Koen was standing in front of the large glass window of his home office. He was wearing an expensive, tailored white shirt paired with finely cut khaki trousers. Still holding a coffee in one hand, his eyes were fixed outside, watching the rain. Koen checked his wristwatch once more and decided that he should leave for the office now.
He checked himself in the mirror one last time. Koen’s dark blond hair was neatly trimmed and carefully styled, while his hazel eyes gave his clean-shaven face a sharp, energetic look. He was not the kind of man who grew nervous easily, but today was a big day, not only for him, but for WelTech as well, the software company he had inherited from his mother nearly a year ago.
Over the past year, Koen had worked relentlessly, driven not by the need to prove himself to others, but to himself. WelTech was more than an inheritance to him; it was something he intended to earn the right to lead. At just twenty-six, he had already accomplished what many in the IT industry could only dream of.
Koen passed by his bedroom and quietly opened the door to check on his wife, who was still sleeping soundly. Saskia lay on her right side, facing the door, while the faint light from the hallway slipped into the otherwise dark room and gently illuminated her face. Even after three years of marriage, Koen still found it difficult to believe that this angelic woman was truly his wife.
For a moment, he simply stood there, watching her in silence. A few strands of her straight platinum blonde hair rested across her cheek, and in the soft glow spilling through the doorway, she looked almost unreal, peaceful and untouched.
Quietly, he stepped closer to the bed and carefully brushed the strands of hair away from her face before leaning down to press a soft kiss against her cheek. She was naked under the soft blanket and the faint scent of jasmine still lingered around her, the same perfume she had worn on their date the night before.
“Sleep well, love” he whispered.
Koen closed the bedroom door quietly behind him and stood still for a brief moment in the hallway. The silence of the house felt heavier now, as if it knew the weight of the day ahead. Outside, the rain tapped steadily against the windows, a soft but constant reminder that the world was already moving without waiting for him.
What truly weighed on his mind was that Soren was coming to Zilverduin tonight, his oldest friend, perhaps his only real one. Soren’s life of hardship stood in stark contrast to Koen’s world of privilege. Raised in luxury, Koen had never wanted for anything, while Soren hadn’t even had a last name. Years ago, Koen’s mother had rescued the ten-year-old boy from a sewer, bleeding from a deep gash on his arm, and quietly given him a second chance at life, housing, school, even an allowance. From then on, Koen and Soren were inseparable.
After high school, everything changed. Soren left Zilverduin, refused help, and eventually served time in prison. The last time Koen saw him was three years ago, when Soren stood as best man at his wedding, slouching in a gray suit too big for him, his shaved head bowed in silence.
Tonight, after years apart, he was returning.
Koen sat in the driver’s seat of his oak-green metallic Panamera, thinking about last night’s date, when he had brought up Soren’s impending arrival. Saskia had never liked Soren from the very beginning and had tried to keep him away from Soren. Koen didn’t blame her; he understood that Soren’s reputation hardly strengthened his case.
Suddenly, his phone blinked. A text from Saskia appeared:
Wifey: You forgot your jacket
‘Fuck’, A moment later, another message popped up:
Wifey: Wait, I’m bringing it to you
Koen sat behind the wheel of his oak-green metallic Panamera, engine idling softly. His mind kept drifting back to the night before, the rare, filthy pleasure of his wife’s mouth. Saskia seldom gave head, but when she does…
“You should have awake me.”
He looked to his right and felt the air leave his lungs.
Saskia was walking toward the car in nothing but a loosely tied maroon silk robe that barely reached mid-thigh. The belt was knotted carelessly, allowing the front to fall open with every step. The inner curves of her full breasts were completely exposed, her nipples only just covered by the slipping fabric. She moved with unhurried confidence, hips swaying, completely unbothered by how much skin she was showing in their driveway.
Saskia had never been the modest kind. She loved her body and hated covering it with long, boring clothes. Koen, for his part, loved showing her off.
Koen stepped out of the car. Saskia held his jacket open for him and he slipped his arms into it.
“Thank you, babe,” he said.
A bright smile lit up her face. “You ready for today?”
“Yes, most certainly.” He leaned in and kissed her, then added softly, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For letting me invite Soren for dinner tonight.”
“Koen…” Her voice instantly carried clear displeasure. “I still don’t understand why you had to invite him. You know how I feel about him.”
“He’s my oldest friend, babe. He’s stood by my side every time.” Koen paused, choosing his words carefully. “He just… had a really rough life.”
Ø
Koen stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the 23rd floor. He was heading up to the important investors meeting for WelTech. The elevator rose smoothly until it stopped at the 16th floor. Three men and one woman stepped in. They all exchanged polite pleasantries.
