A different way to play before convincing his wife

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Word Count: 5600 　　　　　　　　　　　Published
: 2013/10/13 on: sis 　　****************
...　　　　The phenomenon of "partner swapping" in China is, to some extent, influenced by the Western sexual revolution. Besides social factors, disharmony in marital sex life is also a significant reason for this phenomenon. Many couples experience monotonous sex lives, leaving one or both partners unsatisfied and unable to express their passion. Due to historical reasons, China has historically had relatively little sex education, viewing sexual practices as something unseemly. In reality, both partners have an obligation to satisfy each other during sex. Therefore, improving the quality of marital sex life is crucial. 　　—For clarification 　　It's been many years, probably since I first experienced romantic feelings and developed a gender awareness, leading to a hazy, innocent first love. This so-called first love was merely a secret crush; I never had the courage to confess. This isn't shameful; I think most men's first loves are similar. But that kind of delicate, bone-deep emotion is unforgettable. This unforgettable emotion often manifests as naked possessiveness. Needless to say, it's unimaginable to feel uncontrollably excited seeing one's partner moaning and groaning beneath another; even seeing the girl one admires exchange a single word with another boy would feel like a knife piercing one's heart. 　　Ironically, that's how I was. 　　But as those wise men of old said, no one knows what the next step will bring, and my journey can serve as a testament to their wisdom. I met my wife at the age when love was just beginning to blossom. After more than two years of secret admiration, I boldly confessed my feelings, and we finally became a couple. During that time, even a casual glance could stir my heart for a long time, a beautiful and tender feeling of sunshine and spring blossoms. Love then was truly love, pure as a crystal, unblemished. 　　For a long period, I didn't think about possessing my wife's body; I felt that as long as she was before me, she was my whole world, and nothing else mattered. Later, through love, studies, work, and marriage, our relationship deepened and became richer and more multifaceted. Then, I learned about "partner swapping," which seemed utterly absurd and incomprehensible. While I knew the world was vast and diverse, this practice remained beyond my understanding. How could anyone willingly allow their beloved wife to be wantonly violated by another man and derive immense pleasure from it? In 　　the 62nd year of the People's Republic, I came across this website. My inner Pandora's box was opened. 　　Reading the vivid accounts and wild fantasies, it felt as if my wife was being penetrated by countless strange penises, as if she were being wantonly molested in different situations… 　　Initially, a tremendous sense of guilt and shame overwhelmed me. But I slowly discovered that this overwhelming feeling also brought me excitement. I don't know how this transformation occurred, or if this thought had always been buried deep within me. 　　To be honest, at that time, my interest in this was only superficial, far from being truly fascinated, especially since my wife was unaware of my inclinations. But the more I saw and fantasized, the more I became deeply addicted to the feeling, unable to extricate myself. Countless times, I would imagine my wife's voluptuous, fair body receiving pleasure from another man. Each time, my heart would race with uncontrollable excitement, my lower body hardening like iron. I realized then that I was deeply entangled. 　　Even now, I haven't had the courage to make such a request to my wife. Of course, another reason is that I enjoy this gradual process, so I'm not in a hurry. In any case, the fact that my wife hasn't been involved is undoubtedly a source of great satisfaction for a man with a cuckold fetish.　　　Drawn by this desire, some alternative methods slowly emerged: 　　First, using words to replace reality. For a long time, I began to use my wife as the protagonist in fictional stories. Because these writings were purely for my own amusement, only I could see them, so the names, workplaces, characters, and connecting scenes were all real. Only in this way could I feel the reality and better satisfy my desires. 　　Second, using the internet to replace reality. I created a new QQ account, filling in my wife's basic information (as specific and truthful as possible without revealing her privacy, such as her gender, age, occupation, and city). Of course, my wife is unaware of this; I'm the user. My plan is to use this QQ account first, and then let my wife use it when the time is right. I've put a lot of effort into this QQ account; my profile picture is of my wife's back, and I've decorated the space according to her aesthetic tastes. The photo album contains pictures of my wife without showing her face or any obvious surrounding information. 　　Whenever I'm online, many energetic predators flood in. Most of them are just relentlessly persistent and unskilled attempts to hook up, boasting wildly about their sexual prowess. This doesn't excite me, because it's me using this QQ account, not my wife. Some were more reserved, discussing details like what she was wearing, how many men she'd been with, and how things were in bed. I would recount my wife's true situation at the time. Some would flatter her, saying cheesy things, while others would describe how they would have sex with "me," and I would often do exactly as they described. 　　Some, "naturally gifted" (meaning they had naturally large genitals, genuinely over 18 centimeters), would display their enormous genitals in the video. I would take a couple of pictures and show them to my wife, since it was because of her that it was engorged. Sometimes I would also send a short video of only our genitals joined together, letting the stranger admire my wife's private genitals and moans. In this virtual process, I tried to get as close to reality as possible. Thirdly, 　　I used clothing to replace reality. Although my wife herself couldn't allow other men to molest her, seeing her clothes, especially her underwear, being molested or sprayed with semen by other men was a step further, and the stimulation was more direct. Unfortunately, this experience has only happened once so far, because people you can trust to meet in person are truly rare. One thing to mention is that I have a foot fetish, especially for women wearing stockings and high heels, something my wife knows, and we often engage in foot fetishes. But what she doesn't know is how much I long for her delicate feet to grip a stranger's penis and be smeared with stranger's semen. 　　Let me go back to that experience. Here's what happened: I have many fellow foot fetishists online, sharing our experiences and exchanging photos with a few. I've been chatting with one of them for over two years, and we've built trust. He's a university student, graduating next year, and lives not far from my city, less than a two-hour drive away. One day, unable to suppress my intense desire any longer, I asked him, "Would you like to ejaculate on my wife's high heels?" (That's my exact words). He said, of course, but he'd prefer his wife to give him a foot fetish. I said, I'm serious, I mean playing with my wife's high heels in front of her.

