A respectable young woman tries prostitution for the first time.

The feeling of flesh writhing beneath me was so wonderful. I passionately kissed Junjun's moist red lips, kneading her tender breasts. Listening to her alluring moans, my mind habitually conjured up images of myself as the man who usually craved her but never had the chance.

I don't know when it started, but this fantasy had become the best stimulation during sex with my wife. I fantasized about one of those men finally succeeding, getting my wife into bed, and forcibly taking her virginity amidst her desperate pleas. I fantasize about him pinning his trembling wife down, ignoring her feeble protests, his enormous penis thrusting into her pure vagina, wantonly venting on her body, ejaculating into her uterus again and again… At this moment, his wife would close her eyes tightly, imagining being violated by that man, calling out his name in a wanton, seductive voice, begging for his conquest.

His wife's clients and bosses are frequent objects of his fantasies, as are my friends, the doctors at the hospital, and so on. But today, my imagination is richer than usual. I want her to wear the sexy short skirt I bought for her, go to a bar to work as a hostess, let strange, lewd men fondle her body, lick her neck, and finally stuff a dirty two hundred yuan between her breasts.

Thinking of this, I became extremely excited. My lips left her earlobe, and I whispered in her ear as if in a dream, "Wife, how about I take you out to sell yourself?"

My wife, aroused by my caresses, chuckled, "Are you willing to do that?"

"That's precisely why it's exciting! Not selling my body, just letting them take advantage of me..."

"Do you want to see me being touched?"

"Yes, watching you have your breasts and butt touched by strangers, letting them touch your whole body for two hundred dollars."

"Oh... what if he wants to do it?"

"Then name a high price... three thousand dollars."

"What if he's willing to pay?"

"Then let him do it."

"You're bad! Letting someone do your wife for three thousand dollars!"

"That's quite a lot of money... besides, I want to see it..."

"He definitely won't let you see it."

"Then I'll listen at the door. Don't you have a lot of rich clients who want to sleep with you? Are they willing to pay three thousand?"

"Definitely... Okay, honey, you stand at the door and collect the money, let them line up and come in one by one to fuck me, treat me like a bitch and vent their frustrations on me!"

"You filthy bitch!" I felt so good listening to that, and I slapped her across the face.

"Oh! Hit me! Treat me like a bitch and fuck me!" Junjun's beautiful face flushed red from the slap, but it only made her more excited.

I didn't hold back as I fucked her and hit her, and I insulted her from time to time, even spitting on her face, which made her scream louder. Women really are animals with a masochistic fetish, and luckily I also like this feeling, especially the thrill of conquest. That night, like any other, I made love to her for about an hour, finally releasing my pent-up emotions by yelling in her ear.

Fantasizing is one thing, but actually doing it is another. Perhaps every man with a cuckold complex has this dilemma! Imagining his wife in another man's arms is so exciting, but if it actually happened, seeing his beloved wife being played with, would the pleasure really outweigh the jealousy? I don't know. With this apprehensive feeling, my wife and I started making plans.

Her biggest concern wasn't being played with by another man, but rather being seen by acquaintances. Women are so fickle and self-deceiving. She suggested going to another city to have some fun, but I was afraid of being in an unfamiliar place, especially a place like a dance hall—a mixed bag of people, with no guarantee of safety. So in the end, the two decided to stay in Shanghai and go to a dance hall called YY. It had been popular for a while, but Shanghainese are always fickle, and now very few of my friends go there anymore. I knew the going rate; two or three hundred yuan was enough to sit and touch as much as you wanted. The plan was set, and all that was left was to wait for the right opportunity.

All of Saturday, Junjun was a bit absent-minded, as if thinking about what was going to happen that night, both embarrassed and excited. I saw this and felt excited too, like a child going on a school field trip.

After dinner, my wife went inside to change as planned. I wanted to follow her in to see what she was wearing, but she laughed and pushed me out. After waiting and waiting, the door finally opened halfway, revealing half of my wife's body and a flushed face.

Her meticulously groomed face was captivating, her eyes sparkling, her lips slightly parted. She wore a strapless, midriff-baring tube top, over which a sheer scarf draped, revealing glimpses of her partially exposed breasts. Below, she wore a tight-fitting, low-cut mini-skirt with a slit at the side, exposing her thighs to a height normally unseen by others. Her smooth, long legs were bare of stockings, adorned with black strappy four-inch stilettos that revealed her shapely toes. Even I, who knew every part of her body intimately, couldn't help but exclaim in admiration, my lower body stirring with desire.

My wife asked a little nervously, "Isn't it too revealing?"

I knew tonight's game wasn't just for me; it was also a rare opportunity for her to turn her sexual fantasies into reality. Her outfit was entirely based on her fantasies, but out of female modesty and insecurity, she needed a man's affirmation and support. I repeatedly said she looked beautiful and sexy, and since she was going to play the part of a prostitute, she should dress like one.

With my constant encouragement, Junjun finally made up her mind, but she insisted on waiting until dark to go out like this. Fine, I didn't want to be too conspicuous on the street either.

