The feeling of cuckolding wife, part three

I looked up, then instinctively pulled my head back in fright.

Immediately afterward, I heard my wife making "mmm" sounds—the sound of her mouth being filled. Could it

be...?

"Sister Jing, your little mouth is so good, it feels so good, so good!" It turned out the man

was using his penis to pound my wife's mouth, making her, drunk, perform oral sex on him.

The man slapped my wife's mouth while saying lewd things, making my penis almost burst open

, but I dared not make a move.

Suddenly, I heard my wife's sounds become rapid, and the man began to breathe heavily.

My wife was about to be taken by another man, albeit in his mouth! My mind went blank for a moment

, filled with both my wife's pleasure and the humiliation of being taken.

As the man exhaled a long breath, I knew my wife had finally swallowed another man's semen. At the same time,

a chill ran down my spine: What if he finished and found out? Thinking of this, a cold sweat broke out on my back.

I risked everything and peeked out again, only to see the man pressing his penis tightly against my wife's mouth for a long time before

releasing it. My wife coughed rapidly.

The man glanced at his watch and muttered to himself, "Jing, it's finally your turn. Worth it! There

are still 17 minutes left. Let's give it our all and give your husband another cuckold's horns." He then grabbed my wife's

hand and placed it on his limp penis.

Although I wanted to see my wife being with another man again, I was afraid I wouldn't have a chance to escape like before

, so I left Hall 3 with great reluctance. I didn't know how he would handle the second round—with my wife

's body? Or somewhere else? But the thrill and the humiliation I felt were unforgettable.

I checked the time; it was time to leave. I quickly dialed my wife's number. That lewd

male voice came through again, "Hey, bro, are you here? Hall 3, we're waiting for you!"

I deliberately called to give him time to sort things out and avoid an awkward situation. Thankfully, when I finally

picked up my wife, she seemed perfectly normal, at least on the surface! The man's eyes were filled

with pride and mocking smugness as he looked at me .

I absentmindedly greeted him and quickly helped my wife back to the room. I excitedly approached her

, but the stench of alcohol mixed with the smell of semen and vaginal fluid emanating from her breath was extremely unpleasant, making me

feel nauseous, so I didn't go any closer.

I quickly lifted my wife's skirt, and sure enough, there was a large, wet patch at her crotch; I could clearly

see . I leaned in and smelled it; there was a smell of fluid, but no

smell of semen.

Could he have used his hand on my wife's crotch the second time? While fiddling with my wife's crotch, I

continued searching for signs of intimacy. Soon, I discovered red marks between her legs; it turned out

he had used her 36D breasts to ejaculate, and then used his hand on her crotch.

Thinking about this, I felt a surge of excitement. I quickly washed my wife, then pulled out my already

rock-hard penis and thrust it into her with a "plop." My wife's vagina had already

secreted a lot of fluid during her previous encounter with another man, and in the slippery environment, my entry was very smooth.

Recalling the scene of my wife being penetrated, I felt incredibly aroused. Without any fancy techniques, I just grabbed her

long legs and started thrusting hard. In less than three minutes, a large gush of thick fluid gushed out, reaching

the deepest part of my wife's body.

The dual stimulation of my senses and mind made me exclaim with satisfaction; the pleasure of my wife was indeed endlessly delightful.

When I finished showering and was about to lie back in bed, I inadvertently glanced at the socks on the bedside table.

Something felt off, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

I thought about it for a while, even touching the socks, but still couldn't figure it out, so I gave up, turned off the light,

and lay down .

Just as the light went out, a flash of inspiration struck me. I jumped up, reached for

the light switch, and grabbed the socks to examine them closely.

Holy crap, these aren't my wife's socks!!! Although they're both ultra-thin, my wife's socks are imported

, and the stitching method is different, resulting in a different pattern.

The pair I have in my hand definitely isn't hers. To confirm my guess, I took another

pair of socks from my wife's luggage and compared them under the light; sure enough, the pattern was different.

My heart skipped a beat. Who took my wife's socks and replaced them with a new pair? That guy?

Definitely not! I almost instantly dismissed my previous thought. If that guy

had changed my wife's socks later, there wouldn't be any liquid smell on them; if he had changed them beforehand

, and then put them on top? No reason, no motive!

So, someone must have changed my wife's socks before that guy? Thinking of this, my

penis started to stir again. Who was the person who changed the socks?

What did they do to my wife?

Looking at my wife's languid sleeping posture, my heart burned with desire. My long-awaited wife had finally come true, even though

she wasn't conscious, but I...

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The feeling of cuckolding wife, part three

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