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Blogger:qwlejiao 2018-01-14

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My wife likes to watch 

On QQ, the avatar of an old classmate I hadn't contacted in a long time suddenly popped up. We were good friends in school, and he returned to his hometown after graduation.
At first, we chatted frequently on QQ and occasionally called each other, but as time went on, our work and lives completely diverged, and we gradually lost common topics, and things faded away.
He said he'd come to Nanjing for a couple of days this weekend, and of course, I was happy to oblige, telling him I'd treat him well. Then we chatted idly, exchanging a few words. Just then, my wife, wrapped in a towel after her shower, came over. "Which girl are you chatting with? I could hear your QQ beeping nonstop while I was showering." I explained what had happened, and my wife wasn't happy, thinking I was going to waste money again. She went to bed to watch TV.
My wife was drying her hair with a towel in her right hand, her left arm supporting her body as she lay on her side on the bed. Gravity accentuated the alluring cleavage along the top edge of the towel, and her wet hair hung messily over her chest. The short bath towel couldn't conceal my wife's alluring curves; half of her buttocks peeked out from the bottom edge, and a glimpse of dark skin could be seen deep within her fair thighs.
This temptation was irresistible. We exchanged phone numbers, agreed on a time, and I quickly logged off.
I leaped onto the bed. My kisses slowly traveled from her calves to her thighs, buttocks, and groin, gently covering her dark forest with my lips. My wife moaned softly.
My tongue pierced through the dark forest, reaching the depths of her paradise. My wife wiggled her hips, her moist lower body lightly brushing against my lips. I crawled on top of her, tearing open her towel, my hands groping her breasts, my body writhing against hers.
"Weren't you chatting with your classmate?... Ah!" I secretly exerted a little more force. "Weren't you going to warmly entertain her... Ah... How are you going to entertain... Ah... her?"
A wicked thought flashed through my mind...
We quickly finished our encounter. My wife seemed unsatisfied, but I wasn't in the mood. I pondered the next part of the story.
The night before the weekend, my wife and I were lying in bed watching TV. "I won't be having dinner with you tomorrow, a classmate is coming over." "Okay." "I might be home late tonight." "Okay." I looked at my wife, but she seemed reluctant to talk to me, her eyes glued to the TV. "He wants me to take two girls out to karaoke tonight." "Who?" My wife's voice was twice as loud, and she stopped watching TV, turning her head to me. "Colleagues, friends, anything is fine." "No way! Who knows what you'll be doing there?"
My wife stared at me intently, her eyes practically devouring me. "Then what should I do?" "I'll go!" My wife declared. "He said he'd take some young girls out, but he brought his wife instead! People will laugh at us!" "What should I do… it's definitely not going to work!" My wife was getting exasperated.
"Well... let me think." I pretended to pat my head. "Okay, I'll take you. Just say you're my colleague; he's never seen you before anyway."
"Hmm... okay." My wife seemed interested in my suggestion. "What does he want you to bring a young woman for?"
"Just to sing karaoke, drink, hug, and take advantage of her.
" "No way! I'm not going."
"You're not going?"
"I'm going!" My wife was a little incoherent.
"It's nothing, he wouldn't dare rape you in a karaoke bar, would he?" I chuckled and put my hand on her thigh, half-joking, half-comforting her.
At this moment, my wife's legs suddenly stiffened, standing straight up, motionless, and she stammered a little. "Just the three of us?" "Who else do you want to bring?" "No... well, is there anything wrong?"
"We haven't seen each other for years, and we probably won't see each other again. Let's sing karaoke, drink, and relax. What could possibly happen?"
My wife's legs slowly relaxed. My first sentence probably had the biggest effect on her; if they wouldn't see each other again, there would be no risk of being exposed. This kind of game is easy and fun to play.
"Dress nicely tomorrow." "I know..." My wife fell into deep thought.
The night passed without incident until dawn. I took an hour off work to pick up my classmate and treated him to dinner at a decent little restaurant. After many years, he had lost the simple innocence of his school days and kept talking incessantly. He talked about how much potential his company had, how far-sighted the boss was, and how he would definitely lead the company to a new level. His performance was off-putting; in the end, he was just a low-level salesman, earning less than a third of what I made. I listened to him the whole time, nodding and smiling. If we weren't classmates for so many years, I would have been sarcastic; if he weren't such a bad person, I would have ended the game.
It's just a game, why take it so seriously? Let's leave the unpleasant feelings behind and have some fun.
Finally, I suggested we go sing karaoke and find a cute girl to liven things up. He was overjoyed and kept asking what she looked like.
After leaving the restaurant, I called my wife and told her to come over quickly. When we arrived at the karaoke bar, I called my wife again to tell her the room number. She said she had just left. I sang two songs, but my classmate seemed distracted, constantly glancing out the window. After I finished singing, I didn't receive a single applause, and he started urging me to call again. Okay, call, my wife said she'd arrived.
He pretended to be calm, selected a song, and kept glancing out the window as he sang. The door opened, and my wife walked in. I was stunned, and so was he. My wife's outfit today was both innocent and sexy, sexy yet refreshingly elegant; innocent yet alluring. She wore a short, silk floral print skirt, a white wide-necked T-shirt, and her left shoulder was mostly exposed, the black bra strap highlighting her snow-white shoulder—incredibly seductive. I let my wife in, and a fragrant scent wafted over—the intoxicating allure of Burberry.
Light pink lipstick and black eyeshadow—clearly, my wife had put a lot of thought into her appearance. After a brief introduction, I sat at the song selection desk, and my wife sat between us.
I booked a mini-room. The sofa was cramped, and the three of us huddled together. My classmate enthusiastically poured us drinks, acting like he was the host.
"Are you married?" he asked, leaning his glass against my wife's bare shoulder. "Um..." My wife was clearly taken aback by the question and hesitated for a moment. She turned to look at me. "Yes." "Haha, what's there to be embarrassed about? Come on, let's drink." My classmate was excited; he clearly thought my wife was attracted to his handsome appearance and was keeping her married status a secret. Actually, in this kind of situation, men don't care whether a woman is married or not; the key is how to get her into bed.
After two drinks, my wife's face flushed slightly, looking alluring in the dim light. It had been a while since anyone sang, so I suggested my classmate sing a song. He readily agreed, standing up to give a heartfelt performance.
"You look so sexy today," I whispered in my wife's ear. “You can be even sexier.” Taking advantage of my classmate’s inattention, I pulled my wife’s collar, which was drooping over her left shoulder, back to her chest. The wide collar hung naturally, revealing a deep cleavage.
“Are you crazy!” My wife turned to look at me, glaring at me. She made no attempt to pull her clothes back up. She glanced down, leaned over, picked up a glass of wine from the coffee table, and took a small sip. Her series of actions were clearly to hide her panic. She wanted others to see her sexy side, but didn’t want me to think she was so lewd. The song ended, and my classmate turned and sat down. “Bravo!” My wife and I clapped at the same time. I turned to look at my classmate, glancing at my wife as well. My classmate was also staring at her, and my wife smiled at him while clapping. From our angle, looking down her neck, my wife’s breasts swayed from side to side with the movement of her arms, and my classmate’s lustful eyes were fixed on them. “Come on, let’s have another one.” I broke the ambiguous atmosphere first. Then my classmate suggested that my wife sing a song. After hesitating for a while, my wife finally stood up.