He hesitated for about ten minutes, asking if I really wanted this and how to carry it out. I said yes, I'd thought it through. I'd drive to the city where his school is, book a room, and bring my things. He said he was looking forward to it and asked if his wife would come along. I said she wouldn't, but she could bring her laptop; it had her photos and videos we'd taken, which she could only view. He said okay.
After finalizing the arrangements, I thought of a reason for going out and then drove off. When I arrived, I found a business hotel not far from his school, booked a standard room, and then sent him the location and room number via QQ (we'd agreed beforehand on what time I'd be online). After sending the message, I felt a nervous excitement, like I was hooking up. Although we'd been chatting for over two years, I'd never actually met him. Was he a cocky school bully? A diligent student? Or perhaps not even a college student at all? I comforted myself, thinking, "What's done is done. Judging from our interactions, he seems quite honest." I stopped thinking about it too much; my purpose was to seek excitement, so I shouldn't confuse my priorities. So, my heart calmed down.
That day, I brought my wife a pair of beige patent leather stilettos, a pair of black stockings, and a pair of briefs. My plan was to let him look at photos or videos of my wife, masturbate with the briefs and stockings first, then ejaculate inside the stilettos, without cleaning them up, and have my wife wear them directly. I waited for almost two hours, but he didn't come, and he didn't reply to my messages. I thought he had backed out at the last minute and stood me up, and I was very angry. I texted him, saying, "Tell me the truth, whether you're coming or not. I'm very angry about this." He replied, "Brother, don't be angry, I'm on my way." About twenty minutes later, there was finally a knock on the door.
Hearing the knock, I felt a little nervous, but mostly excited. Through the peephole, I saw a bookish-looking young man. He seemed like a child to me; I hadn't expected this fellow enthusiast I'd been communicating with online for so long to look so naive. I thought it must be him. I opened the door, and I could clearly see he was nervous. He asked if I was **** (my online name). I said yes. He said, "Brother, hello." I said, "Come in and let's talk." He quickly entered the room. I closed the door and saw him standing by the bed, looking a little flustered. I said, "Are you nervous?" He said, "A little." I smiled, thinking, "More than a little." I said, "We've been friends for over two years, there's no need to be nervous."
At that moment, my earlier nervousness vanished. Perhaps seeing him made me feel that this shy young man posed no threat or worry to me; I was completely in control. He smiled too and said, "Yes." I said, "Please sit wherever you like." He walked to the wicker chair by the window and sat down. I said, "I thought you weren't coming." He said, "I did have that thought, but after talking for so long, I don't think you're a bad person. Besides, I won't stay here after graduation; I'll go back to my hometown (which is far away), and we might never see each other again, so there won't be any awkwardness."
I said, "Interpersonal relationships are always complicated, but luckily, neither of us are complicated people." He smiled and said, "Yes, on the way here, I was worried about meeting a stranger for this kind of thing. I felt conflicted and afraid of being scammed, but after meeting and chatting, it really felt like talking to a senior I'd never met before." I didn't know if he was flattering me, but I could tell he wasn't so nervous anymore, and his tone was very sincere, without any of the hypocrisy that comes with experience.
I said, "Then just think of me as your senior." He said, "That would be great." Now the atmosphere finally warmed up. I said, "I brought a bottle of local wine; I'll have a drink with you." Actually, I thought a little alcohol would help me relax, so I left a bottle in the car before I left. He said, "I can have a little, but I can't hold my liquor." I said, "How much can you drink at most?" (mainly because I was worried he'd drink too much and affect the next part of the activity). He said, "At most three ounces." I thought to myself, "He really is a student." I said, "Then drink less; I won't let you drink too much." I took out the wine and poured it directly into a teacup on the small glass tea table next to me. I poured him about two ounces, and I poured myself about four ounces. I picked up my glass and said, "Let's drink to our first meeting." He picked up his glass too and said something like, "Thank you."
