A Wife's Day

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

My Wife's Day

(Chapter 1) My wife is a primary school teacher, tall and voluptuous with a beautiful and dignified face. But perhaps you wouldn't expect that when she stands on the podium, lecturing earnestly, her graceful body beneath that elegant, well-fitting business suit is actually straining her thighs together—her vagina and uterus are filled with thick semen, gushing outwards.
A stream of semen has broken through the covering of her black lace panties, slowly flowing down her thighs. There is so much semen that it slightly swells her lower abdomen; the resulting pressure and the effort to tighten her vaginal walls give her waves of pleasure, a constant, slight trembling that originates from her vagina and rushes to her brain and entire body. My wife's face and skin turn flushed and hot; the feeling of being rubbed and sucked lingers on her full breasts, which are not wearing a bra, and her erect nipples stand out clearly against her outer clothing. Her voice grew increasingly seductive, accompanied by soft panting. Unfortunately, the children below the podium were oblivious, only the growing number of parents picking up their children outside the window could see it clearly. Unlike other classes where the parents were mostly elderly or women, the parents picking up my wife's children were all robust men. Even the male staff at the school showed unusual interest in this class. They knew perfectly well that my wife's current allure was the result of their efforts throughout the day, at different times and places, and that they would continue to try— I already knew that so much semen couldn't all be from me, although I'm quite capable myself. (Chapter Two) 7:00 As the light in the bedroom gradually brightened, my wife slowly woke up, lazily stretching her limbs. The feeling of our "battle" last night still lingered. She couldn't help but turn her head, looking at me still asleep, a shy and happy smile appearing on her beautiful face. We were from the same hometown and were classmates in university. At the time, I was the youngest in my class, and my wife was a year older than me. I had never been in a relationship before, and no one expected that she, known as the "department beauty," would be won over by a "greenhorn" like me. Most of my rivals were intimidated by her dignified, elegant, and aloof demeanor; they never even dared to hold her hand, and she had never even kissed me before. But I, with my headstrong impulsiveness and the half-baked knowledge of female psychology gleaned from the "sex education textbooks" I'd devoured in high school, gradually won her heart. I discovered that my wife actually had a vulnerable and submissive side; once you opened her heart, she would give herself completely. My wife came from a strict family, and her views on sex were very conservative. We started dating in our sophomore year, and it wasn't until my birthday in our final semester of senior year that she gave me her virginity, which she had treasured for over twenty years. At that moment, I felt like the happiest person in the world. After graduation, my wife returned to her hometown and became a teacher at a primary school in the county town. She loved her job. I worked in a government office for half a year before quitting and starting my own business. After a few years, I've achieved some success. With everything on track and more free time, we naturally got married, and we've been together for five years now. Over these five years, our sex life has been very fulfilling. My energy and desire are equally strong; I make love to my wife almost every day, always trying different methods. My wife, however, acts like it's her first time, maintaining a virginal reserve and shyness. She's so gentle and shy that it almost feels submissive. She accepts whatever I do, and this submissiveness sometimes makes me unsure whether she's willing or enduring, happy or in pain. But whatever it is, I crave that suffering expression and moaning from her. Those expressions and moans always give me a sense of conquest, driving me to overwhelming climaxes! My wife is incredibly sexy without being lewd during sex. No matter how much I arouse her, or how excited she is, she never shows any sign of wantonness. I can only tell from her alluring eyes, her burning skin, her swaying hips, her controlled breathing, and her rapidly secreting fluids that she is also enjoying herself. My wife never initiates anything; she only gently reminds me with her watery eyes and blushing cheeks. And whenever I need her, she's always willing to oblige, making me happy as if it were her duty in our sex life. However, she has her own principles: I must wear a condom because we don't want children yet. Even if I'm impatient, my wife will gently but firmly put one on for me. Furthermore, my wife dislikes oral and anal sex. Although I strongly urged her, she reluctantly tried once or twice, but never succeeded. She considered it "dirty" and painful. Aside from that, my wife is truly an excellent sexual partner. The wonderful blend of elegance and sexiness in her makes me feel an uncontrollable desire whenever I see her. Just like last night, we did it from 10 pm to midnight, leaving our marks everywhere from the living room to the bedroom. I changed positions at least seven or eight times, from missionary to doggy style. My wife's breathing and moans became more and more rapid, and her vaginal contractions became more and more powerful. When I carried her to the large mirror and showed her her flushed cheeks and sweaty skin, my wife let out a soft, nasal sound, closed her eyes tightly, but her thighs squeezed me even tighter. I could clearly feel the