Removing My Cheating Husband's Manhood

While driving through the underground parking garage, I saw a handprint reflected in the car window.

My husband had borrowed this car a few days ago, so I called him.

“What did you take the Cullinan in the garage for?”

A gentle voice came from the other end of the line. “My college roommate, who's been abroad, is back. I drove to the airport to pick him up.”

I froze for two seconds, then said okay and hung up.

Comparing the size of the handprint, I realized his roommate's hand was even smaller than mine.