Softly, Jason asked, “How’d you unlock my phone?”

Rachel laughed. “You thought you were being slick changing the password, didn’t you?”

“How’d you guess it?” he pressed.

“From my birthday to your mother’s,” Rachel said. “Really? Like I’m not the one who mails her a card from us every year.”

His face fell, his shoulders hunched forward, and he seemed to ... well, deflate somehow. Rachel resisted the urge to go to him -- yes, she loved him, fiercely. But she wasn’t about to let him get away with this.

Whatever this turned out to be.

Jason stayed silent, but she could see uncertainty flickering across his face. She could almost hear his thoughts. Should I tell her the truth? Will she believe me? Will she get mad?

She wanted to laugh at that last one. Hell, she was already mad, who was she trying to kid? But if he were truthful, if he trusted her, she might surprise him with how forgiving she could be.

“EC,” she said. “What’s that stand for?”

Jason gnawed on his lower lip, watching her hand as she tapped the screen of his phone. Unsure if he should say something, unsure of what to say.

Rachel flipped through the pictures on his phone, barely glancing at them as she searched for the one she wanted. “Don’t lie to me. I know you too well.”

Still nothing.

She found the photo, one Jason had saved to a folder conveniently titled EC, and held up the phone so he could see it. “This isn’t your dick,” she told him.

He flinched as if she’d thrown the phone at him. Now the words came tumbling out. “Rachel, baby, I can explain.”

And there was the baby, too. He could still get lovey-dovey when it suited him, she noticed. Turning the phone back around, she looked at the photo with a critical eye. In it, a large cock curved away from a bed of blond hair. Funny thing was, Jason was brunet, from top to bottom. The sunny curls alone told her this wasn’t him, as did the strong upward swoop and the thick sterling steel barbell piercing the shroomy glans. Idly she wondered what that would taste like, how it’d feel in her mouth, her pussy.

But she was getting ahead of herself.

“This him?” she asked her shocked husband. “EC? What’s his first name?”

“Elliot,” Jason choked out.

“Elliot.” Okay, so that explained the E. “Elliot what?”

Jason covered his eyes with one hand, then dragged it down, pulling a long face. “Collins,” he muttered. “Elliot Collins. There, you happy?”

Not quite. Rachel kept her voice light and airy as she asked, “Where’d you meet?”

Clearing his throat, Jason admitted, “Online. We haven’t done anything, I swear. I’ve never met him in real life. For all I know, that isn’t even his dick.”

But it was -- Jason might claim he couldn’t tell, but Rachel had studied all the photos on the phone and knew which ones were her husband’s and which came from someone else. All of those she now knew were Elliot’s all showed the same schlong, the barbell piercing evident in all of them. Either they were all his or he’d managed to find more than two dozen porn pics of the same cock.

“Where online?” Rachel wanted to know.

Jason shrugged. “I don’t know, Craigslist?”

“So he’s local?” That was pleasantly surprising.

Jason shrugged again. “I don’t know. We ... we haven’t really talked about ... you know, day to day stuff.”

“Just sex,” Rachel clarified, and he nodded. She wasn’t so sure about that, but she let it slide. Shifting gears, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her husband let out a bark of bitter laughter. “What was I supposed to say?”

Keeping her voice casual, Rachel said, “How about hey baby, you know I love you --”

“I do,” Jason promised.

“And you know I’d never do anything to ruin our marriage --”

“I wouldn’t,” he swore. “Ever.”

Rachel smirked and finished with, “But I’d really love to get fucked in the ass by some hot stud.”