increased grip on my penis inside her vagina, and I couldn't help but ejaculate as I thrust in as deep as I could. Although separated by a thin membrane, the heat hitting her uterus still elicited a suppressed moan from her. Love fluid gushed from her vaginal walls, and we both reached orgasm simultaneously. In her dazed state, my wife bit my shoulder, and we collapsed limply onto the bed, too exhausted to even wipe away the sweat and love fluid, falling into a deep sleep in each other's arms… My wife snapped out of her reverie, leaned down, and kissed the teeth marks on my shoulder with her full, rosy lips, smiling wryly. She gently lifted the blanket, revealing my erect penis, still wrapped in last night's condom, the tip filled with white semen. A blush rose on my wife's face. She gently bit her lip, still holding the base of my penis with her left hand, her slender, white fingers gently and slowly rolling the condom upwards, careful not to wake me. The condom reached the tip, and it seemed the overflowing semen was about to spill out. My wife grasped my penis with one hand, and with the other, she grabbed a tissue from beside the pillow, wrapped it around the glans, and gently pulled and twisted her wrist, catching the entire bag of semen without spilling a drop. This was a "homework" my wife did almost every morning, a routine she was practically adept at. However, the stimulation of her sensitive area still made my body twitch a few times. My wife smiled softly, shrugged her bare shoulders, and got out of bed carrying my bag of "seeds." I hesitated, thinking of putting on my underwear before going to the bathroom, but seeing the glistening, dried semen between her legs, she remained naked and tiptoed out of the bedroom. As her soft footsteps disappeared outside the bedroom door, I suddenly opened my eyes. I had been awake for a while; I always woke up at this time because I knew my pure and dignified wife was about to begin her day of sexual bliss. She meticulously concealed all of this from me, striving to maintain her image as a virtuous wife in my eyes, because her heart was pure, her love for me had never wavered, and her actions were all for my reputation, all to preserve this marriage she cherished. However, what my wife didn't know was that all of this was meticulously planned and orchestrated by me, and that I controlled everything. (Chapter 3)

It was 7:10, not far from class time, and the tireless chatter of elementary school students drifted in through the window. Because my wife's school is in the city center, a very convenient location, we decided to settle there when the school built faculty apartments. This makes commuting very convenient for her; she can sleep in at least half an hour longer in the morning and go directly to the classroom on time.
Through the half-open bedroom door, I could hear the sound of running water from the bathroom—my wife was washing away the traces of our lovemaking the night before. My wife is very clean and has always been in the habit of showering twice a day. Back in college, I joked that her daily shower pass money was enough for me to buy a plate of cheat sheets in the cafeteria, for which she called me a little stinky pig for barely showering a few times a month. Lately, she's been showering even more frequently, and I know why, of course.
There's a bathtub in the ensuite bathroom, but my wife doesn't want to wake me, so she goes to the outer bathroom to shower, which is convenient for me; I can prepare myself at my own pace every day. I got out of bed, quickly washed away the love fluid my wife had left on my lower abdomen in the bathroom, put on a nightgown, and quietly walked into the living room.
Normally, my wife would be taking a shower and wouldn't hear any noise outside, but to make this game last longer and provide greater stimulation, I decided to let her think I was still dreaming.
I checked the swivel lock on the bathroom door; it probably wasn't locked from the inside. That wasn't important; what mattered was the security door. I gently retracted the bolt of the security door lock, leaving it slightly ajar—enough for anyone with ulterior motives. My wife's memory wasn't very good; if I said she'd forgotten to lock the door properly, she wouldn't suspect a thing.
Now it was time to put my secret weapon, which I'd spent several days setting up, to use. I'd bought these pinhole cameras and surveillance cameras during a business trip to the provincial capital, and installing them discreetly, despite not being an expert in the field, had been a real struggle.
Although I had already tested the angles yesterday afternoon, I still checked each of the pinhole cameras again: the two in the living room were on the TV wall and next to the picture frames above the sofa, looking like nail heads; the one on the balcony was on top of the storage cabinet, and the one in the kitchen was on top of the range hood—all places my wife couldn't see or notice. The one in the bathroom was next to the water heater pipe; that's the one I needed most right now. As for the cameras in the bedroom and study, it seemed I wouldn't be able to use them until the afternoon at the earliest. With
everything ready, I eagerly returned to the bedroom, took the monitor from my bedside table, and, with a pounding heart, turned it on and switched to the camera in the bathroom…
The image quality was superb! The position, about 30 centimeters above a person's height, was a perfect angle. Perhaps because the water temperature wasn't set too high, there was very little steam, and the camera's automatic dimming and focusing functions were excellent. My wife's body was clearly visible on the screen; it seemed my money was well spent on this system.
