Dangerous Affair with my hot boss

~~ELLIE~~ Once, in senior year, I had hidden my panties in my English teacher's bag, hoping he'd take a sniff of them when he got home. Don’t blame me—he looked like Chris Evans. But still, that didn’t top the crazy situation I was in right now. I was curled up in the trunk of my husband’s new sedan. And no, I hadn’t been kidnapped. This was all me. I hadn’t meant to do this—I wasn’t crazy. I didn’t just wake up one morning and decide to hide in his trunk. I was just… tired of pretending I didn’t see the way my husband, Nolan, checked his phone with a smirk every time we had dinner or how he came home smelling like another woman’s perfume. “Just once,” I whispered to myself, staring into the void, my fingers twitching against my torso. “Just to know the truth.” Several minutes passed before the car jolted, and I heard him climb in. Then, I heard laughter. It was a woman’s voice—soft, feminine. “Mmm, you really left the office early for me, huh?” she drawled. My heart began to thud in my chest. I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. “Can you blame me? You’ve been teasing me all day,” Nolan’s voice cut in. His voice was different. Not hard and emotionless like it always was whenever he spoke to me. It was low and flirtatious, and that hit home. “Well, I can’t help it. You’re the sexiest man ever.” They laughed together. Sure, Nolan was handsome—blonde, with piercing blue eyes. He was ripped and well over six feet tall. I was red-haired with bangs and occasionally wore nerd glasses. I mostly wore cashmere blouses and denim baggy jeans, so whenever we went out, people—especially ladies—complimented him and not me. So I got it—he was sexy. But he was my sexiest man ever, not hers. “You sure know how to caress my eagle, Ann...” “Of course. Flattery is the way to a man’s dick.” That was so damn cringe, and I almost choked, but then I picked out something—Ann. Annabelle Mayers! His secretary! My heart smashed into pieces. Months of suspicions, and I was right! She was the other woman! I had known enough—there was no need waiting for more evidence. Just as I tightened my fists, ready to bang against the roof of the trunk, the sounds came. Lips smacking together, giggling, moaning. Clothes rustling. The soft creak of leather. I clamped a hand over my mouth to suppress a cry. Jesus. This could not be happening. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it all out. But I couldn’t. My husband was having s*x with his secretary. I heard every moan, every dirty word he whispered into her ear. The grunts he made like it was the best s*x of his life. He whispered all the things he hadn’t told me in years. This felt like getting heart surgery without anesthesia. I shook violently like I had caught a cold, hot tears streaming down from the sides of my eyes. My chest felt too tight; I had to breathe through my mouth so I wouldn’t choke to death. I was trapped in hell. “Is your wife, Ellie, this tight?” Ann asked, her voice shaky, her breath ragged. I instantly froze at the sudden question. Why was she asking that? Wasn't it bad enough that she was having s*x with my husband?! She was f*****g bringing up my name?! “Don’t bring her up. She’s not important now… You’re tight, and I love sneaking around with you,” Nolan muttered between grunts. I bit my knuckle so hard, I tasted my own blood. I wanted to scream, I wanted to kick the trunk open and drag Ann by the hair, slap her right across the face, and tell her what a little homewrecker she was. But I didn’t. There was no point. It took two to tango, and my husband was one of them. So, I stayed still, listening to the erotic sounds of him making love to another woman. It was an excruciating experience I’d never wish on my worst enemy. The horrible nightmare ended many minutes after, and surprisingly, I was still alive. The car drove off and finally pulled into someone’s driveway. He dropped Ann off down the street. Everything seemed so natural, like he had done this before—countless times. The car sped off again, and this time, it stopped in my driveway. We were home. I waited patiently, and in a moment, the trunk finally popped open. Nolan whistled as he pulled it open to grab his work bag. “Jesus f*****g—” He jumped back like he’d seen a huge owl in his trunk. The look on his face was priceless—pale and terrified. I sat upright, probably looking like I had seen hell. “Hi, honey,” I said, sarcastically, a sad smile on my face. “E-Ellie?! What the f**k—how—?” He was breathing like he had just run a marathon. I couldn’t hear my heart beating anymore. I wiped off my tears and climbed out slowly. I looked up at him—my husband. He still smelled of her perfume. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “I can explain—” “No. I heard enough.” I let out a hard breath, a shudder rippling through me. “I was going to tell you!” he blurted. “Really?” I reeled back. Did he seriously just say that? “You were going to tell me you’ve been sleeping with your secretary?” “No—Yes! I mean...” He rubbed his forehead, looking around, and then back to me. “We discussed this months ago.” “We did?” I almost laughed like a madwoman. “Yes, Ellie. We agreed to see other people. Open marriage. Remember?” he explained like he was saying something reasonable. He wasn't. “I can’t believe this.” I shook my head, utterly stunned by his audacity. “You’re using your own vile suggestion to cheat on me, and now you’re gaslighting me into believing it’s not cheating?!” I expected a long stream of apologies, fake tears, anything. Anything to show he was regretful. He didn't do any of that. Instead, he frowned, looking me up and down like I was the one caught sleeping with a co-worker. “How the f**k did you even get in my trunk?” That was my husband's reply to being confronted about cheating. My entire body hummed with embarrassment. “You know, I thought we would find our spark back, be a happy couple again, but now...” I hiccupped, my vision blurred with tears as I stared at him. “I can’t stand the sight of you.” And then, with a bruised heart, trembling hands, and tears streaming down my cheeks, I walked past him, straight into the house, without a single glance back. That was the night I stopped being the perfect wife… and started becoming the woman who did whatever the hell she wanted.