[Adultery Poison] (01-02) Author: nnntr

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

Author: nnntr
Word Count: 6333

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Pornography-1

scenario1

9:20 PM.

I was restless on the sofa, a wave of nausea rising from my lower abdomen to my throat, accompanied by slight cramps and
a feeling of vomiting, like a rubber snake wriggling in my stomach.

My wife was taking a shower in the bathroom, the exhaust fan making a soft hum, the faint scent of shower gel wafting through the air. The thick curtains in the living room
were drawn , and a boring variety show was playing on the TV. Everything seemed just
like countless other ordinary and beautiful nights before, except that tonight there was a second man in the house.

The man was patrolling the master bedroom like a dog that had entered a strange yard, constantly sniffing around.
He sat on the big bed, looking with interest at the bottles and jars my wife had on the bedside table. He stood up, opened the wardrobe,
and rummaged through his wife's underwear one by one. After a while, he chose two pairs of panties: a black lace thong and
a burgundy silk t-back. These were the kinds of panties his wife was usually too shy to wear in public, only using them
to add spice during sex.

The man turned to me and said, "Hey, which one do you think your wife should wear when we're having sex?"

I wanted to make a joke, but my throat was dry and I couldn't utter a word. I picked up
a beer from the coffee table and took a sip. "...Whatever you like. She has fair skin, so black is fine."

The man smiled happily, sniffed the black panties, then opened the bedside table and asked me without turning around,
"Do you usually use condoms or does your wife take pills?" Before I could answer, he found an opened
condom, tore off a piece, and threw it onto the pillow along with the panties.

The man looked up and saw the wedding photo hanging on the opposite wall. In the frame, his wife was wearing a red cheongsam, her features beautiful,
smiling sweetly at me.

"Your wife may not have big breasts, but she has a great waist and a nice butt
. She looks really good in a cheongsam, especially that big ass, it's fucking amazing," the man said. "You mentioned last time that you've only been married for two years?"

"Yeah, but we've been together since college."

"Your wife has only been with you, right? Do you two do it often?" "

She lost her virginity to me. We did it quite a lot before marriage, but not so much after. About once every two weeks."

"You're so good at holding back. If she were my wife, I'd fuck her until she couldn't close her legs every night.
You should fuck such a beautiful wife as much as you want. Women want to fuck more the more you fuck them." The man spoke with a slight Northeastern accent. "Your wife has been showering
for a long time and hasn't come out yet. I'll go check on her," the man said, taking off his t-shirt and shorts and
tossing them on the floor, revealing his hairy belly and bulging underwear,
the shape of his penis clearly visible. The man looked down, smiled sheepishly, scratched his crotch, and walked towards the bathroom.

I downed my beer in one gulp, struggling to pull myself up from the sofa, and
followed .

He stood at the bathroom door, turned back and asked, "I'm coming in now, are you sure you're ready?"

I swallowed hard and nodded.

He turned the handle, finding the door locked. The sound of water in the bathroom suddenly stopped, and my wife's trembling
voice , "...Who's there?"

He patted my shoulder, and I managed to squeeze out a voice, "...It's nothing, open the door..."

After a rustling sound, the bathroom door opened. My wife, wrapped in a towel, peeked out from behind the door, her
wet hair tied in a bun at the back of her head, her hands timidly clutching the towel knot at her chest. Her face was flushed, and she
seemed to be trembling slightly, like a frightened little animal. The man blocked the door with his hand, looked his wife up and down, then
took a smug sniff. "Fuck, she smells so good, sister-in-law, let me in and shower with you." He then pulled down
his underwear, revealing a hard, dark penis, the head of which, the size of an egg, pointed directly at his wife. His wife quickly
turned her face away. "It's not like I haven't seen it in videos before, what's there to be embarrassed about, hahaha." The man
squeezed , shoved the underwear into my hand, and then closed the door behind him.

My mind went blank, as if it had exploded. Blood rushed to my head, and all I could hear was the pounding of
my heart . After a long while, I could vaguely hear sounds from inside the bathroom.

The sound of water.

"Sister-in-law, turn around and let me see. Don't be shy. We've been chatting on QQ for so long.
I've seen all your breasts and pussy."

"..."

"Let go of your hands and let me see your breasts."

"..."

"Your breasts aren't big, but your nipples are so big. Did your husband suck them? Haha, your nipples are so
red, like cherries. Give me a bite."

"...Don't..."

(Sound of water)

"Your nipples are hard, like wood. Stop pretending. Come wash my dick." "

...I don't want to..."