My wife was engrossed in washing her lower body, so her face wasn't visible, but her curvaceous figure was even more alluring in the picture: her firm breasts, like two trembling milk jellies, jiggled with her movements, and her two bright red nipples, like cherries on jelly, were exceptionally fresh and eye-catching; her slender yet strong waist swayed gracefully, her flat abdomen was without an ounce of fat, and her full, rounded buttocks seemed to defy gravity, perking up.
The most attractive features of a woman were combined so perfectly in my wife! This was all thanks to her long-term exercise, and of course, not just in bed. My wife had practiced rhythmic gymnastics since childhood, and even won a medal at the provincial university games!
My wife had strong muscles and taut skin, and long legs uncommon among East Asians, which made her genitals appear high, perfectly meeting the requirements of a fine art model. Her fair skin was almost flawless, and her long, black hair, wet, shone with a glossy sheen.
This starkly contrasting, voluptuous female body—was this my daily bedmate, the "public wife" I'd intentionally created for the students' parents and teachers, the "public toilet" any man in the neighborhood could use at will? But
when she looked up, I saw a face radiating pure elegance, bright eyes—not a trace of harlotry. This beautiful body was like a spring scene from a classical oil painting, utterly captivating. I couldn't help but ask myself, was everything I was doing right
? Undoubtedly, my perverse desires were greatly satisfied; I was almost constantly excited by my wife's physical encounters. But what about my wife? Was this deception or harm? How would she react if she knew that most of the men who had slept with her were arranged by her husband? However, I seemed to have noticed that my wife was gradually getting used to this continuous cycle of immoral sex, deriving increasing pleasure from it. So, we're a win-win situation
? My thoughts drifted further and further away, and I didn't even notice the man's hand appearing on the small screen in the living room. He gently pulled open the slightly ajar security door, then closed it again with practiced ease, turning and walking straight to the bathroom without even glancing around. It was clear this was a regular; he knew my wife and I'd perfectly well, knowing exactly when I was sleeping in the bedroom and my wife was showering in the bathroom.
I was still lost in thought when the man reached the bathroom door and tried to turn the lock. Suddenly, I snapped back to reality. All thoughts of remorse vanished, replaced by a powerful urge to spy on my wife's infidelity. Men, after all, are driven by their penises!
I focused on the screen. From this angle, I could only see the man's back as he stood outside the bathroom. I gritted my teeth in disappointment, but I wouldn't have to wait long; the bathroom camera would soon come in handy.
Before this system was installed, although I opened the security door almost every morning, and every few days a lecherous man would sneak in, I could only strain my ears to eavesdrop through the door.
Sometimes I could tell from his tone and accent, and sometimes from the name my wife blurted out in surprise, but more often I could only hear my wife's surprised voice, the man's lustful, impatient, and lewd voice, short, strained sounds of resistance and struggle, my wife's soft pleas being covered by a gag; then the sounds of flesh colliding, the man's excited, heavy breathing, and my wife's increasingly clear but deliberately suppressed moans.
Later, there were the strange sounds of the man thrusting with all his might, followed by brief silence, and finally, the sound of my wife sighing and washing up after he hurriedly closed the door and left; and of course, the sound of my wife's footsteps as she went to the bedroom door to listen for any movement.
I could only guess who it was, and then spend the whole day lining up all the male faculty and staff in the school: I knew that at this time in the morning, it couldn't be a student's parent or anyone else. This frustrating deduction led me to decide to install this camera system with sound; today, I would finally fulfill my long-held wish to "live stream"!
The figure on the screen turned the bathroom doorknob—sure enough, it wasn't locked! It seemed that my wife had lowered her guard because I hadn't opened the door as usual these past few days due to the installation plan (she occasionally remembers to close the door when I leave it open, which is when the poor lecherous man outside suffers).
Hearing the sound of the handle turning, my wife, who was drying herself with a large towel on the bathroom screen, instinctively stopped. I saw a complex expression on her face: surprise, worry, suspicion, resistance, and perhaps a glimmer of hope.
The doorknob turned completely, and the door was slowly pushed open, revealing a man's figure in front of my wife and the camera.

===
...
