Embarking on the path of cuckoldry 8

Finally, one day, my wife quietly said to me, "J is coming to Jinan this weekend and wants to treat me to dinner tonight. What should I do? Should I go or not?"
My heart was pounding, but I tried to remain calm and said, "Go ahead. He helped us before, and besides, if he's going to treat us, we should be the ones to pay."
My wife hesitated a bit, "Wouldn't it be bad if I went alone? Let's go together."
I said, "It's just a meal, a chat, it's good to make friends. I haven't talked to him before, and we're not close. Besides, he's only inviting you; it wouldn't be appropriate for me to suddenly join in."
I tried to speak in a calm tone to downplay and dispel my wife's anxiety.
The night before, my wife and I lay in bed, and as J had suggested, I tried not to bring up the dinner with my wife.
My wife asked me, "Are you really not going tomorrow? I've never met him online; will anything happen?"
I reassured her, "No, it's just a meal together, a chat."
My wife said, "But..."
I asked, "But what?"
My wife hesitated. I guessed she wanted to say that she and J had chatted online about so many things that clearly went beyond the boundaries of normal friendship, and she'd even seen pictures of J's penis. How could she possibly face him in person? But my wife was afraid I'd press her about what they'd talked about that crossed the line, so she hesitated and didn't want to say. Then my wife asked about things like what to be mindful of during the meal, how long to eat, whether to exchange gifts, and etiquette.
I found it a little funny, thinking, "You really think it's just a meal? Actually, J is going to eat you up." At the same time, a bitter feeling welled up inside me. Tomorrow, just tomorrow, my wife, my wife, the love of my life, would most likely betray me and have sex with another man. I would truly join the ranks of cuckolded men.
Thinking of this, I couldn't help but give a bitter smile. My wife asked me what I was laughing at. What could I say at that moment? I just shook my head slightly: "Nothing, I'm just laughing at the ridiculous people in the world." My wife didn't understand what I meant and rolled her eyes at me: "Crazy!"
The next morning, everything was normal. After her afternoon nap, around 3 PM, my wife started getting busy—showering, drying her hair, looking for clothes, and finding her makeup box. I pretended to watch TV and didn't interfere.
After a while, she finally came out of the inner room: "Honey, do you think I look okay dressed like this for dinner?"
I looked up and my mouth dropped open. My wife was wearing a cream-colored sleeveless silk mini-dress. She prefers simple colors, either white or pink, and rarely buys clothes with color blocking. The upper part, from her chest to her shoulders, was made of sheer lace, clearly showing the two bra straps underneath. It hugged her slender waist, and her fair, rounded arms were bare. She wore ultra-thin, sheer flesh-colored stockings, which made her already shapely thighs and calves appear even whiter, smoother, and sexier. On her feet were a pair of cream-colored lace-up peep-toe peep-toe high-heeled shoes.
I like my wife to wear high heels, and I've bought her several pairs in various styles and colors, mostly 7-8 centimeters high. But she really doesn't like wearing them, always saying they rub her feet and are inconvenient to walk in. She only wears them occasionally for special occasions, which makes her already slender figure look even more graceful, almost 170 centimeters tall. Her long, wavy hair cascades down her cheeks, exuding maturity and charm. Her face is lightly made up, fair with a rosy glow, and her eyelashes are curled upwards with curlers. Her large eyes are captivating, yet also reveal a pure and innocent charm. A fragrant breeze wafts by, and I'm completely mesmerized.
My wife, seeing my dazed expression, chuckles: "What's wrong with you? What are you staring at? Is it okay or not?"
I've forgotten what I was talking about: "What do you mean, 'Is it okay or not'?"
My wife says: "It's just that I'm wearing this to dinner."
"It's over," I sighed inwardly. My wife was wearing high-heeled stockings, not the black ones J preferred, but enough. Just as J had predicted, everything was going according to plan, everything was irreversibly progressing, everything…
I was already completely disoriented, my face probably looked a little unnatural. My wife seemed to notice something was wrong and was about to say something, but I steeled myself, immediately putting on a smile and saying, "It's fine, just your lips are a little dry and look a bit dark." My wife turned and went back inside. When she came out a while later, she had a light layer of lipstick on her lips, making them look luscious. My heart ached again, a mix of emotions welling up inside me. I didn't know whether to smile or not.
I lied to the child, saying that one of my students' parents wanted to invite her to dinner. As the whole family left, while the child went downstairs first, I hugged my wife tightly from behind, as if afraid of losing her. My wife turned around and asked what was wrong. My throat was dry, and my voice was hoarse: "Honey, eat slowly, don't rush back. I'm at home taking care of the child, nothing's wrong. Call me if you need anything."
My wife didn't seem to quite understand what I was saying. As we were about to go downstairs, I hugged her again and murmured, "Wife, I love you. I'll accept whatever you do."
She slapped my hand away: "Go away, what can I do? I'm just going to eat. I'll probably be back in a bit. Don't overthink it; the kids are waiting downstairs."
My wife had mentioned that J was staying at the Guangming Hotel when he came to Jinan, and the restaurant he was taking her to was also there. Perhaps J considered that my wife, being a well-known figure, knew many parents and children, and that eating out might lead to them bumping into each other. So, he chose to have her eat at the hotel.
There happened to be a McDonald's not far from the Guangming Hotel, and the kids had been clamoring for it. So, we took a taxi; I took the kids to eat Western food and dropped my wife off at the Guangming Hotel.
In the car, my wife's phone rang. She said a few words briefly, said she'd be there soon, and hung up. I guessed J had already made preparations, but perhaps he couldn't wait any longer and was calling to check on things.
In the blink of an eye, we arrived next to the Guangming Hotel. Because of the heavy traffic and difficulty parking, my wife hurriedly got out of the car with her small bag, waved to me, and walked into the hotel. Watching her receding figure, I felt as if the hotel was a lion's gaping maw, and my wife was like an unsuspecting little rabbit, hopping and skipping towards the bloodthirsty jaws.
What followed was a long, agonizing wait. The child ate McDonald's with relish, but I had no appetite. Time ticked by, and I constantly checked my phone, afraid of missing any information about J and my wife.

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Embarking on the path of cuckoldry 8

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