Because of sitting for so long, the hem of my wife's floral mini-skirt had curled up slightly. It was already very short, and I could even see the edge of her underwear. My classmate clearly hadn't missed this opportunity either. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye; his head was leaning against the sofa, his eyes fixed on the depths of my wife's skirt
. From his angle, the view inside was completely clear. When the song ended—my wife sang for five minutes, and he watched for a full five minutes—it was great. "Great job," my classmate clapped. My wife was pleased. "I'll pour you some drinks." She bent down and picked up the bottle. With her movement, the back of her skirt rode up quite a bit, and her sheer silk panties immediately came into view. Her white buttocks looked particularly striking under the panties, the depths of her private area shrouded in black.
Looking at my classmate, I noticed a noticeable bulge in his genitals.
"I'm going to the restroom," my wife said, picking up her bag and leaving the room.
"Your colleague's really horny!" my classmate said with a lewd grin. "I saw her pubic hair just now, lots of it, she must have a strong sex drive, did you see it?"
"I didn't notice," I said, feigning regret.
"Come on, haha, I saw you staring at her ass just now," my classmate grinned at me lewdly. "Seriously, her breasts are really big, jiggling back and forth, I really want to rub them." My classmate's words obviously had an effect on me; I could clearly feel myself getting aroused, and I really wanted to drag my wife back and have some fun with her.
My wife came back, and my classmate clung to her, constantly urging her to drink. My wife had gotten used to the environment and was responding to him half-heartedly. Nobody paid attention to me, so I ordered a few songs and started singing by myself.
When I finished singing and turned around, my classmate had his right hand on my wife's shoulder, his left hand holding a wine glass, urging her to drink and chatting. I suddenly felt a surge of jealousy, but it was instantly replaced by lust.
After I sat down, the three of us drank two more glasses of wine, and the alcohol made me a little dizzy. I was a little drunk, leaning my head on the sofa and closing my eyes. "What's wrong?" my wife turned around and asked with concern. "I'm a little dizzy, I'm going to lie down for a bit." I drank at dinner, and then drank quite a bit more here. I'm not a big drinker to begin with, and now I really have a headache.
My wife called the waiter over and brought me a cup of tea, then handed it to me. At that moment, I was suddenly touched by my wife's thoughtfulness, and I really wanted to take her away from this place immediately. I closed my eyes, and my wife
's swaying breasts and snow-white buttocks immediately appeared before my eyes again. At this moment, many things were mixed together, and I felt dizzy. In my half-asleep state, I seemed to see my wife's hands supporting her on the coffee table, my classmate lifting up her skirt and tearing off her underwear, my wife twisting her buttocks to meet my classmate's violation of her body. Her breasts were squeezed and deformed in my classmate's hands, accompanied by intense moans that echoed in my mind.
I was suddenly awakened by something, and my wife was not beside me.
"How long have I been asleep?" I asked my classmate groggily.
"I don't know, maybe half an hour."
"Oh, where is she?"
"She went to the bathroom, just now."
"Oh." I took a sip of water and lit a cigarette.
"Her breasts are so big." My classmate looked at me and lit a cigarette as well.
"Didn't I just say that? You even said you wanted to rub them. Hehe, you pervert."
"I touched them."
"Huh?" I suddenly didn't know what to say.
"They're big, firm, and very elastic, and the nipples feel... oh my, hehe." My classmate took a deep drag of his cigarette, closed his eyes slightly, and slowly exhaled the smoke, as if he was enjoying it.
"As soon as I put her nipple in my mouth, she couldn't take it anymore."
"You...you...kissed her...wasn't she wearing a bra?"
"It was black, I took it off, and at first she wouldn't let me, hehe."
"And then?"
"And then? Then I touched her, and she was soaking wet." He put his legs up on the coffee table, exhaled two smoke rings, and spoke with a hint of smugness.
"Did you take off your underwear too?"
"No, it felt nice, very comfortable to the touch. By the way, she told me not to tell you, and you shouldn't ask her either."
"Of course I won't ask, how can I ask about something like this?" I said dismissively.
"I also need to go to the restroom, my hands are all... hehe." He had just stood up when his wife pushed open the door, glanced at him, then turned to me, quickly lowered her head, and hurried back to her seat.
"When did you wake up?" His wife asked softly, holding her teacup and looking at the big screen.
"A while ago." His wife turned her head in surprise, looking at me, a hint of panic in her eyes.
"I woke up, but I didn't see you. She said you went to the restroom."
"Oh." She turned back, still staring at the big screen.
Whether it was the steamy scene just now that had stirred her heart, or the flustered state of our question and answer, or perhaps she had drunk a few too many cups, her face was flushed, her hand holding the teacup trembled slightly, and her high breasts were rising and falling. Her snow-white legs, concealed by a sexy short skirt, stirred my restless hand. I slowly felt the warmth of her thighs with the back of my hand. She didn't move, her eyes fixed straight ahead.
I leaned my head slightly towards her hairline, my left hand sliding down her armpit, my fingers lightly touching her heaving breasts. As my fingers pressed harder, her breasts swayed rhythmically.
My gaze followed the black bra strap down, to her breasts, which had just been teased and sucked by another man, swaying from side to side. My right hand slowly moved upward, lifting her skirt, placing my hand on her still slightly damp silk panties, feeling the warmth emanating from them.
My wife remained motionless, her limbs stiff. My fingers slipped between her tightly closed legs, moving from her inner thighs upward, gliding over her buttocks, pausing briefly, until they reached the depths of her groin. My fingers swirled here, from one finger to two.
"Ah!" With the movement of my knuckles, two fingers instantly sank into the swamp of the jungle; without the barrier of her panties, they might have been swallowed whole in an instant.
"Ah!" My wife was aroused again. Having her most private parts violated by two men in one night—even the most virtuous woman couldn't remain unmoved. She was wet again, thoroughly wet. Her hands trembled, the water in the teacup flowing down her slender fingers, dripping onto her thighs, down her inner thighs, drop by drop.
"It's not good if someone sees," my wife said, pulling out a tissue to gently wipe her sexy legs.
"Mmm." Actually, I knew she wasn't afraid of others seeing, but of him seeing. Just ten minutes ago, this usually dignified and proud woman had sat on this very seat, in front of her husband, letting others lift her T-shirt, undo her bra, and wantonly fondle her breasts. A surge of jealousy rose within her. But a game is a game; to continue playing, one must consider the bigger picture. Didn't I also experience unprecedented passion? Passion comes at a price.
I released my wife's soft body and obediently sat down to the side. "What song do you want to sing? I'll pick one for you."
"My throat is a little hoarse, you sing." My wife seemed a little tired, leaning back on the sofa.
Just then, he came back.
"Why aren't you singing? Waiting for me?" He seemed very excited and in particularly good spirits.
"Yeah, what do you want to sing? I'll pick one for you." I kept my eyes on the karaoke machine, not even looking up as I answered him.