On the one hand, within a single day, one must not only describe the current situation but also clearly explain the past events. This inevitably requires careful consideration of the length and structure of each section, something that someone as inexperienced as myself cannot easily grasp. This "balance" has been troubling me for days, preventing me from continuing.
On the other hand, I lack the necessary skills in writing about "techniques" and "processes," and my inspiration dries up after a few strokes. I truly admire the eloquence and innovative writing styles of all the great writers! If you find the H section too dry, I apologize in advance!
Thank you all for your support of my first work; your responses are my motivation to persevere!
(Chapter 4)
7:20 "Cheng Bin," "Teacher Cheng!" My wife and I called out simultaneously, except that I was in the bedroom, just inches away, facing this man who was "secretly" raping my wife through a webcam, while my wife was naked in our own bathroom, facing this man who was not her husband.
The familiar, work-like address of "Teacher Cheng's wife" slipped out, but her hands instinctively rose to cover her ample breasts with a towel. Her fair body trembled slightly as if suddenly chilled, and her full buttocks and smooth shoulders, facing the camera, contracted sharply upwards, making her tall, slender figure resemble a frightened kitten.
I had overheard countless instances of her sudden reaction to a lecherous man, or heard vivid "reports" from the men I had arranged, but this was the first time I had witnessed it so vividly before my eyes. Such a strong psychological stimulus caused my penis to instantly harden, like lightning.
My surprise wasn't because Cheng Bin was a newcomer to the "watering" group; he had entered my wife's body at least dozens of times before. What surprised me was the coincidence. The first man I arranged for my wife was Cheng Bin. He was the first among all the lustful men in the neighborhood to have my wife's body, and now, he's the first person to have sex with her right under my nose after I installed the hidden camera. How could he be so lucky
? "Yeah, it's me. Happy now?" Cheng Bin said with a sly grin on the camera. He had already taken off his coat in the living room, and while talking, he was unbuckling his belt, which made him seem even more eager.
Actually, Cheng Bin was a pretty outstanding man, at least in appearance. He was a physical education teacher at my wife's school. His tall, muscular physique, honed by years of exercise, and his well-defined features and thick eyebrows made him exactly the kind of "prince" that women subconsciously crave. My choice of Cheng Bin as the first man to defile my wife's body was also based on this consideration:
As the first man besides her husband to forcibly possess her body, at least I couldn't cause her physical aversion; other reactions could be gradually calmed down. Moreover, as a woman with a normal human appreciation for beauty, I could see that my wife had a vague attraction to Cheng Bin, which made my planning even more exciting, giving me a strange impulse.
"What do you want to do? Get out!" my wife whispered, her heart clenching as if gripped tightly by a large hand
. She knew very well what was about to happen; this had happened countless times before. The man before her was the one who had caused her to become so promiscuous, the one who had taken her virginity, and all the men and penises that followed were pioneers set by this man!
Whether it was the education she received from childhood or her guilt towards her husband (actually, it was me who should feel guilty), everything should have made the wife hate Cheng Bin to the core. However, the wife couldn't explain what she was feeling: why did she feel a constant surge of desire that day? Why was her husband, who never drank, drunk that day? Why did Cheng Bin appear so conveniently when her heart was wavering? Why did she still have this inappropriate attraction to him now
? The wife didn't know that Cheng Bin was at most the first vibrator I had chosen for her; I was the one who created her into a "toilet"! Of course, the wife also didn't know why she had become so "lustful" and so desperate that day—because I had added a trace amount of aphrodisiac to the milk she drank that day.
"Why bother? We've been married for so long, what's there to be embarrassed about?" "You're shameless! My husband is next door, he's about to get up, get out of here!" the wife scolded in a low voice, her originally gentle and melodious voice becoming a little hoarse with tension.
Actually, she was also very conflicted. She wanted to use me to drive this man away, but she was also afraid that I would actually wake up, and then all her efforts and sacrifices would be in vain. Wasn't her first loss of virginity because she was afraid of waking her husband? That day, at the school's family social gathering, I deliberately drank too much, and Cheng Bin, whom I had arranged beforehand, drove me home.
Having received his instructions, he raped my wife on the sofa in the living room, while I, pretending to be drunk, excitedly listened to everything from the bed in the bedroom. Through the crack in the bedroom door, I stared intently at my wife's face, a mixture of grief and suppressed sensuality, as she was being raped, filled with guilt and excitement.