At the 20th floor, the three men got off, leaving Koen alone with the woman.
Only then did he get a proper look at the woman standing beside him. She was petite at 5’3″, with a slim, delicate frame. Her platinum blonde hair fell in soft, glossy waves just past her shoulders, framing a strikingly pretty face. She wore a fitted red pencil skirt that hugged her slender hips, paired with a crisp white blouse tucked in neatly, the top two buttons undone to reveal just a hint of cleavage. A tailored black blazer rested on her shoulders, and her 3-inch nude heels added a few extra inches to her height. Even in the quiet elevator, she carried a sharp, almost arrogant confidence that was impossible to ignore. Despite her small stature, she seemed larger than life next to Koen, who stood at 5’9″.
Koen frowned. “Can you button up?”
The woman didn’t even look up from her phone. “Can you stop looking?” she replied coolly.
‘Why did she always have to be so impossible?’ he thought. The only thing he and his sister had in common was their hair color, and even that had changed about a year ago. He was too focused on the meeting to argue with her; any argument would be pointless. Cornelia had been stubborn since childhood. Yet despite her uncompromising attitude, he knew one thing for certain, she would always have his back when he needed it. She was one of the reasons he had put WelTech on the road to success. Now, he would face all the investors at once, and it was his job to plant his ideas firmly in the minds of those old, obstinate men who hadn’t learned to adapt to a world that kept moving forward.
“Hey, Nell,” Koen spoke just after exiting the elevator. “Are they all in?” He cast her a quick side glance.
“In?” Cornelia gave a slight chuckle. “They’re all waiting for you to eat you alive—like vultures,” she replied, still texting on her phone.
“Vultures only eat the dead,” Koen said, adjusting his jacket as he walked toward the meeting room.
“What—” Cornelia finally looked up at him for the first time.
“Never mind,” Koen said, ignoring her confusion, and opened the door to the meeting room, letting her walk in first.
Koen stepped into the conference room after Cornelia, the heavy door shutting behind them with a decisive click. For the first time since taking control of WelTech, he was facing all the investors at once. His stomach tightened slightly. Numbers and projections were one thing, but eight scrutinizing pairs of eyes, each holding a stake in his company, were something else entirely.
The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the city far below. Koen scanned the long table. On his right, in the first chair, sat Evelien van Dijk, a sharp forty-two-year-old woman with dark hair pulled back tightly and glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. Her gaze was piercing, the kind that cut straight through pretense.
To his left, Cornelia quietly took her seat and smoothly crossed her legs. Koen immediately noticed Daan Smit’s lustful eyes following her every movement. At only twenty-eight, Smit was the youngest investor in the room, and by far the most inexperienced. He had a long, freckled face and sat at the far end of the right side.
Among the six other investors was the man Koen worried about most, Jay Veenendaal. The fifty-eight-year-old sat attentively but in complete silence. With a clean-shaven, handsome, lightly tanned face and a full head of gray hair, Veenendaal carried a quiet authority. As the largest shareholder after Koen, his opinion could sway the entire room. He was also the founder of Toekomst, a company now on the verge of global expansion with its unique electronic machines.
“Thank you all for joining us on such short notice,” Koen said, waiting until everyone had acknowledged him. The room carried a strong scent of coffee and polished wood. He glanced at Cornelia, who sat with an amused little smile playing on her lips.
“Today,” Koen continued, “we will decide the future of the dream my mother envisioned, not just for us, but for the generations to come.”
He delivered his pitch with calm confidence. The meeting was filled with back-and-forth questions, most of them coming from Daan Smit. His questions were often amateurish, revealing his lack of experience, but Koen could tell the young man was desperate to prove himself.
The meeting stretched on for nearly three hours. Throughout it all, Jay Veenendaal remained completely silent. It was difficult to read a man who never spoke. Koen carefully observed everyone’s reactions. Most investors looked skeptical, but Veenendaal’s face stayed utterly unreadable.
Finally, Koen concluded his presentation with his mother’s favorite line: “As my mother used to say, ‘Build what others can’t imagine, and the rest will follow.’ Thank you.”
The room held its silence like a held breath until Veenendaal finally spoke.
“Your idea does sound amusing, Mr. Jensen,” he said, pausing as he looked down at his tablet. Koen hadn’t even noticed he was taking notes. Veenendaal scrolled a bit more before continuing, “What you’re suggesting could change the game…” He paused again, this time looking straight into Koen’s eyes, “…or end your reign.”