He sat back on the sofa, his right hand casually resting on his wife's shoulder. She slightly shifted her body, pulling her hand away. He put his hand back on her, and she turned her head towards him, gently pushing him away. I didn't see their eye contact. However, in such a small private room, these subtle movements were hard to miss.
"Let's sing a duet," he said to his wife with a grin.
"My voice is hoarse, I can't sing," his wife said, sitting between us, seemingly a little uncomfortable.
"Sing one, you haven't sung much all night," I said, turning to my wife.
"Come on, come on. You can sing anything, I'll gladly oblige," he said, standing up gentlemanly and extending his hand to invite her.
His wife glanced at me again, and I gave her a smile.
In this situation, she couldn't possibly stay seated any longer. She picked up the microphone and stood up, completely ignoring his gentlemanly hand. He seemed embarrassed, perhaps also puzzled, that the woman who had just been so intimate with him had suddenly become so cold.
After the song ended, neither of them performed very well, seeming somewhat distracted. Returning to their seats, he suddenly grabbed his wife's hand and kissed it. His wife was startled, quickly glancing back at me, her expression flustered.
"You sang very well," he said to us, releasing his wife's hand.
I knew he was just trying to prove what he'd told me earlier—that this woman was only being cold to him because of my presence, while he had already won her heart.
"Not bad, not bad," I clapped, simultaneously easing the awkwardness and my wife's unease.
We sat down and drank a couple more glasses. Having just slept and after such passion, the effects of the alcohol had worn off considerably.
He stayed close to his wife, and the three of us chatted and drank. As we talked, his hand seemed to wander again, casually resting on his wife's thigh.
His wife, fearing he might do something rash like before, simply crossed her legs, causing his hand to slip to the side. His wife's restraint seemed to embolden him, and his hand slowly moved towards her groin.
My wife didn't dare resist much, only placing her hands on her raised legs and leaning forward to block more of my view. He seemed to be deliberately showing off in front of me, his actions becoming increasingly bold, forcing my wife to lean forward even further. One was trying desperately to hide, the other was trying desperately to perform; although drinking and chatting continued, no one was in the mood to sing anymore. The three-person karaoke room was filled with a lewd atmosphere.
His hands continued their actions, his head almost resting on my wife's shoulder, while she only moved slightly closer to me. The mini-room was already cramped, and now the three of us were almost completely pressed together. He kept attacking, my wife kept enduring, and I had absolutely no reason to break the stalemate.
This position, which seemed very strange to outsiders, didn't seem wrong to us at all; each of us had our own thoughts and reasons for maintaining it.
My wife leaned forward more and more, her already wide neckline exposing her entire breasts to the air. Because my wife was wearing a sexy half-cup bra, and because of our previous alternating fondling of her breasts, the edges of her black bra were subtly revealing her red areolas. He clearly noticed it too; his head rested lightly on her left shoulder, and I rested mine on her right, both of us focusing our gaze on that red glow. Her already full breasts, squeezed and deformed by our combined pressure on her arms, were almost bursting out. That deep cleavage extended upwards from the junction of the two cups… His movements quickened, and from my angle, I couldn't see how far he'd gone. But from my wife's dazed eyes and increasingly heavy breathing, I could tell that her most intimate parts were being violated by a man once again.
I pretended to reach for a tissue, lifting myself up to grab it, and as I did so, I glanced back. He seemed to know my intention, smiling at me and deliberately lifting my wife's buttocks so I could see even more clearly. My wife obediently lifted one side of her buttocks, her short skirt already pulled up to her waist on that side. His hands, encased in transparent panties, explored the dark forest beneath, two fingers already deeply embedded, moving in and out. No wonder my large movements went unnoticed. She was already lost in passion, like a female animal in heat. The mere intrusion of fingers was no longer enough; she needed the fullness of a large object filling her body, she needed that feeling of fulfillment.
His hands continued, his lips close to her earlobe, his slightly heavy breathing eliciting soft moans from her. She had completely lost control; she closed her eyes, not even trying to stop his hands from unhooking her bra. His hands slipped through her T-shirt, stroking her smooth back, and with that gentle movement, her breasts sprang out. Through the wide neckline of the white T-shirt, the black bra cups could no longer conceal her nipples, the pink nipples lightly rubbing against the white fabric. Without the restraint of her bra, her breasts bounced wildly in the air, the slightly rough fabric bearing the intense impact of her smooth, white breasts. His hand, having unhooked the bra, slowly reached out from under her armpit. His large hand broke through the barriers, tightly grasping one breast, squeezing, deforming, squeezing again, deforming once more. The pink nipple squeezed between his middle and ring fingers, held tightly between them.
His left hand continued its piston-like motion, while his right hand relentlessly squeezed the white breast, each squeeze accompanied by a deep moan. He lifted both breasts simultaneously, pressing them inwards, the nipples pressed tightly together, his palms rubbing them incessantly, followed by frantic pressing.
"Ah..." his wife let out a long moan, accompanied by violent trembling.
A woman reaching orgasm with another man in front of her husband—how unbelievable! Yet, it had truly happened.
My wife's face was flushed, her eyes still slightly closed. Through the wide collar of her dress, her breasts were still heaving. The man's right hand held one of her breasts; his earlier frenzy had subsided, and he seemed to be simply savoring its texture and weight.
She gently pushed away his hand, still keeping her eyes closed. She didn't have the courage to open them, afraid to see herself in this disheveled state. She bit her lower lip lightly, her hands clenched tightly together.
"I'm going to the restroom," I said, feeling the need to break the awkward silence.
"Me too," my wife quickly stood up, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door.
He quickly stood up and grabbed her arm.
"What?" she asked, struggling to stay inside.
"I have something to tell you," he said, pulling her back to his chest like a lamb.
Should I pull her back? But the situation didn't allow me much time to think. With a heavy heart, I walked straight to the door.
I stood outside for over ten seconds, but my wife didn't come out. "What are they doing? What if he rapes my wife? Has he already penetrated her?" In those few seconds, all sorts of thoughts rushed through my mind, and I couldn't help but peek through the window in the door.
He was holding my wife from behind, his hands wriggling inside her T-shirt, his hard penis pressing tightly against her soft buttocks. My wife was resisting, her hands gripping his tightly, trying to stop him from going any further. His hands were still wriggling, his lips pressed against my wife's earlobe. This time she didn't pull away, and seemed to say something to him. He slowly released his grip on my wife, and I quickly turned around and took two steps forward.
After a few seconds, my wife pushed open the door and came out.
"Why didn't you save me just now!" My wife was furious as soon as she saw me.
"Which time are you talking about?" I lit a cigarette.
"Well...well..." My wife suddenly lost her earlier arrogance. "Honey, actually...actually...it's not like that."
"What is it?"
I looked into her eyes, my tone softening, but my gaze sharp. She seemed flustered, deliberately avoiding my gaze.
"Let's go somewhere else." I noticed several waiters standing nearby; after all, this kind of topic wasn't suitable for public discussion.
Taking advantage of the fact that no one was looking, I quickly pulled my wife to a luxurious private room. We had been here before for company gatherings, and I had noticed that no one was in the restroom when we passed by earlier.
There was a separate restroom inside. I pulled my wife inside and locked the door.