"Don't worry about your husband, he's fast asleep. He has no idea that his wife is cheating on him. You're not really going to wake him up, are you?" Cheng Bin knew his wife's weakness and deliberately raised his voice. He had already taken off his clothes, and a thick, hard penis was trembling between his legs—it was about to enter my wife's body!
The camera focused on Cheng Bin's exceptionally strong physique. His bronze skin taut over his undulating muscles, exuding a powerful masculine scent and allure. Even I envied him for this; although I was a key defender on my university's football team, my physical abilities couldn't compare to his.
His wife, as expected, was defeated by this seemingly infallible phrase. Her legs went weak, and she involuntarily took two steps back. Cheng Bin seized the opportunity, stepping forward to embrace her fair body. A strong masculine aura instantly enveloped her. This familiar scent, the powerful physique, and the internal struggle between desire and morality within her sent shivers down her spine, her beautiful eyes becoming misty.
She knew what was about to happen, but her heart instinctively resisted, clinging to the last vestige of purity within her soul. Each time felt like the first time she was raped by another man. Each time, she tried her best to resist—to resist the man's penis and her own physical needs, even though she knew how futile that resistance was, especially when facing this strong man holding her tightly in his arms.
The show was finally about to begin! In the bedroom, I was restless with excitement, my penis rock hard. Through the high-efficiency camera, in the bathroom outside, my wife's fair and slender body was tightly intertwined with Cheng Bin's bronzed, muscular physique. The white towel was still limply held against her chest. Cheng Bin ripped the towel off, and his hot pectoral muscles pressed against my wife's high, full breasts without any obstruction.
My wife couldn't help but let out a soft "Ah!" Her slender waist was held tightly by Cheng Bin's arms, unable to move. Her upper body instinctively leaned back, forming a taut bow on the screen in front of me. Even through the microphone and headphones, I could still hear the multiple meanings in that soft cry.
The wife futilely tried to pry Cheng Bin's arm from around her waist with one hand, while her other hand, having finally managed to break free, weakly pushed against his chest. But to me, it seemed more like a feigned resistance.
Perhaps all men possess a latent animalistic nature; the wife's resistance only fueled Cheng Bin's intense desire. Despite having already possessed this woman's body many times, how could such beautiful flesh ever tire him? The thrill of defiling another man's wife
... Especially the knowing full well that this woman's husband was next door, perhaps even eavesdropping (I never imagined I was watching!), made Cheng Bin's penis as hard as a rock, thrusting back and forth between his wife's long legs. The wife weakly clamped her thighs together, hoping this would preserve her last line of defense.
Cheng Bin knew full well that in this environment and under his assault, his wife's resistance wouldn't last long—she was already breathing slightly heavily. He turned her small head and kissed her full, rosy lips. The stubble of her beard brushed against her smooth, tender face, making him feel aroused, but his wife kept her lips tightly pressed together, letting Cheng Bin's mouth ravage her face.
Cheng Bin smiled lewdly and shifted his target: one hand still held his wife's waist, controlling her feeble resistance, his fingers not idle, constantly kneading the firm skin on her slender waist. His other hand followed her sharp, smooth shoulders and back down to her full, slightly upturned buttocks, caressing her plump flesh. The rich, fleshy sensation in his hands stimulated both of their minds, and their breathing became heavy.
Cheng Bin lowered his head, skillfully finding his wife's breast with his lips. He extended his tongue and licked it incessantly, occasionally sucking on the nipple or flicking it with his tongue. His wife's heavy breasts trembled with the movement of his tongue, a current flowing from her breasts throughout her body. Her rosy nipples gradually became engorged and erect.
His wife's hands weakly pushed against Cheng Bin, her head tilting back limply, her long black hair swaying like willow branches with the man's movements. The sensations in her body grew stronger, but her consciousness slowly blurred. She murmured as if in a dream, "No... like this, quickly... let go... me... ah..."
A continuous stream of pleasure surged within her. Her two long, white thighs unconsciously contracted and rubbed together. Her untouched genitals became sensitive, her vagina burning hot. His wife could even feel a trace of love fluid quietly secreting.
Her breathing grew increasingly seductive, and Cheng Bin sensitively noticed this. His hands, which had been encircling her waist, slowly released their hold and moved towards his wife's lower body. His fingers gently tugged at the soft pubic hair, rubbing the tender flesh of her vaginal opening. His wife slightly retreated, as if trying to avoid the intrusion of this hand—not her husband's—on her private, sensitive area, but Cheng Bin's fingers, like a nimble multi-headed snake, followed closely, rubbing his wife's genitals even more greedily.
