Peter knew his world was about to cave in.<em>We need to talk </em>. Those words that felt like a sucker punch to his gut. Anytime someone heard those words, there was never any good news to follow.  The hundreds of emotions flooding his brain, Anger, shock were at the top of the list. Now fear started to creep into the mix. What on earth did they have to talk about.  No apology would make this right.<br/><br/>He brushed past Jim, his face scrunched in the most menacing posture he could make, and it didn't seem to intimidate him the least. In fact he scoffed at the notion of a conflict and said he would head to the kitchen, as if he had been here before or this was no big deal. Jim's jaw dropped at his brashness, and the fact that he didn't care to cover up.  He plopped on the bed, his left hand covering his face in disbelief, his right hand landed in a pool of sticky wetness on the bed, adding to his anger.  He had sex juice and cum on his hand, as if to rub salt in the wound.  It was then he realized they hadn't protected himself, and that this stranger had an immense amount of cum.<br/><br/><strong>"Fuck!  Are you kidding me?!?" </strong>Peter bolted to the master bathroom to wash off the disgusting semen from his hand, thoroughly washing it with soap, walking back into the bedroom and sitting on the opposite side of the bed.<strong>"You can't possibly have a good explanation for all this!   How could you?" </strong>he fired off questions as his cheating wife reappeared into the room.