I hugged my wife from behind, just like others had done to her earlier, pressing my hard penis tightly against her soft buttocks. The difference was, she didn't resist. She knew my intention in bringing her here, and she clearly knew what I was going to do to her. She cooperated by rising on her tiptoes, sticking her buttocks up, and slightly twisting to meet my movements.
I slipped my hands under her T-shirt, across her waist. Her bra wasn't fastened properly, still in the position of someone who had violated her. My hands easily bypassed her defenses, touching her nipples, my palms curved, tightly grasping her breasts.
"What did he just say to you?"
"He told me to come with him." She braced herself against the wall, her head buried between her arms.
"And then?"
"He wouldn't let me leave if I didn't agree."
"So you agreed?" I lifted her short skirt with one hand.
"Um... um... actually, it wasn't really an agreement." My wife hesitated.
"Say it." My hand moved between her legs, her panties sticky.
"I said I'd talk about it later, but he wouldn't let me go, so I agreed. Actually... actually... I didn't really agree in my heart."
What did she mean by not really agreeing in her heart? She clearly desperately wanted it. Women can really pretend. Suddenly, a wave of jealousy surged through me. But in this situation, the jealousy mixed with desire actually excited me, my pants almost bursting.
I released her and quickly pulled off her panties.
"What happened today?" I asked, exploring her pubic area.
"I don't know. I couldn't control myself... Honey, I really didn't mean to." My wife turned to look at me, her eyes seemingly apologetic. "Actually, it was when you were asleep..." My wife turned back, returning to her previous position. "He kept urging me to drink, rubbing his glass against my chest. I couldn't get angry, after all, he's your classmate."
"Spread your legs." My wife obediently spread her legs, allowing me to invade her private area. "And then?" I continued to ask her.
"Then, then he took advantage of it and touched me..."
"Where did he touch you?" I unzipped my pants. Her words, "touched me," sounded so pitiful, reigniting my lust.
"He touched my legs, I pushed him away, but then I was afraid it would be awkward if you woke up, so I let him."
"Hmm, continue." I found the right spot and gently slid into that bottomless abyss.
"He touched my thighs, touched my breasts, and even unhooked my bra. Mmm... Husband, hurry up, ah!" A night of teasing finally culminated in this moment, and my wife lost control once again.
"He lifted my clothes, touched me, and kissed me. Ah! Husband." My wife grabbed my hand and squeezed her breasts. "He kissed your wife's nipples, husband, he even licked them.
Husband, hurry up, husband..." At this point, she had completely lost her mind. She would do this sometimes, but today, this moment came especially quickly.
I sped up.
"He's on top of me, husband, he's on top of your wife. He wants to do me, husband."
"Will you let him?" My wife's words excited me to the extreme, and I frantically increased my speed.
"Let! Let! Husband, I'll let you both do it together." My wife turned her head and kissed me, kissing me passionately.
I held her waist and moved wildly, her breasts rising and falling with each thrust.
"Ah!" My wife's whole body was burning hot, and a high-pitched moan heralded her second orgasm of the night.
I slowed down, sharing the moment with her; she was trembling.
"Honey, hold me."
I stopped moving, hugged her tightly from behind, and kissed her…
I went back to the private room first. My classmate sat on the sofa, leisurely smoking and drinking.
"So long? Did you go to the bathroom… hehe… by yourself… hmm?" My classmate smiled smugly at me.
I ignored him and sat back down.
"Exciting today, huh? This woman is really…" He paused, then suddenly moved closer to me, grinning mischievously, "Tell me honestly, have you… slept with her?"
"Huh? Of course not!"
"Really? Hehe…" He kept smiling at me.
"Let's call it a day?" I took a sip of my drink. "It's getting late, and… besides, it'll be hard to get along with colleagues later." I admit, at this moment, I hesitated. After venting, I was much more clear-headed, and the thought of giving my lovely wife away was truly painful.
"Wait, what time is it? Everyone's just getting into the swing of things." He seemed a little anxious, moving closer to me again. "You know what? She just agreed to come with me."
"Really?" I looked at him with feigned surprise.
"Of course." He regained his smug expression.
"Then I should go even more."
"Don't you want to try this sexy, soft body?" He made a gesture while revealing a lewd smile.
"I do want to, but..." Before I could finish speaking, the door was pushed open, and my wife floated in like a fairy, her floral dress swaying from side to side with her two fair legs. Her slightly flushed cheeks, paired with light lipstick, and her long black hair draped over her delicate pink shoulders, she walked gracefully, and a captivating fragrance wafted towards us.
"Why did you take so long?" He looked at her affectionately and made way for her.
"Just touched up my makeup." My wife smiled at us, without even the slightest hint of awkwardness.
Sometimes, I truly admire women. They can be dignified and elegant, yet instantly transform into a seductive vixen; they can make you feel unattainable, then in the blink of an eye, they can feign pitifulness and elicit pity. She can make a man feel easily obtained, yet she can withdraw at any time; to me, her husband, she can satisfy my needs anytime, anywhere, yet I feel constantly insecure. My two colleagues are both eyeing this woman. He covets her beauty and body, while I crave novelty, excitement, and a lifelong emotional connection. Can one have both?
My wife is sitting between us again. He keeps showering her with attention, while she merely smiles and applauds him, occasionally gently pushing away his invasive hands. We sit there, chatting idly, time passing by.
"Are you hungry?" he asks, placing his hand on her shoulder once more.
“Okay, let’s go get something to eat.” My wife stood up, ready to leave. Her action surprised us both. But then I realized she wanted to leave this awkward situation, and besides, she must be a little hungry. She usually doesn’t eat or eats very little before going to public events, saying she needs to be hungry to be in her best condition. “There’s still half a bottle of red wine, let’s finish it before we go.” He divided the wine evenly.
“Okay, bottoms up.” My wife finished hers in one gulp, picked up her bag, went to the door, and turned to look at us.
“Okay, okay, bottoms up!” He also downed his drink.
I don’t know who could hold their liquor better, but I’m definitely not in their league. But there was nothing I could do at the moment, so I drank mine too.
Stepping out of the KTV, I felt dizzy, a familiar feeling washing over me again. I staggered to the flowerbed, but just dry heaved, unable to vomit anything.
“Are you alright?” They both supported me, one on each side.
"It's nothing...it's nothing...really nothing."
"Should I take you home?" my wife asked with concern.
"How can you manage alone? Why don't we take him home together?"
"No need, I'm really fine."
"It's alright, I can take him home by myself." My wife knew that as soon as he came to our house, everything would be exposed. Even if he didn't come in, where would she go after dropping me off?
"How about this, let's go to my room and buy something to eat upstairs. Okay?" We couldn't refuse this suggestion at the time; it was the best solution out of necessity.
"The hotel is just ahead, only a few steps away." They helped me walk slowly forward.
Once in the room, I collapsed onto the bed, feeling dizzy and not even wanting to open my eyes.
"Rest for a while, let's go buy something to eat upstairs." He pulled my wife, trying to lead me out.
"You go ahead, he's had too much to drink, I'll keep an eye on him."
"I can't carry all this stuff, you should come with me."
"I'm not going." "Go ahead."
"Go ahead, go ahead, I'm fine." My head was already throbbing, and listening to their back-and-forth made me even more annoyed.