"Your husband told me you love cleanliness. You always make him wash his dick for ages before we have sex. This time, you
wash mine."

"..."

"Yes, use lots of shower gel. Your little hands are so soft and smooth, damn. Is my dick big?"

"...Big..."

My heart started pounding again. My wife always complained that my
penis . If I went in too deep, she would complain. I'm only about 14cm tall, while men are at least 18cm
, with even larger glans. My wife has only ever had one penis with her. Her vagina is naturally tighter than other women's; even
when she's aroused, you can only see a pencil-thick opening when you part her labia.
I wonder if she'll frown and whisper in pain when she's with another man. Thinking about how she's suffering under another man, her usually tightly wrapped, white
body being enjoyed by another man, I got hard. My penis was sticking out of my shorts;
I hadn't been this hard in a long time…

I wanted to rush into the bathroom, spread my wife's legs, and thrust in, but I knew she would
n't be comfortable if I went in. After hesitating, I held back and pressed my ear against the bathroom door again.

"That felt so good, damn. Do you usually give your husband a blowjob?"

"Sometimes…"

"Come on, give my cock a couple of rubs."

"…"

Only the sound of running water remained in the bathroom. There was no other sound for a long time. I squatted down and…
I strained to peek through the window; the room was shrouded in steam, and I could only vaguely make out my wife's snow-white figure crouching
between , her head seemingly moving back and forth. She was giving a man oral sex! I rarely enjoyed my wife's oral sex; I always
had to beg for a long time before she would take my penis in her mouth. I liked it when she sat on my chest with her back to me, her snow-white
buttocks raised high, exposing her vulva and anus, her face flushed as she bent down to suck my penis. After a few strokes, she would turn back and
French kiss me, spitting her saliva into my mouth. Now, however, my wife was licking another penis!

The man must have thrust too hard; the wife spat out his penis and coughed loudly. The water stopped, and the man squatted down and
said something to her. Then he pulled her up and led her a few steps toward the door. I quickly tiptoed back to the sofa,
but they didn't come out. The sound of a hairdryer started. After a while, the door opened, and the man came
out naked, his penis dangling between his legs, swinging with each step. The wife was still wrapped in a towel, her head bowed low,
her hand held by the man, following behind him. The two walked toward the master bedroom.

The man passed the sofa, stopped at the bedroom door, and turned back to ask the wife, "Is your husband coming in?" The wife,
whose head was already bowed, lowered it even further, shook her head, and gave a barely audible reply: "...Don't let him in..." The man
then turned to me, giving me a questioning look. I gripped the empty beer can tightly, forced a smile, and said,
"You two go in first, I'm going to take a shower." I then got up and walked toward the bathroom.

As I passed my wife, she suddenly grabbed my arm, buried her head in my chest, and whispered,
"...I'm scared..." I pressed my head against her hair, took a deep breath of her familiar scent, and said, "Don't be afraid, have fun.
Call me if you need anything, I'll be right outside." With that, I steeled myself and pushed my wife toward the man, then fled toward the bathroom. I
heard the bedroom door slam shut behind me, followed by a soft gasp from my wife.

The Poison of Lust - Part 2

I walked into the bathroom, my hands trembling as I turned on the tap, letting the cold water pour over my head. My face was still flushed,
my body burning hot. The thought of being in the same space where my wife had just given oral sex to a man caused my penis
to , almost touching my stomach. My perineum contracted in waves, pulling my lower abdomen upwards. A violent
urge to vomit surged in my throat, my vision blurred, and my field of vision narrowed to just two pairs of bathroom
slippers .

I think I'm poisoned, a poison called "wife-cuckolding." If it weren't for that trip six months ago, this
June night would surely have been as beautiful and uneventful as before.

My surname is Zhang, and my given name is as ordinary as my surname. I bet everyone knows someone with the
same . In my 29 years of unremarkable life, my greatest achievement is marrying my wife, Bai Lu.
Friends call her Xiao Bai (Little White). True to her name, my wife has snow-white, delicate skin, almost invisible pores, and
rarely needs to groom her armpit hair. My wife is tall and well-proportioned. She trained in ballet for a period in her youth, which gives her an exceptionally graceful and elegant
posture , with long, straight legs. However, the long-term training has also caused her to walk with a slight outward turn of her toes. To
correct this, she almost always wears high heels when she goes out, and when we walk arm in arm
, she's almost as tall as me. Ballet dancers are almost always slender and flat-chested, and my wife is no exception. She's 170cm tall, but her weight
has never exceeded 100 pounds. Her waist is only 1.8 feet, and her bust is only a B cup. However, below her slender waist are
two full, round, and beautiful buttocks, which perfectly satisfy my preference for buttocks over breasts.