All eyes turned to Koen. Veenendaal’s deep, heavy voice carried significant weight. For a brief moment, Koen was at a loss for words, unsure whether it was encouragement or a veiled threat.
Koen finally composed himself and replied calmly, “I trust myself enough to take this risk, Mr. Veenendaal.” He returned the man’s gaze and, for the first time, saw a faint smile on Veenendaal’s face.
“We’re going to need some time to discuss,” Amara spoke in a slow, husky voice.
Amara de Vries sat directly across from him, completely ignoring Smit’s occasional glances. The 34-year-old investor had a striking face with high cheekbones, full lips, and sharp dark eyes. Her long, jet-black hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders. She wore an elegant, tailored black dress that accentuated her figure while remaining perfectly professional.
Amara glanced at her phone and added, “After lunch, I hope.” she added, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Koen exhaled slowly, letting the tension leave his shoulders. He had survived his first full board meeting, though he could already tell Veenendaal was going to be a constant challenge.
Everyone had left the room except Cornelia, who remained seated, looking at him with questioning eyes.
“Would you be able to hear the verdict after lunch and let me know?” Koen asked hopefully.
Cornelia gave him a faint smile. “Sure, brother.”
Koen left the meeting room and quickly headed to the seventh floor. He stepped inside his office and carefully locked the door behind him. He wasn’t hungry. He was craving something else, something he didn’t fully understand.
The office was large and imposing, filled with old-money elegance. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sweeping view of the Zilverduin skyline, while dark walnut paneling, leather-bound bookshelves, and heavy antique furniture gave the room a sense of inherited wealth and power. A massive oak desk sat near the windows, dominating the space.
Koen awakened his computer, entered his password, and went straight to the Google search bar. He typed two words:
‘Cuckold Reddit’
The moment he pressed enter, a flood of questions rushed into his mind. ‘Why am I here? Why does this excite me so much? Why not normal porn like other men?’
He had several favorite accounts here, real wives letting other men fuck them in front of their husbands, or sometimes behind their backs, only to record it for them later. Every time he visited this side of Reddit, a strange, dark excitement stirred inside him. It wasn’t just about sex. It was the lifestyle. The power exchange. The way the wives submitted to their lovers while dominating their cuckold husbands.
He knew exactly when it began, back in high school, when Koen and Saskia were still learning who they were. He remembered her in dance class, bodies moving close with one of her male partners, and him standing at the edge, silent, watching. He didn’t understand why he lingered there, nor could he name what he was searching for. ‘Was I hoping to catch her cheating?’ ‘No—’ he could never imagine leaving her. ‘Or was I hoping she would cheat on me?’ That question still haunts him. Nothing had ever happened, not that day, nor any other day he secretly watched. Yet every time, he was left with the same confusing mix of emotions, never sure whether he felt more relieved… or more disappointed.
All he knew was that the strange excitement he felt in his stomach back then was exactly the same feeling he got now, scrolling through ‘Cuckold Reddit’.
Koen took out the small black key from his wallet and unlocked the bottom drawer of his oak desk. He pulled out a bottle of water-based lube, some wipes, and a condom, all the items he had secretly ordered to his office. He opened his trousers, took out his hard 4.5-inch cock, and rolled the condom on with practiced hands.
‘What triggered me today?’ he thought as he slowly stroked his lubed cock, eyes fixed on the screen.
He stopped on a video where the wife was lying on her back, legs spread wide. Her husband knelt right beside her, holding one of her thighs high on his shoulder while gripping her hand tightly, watching another man fuck her.
Suddenly, the woman’s face morphed in his mind. It became Amara.
He imagined her beautiful body moving with every hard thrust. Even though the video had no sound, Koen could clearly hear her husky voice in his head, moaning in a thick Spanish accent, desperately begging, her lover to fuck her harder. He had never seen her husband, but in his fantasy, the man was kneeling right beside her, holding her thigh, watching everything up close as another man fucked his wife.
Then something shifted.
Amara’s black hair turned into long, silky golden-blonde. Her tanned skin became pale and flawless. Now it was Saskia on her back, mouth open in a perfect ‘O’, eyes rolling back in pleasure. And it was Koen who was kneeling right beside her, holding her leg, watching another man ruin his wife’s pussy.
The man fucked Saskia harder, roughly grabbing her right breast as he pounded into her. When he finally came deep inside her, he pulled out and immediately grabbed the back of Koen’s head, shoving his face straight into Saskia’s freshly creampied pussy.
That was the moment Koen came hard into the condom, groaning quietly in his empty office.
He stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily.
‘What the fuck just happened…’