His technique was quite skillful; he deliberately didn't penetrate her vagina, but instead provided continuous stimulation to her vulva. His wife's labia slowly became engorged with blood, slightly parting, releasing a faint scent of vaginal fluid; her clitoris gradually hardened under Cheng Bin's skillful touch, protruding from the protective barrier of her labia, further attracting his fingers to attack and flick it repeatedly.
Each of Cheng Bin's advances sent ripples through his wife's nervous system. Her body writhed more and more violently; even on the monitor, I could clearly see her skin flush crimson, a blush of desire rising on her beautiful face as she twisted and turned. Her suppressed moans grew increasingly soft and seductive, striking my heart through the headphones.
His wife's entire vagina became burning hot, as if even her uterus had turned into semi-molten lava. More love fluid secreted from her vagina, wetting Cheng Bin's palm. Cheng Bin wiped away the viscous liquid, smelled it, and even I could almost smell that familiar, sweet fragrance.
Cheng Bin held his hand, brimming with love fluid, in front of his wife's eyes. "Look," he whispered in her ear, "you're so wet. You need it too, don't you? What are you pretending for?"
Unexpectedly, even in her dazed state of mind, his wife retained a sliver of consciousness. What Cheng Bin perceived as flirtatious words ignited her shame. Instinctively, she avoided the fluids she herself had secreted, using her last ounce of willpower to pull herself out of the vortex of lust.
"I was raped, how can I feel this way?" His wife twisted her body, trying to break free from Cheng Bin's embrace. "Oh...please...please...let...me go...ah..." This tearful, gasping voice was like a Viagra to any man; both Cheng Bin and I became erect as if on command. I could only restrain myself with my hands, while Cheng Bin's penis pounded against his wife's lower abdomen, like the sounding of a final assault.
His excellent athleticism came in handy; his movements were swift, grabbing his wife's arms and pushing her against the wall, stabilizing her struggling body. My wife, panting, writhed and weakly cried out, "What...what are you going to do? Let me go..."
"What are you going to do? We've done it so many times already, what do you want me to do?" Cheng Bin leered, using his knee to pry open her tightly clenched thighs. A menacing penis followed, thrusting between her legs. This penis was so erect, pointing upwards without needing any support, its glans, swollen purple with heat and lust, automatically pressing against my wife's vulva.
To be honest, because Cheng Bin was taller than me, his penis was also larger. Finally, I could see another man's penis inside my wife's vagina, and this penis was even bigger than mine, making me even more excited! I suppressed my pounding heart and aching penis, trembling as I zoomed in: Cheng Bin's penis moved back and forth between my wife's thighs, the vaginal fluid wetting it, gleaming silver under the light and the high-resolution lens.

The wife kept writhing, which in turn smeared Cheng Bin's penis with her own secretions. His penis, glistening with the fluid, moved in and out, wetting her thick pubic hair. His glans moved against her vulva, occasionally parting her labia, teasing her sensitive clitoris, and even penetrating her vaginal opening. Each time, the wife tensed up, as if her city had fallen.
The lewd atmosphere in the air grew stronger, and the three men caught in the torrent of lust began to change: I, sitting in the bedroom holding the monitor and rubbing my penis, and Cheng Bin, embracing his wife in the bathroom, both grew increasingly hard, while the wife being raped grew increasingly limp: "Ah... let... go... stop... oh... oh..." The words of resistance from her red lips gradually turned into seductive gasps and moans, and her two white, tender thighs unconsciously spread wider and wider.
Faced with such a beautiful and alluring female body, Cheng Bin could no longer restrain himself. He freed one hand and aimed his penis, as hard as an iron rod, at his wife's moist and smooth vaginal opening, slowly pushing the swollen, mushroom-like glans into her vagina. His wife's body seemed to be lifted up, her beautiful face, with its delicate red lips slightly parted, uttering an "Oh..." sound.
Cheng Bin's glans entered my wife's vagina. The tightness of his lower body from years of gymnastics training and the fiery touch surged through his sensory organs like an electric current. He recklessly thrust his hips forward, and his hot, hard penis plunged deep into my wife's vagina.
"He finally went in!" Seeing someone else's penis enter my wife's body for the first time, I actually felt a sense of accomplishment. Caught up in extreme excitement, neither Cheng Bin nor I noticed that at this moment, my wife, whose lower body was being thrust into by his penis, murmured a sentence.
If the microphone were any more sensitive, I would have heard the unfaithful wife say, "Husband... I'm sorry..."

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