"Are you really okay?" my wife asked with concern.
"Yeah. Go ahead, bring me a Coke."
"Okay, if your head hurts, wash your face." My wife pulled the blanket up to cover my stomach. "Don't get cold again, is there anything else you want to eat?"
"Nothing, just Coke is fine."
"Okay, we're leaving then."
"Turn off the light, it's too bright."
"Okay, we'll be right back, you rest."
My wife's concern warmed my heart; those few words of nagging were more precious than ever.
Suddenly, my mind cleared, and the drunkenness subsided considerably.
Would he lay a hand on my wife? He definitely would! Would she resist? I don't know. What if he forced himself on her…? My wife's frail body was no match for him. Wouldn't he? There were so many people on the street. He would kiss her! Would she accept? Would she cooperate? She was dressed so sexily, he could easily have her! What's wrong with touching her? Suddenly, images of him groping her flashed through my mind, his hands wantonly playing with my wife's full breasts; his hands groping and thrusting inside her panties.
If he hugged her from behind like I did, would she also so easily pull down her panties, letting him penetrate her completely...? Thinking of this, I shamefully became aroused. With
a jolt, I sat up in bed.
Using the light streaming in from the window, I observed the layout of the room. It was a rectangular room with two sofas and a round table on the left, placed side by side against the window. In the middle was a large bed, and on the right was the bathroom. Directly in front were a TV cabinet and a dressing table.
Looking at my disheveled hair and haggard face in the mirror, I felt increasingly ashamed. My beautiful wife was with another man, and I was so indifferent. Frustrated, I got out of bed, lit a cigarette, and sat on the sofa. Looking out the window, I saw several food stalls open for business. My room was on the second floor, so I could clearly see what was happening below. "Will they buy something here? Probably," I thought to myself.
I checked my watch; it was exactly 11 o'clock. More than three hours had passed since my wife entered the KTV room. So much had happened in those short three hours, all my fault. I wanted my wife to become a seductive woman, to fully display her allure to other men. I always thought I could accept it. But with the reality before me, I hesitated. If I weren't drunk, I would have ended this game. I
took a few deep drags on my cigarette, the smoke swirling and dancing in the air. When it touched the cold glass, it clung tightly, spreading outwards before quickly escaping through the window cracks… Wait! It's them! Why did it take so long? Did something happen? I jolted awake and peered down.
A gentle breeze caused my wife's short skirt to flutter, revealing glimpses of her fair thighs. Her low-cut T-shirt exposed her white shoulders, the black bra strap standing out starkly in the night.
They walked side by side, not arm in arm, not around the waist; aside from the occasional brush of their arms, there was virtually no physical contact.
I breathed a sigh of relief. They must have searched high and low before discovering the food street behind the hotel; they certainly weren't doing anything shady.
My wife's sexy outfit certainly attracted the attention of the surrounding diners, with most men's eyes fixed on her. Her full hips and slender waist were dazzling under the streetlights, her full breasts rising and falling with the rhythm of her high heels.
He should be very proud, with all the men's eyes on the woman beside him; she should be very proud, with all the men swooning over her.
They found a table by the roadside and sat down. He was half-lying on the table, staring at my lovely wife; she held the menu, her face beaming; the waiter, bending low, peered through her wide neckline, still lingering even after the order was placed.
He was teasing her, and she giggled, looking at his face. Normally, in front of most men, she was always so cold and aloof. Such a man could certainly be considered a heartbreaker.
Whether it was the alcohol or what I'd witnessed, my face felt flushed, and my head ached. I got up and went to the bathroom to wash my face and clear my head.
In the bathroom, I didn't dare turn on the light, I don't know why. Was I afraid they'd know I was awake and miss a passionate scene? Actually, they couldn't possibly know which window was our room. At that moment, my thoughts were a jumbled mess, this chaotic feeling constantly swirling around me. Reason was battling with desire. The tap was running, and I buried my face in the water, hoping the cold water would extinguish all my thoughts. I didn't want to think, and I didn't have the energy to think. I just wanted to collapse into bed and sleep until dawn. I didn't want to know anything; what was meant to happen would happen. I just wanted to get as far away from it all as possible.
But I was wrong. I didn't need to think. That window kept beckoning me, like a magnetic field drawing my attention. Those few minutes felt like an eternity.
I couldn't help but return to that sofa, that window… Ah? They were kissing!
He was caressing her waist, she was wrapped around his neck, they were pressed tightly together. His hands roamed over her body, she was enjoying his tenderness.
I went to the restroom and missed so many details. Who initiated it? It must have been him. Did she resist? How long did they kiss? All of this is now lost to time. In those few minutes, I missed so much, including a chance to truly understand my wife.
I hid behind the curtains, spying on them. The room was completely dark, and even though I knew they couldn't see me, I still covered most of my body with the curtains.
They kept kissing, and his hand was exploring her breasts. Although I couldn't see every detail like in a high-definition film, I could still make out the general situation.
My wife didn't resist at all, letting him caress her in full view of everyone. They were like a couple, entwined together.
My heart pounded, and instinctively, I lit a cigarette behind the curtains and took a few deep drags. This distant spying wasn't as direct as in a karaoke bar, but the anger, jealousy, and long-awaited anticipation all mingled together, as if their affair had been discovered. Before I knew it, my desire surged again, and all my previous rationality vanished in an instant.
They continued, and I dared not leave for even a moment. Time ticked by, and they made no further move, but I craved a more dramatic scene. I saw him unhook my wife's bra and pull down her panties, her voluptuous body exposed layer by layer under the dim streetlights; I wanted to see a man unleash his primal, wolfish nature in front of his beautiful wife, not this demure, tender display. After
what seemed like an eternity, they separated. My wife straightened her clothes, while he, seemingly unsatisfied, held her hand and whispered in her ear. My wife gently pushed him away and shook her head, but he leaned in again, repeating this several times.
I don't know what they said, but I saw my wife quickly glance around and move closer to him. Her hands went to her chest, grasping her collar and gently pulling it open.
Huh? She actually… my wife actually willingly opened her collar to let another man see her breasts. My blood boiled again.
She rested her head on his shoulder, her hands clutching her wide collar, like a docile little lamb. He lowered his head, greedily gazing at the beautiful scene before him.
This scene lasted for almost a minute, and in that brief minute, my blood surged.
They separated again, sitting upright. He was no longer satisfied with these superficial things; he craved her completely. For over three hours, she had been passionately passionate and icy towards him, a thousand times more difficult than simple seduction. She wasn't skilled in this art, but my presence made her perform almost perfectly. For him, a fair and tender body had been before his eyes all night; he knew every inch of her skin intimately. His eyes, his hands, his tongue had tasted it countless times, and each time he thought he could easily capture her, she would quickly turn indifferent. He failed time and time again, but started again, unyielding. I must say he was a man of strong will. What made him so determined, so persistent despite repeated failures? The answer must be this beautiful married woman whom everyone wanted to kiss.
The waiter brought over the packed food, his gaze lingering on my wife's neckline for a few seconds. After paying, he put his arm around her waist and left the food stall, like a couple, all lovey-dovey. He definitely wouldn't give up so easily. I wondered to myself, where would they be? In a dark alley? Or… yes, they would definitely bring the food back.
