We almost didn’t go. One of our kids was sick, and it felt wrong to leave. But Catherine convinced me—it was one night, and the babysitter would call if anything changed. Since she was seven months pregnant, I decided not to drink. If we needed to leave in a hurry, I’d be ready.

The wedding was beautiful—one of those grand hotels in Cork, full of charm and warmth. The ceremony was lovely, and by dinner, we were seated with a group of couples around our own age. We hit it off with one pair in particular—laughing, sharing stories, finding that easy connection you don’t always get at weddings.

Then the phone rang.

Our babysitter. The baby’s cough had worsened, and they were struggling to settle him. Catherine didn’t hesitate—she told me to go home, check on things, and come back if everything was okay. She was going to lie down in our hotel room to rest.

I left mid-meal, heart racing. The baby was unsettled but not in distress. I soothed him, reassured the babysitter, and after about an hour, I felt confident enough to return to the wedding.

By the time I got back, the party was in full swing. Laughter, music, the clinking of glasses—but no sign of Catherine. I scanned the room, checked with a few people, but no one had seen her come back.

Something felt off.

I made my way upstairs to our room. As I reached our door, I paused.

From inside, I heard something.

A low, rhythmic sound—muffled moans, breathy gasps of pleasure.

I froze. My breath caught in my throat.

For a moment, I told myself I was imagining it. Maybe it was the next room over. Maybe she had the TV on. Maybe—

A soft laugh. A familiar voice.

I turned the handle.

The door wasn’t locked.

As it swung open, the scene inside hit me like a fist to the chest.

Catherine.

On our bed.

And the couple from our dinner table.

A tangle of limbs , her pregnant belly rising and falling between them as soft gasps and murmurs filled the ari. They hadn’t even noticed me yet. Him on his knees with his head up my wife's black dress licking her plump wet pussy with her red and black satin knickers pulled to the side and his busty blonde wife sucking on my wife's right breast that she had freed from my wife's matching bra and lowcut dress. Catherine was busty before she was pregnant but she had gone up 2 bra sizes.

A wave of nausea surged through me. My legs felt rooted to the floor, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing.

Then, as if sensing my presence, Catherine turned her head.

Our eyes met.

The room went silent.

To be continued .....