After cheating

One day after the Spring Festival, my wife accidentally discovered my affair. I admitted I was wrong.
A huge fight was inevitable, but to avoid divorce, I agreed to her conditions:
1. I had found another woman, so my wife had to find ten other men.
2. I had sex with this woman three times, so my wife had to have sex with thirty other men.
3. Until she had sex with thirty other men, I wasn't allowed to touch her.
I agreed.
That night, she dressed up carefully and went out, asking me to drive her to the city's most bustling bar street. We found a slow-rock bar, and she disappeared into the swaying lights.
The deafening music, the bizarre lights, the men and women dancing to the music—I finally spotted her. She was drinking with a strange man, chatting and seemingly having a great time. In the dim light, I could see her dreamy eyes.
They went onto the dance floor; the sexy music, the sexy moans, the people on the dance floor were intoxicated. They danced slowly, their bodies close. He held her, seemingly kissing her neck, his hands roaming over her body, caressing from her waist to her hips.
At 11 o'clock, they finally left the bar, got into a taxi, and disappeared into the night.
I suppressed my inner turmoil and dialed her number.
"Where are you?"
"To a hotel."
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for my first man." The call ended.
I dialed again, but there was no answer.
An hour later, my phone rang. No one spoke, but I could vaguely hear moans coming from the other end.
"Hello! Where are you?"
"Oh, so good, so big! So swollen!" A familiar voice. "Don't stop! Oh! So good! I can't take it anymore!"
In the darkness, only my lonely car headlights searched.

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After cheating

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