My wife married me two years ago after graduating with her master's degree. She works at a state-owned research institution,
mainly doing some writing work. The pay is average, but it's a relatively relaxed job. Both sets of parents have been urging us to have a child
soon , but my wife feels she's still young, and I don't want a baby to disturb our life as
a couple yet.

At the end of last year, her company selected her to participate in an academic exchange in San Francisco, USA, for a week. My wife,
who had never been abroad before , was incredibly excited and started preparing for the trip well in advance. I was happy for her too,
so I took my annual leave to accompany her to the US.

We booked accommodation in advance on Airbnb, a 2-bedroom, 2-bathroom apartment near the UC Berkeley
venue , where we would share with the landlord, Tim. We met
Tim at the airport; he was about our age, a typical white guy from the San Francisco Bay Area, still
wearing shorts and a t-shirt even though it was December.

Tim drove us to Berkeley, a quiet
town , with streets neatly arranged around the school, lush and green everywhere. Tim led us
to our room on the second floor of the apartment; it was fairly clean and tidy. He apologized, saying
the bathroom was under repair, so we would have to share the bathroom on the first floor with him, but he would waive the cleaning fee,
and we could hitch a ride with him whenever we wanted during our stay. My wife is naturally easygoing and shy, always
hesitant , which I understand. So we settled in.

A couple of days ago, my wife went to a meeting at school early in the morning, while I wandered around the neighborhood alone. I got
to ; he was studying at UC Berkeley, usually leaving early and returning late, and we
got along very well.

The schedule after the conference was quite relaxed, so my wife and I wanted to take the opportunity to explore San Francisco. My wife
only brought a pair of black high heels to wear with her formal attire, which wasn't enough for long walks. The next evening after dinner, Tim
volunteered to drive us to a mall in the neighboring city of Richmond to buy my wife a pair of
sneakers.

At a foodlocker specializing in sports brands, my wife looked at the wall full of US-sized Nike and
Adidas shoes and didn't know which size to choose. Tim gestured for her to take off her high heels, saying he would help her with
the sizing. My wife looked embarrassed. After all, he was a foreign man she didn't know well, and she wasn't wearing stockings.
Taking off her shoes meant exposing her delicate, fair feet to strangers. She sat on a chair in the shop,
looking up at me with apprehension.

I was a little annoyed, thinking there were staff in the shop, and secretly blaming him for being so overly attentive. But then I remembered he
meant well; he had praised my wife's beauty whenever he had the chance a few days ago. Besides, Americans are generally
very outgoing , and I didn't want to be petty or lose face, so I nodded to my wife and gave her an encouraging
smile.

Bai Lu blushed and slowly took off her shoes, revealing her two snow-white feet. Although my wife was tall and slender,
her feet were only size 36. Before leaving the country, she had specially applied a bright orange-red nail polish to all ten of her toes, which further accentuated her...
Her feet were incredibly white and delicate, with high arches and insteps that looked as if they were coated with powder.
Ballet dancers are required to have high arches, but the rigorous training leaves marks such as deformed toes,
varicose veins, calluses, and scars. My wife hadn't had systematic training for many years, and she was usually quiet and
rarely exercised. With her careful maintenance, her feet were even more delicate than most women's.

My wife blushed as she handed the shoes to Tim, her bare feet momentarily unsure where to go. Always meticulous about cleanliness,
she hesitated before placing her bare feet directly on the ground. Instead, she curled her knees and placed her feet
diagonally on the chair, under her buttocks, her toes curling nervously, as translucent as lotus seeds just emerging from the water. Today,
my wife was still dressed in her formal attire for the meeting: a white chiffon blouse under her coat,
and a fitted black pencil skirt. The blouse was tucked into the skirt, emphasizing her slim waist and full hips.

Even after years of living together, seeing my wife so shy and bashful still left me momentarily stunned,
and I felt a sudden stirring in my lower body. Tim, holding my wife's high heels, stared intently at her feet,
his gaze lingering between her delicate toes and shapely buttocks.

I thought to myself, "Isn't this voyeurism?"... I was about to speak up to stop him, but a strange excitement welled up inside me.
Although I knew it was inappropriate, I swallowed my words and simply coughed. Tim seemed
to wake , giving me an embarrassed smile. He looked at the shoes in his hand—a pair of Sturtw
Eitzman black patent leather PUMPs with about three-inch heels. They were a birthday
gift ; she rarely wore them, only bringing them out for special occasions.