I quickly grabbed the ashtray from the table and went to the bathroom, emptied the ashes into the toilet, washed the ashtray clean, and put it back. I carefully put everything I had touched—curtains, chairs, everything—back to its original place. I quickly returned to bed, put away my shoes, and pulled the covers over myself. I lay on the side closest to the bathroom, exactly as they had left it. I knew nothing, saw nothing, nothing that had happened was irrelevant to me; I was just sleeping.
I lay motionless on the bed, eyes closed. What was I doing? Even a couple having an affair could do it openly, why was I being so secretive? I didn't know; my thoughts were a mess, I had no idea what was controlling me.
Time seemed to crawl by. I eagerly awaited his sudden burst of speed, his ruthless stripping of her clothes, his pounce on my delicate wife like a hungry wolf, and his groveling beneath her soft body. My wife would spread her legs, letting him rise and fall, her breath coming in gasps and moans. Wasn't this exactly what I'd been waiting for? My heart pounded; even in this warm season, I felt a shiver.
Time flowed by like a gentle stream, I couldn't quite gauge it, but it had certainly been a long time. My emotions began to calm, and my heartbeat returned to normal. This was perfect; otherwise, everyone would know I was faking sleep. Could they be in the alley? A sense of unease crept in again.
The beeping of the key card quickly pulled me from my chaotic thoughts. "It's them, it must be them." At that moment, my intelligence seemed to plummet. If it wasn't them, who else could it be?
They couldn't have done anything; perhaps they were just flirting and caressing each other in a secluded spot.
They entered, their movements quiet and stealthy. I closed my eyes tightly, barely daring to breathe through my nose.
My wife called my name softly, and I didn't dare move.
They didn't turn on the light, just gently put their things down.
"He's asleep." It was his voice.
"Mmm." My wife's voice.
Then came the sounds of embracing and kissing, not loud, but their heavy breathing was clearly audible.
"I want you." His voice.
"Mmm...no." My wife seemed to struggle, accompanied by the sound of her clothes being pulled, followed by the sound of clothes being thrown onto the sofa.
"Your skin is so smooth."
"No..." Apart from my wife's heavy breathing and the few words squeezed out between her teeth, there were only the sounds of their bodies intertwined.
"Your breasts are so big, so comfortable."
My wife must be completely naked, or at least half-naked. Their upper bodies must be pressed together. I felt an unusual swelling in my lower body.
"Ah..." my wife moaned softly. He must be teasing her nipples, her most sensitive spot.
"No..." came another muffled groan from my wife.
"Take it off, don't wrinkle it."
"No... ah..." I felt the bed sink, followed by a struggle, and then the sound of belts being unbuckled and clothes being thrown down.
Were we both completely naked? So fast? My wife was stripped naked so quickly? Just a few minutes ago, I was expecting him to quickly pin my wife down like a hungry wolf, but now, I felt conflicted. My wife is indeed beautiful, sexy, and somewhat wanton, but kindness and virtue are also her essence. In just a few minutes, she was naked and exposed to a man, a man she had only known for a few hours. Perhaps she was afraid of waking me, she didn't want me to see her in such a disheveled state; perhaps she thought that with my tacit approval, she could have any kind of relationship with this man. Should I stop her? If I stop her, all of this can still be salvaged; my wife is still my only one, her body is still mine alone. If I let it go, she will spend time with another man, and right next to her husband. That handsome man, whose soul wasn't particularly noble, would soon treat her as a delicious meal, ravaging her relentlessly and unleashing all his lust upon her. She might be happy, but he would be even happier. And me? Would I be happy? I truly didn't know. Those who hadn't experienced that moment couldn't possibly understand. As all my fantasies were about to become reality, I wavered once more.
I strained to open my eyes, hoping to see something. But I saw nothing but the pitch-black bathroom. The entire room was dark, except for the scattered streetlights streaming in from the window. I dared not move, searching for any reflection within the range of my eyeballs to try and see what lay behind me. But it was all in vain, futile.
I suddenly remembered there was a dressing table directly opposite me, and even with the dim light, I could see everything behind it. But I dared not move, despite my burning desire to know everything. I dared to open my eyes wide, but I still dared not move my body, frozen there, my heart pounding like a thousand ants.
Suddenly, I felt something moving behind me, and that familiar scent slowly approached. It was my wife's scent. What was she doing? She must be checking to see if I was asleep. She felt guilty; although desire had overcome reason, she still considered herself my wife and shouldn't let me see this. Even if she knew, it wasn't now, not when a female animal is in heat.
I quickly closed my eyes. In just a few minutes, I had mastered the control of my eyelid movements, meaning I could slightly open my eyes while keeping my face expressionless, as if I were sound asleep.
My wife's arm wrapped around my body, bracing herself on the other side of the bed, and she moved closer. She didn't dare touch me, afraid of waking me. I opened my eyes slightly again. I was confident she couldn't see me in this light; she could only judge my sleep by my breathing. But even if she knew I wasn't asleep, she wouldn't stop the game. The die was cast; she wouldn't stop unless I stood up to stop her. Women are women; they can't be so meticulous, but this ritual was necessary to ease her anxiety.
Sure enough, my wife's upper body was completely naked. Her two full breasts were exposed. Due to her position, they rested gently on the blanket.
The light was dim, and I couldn't see her facial expression, but I could clearly see her breasts trembling slightly. Her breasts, which I had caressed and suckled countless times, looked especially alluring in this environment. I really wanted to give them a good squeeze. "Tell you he's asleep. He sleeps soundly at school; no matter how much you disturb him, he won't wake up."
"Um… sigh, pull me over, I can't get over." With all the weight on her hands, it was indeed difficult for my wife to crawl over without touching me.
"Okay, sure." A pair of large hands reached out and stopped on my wife's breasts.
"Pull me over." My wife's voice was soft; ever since entering the room, she had been speaking in a low voice, making it sound incredibly delicate and endearing. "Your big boobs feel so good to touch." He said, kneading them vigorously.
"Mmm, you're so naughty!" This was the first time I'd heard my wife act coquettishly towards him today. Perhaps they were like this when they were alone, only holding back in front of me.
"I want to come in." He pressed his entire body against my wife's back, his hands still playing with her two plump breasts, kneading them vigorously. Her breasts deformed under his caresses, her nipples peeking out from between his fingers, only to be tightly pinched back.
"No, I can't take it anymore." My wife's voice rose an octave.
"Oh." He was somewhat disappointed, but still pulled her over, supporting her breasts.
Darkness returned; even with my eyes wide open, it was still darkness. A dark ceiling, dark walls.
"Mmm... mmm..." My wife murmured softly. Her nipples, earlobes, and armpits were all sensitive areas, but under a stranger she'd only known for a few hours, simple physical contact was enough to make her overflow with desire, let alone a seasoned lover like him.
"I want to take a shower," my wife said.
"You can go after you're done."
"No. I have to shower."
"Why do I have to shower? You smell so good." He hadn't stopped caressing my wife; I could feel him writhing against her body.
"It's because you... um... so many times."
