected Emma; it was his absolute confidence. There was no hesitancy in his touch, no second-guessing. With Jack, there had always been a slow, almost apologetic approach. Emma’s resistance to certain things in their bedroom was a boundary she had kept firm. But now, standing before Victor, she seemed to drop those defenses.
Victor stepped forward, reaching out to touch her. This time, Emma didn’t pull away. Instead, she closed the distance, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was nothing like the ones Jack had shared with her. It was hungry, eager—no trace of the cautious, measured love they had once shared. This was new, this was different. Emma’s hands slid up Victor’s chest, feeling the strong muscles under her fingertips. She pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, drawing him in with an intensity Jack had never witnessed before.
Then Emma dropped to her knees, as if practiced, but Jack knew very well she was not. She had always refused to give him blowjobs, insisting that it hurt her mouth, but the moment her knees touched the floor, she had Victor’s penis in her mouth.
Even flaccid, Victor was twice the size of Jack when he was hard. Emma held Victor, her hand barely able to encircle his soft dick. Even though it was still soft, she had difficulty putting the whole thing in her mouth. Nonetheless, she started working it like a porn star.
As Victor’s cock became engorged, Emma had to focus on the head while she stroked the shaft with both hands, which could no longer completely encircle it. Victor glanced over to Jack and winked.
After several minutes of sucking and stroking his cock, Victor lifted Emma to her feet and began French kissing her. His hands moved down her back, cupping her ass as he lifted her effortlessly. Emma wrapped her legs around him. She was no longer holding back. She was no longer just allowing things to happen—she was embracing them.
As Victor carried her to the bed, Jack stayed where he was, watching from the chair, feeling the full weight of his own impotence. He had never seen Emma so uninhibited, so willing to follow where someone else led. There was no hesitation, no resistance—just a woman ready to let go of everything. And in that moment, Jack knew that what she was surrendering to wasn’t just Victor—it was the release from years of restraint, of hesitation, of the roles they had both clung to for so long.
Victor set Emma down on the bed with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the rawness of the moment. He didn’t ask; he took, and Emma didn’t object. Her hands moved to his body, exploring with a sense of wonder, as though she were discovering something completely new.
As Victor leaned over her, Emma’s gaze softened. She let herself fall back into the bed, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. For the first time in years, Emma was not holding back. There was no resistance, no carefully guarded lines she had drawn between them. She was lost in this moment with Victor, free of the inhibitions that had once kept her from truly surrendering herself to Jack.
Kneeling at the edge of the bed, Victor spread Emma’s legs and began to perform cunnilingus. Emma moaned in pleasure. When she was wet, Victor once again picked Emma up effortlessly and flipped her over on her hands and knees. Emma offered no resistance as Victor prepared to fuck her doggie-style.
Emma never let Jack fuck her like a dog. She told him the position was degrading. But as Jack looked at her face from the corner, he saw no hesitation, only lust.
Holding her hip with one hand and his cock with the other, Victor began to press himself into Emma’s pussy. He was at the same time firm and gentle. He used the head of his cock to part her labia, then pressed it against her resistant vaginal opening. Pressing and releasing, he gradually stretched her to accept the glans, then deliberately fed the shaft until he was completely inside her.
As Victor penetrated her, Emma emitted a sound that was an amalgamation of pain and pleasure. He left in place for a full minute, allowing her some opportunity to relax, and then Victor started sliding his massive cock halfway in and out of Jack’s wife’s pussy.
Emma face was planted sidewise on the bed, facing Jack, but she was not looking at him. Her eyes began to roll back under the lids as Victor started to move his cock in and out of her with rapidity. Within ten minutes of first starting to penetrate her, he was fucking her pussy like an animal. With both hands firmly gripping each hip, each thrust moved Emma’s entire body while Victor hardly moved an inch.
Jack, still watching from the corner, felt like a stranger in the room, someone who no longer belonged. The woman he thought he knew was gone—replaced by someone else, someone willing to embrace all the things she had once refused to entertain. The things Jack had never been able to give her, Victor now provided without hesitation.
Victor and Emma fucked for twenty-five minutes. As Victor approached a climax, Jack realized for the first time that he was fucking is wife bareback. Moments later Victor’s head shot backwards, and he howled as he released his load in Emma’s pussy. Jack noticed Emma pushed her ass backwards to accept it. As Victor’s orgasm subsided, he redrew from Emma. His cock came out of her pussy with a gusher of cum.
Both collapsed on the bed, Victor on top of Emma. Victor was still panting as Jack left the room to make himself a drink.
Sitting on the couch alone, Jack had already downed two scotch and sodas in rapid succession, and he was nursing a third when he the sound of sex coming from the bedroom. He wanted to ignore the sounds and continue self-medicating, but he couldn’t. The sounds were clearly of a man’s cock getting sucked.
Jack got up from the couch and stood at the threshold of the bedroom door. Victor was on his back and Emma was in a 69-position sucking his cock with abandon. Victor was not licking her pussy but was instead finger-fucking her ass, pausing only periodically to scoop up some cum from his chest, which was still dripping from his wife’s pussy, and was being used by Victor as a lubricant.
Jack had only once brought up anal sex with Emma. She had shot the idea down as disgusting. A practical stranger was now stretching her anus while he face fucked her. This spectacle went on for ten or twenty minutes, but which time, Victor had three of his fingers in her ass. It was obvious to Jack that Victor intended to ruin all of his wife’s orifices.
At the point that Emma started to buck against the half-a-fist probing her rectum, Victor grabbed her hips and lifted her to her knees. While Victor held his cock, Emma lowered herself repeated reverse-cowgirl style while attempting to forced the massive cock in. Failing, she simply let her body weight do the work.
Like a magic trick, slowly the colossal cock disappeared in her rectum. Victor could not believe anything that massive could fit in his wife’s ass.
Emma sat motionless for several minutes, leading to the impression she was celebrating a victory, but in reality, she was waiting to relax enough that the excruciating pain would subside. Victor also realized what was happening and he waited patiently for Emma’s ass to accept his cock.
After what seemed like an eternity, Emma started to lift and lower herself repeatedly. With each cycle she moved faster. At some point Victor took control, flipped her to her hands and knees while his cock was still impaling her ass, and he started assfucking her. At first he maintained a pass similar to the one she had, but before long, he was punishing her ass with the same vigor he had fucked her pussy.
Emma squealed like a sow giving birth as Victor sodomized her. Victor could believe his eyes and ears. In a couple of hours, Victor had turned his wife into an anal whore. And then it happened … she called out his name, “Fuck my ass, Victor!”
Minutes later, Victor pulled his cock out of her ass unceremoniously. Grabbing a fistful of Emma’s hair, he stuck his cock in her mouth and pumped in in and out several time, causing Emma to gag, before he released a second load of cum, this time into her mouth. Emma did not flinch, and after swallowing, she licked the filth off Vicktor’s receding cock.
Once again, the couple collapsed on the bed. This time they seemed to fall asleep. And in the quiet of the room, Jack realized just how deeply he had lost. It wasn’t just the betrayal—it was the knowledge that Emma, the woman he had fought for, had already let go. She wasn’t just with Victor physically; she was giving herself over in every way that mattered.
Jack had not simply lost a poker hand that night, he had lost his wife to a man he could never be.