Tim glanced at the shoe size, looked back at the shoe rack, stared for a long time, then walked to the children's shoe section next door,
picked up a pair of the most fashionable Nike barefoot running shoes, and knelt down beside his wife's legs .

Tim said to his wife, " Lulu, you have gone to such small feet, only shoes for big kids could fit you." He gave his wife a bright smile, " Let me help you with that, may I?" Without waiting for his wife's reply, he took his wife 's right foot, untied the shoelaces, and gently put the shoes on for her. My wife, always shy and quiet in front of others, blushed deeply in this situation, her hands twisting together as she tried to pull her foot away from Tim's grasp. Afraid of being impolite, she turned her head away, revealing a bright red nape to her neck. Standing there watching Tim hold my wife's delicate foot, I felt a surge of jealousy, but my heart pounded, my legs felt rooted to the spot, and I couldn't move. I wanted to say something, but my mind was a jumbled mess. I could only console myself that this was nothing unusual in America, and that Tim meant well. But seeing this scene, I found myself aroused. I quickly turned away, pretending to help my wife choose other shoes. After buying the shoes, my wife dragged me around the mall again, but she absolutely refused to let Tim stay with her. My wife, blushing, whispered in my ear that she wanted to buy some lingerie. She said that Victoria's Secret in America had more styles than in China , and the prices were much cheaper. My wife's scent and the soft touch of her hair brushing against my ear made me feel incredibly aroused, so I asked Tim if we could wait for each other at the Starbucks next door. Tim readily agreed. As soon as we entered the Victoria's Secret-themed store, my wife seemed to have recovered from her earlier embarrassment and tension. She almost let out a soft cheer and excitedly pulled me inside, hand in hand. I looked around. There were middle-aged Black women in their forties and fifties with large bellies and pear-shaped figures, as well as teenage girls with braces, and groups of college students in tight-fitting leggings. While the white female college students were certainly dressed provocatively, with large breasts and long legs , none of them could compare to my wife's charm in my eyes, especially her skin. Up close, I could see fine golden hair, nothing compared to my wife's snow-white, smooth skin. The wife draped her coat over her arm, revealing a waist so narrow it could be encircled with one hand, much slimmer than others. It was as if she had skipped the stage of a robust waist in her teenage years, still retaining the innocence . But below her slender waist were two full, upturned buttocks, forming a perfect peach shape, tightly wrapped in a straight skirt that swayed gently with her steps. Although the hem of the skirt only reached 15 centimeters above her knees, because the wife's waist was so thin, any skirt or trousers that fit her waist would be too tight on her buttocks. If you looked closely, you could even make out the edge of her panties, right below her buttocks. I stared at my wife's beautiful buttocks for a moment, recalling the night before I left the country, when we made love. She was lying face down on the bed, and I was in a doggy style position, pressing against her buttocks from behind. Because of her long legs, I had to stand on tiptoe to get my penis perfectly aligned with her vulva. Since arriving in California, we hadn't been intimate. Remembering that moment, my penis quickly became erect. I felt like the other people in the store were giving me disdainful looks, so I quickly stopped and whispered to my wife, "I won't go in with you. Go clothes, buy a few more pairs of underwear. The ones you're wearing now are showing your underwear." I gently slapped her buttocks. The blush that had just faded on her face returned. She pinched me hard, handed me her bag, told me to wait for her at the store entrance, and went inside. Before leaving, she hesitated for a moment, then gently kissed my cheek. My wife's parents are both civil servants, with a conservative upbringing and introverted personalities. They rarely show affection in public, so this kiss truly flattered me. I quickly pulled out my wallet from my pocket, took out my credit card, and handed it to my wife. After a while, my wife came out carrying a small black Victoria's Secret paper bag. I quickly took it, but just as I was about to open it , my wife snatched it away. "...Look at it when we get home, don't open it here." "Hehe, okay, then you can wear it for me tonight," I said with a lewd grin. "Honey, do you want to do ' that' tonight...? I've been holding back for days." My wife rolled her eyes at me and pinched me. "Let's go home, I'm tired, hmph." Tim drove us back. Tim turned his head and looked at the Victoria's Secret , then turned back to me in the passenger seat and said meaningfully, " Man, you're so lucky."

A thought struck me, and I feigned ignorance , asking him why he said that. Tim smiled slyly, "
Because your wife's feet are so small and lovely."

To be continued ...

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