The Transformation of a Wife 2

page views:1 Publication date:2019-03-18

By chance, I came across a post on ****** and discovered that the cuckoldry thoughts that had always lingered in my subconscious had been suppressed by myself and the world. Besides my own arousal, I also thought, since I couldn't give my wife the best experience in the world, why not let another man give her the best in my place? My wife's soul is mine, and that's more important than anything else. I've always believed that my wife's soul and mine are bound together, inseparable. My wife and I are essentially one soul in two bodies. As I browsed related posts and joined some couples' dating forums, I felt like I had entered a new world. In this world, the soul and body are both united and separated. Sex is a tool for easing tensions, releasing passion, and relieving stress. Women enjoy a supreme status in this world, receiving the adulation of men and unprecedented sensory stimulation and enjoyment. Men, in turn, experience stimulation and gratitude, and cherish their women even more.
Initially, I secretly browsed related posts, and I didn't dare reveal my cuckolding thoughts to my wife. I was afraid she would call me a pervert and get angry with me. Although my wife had been exposed to Western open-minded ideas, the content was still a bit too explicit, so I kept this secret to myself. During sex, especially when my wife was aroused, I would joke with her. Things like, "How about finding a young, handsome man to give you a massage?", "How about finding a good-looking guy to lick you?", "How about finding a long, thick penis to penetrate you?" Every time I joked, I was on tenterhooks, afraid my wife would get angry. But each time, she would slowly nod, expressing her struggle and consent with even deeper moans. However, after sex, I dared not mention these jokes again. The cuckolding initially became various lewd jokes during our sex life.
My wife has her own social media accounts and also teaches interpreting and yoga classes. She also writes novels and translations. Therefore, she has many fans, including several male fans who have pursued her intensely, even after she revealed she was married. Some male fans still relentlessly pursue her, sometimes driving her to the point of tears and amusement. My wife is a woman with boundless love for her fans, perhaps even treating them better than her husband (of course, this is a joke). She fulfills fans' various requests, such as autographs, photos, adding them as friends, and mutual following on Weibo. She values her fans very much. I remember one time my wife came home from an event at a bar, slightly tipsy. She took off her high heels and languidly lay in my arms, recounting the day's events. She mentioned a male fan who confessed his love to her at the bar and even made unwanted advances. Although she was unhappy, she didn't confront him on the spot. However, the male fan thought she was playing hard to get and tried to kiss her forcefully. Despite her efforts to break free, he still managed to gently kiss her lips. As I listened to my wife's story, I felt no resentment towards the male fan. Instead, my penis shamelessly hardened. Especially when he spoke of the male fan forcefully kissing my wife, I so wished it wasn't just a light touch on the lips. I so wished that, fueled by alcohol, he could pry open my wife's teeth with his tongue, and then the two of them could passionately kiss in the dim light of the bar. My wife was still telling me the details of the day's activities, but I had no time to listen. I stared blankly at my wife's cherry-like lips opening and closing as she spoke to me. At that moment, I had only one thought: I wanted to fuck her. I sidestepped and pinned my slightly tipsy wife beneath me, my hands slipping inside her skirt and neckline, grabbing one of her proud breasts and kneading them incessantly. My lust for my wife, fueled by her male admirer, was ignited. My wife was startled by my sudden roughness, but quickly slumped back onto the sofa. There was hardly anyone else at home, just the two of us, so in the enclosed space, we could have sex anytime, anywhere. It had been almost two weeks since our last time, and we both needed a satisfying sexual encounter to release our pent-up desires. My wife, having had a few drinks, quickly became aroused as well. She took the initiative to undress me, and I quickly removed her skirt and bra. When I encountered some difficulty removing her stockings, I gave up and forcefully ripped them at the crotch, tearing them. My wife rarely saw me so rough. Her actions even elicited a flurry of playful punches at me, as if she were scolding me for being too rough and ungentle. I ignored my wife's little mood; I was painfully hard and desperately needed her vaginal lubrication to relieve the heat. I pulled down her panties a little, easily brushing the bottom of her thong to one side, and then thrust directly into her body. My wife gasped. Because the movements were so fast and forceful, her genitals weren't fully wet yet, which must have hurt her. She started sobbing, as if she didn't recognize the man she had been with day and night. Her fists rained down on my back. When her fists were useless, she used her hands and feet to push against my chest and abdomen, hoping to break free from my invasion. At that moment, I felt like a rapist, ramming into my wife's vagina. The sound of the sofa legs scraping against the floor was particularly loud. My wife couldn't break free from me, so she simply started crying—she was really crying. The moment she burst into tears, I woke up. I suddenly realized my recklessness and roughness. I quickly pulled out of my wife's body, though my penis was still hard. But at that moment, I had no desire to enjoy the warmth of her vagina. I knelt in front of the sofa, begging for my wife's forgiveness. I told her that I couldn't control my impulse, that it felt like a little devil inside me almost came out. My wife stopped crying. She had never seen me like this before and must have been terrified. But she loved me. She knelt down in front of me, hugged my bowed head, and comforted me that the little devil was gone and wouldn't come back. My wife and I knelt and kissed. I slowly lifted her and carried her into the bedroom. I gently placed her on the bed and carefully removed her torn stockings. Then I began to kiss her body tenderly. My wife was aroused and eagerly wrapped her legs around my waist, gesturing for me to enter her. My hands moved downwards by instinct; her genitals were completely wet, overflowing with love juice. At this moment, we didn't need much foreplay. My wife and I kissed passionately, accepting each other's bodies, and then the bed began to shake. That night, I had unusually good stamina. I made love to my wife three times, more than I had ever done before, until our pubic bones ached a little before we stopped. I held my wife in my arms. At that moment, I was terrified of losing her. I dared not unleash the demon of my lust again; I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself.

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The Transformation of a Wife 2

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