"You've been wet so many times, haven't you? Haha." He let out his signature lewd laugh. "Let me touch it... oh, it's wet again."
"Don't touch it, ugh... you're so annoying." Thinking of my wife naked, being teased by him beneath me, I felt a surge of jealousy, wanting to punch him. But then I thought, wasn't that how I treated the woman beneath me? Actually, women enjoy being teased in bed; even the crudest words become flirtatious words in bed. "Don't move, let me touch it again." I could feel our bodies writhing.
"I'm not playing with you anymore, I'm going to take a shower." My wife broke free from his grasp.
"My slippers are here." He rummaged through the bedside table and pulled out slippers, trying to appease me. "Let's shower together."
"No." Then came the sound of her getting out of bed and putting on her slippers.
I quickly closed my eyes slightly, just like before, leaving a tiny gap.
Footsteps passed the TV cabinet and the dressing table, gradually approaching my side. I tried to keep my eyelids closed, staring at the space less than two meters between the bed and the bathroom.
She came closer, and the first thing I saw was my wife's full breasts, swaying up and down with each step. She walked past, revealing her back and buttocks. Sigh, wearing underwear?
My wife's transparent underwear covered her round buttocks.
I suddenly understood; every time he touched her genitals, she resisted fiercely, she just didn't want him to notice the traces of another man inside her. My wife and I had a brief encounter at the karaoke bar, leaving a large amount of semen inside her. Although she spent a long time cleaning in the restroom, the smell was still hard to mask. She wanted to offer her new lover a clean and fragrant body. The restroom door was gently pushed open, and the light was turned on. Instantly, the whole room became much brighter.
"Don't come in," my wife turned around and smiled at the person behind me.
"Okay, um... but let me see your lower body." The voice came from behind me.
"No way!" My wife's angry voice was so sweet. Bang! The door slammed shut.
But less than two seconds later, the door opened again.
My wife stood half-naked in the doorway, her slightly exposed teeth gently biting her lip. Her left hand was twirling her nipple, her legs crossed, and her right hand's fingers slowly slid from her thigh to the edge of her underwear. She tilted her hips slightly outward and gently tugged at her underwear, the downward force making her buttocks cleavage faintly visible. She turned her hips completely towards us, leaned forward, and placed her hands on the top edge of her underwear. She slowly bent her knees, her panties slipping down inch by inch until her entire buttocks were fully exposed before us. Her full, flawless buttocks, and the black pubic hair between her legs, were even more alluring. The transparent panties fell between her legs, and her fingers moved upwards from her thighs once more, gliding over the dark forest, over her buttocks, over her waist, before finally opening her hand completely and grasping her right breast.
She turned her head and smiled, her hand still slightly twitching as she grasped her right breast. "Is it pretty?" Her soft voice drowned out the breathing behind me.
"Pretty…you…" Before I could finish speaking, the door closed again.
"Don't peek." A voice came from inside the glass door.
A moment later, the sound of running water could be heard inside, but outside, all was quiet. I finally dared to open my eyes fully and carefully observe the bathroom through the light. Like a budget hotel, it had frosted glass windows taller than a person. Through the frosted glass, I could vaguely see the outlines inside, but the shower stall had a sliding door, making it impossible to discern anything inside. Above the frosted glass was a row of clear glass, printed with the hotel's logo. Through the gaps in the lettering, the ceiling and chandeliers were clearly visible.
This tranquility lasted less than a minute before the man behind me began to stir. He seemed to stand up and, on the bed, took steps forward. He came to where I was standing, peering inside. He was standing naked, his right hand lightly stroking his genitals—not very thick, but quite long.
My wife was about to be conquered by this ugly thing, and I couldn't help but feel a little reluctant. But the thought of her wanton way of taking off her underwear just now rekindled my passion.
After playing around for a while, he was probably no longer satisfied with just peeping. He tiptoed out of bed, went to the bedside table next to me, and took out another pair of slippers.
Was he going to go in? Didn't he say he wouldn't go in? Didn't he promise me that?
My heart started pounding again. A mature and beautiful woman and a naked man—I didn't want to think about it anymore, and I couldn't help but think about it, because the door had already opened… A cloud of steam instantly enveloped the somewhat dark-skinned man. In an instant, the steam was blocked again, and the door closed once more.
"Ah!" A scream came from inside the glass door, followed by the sound of the shower door opening and closing. Then, everything returned to normal, except for the trickling water.
There was no obstruction, and there could be no more resistance; at least, not even the slightest sound of struggle was heard. In that cramped space, they were both naked. His wife's petite body was probably already in his arms. His hard genitals were rubbing against something, his hands lingering on some skin. The bright light illuminated their alluring bodies, and even a trickle of water couldn't extinguish the fire in my heart.
What were they doing? I didn't know. I wanted to peek through the transparent glass, but my legs felt like they weighed a ton; my heart felt like a million ants were crawling inside me, but I still couldn't move. I was afraid they would see me. If they suddenly appeared and saw me, what was I doing? Was I spying?
My wife was bathing naked with another man, and I was standing outside the door spying.
Everyone has a dark side, but that side is something they never want to be discovered. I didn't want them to see me.
Struggling, struggling, time passed second by second, my body stiff on the bed. Actually, with just a simple movement, all the details inside would be laid bare, but I still didn't move. My heart was pounding, but my hands and feet were numb.
With a snap, the shower door opened. The sound of running water stopped, and slippers slapped against the wet floor. Perhaps they were drying themselves? Who was drying whom?
How were they drying? I had no energy to think about these things; my mind was blank.
A series of hurried footsteps approached. I strained my eyes, trying to see through the frosted glass.
I could only see shadows, two shadows that were initially spaced apart but were now pressed tightly together. An indescribable sound came from inside, I couldn't tell if it was a kiss or the rubbing of skin. I tried to discern whether the two figures were moving up and down, but no. There was no sound of bodies colliding.
Slowly, slowly, they continued their intimacy, as if time had stood still. This night had gone from ambiguous to wanton. Should this wantonness end or continue? End? Had his wife's body actually been taken by him? If so, ending it now would be meaningless. Continue? Should they continue? She had never been so sexy and alluring, especially the way she pulled down her underwear. She was naked and entangled with a man. Let it go, let it go, let this depravity be even more complete.
The bathroom door opened, and I tightly closed my eyes. In that instant between opening and closing the door, two naked bodies flashed by… “Turn off the light,” my wife’s voice said.
One body gently fell behind me, and then another gently pressed down on top of me. When I opened my eyes again, the room was completely dark.
I struggled to make out the sounds behind me while trying to adjust to the darkness.
The two bodies were writhing wildly, the blanket had been moved all the way behind me, pressed tightly against my back, pressing against my body while also providing a sense of security.
My wife’s moans were incessant, and her writhing became more and more intense. I was too exhausted to think about those so-called moral boundaries; my mind was filled with the erotic scene behind me.
What was the difference between this and ordinary physical contact? Wasn’t it just sensitive parts coming together? Afterwards, neither of us would lose anything. She would still be the same person, and he would be far away from this city. At that moment, I felt a sense of relief. Throughout the night, lust repeatedly overcame my reason, but at this moment, I felt as if I had finally let go of all my burdens.
