Deep Fake

by Jason Lenov

Pranked by his friends with a lewd video of his wife, Mike is astonished at his own reaction. He's even more shocked when his fiancee Magda, upon discovering his secret, is not completely aghast. She's even a little curious. Turns out Magda has a dirty side neither of them knew about. Mike surrenders to his naughty fantasy and to Magda's growing appetites as together they take the plunge into the world of wife-sharing.

Chapter One
I sat at the table pretending to watch Magda folding napkins. The warm spring sun was streaming through the window. The pleasant murmur of her voice as she attempted to educate me on the finer points of napkin origami sent tingles whispering down my back.
“Then you move this corner over here like so,” she said, picking up one edge of the napkin and moving it toward the other. “There,” she whispered. She peered over to the tablet propped up on the table and squinted, scanning the page for the next instruction.
Magda had picked up the hobby a few weeks earlier, insisting that she would fold each and every napkin for our small wedding reception herself. It would be a sign of respect and thanks to our guests for coming and helping us celebrate.
I had no interest in napkins or how to fold them. Gripping my attention were Magda’s abundant breasts. She had purchased a lovely new summer dress earlier that week. It was a modest piece with a lovely floral print. It hugged her curvy frame very pleasantly. And while the cut of the neckline showed only the slightest glimpse of cleavage there was not a dress in the world that could disguise or otherwise hide the shape of her chest.
She’d worn it to church that morning. It had distracted me and, doubtless, a number of other men in the congregation to the point that I couldn’t even recall what the sermon had been about.
Her breasts had been swaying gently from side to side with each fold she made. The sight continued to provide a distraction impossible to resist.
“Should we try a cone next?” Magda asked.
The question stirred me from my stupor. I drew in a breath and looked up into her big, blue eyes. “That sounds like a good idea,” I replied.
Magda smiled. An angelic, beatific smile that caused my heart to warm and swell all at once.
Each glance at her pretty face and curvy frame made me feel just sick with love for her.
She proceeded to take a third napkin and whisper the instructions she was reading from the table aloud.
My eyes fell to the hypnotic swaying of her chest and we spent a good ten minutes like that, each in our own worlds together.
“What are you looking at?”
The question sliced through my bubble like an ice pick and rattled my nerves. My eyes shot to hers. My cheeks flared red. “Napkins. You were…you were showing me how to fold the napkins,” I replied. A slow smile crept across her lips. She put her hands in her lap over the purple napkin she’d been fiddling with and the smile blossomed into a grin. “You were not looking at the napkin, Michael,” she said quietly, shaking her head.
I cleared my throat and tried to swallow my embarrassment.
Magda, while saintly and innocent in appearance was no ingenue. She knew men’s minds. She certainly knew mine.
“I was,” I lied. “You were just about to finish. It looks like a slide already,” I said, pointing to the napkin in her lap.
Magda turned her eyes down. She picked up the triangle of fabric, gave it a final pull, then set it on the kitchen table. “Except I wasn’t making a slide,” she said, eyeing her handiwork. “I was making a cone. This one is a slide,” she said, pointing to the triangular napkin standing next to it.” She turned to look at me again. Her smile was accusatory but playful.
The ember of lust I’d been nurturing in my nethers flickered into a flame.
“You were looking at my breasts.” Spoken in what she referred to as her “naughty voice.”
Naughty Michael and his naughty thoughts. She chided me about it often but never complained. I couldn’t stifle the smile and quick exhale that came with it. I stared right into those dazzling blue eyes. I shook my head, put an elbow on the table and propped my chin up on a fist. “You’re right,” I said. “I was looking at your breasts.” Magda shook her head.
The admonishment was, I knew from experience, designed to be seductive. Sometimes I felt like a mouse she’d caught and was playing with. It was exhilarating because the game always ended in my favour.
“We just made love last night,” she said. “I’m sorry,” I said, playing along. “I can’t help it. You’re so beautiful I can’t take my eyes off you.”
Her smile softened and her cheeks turned rosy at the compliment. “You’re sweet,” she replied. “But we’re supposed to be learning to fold napkins together so you can help me.” She ran her fingers along the tablecloth in front of the three beautifully folded napkins.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll try to do better. I’ll pay attention I promise,” I said, nodding to pretend like I meant it.
Magda shook her head causing her blonde curls to bounce along her shoulders. “Liar.”
I chuckled. She knew me better than that.
“Stand up,” she ordered.
Arousal crackled through me. Magda, my cherub-faced church mouse fiancee, was also the most pragmatic woman I’d ever met. And loving. I did as she’d asked and stood up from my chair.
Her eyes fell to my crotch. To where my cock was tenting my Sunday trousers. She lifted a hand, palm up, and crooked her finger three times beckoning me to her.
Again I complied. Shuffling forward until I was standing just two feet away from her.
She looked up into my eyes.
My heart melted at her stare.
“Take it out,” she whispered.
Oh god how I loved her. I unzipped my pants, undid my belt buckle and let them fall around my ankles. Reaching into my boxers I pulled out my rigid cock.