We chatted as we drank, but didn't touch on the topics we'd discussed online. By the time I'd almost finished my drink, I was slightly tipsy, fantasizing about my wife using her delicate feet to grip a stranger's penis—a thought that quickly became uncontrollable. Seeing his face was flushed and his voice tinged with alcohol, I steered the conversation in that direction. I said, "Want to see your sister-in-law?" He said, "Brother, I really want to." I placed my laptop on the bed opposite me and started it.
Watching the Windows
progress bar, imagining my wife being admired by a strange man in such a lewd atmosphere, my heart pounded. The computer was on, and I skillfully navigated to "My Computer" → "D drive" → "Software Installation" folder (a dedicated folder for storing photos and videos). Opening it revealed sixteen folders with different names (some named after my wife's clothing, others after location). Because it was in thumbnail view mode, I could vaguely see very small images.
I didn't open any directly, but looked at him and asked if he wanted to see them. He said, "Brother, I really want to see what my wife looks like." I said, "Just click on whatever you want to see." He looked at me and said, "Thank you, brother, I'll look then." I said, "I came all this way just for you to see, and there's something even more exciting than that. You look first." He got up and squatted in front of the bed, browsing through the sixteen folders until he finally moved the cursor to the "Black High-Heeled Sandals" folder and double-clicked. Those were a pair of sandals my wife wore in the summer—black high heels with simple straps. The photos included pictures taken in the living room, in bed, casual snapshots, and even foot fetish photos of her wearing the shoes. I watched him from the side and noticed him swallowing, very subtly, but I saw it.
I said, "Is it pretty?" He said, "Sister-in-law is so charming, especially her feet, so beautiful. I wish I had a wife like that." He looked at some other photos. I asked, "Are you hard?" (It's really perverted for a man to ask another man this, but at the time, I only thought he was hard because of his wife, and I didn't feel embarrassed at all, except for the excitement). He said, "Yes, I'm hard, I want to fuck sister-in-law." Seeing that the time was right, I took out the high heels, stockings, and underwear I had brought and put them on the bed, saying, "These are my wife's things. You can use them to masturbate, and you can also ejaculate on them." He stood up when he heard me say that.
The computer screen froze on a photo of my wife lying on the sofa, wearing only a pink thong and a pair of black high heels. My wife's body was rather plump, but not fat. From behind, the thin strap of the thong was sunk into her full buttocks, and I got aroused too. He looked somewhat noncommittal. I said, "Take off your pants, look at your sister-in-law, and masturbate with her underwear and stockings. Ejaculate in her high heels later, then take them back for her to wear." He hesitated a bit, but still unbuckled his belt and took off his pants. Even through his underwear, I could see he was hard. After taking off his underwear, an erect penis was revealed—an erection born from seeing his wife, not very large, and not very dark in color.
I said, "Go ahead and play around, it's okay." He picked up the underwear and asked if I had worn it. I said yes, I had worn it for a day. He held the narrow strip of fabric in the middle of the underwear (the part that touched his wife's genitals) to his nose and smelled it, taking a deep breath, looking quite intoxicated. I said, "Does it smell good?" He said, "It smells amazing, not the fishy smell I imagined, but a very special fragrance." I said, "Relax, it's okay." He seemed encouraged and said, "Brother, is this where your sister-in-law's vagina rubbed?" I said, "Yes, this is where your sister-in-law's vagina touches." He then put his underwear on his penis and rubbed the glans against that spot, the secreted fluid stretching into a thin silver thread.
Seeing my wife's underwear being violated by a stranger's penis, I was extremely excited, and my penis became rock hard. I sat in the wicker chair, unbuckled my belt, and pulled the underwear down to my legs, stroking my penis. He then picked up a stocking, pulled it over his penis through the opening, and masturbated, while simultaneously setting the computer to slideshow mode and watching the screen while masturbating. That's roughly how it happened. Finally, he ejaculated into my wife's high heels. I didn't let him clean them, and of course, I didn't clean them either. Instead, I held my wife's high heels, which had been used by someone else, and spun them around to allow the semen to soak as much as possible. Afterward, he left. The next day, I checked out of the hotel and returned to my city, to go home.
To be honest, I'm a novice on this path, yearning for the real thrill that might come at any time, and also enjoying every little thing along the way. Many people might say, "If you want to play, just play for real, this is too much trouble, it's not like a man." What I'm trying to say is that everyone has their own way of living and their own joys, and everyone has their own journey.
Don't you agree?

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A different way to play before convincing his wife

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