I knew there was a mirror opposite, and through it, I could definitely see what was happening behind me. I truly regretted not moving an inch when they went to the bathroom. Even adjusting my position by just 10 centimeters would have allowed me to see what I was doing.
"I'm coming in."
"Mmm." My wife's voice was already indistinct.
This scene was about to unfold, and I felt my heart leap out of my chest, my body trembling uncontrollably.
"Ah..." My wife's long moan signaled that she had been taken by him.
The bed shook incessantly, and the person behind me writhed, accompanied by my wife's slightly low moans, filling the air with an atmosphere of lewdness.
My wife was clearly lowering her voice, because this was completely unlike her usual bold style.
I slowly turned my body towards them, eager to see this long-awaited scene. One millimeter, one millimeter, I felt my movements were already quite large, but my gaze was still a long way from the mirror.
"Your breasts look so good when they bounce."
He was still working hard, and his wife's moans were getting more and more urgent.
"You're squeezing me so tight, it feels so good."
His wife still didn't speak; her moans were the best reward for him.
The rhythm of the thrusting got faster and faster, and the vibration of the bed got stronger and stronger. I felt like I was going to be bounced up; I couldn't control myself anymore.
I looked for their pattern, three shallow thrusts followed by one deep one, or nine shallow thrusts followed by one deep one. At the same time as the deepest thrust, I quickly twisted my body, as if I were being bounced up by a spring, and I went from lying completely on my side to lying half-on my back.
"Hurry up." His wife's voice was slightly tense; she probably sensed my movements.
"You like it fast?" His voice was a notch louder.
"Shh... um, hurry up."
The movements obviously sped up, and the bed was shaking rapidly. In this position, I could see half a mirror; the man was thrusting vigorously.
I could only see the man's body and the woman's legs; her legs were wrapped around his waist, and her body was definitely enjoying the man's thrusting.
"Your body drives me crazy; I can't take it anymore." The man sped up again.
"Mmm...don't ejaculate inside."
In the mirror, she desperately twisted her legs to meet his final frenzy.
"Quick, quick." His wife writhed with all her might.
"Ah..." After a low, angry roar, the man calmed down, and the room fell silent again.
"Kiss me, kiss me." His wife's hands wrapped around his neck, pressing him tightly against her body.
Another round of passionate lovemaking ensued.
"I told you not to ejaculate inside."
"Too late." The man's tone held a hint of amusement.
"Mmm." His wife seemed exhausted.
"I'm going to wash up, I'm all sweaty." He slowly moved away from his wife's body. "Shall we wash together?"
"You go first, I'll wait." His wife remained weak and listless.
The man's reflection disappeared from the mirror, leaving only the woman. She lay there, wiping herself with a tissue.
The bathroom light turned on, the door closed, leaving only my wife and me in the room.
The light made her reflection even clearer. She slowly sat up, her breasts swaying gently.
She used several tissues to clean up the remaining liquid. She sat there, head slightly lowered, her long hair disheveled, still beautiful, still sexy, yet carrying an indescribable feeling, a hint of faded beauty.
She braced herself on the bed, slowly raising her body, I didn't know if she wanted to take a shower or something. My desire had reached its peak; I had completely lost control.
Just as she was about to leave the bed, driven by some unknown force, I quickly sat up.
She was startled, frozen in place. Her body, which had tried to leave the bed, stiffened.
My hands reached around her back to her chest, quickly pulling her naked, warm body in front of me.
She didn't move, nor did she dare look at me, remaining silent as I violated her body.
"Lie down," I said, my voice trembling.
My wife obediently lay down, her snow-white, voluptuous body once again in the same position.
Her face was turned to the side, covered by her hair, so I couldn't see her expression. Was it shame, innocence, or the flush of passion?
I quickly stripped off all my clothes and just as quickly lay down beside my wife's sexy body.
I was trembling, not from the cold, and she was trembling too, certainly not from the cold.
My hands roamed over her body, my lips lingering between her breasts. Her body stood upright, though still so supple. I wanted to lie on top of her, like that man. I felt I must look shameless, shamelessly venting my lust.
I couldn't use the same position as that man, because I didn't want her to see my face; I didn't know what was written on my face. I didn't want to see her face either; I didn't want to see those heartbreaking tear stains.
"Turn to your side," my wife obediently turned her body again.
I lay on my side behind her, my left hand around her neck, twisting her breast, my right hand lifting her right leg. Actually, I didn't even need to lift a finger; my wife had already gotten into position. She knew what she was supposed to do—a woman who had just pleased one man was about to satisfy another.
It was easy to penetrate her completely; I knew this lubricant contained the fluids of three people.
It felt wonderful, an indescribable pleasure.
"Husband," my wife's voice was hoarse. I ignored her, just gently thrusting.
"Husband, I was out of my mind today. I don't…" My wife's voice trembled with tears.
I felt a pang of pity for her, and gently covered her mouth.
My hands moved to her breasts, kneading them vigorously, my lower body still moving mechanically.
"Husband, I love you, husband, please forgive me, okay?" My wife's words quickened, her hips responding eagerly to my thrusts.
"Wife, I love you too." Actually, her beautiful body is something I could never bear to give up, even if she were a fallen woman, even if she'd had affairs with countless men, I would still be obsessed with her body for the rest of my life.
"Husband, um, husband." Her face turned towards me, indeed still bearing traces of tears. "Don't leave me." With that, her lips pressed against mine.
"Husband, fuck me, husband." Her hands tightly gripped my hands pressed against her chest, her lips raining down on every corner of my face, her hips twisting wildly. "Husband, I'm all yours."
The sound of water in the bathroom stopped, and my wife's previously unrestrained body stopped again. I felt her stiffness once more.
"Husband..." she hesitated.
"Don't say anything." I continued thrusting vigorously, returning my wife to the previous position, my hands tightly embracing her.
The bathroom door opened, and instead of a surprised exclamation, footsteps slowly approached.
My wife's moans seemed to abruptly stop; she bit her lip, even her eyelids tightly closed.
He came over, also completely naked. I didn't look at him directly, only glancing at him out of the corner of my eye before returning my gaze to my wife. I've never understood my feelings at that moment—was it jealousy, or a hope that he was jealous? Was it proof, but to whom? Was it the arrogance of passionate release, or the enduring love for my wife? I don't know; I just kept repeating the same actions.
He came to my wife's side and knelt at the head of the bed. He looked at us, expressionless. My wife's hands were covered by her chest, her eyes still closed. She was silent, simply accepting my body and his gaze.
His hand lightly brushed across her thigh, and with that one touch, my wife's body trembled with unusual sensitivity. Not only her body, but even the point of contact felt a distinct, tight contraction.
His hand moved to her chest, gently removing her hands from her chest. She was at a loss, her hands hanging limply in mid-air.
I knew she was helpless; I knew she desperately wanted me to give her a sense of security. My right hand gripped her right hand tightly, and my left hand wouldn't let go of her left hand either.
Wife, savor this passion to the fullest. I'll always be by your side.
My wife, her hands clasped in mine, fully exposed herself to the second man. His lips pressed against her nipple, his left hand swirling around the other. This stimulation was unlike anything my wife had ever experienced before; her juices slowly welled up, flowing endlessly.

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