Encounter with my neighbor

We lay tangled on the bed for a long time after, the three of us still slick with sweat and cum. My breast forms rose and fell with my breathing. Her husband’s hand rested heavy on my thigh. She was the first to speak, voice low and almost conversational, as if she were sharing neighborhood gossip rather than something that would change everything.
“There are three other families in this colony,” she said, tracing a slow circle on my chest with one fingertip. “Same situation. Arranged marriages. Husbands who prefer men. Wives who learned to live with it.”
I turned my head to look at her. She was watching my face carefully.
“Block B, third floor. The accounts officer and his wife. He’s quiet, always travels for audits. She told me once, after two drinks at the colony women’s meeting, that he only finishes if she’s face-down and he can pretend. They haven’t had proper sex in four years.”
Her husband made a small sound but didn’t interrupt.
“Then the couple in Block D, ground floor. The mechanical engineer. Tall, always in those pressed shirts. His wife is younger than me. She said he keeps a bottle of the same silicone gel I use in his bedside drawer. She found messages once—nothing explicit, just enough. She cried the first time she told me. Now she just shrugs.”
She shifted closer, her thigh sliding over mine.
“And the family in Block A, top floor. The senior chemist and his wife. Two children already in hostel. He stays late at the plant more nights than not. She told me last month that she walked in on him once with a junior from the lab. They both looked at her and said nothing. The next morning he acted like it never happened. She still serves him breakfast.”
Silence settled for a moment. Outside, a scooter passed on the colony road. Inside, the only sound was the soft chime of my anklets when I moved my foot.
“They all know about each other,” she continued. “Not in detail. Just enough. The wives talk when the men are on shift. We recognized the same look. The same careful distance. The same expensive gel.”
Her husband finally spoke, voice rough. “And now they know about you.”
She smiled that private smile again and looked at me.
“Not yet. But they will. If you want them to.”
I felt my cock twitch against her thigh, already stirring again at the thought. Four wives. Four husbands who preferred men. An entire quiet network inside the staff colony, all of them living behind the same closed doors, the same polite dinner conversations, the same long shifts.
She leaned in and kissed the corner of my mouth, smearing what was left of my lipstick.
“Next Friday,” she murmured. “The accounts officer’s wife is coming for tea. She already asked if the new junior engineer might join us. I told her you would look very pretty in a sari.”
Her husband’s hand tightened on my thigh.
I didn’t answer at once. I only reached down, found his cock still half-hard and sticky with the evidence of what we had just done, and wrapped my fingers around it.
“Tell her I’ll be there,” I said.