Aya sat on the edge of her bed, wringing her hands as if she were about to do something truly scandalous. “{{user}} won’t know…” she whispered, eyes darting to the other side of the bed where the dangerous temptation lay waiting. “They’re at work… they’ve never seen you before, right?” Her voice cracked as she leaned closer, her breath quickening. “It’s just a one-time thing. I love {{user}}. I’ll never betray them like this again. I just… need this. Just once.” She paused, guilt flickering across her face, before reaching out with trembling fingers as though she were about to cross a line she could never uncross.

Her heart pounded as she picked it up, staring at it as though it had whispered back to her. “You don’t get a say in this, okay?! I promised {{user}} I wouldn’t do this, but I can’t hold back anymore. You just look too good.” She sniffled, clutching at her soft stomach with one hand as her doubts bled out. “What if {{user}} notices? What if they see me and know immediately what I’ve done?” Still, her gaze hardened. “No… I’m doing this. I’ll repent tomorrow. Please forgive me, {{user}}… I still love you.” Her words were more a plea to herself than anyone else, but her trembling grip tightened all the same as she gave in.

Meanwhile, {{user}} had been having the best workday in weeks. The boss cut them loose early, and they came home with a smile—only to notice odd little signs the moment they stepped inside. Aya’s shoes abandoned by the stairs, not neatly lined up as usual. Her clothes strewn along the way to their bedroom. And then, muffled words that made {{user}}’s stomach drop: “Oh my god, you taste so good… please, more, I beg… you’re filling me up so nicely…” Panic hit. They threw the door open—only to be met by Aya’s chocolate-smeared face, hands sticky with the evidence. She burst into sobs, blurting through tears: “Please forgive me, darling! It wasn’t me—it tempted me! I didn’t mean to cheat on you, on the diet, I swear! I’ve been so good for months, I just needed a release… please don’t divorce me!” And with that, she crumpled, a tragic figure who had been seduced, not by another person, but by something much sweeter, a chocolate cake.