It was summer, and by the time it was completely dark, it was past nine o'clock. Unable to resist my increasingly restless urging, my wife finally bravely stepped out of the room. Just as she stepped out, she ran into Uncle Chen from upstairs returning home.

Mr. Chen, in his early fifties, had been widowed for many years and had an unmarried son. His biggest hobby was playing mahjong, and today it looked like another fierce battle was about to begin. He was wearing a ripped t-shirt and shorts, and was panting as he climbed to the third floor, fanning himself with a palm leaf fan. When he looked up, he saw Junjun's two beautiful legs swaying gracefully as she walked down the stairs. Looking up from below, he could vaguely see a patch of black under her super short skirt, but he couldn't tell if it was black underwear or nothing at all. Under her silk scarf, most of her breasts were exposed, and a clear cleavage was visible in the middle.

Mr. Chen, who had never seen my wife so exposed before, was stunned, his mouth agape. Junjun's face flushed red, and she quickly said goodbye before pulling me along the road. As we rounded the corner, I glanced back and thought I caught a glimpse of Mr. Chen's face.

Once in the taxi, my wife hugged me tightly and whispered in my ear, "I was so embarrassed! What are we going to do?"

I knew she was referring to Mr. Chen seeing us. Although I was a little nervous, the thought of Mr. Chen's expression excited me, so I replied softly, "What's the big deal? I think it's hilarious. Look at Mr. Chen's expression, he looks like he's drooling! He has nowhere to release his pent-up desire, he's definitely going to be masturbating like crazy tonight." Junjun laughed at my comment and stopped thinking about it.

As we approached YY, I asked the driver to drop me off first, as I didn't want anyone to see us going in together, and I planned to stroll in slowly.

The summer night air was filled with unease and restlessness. The women walking in my direction were all scantily clad, which stirred my emotions.

Entering YY's lobby, the deafening music from upstairs was already faintly audible. It seemed I was walking towards the second floor under the watchful eyes of numerous staff members, though I thought it was just my guilty conscience making me feel uneasy. Even before entering the dance hall, the constant flow of people at the entrance told you the nature of this place. All sorts of men and women were dressed in bizarre and outlandish ways; some were checking their bags, some were waiting for others, and there were always some wandering around, glancing around aimlessly, their identities unclear.

As soon as I entered the main entrance, powerful music vibrated beneath my feet, and the lights from the dance floor on the left filled every corner of the hall. Just as I was about to head to the bar to see where Junjun was, a sweet voice rang in my ears: "Sir, are you here alone?" I turned my head and saw a heavily made-up woman standing next to me. She was quite pretty, and although her smile had a professional air about it, it wasn't unpleasant.

She wore a spaghetti-strap tank top, her full breasts bulging out, practically half of them sticking out; her cropped pants clung tightly to her ample hips and thighs, the thin fabric seemingly unable to contain the burgeoning flesh beneath. Such figures would be considered quite good on YY, I thought.

Noticing my gaze and apparent hesitation, she smiled even more charmingly, placing one hand on the crook of my arm and unconsciously rubbing her breast against my upper arm twice. "Shall we sit down and have a drink?" she said. Taking the opportunity, I pressed my arm against her chest and said, "Sure, sit here for a bit, I'll come back for you."

A flicker of unease crossed her face, as if she feared the half-cooked pig's head would turn into a crane, but then she saw me pull out my wallet, take out a fifty-dollar bill, and give it to her. Her eyes immediately lit up, even the glaring lights around us momentarily dimmed.

"Go buy yourself a drink and sit down to wait for me," I said. Her gaze followed my wallet into my pocket, lingering and distracted as she forced herself to look back at my face. "Mmm," she replied sweetly.

The bar was mostly full, but I shouldn't have trouble finding her. However, after circling around, I couldn't find Junjun. How could this be? We agreed to meet here. I thought discontentedly, "She probably went to the restroom!" I took out my phone and dialed her number: "Unable to reach her temporarily..." Damn it!

I waited another five minutes, and Junjun still hadn't appeared. Could she have...? I rushed to the "private booths" and pretended to casually look around in the dim light. In the dark corners, pairs of shadowy figures huddled together, never revealing the man's hands (at most one). Oh, there seemed to be an exception… wait, wasn't that my wife?

A glance she gave me confirmed my suspicions. Her expression held a hint of resentment, a touch of wantonness, and a dash of embarrassment, all mixed with a somewhat mechanical smile that left me unsure of what to feel.

She was very obedient, saving me a seat. Thinking this, I walked to a sofa behind her and gestured for a strong drink. A short while later, Mimi was already sitting on my lap. Her full, bouncy buttocks pressed against my half-erect penis through the thin fabric, her upper body leaning languidly against me.

Not far away, Junjun was already half-lying on the middle-aged man in the same position—she seemed to have completely abandoned her composure after seeing the woman beside me. Her silk scarf was nowhere to be seen, and because she had been sitting for a long time, her already short and elastic miniskirt could no longer cover the bottom of her white buttocks.

I watched as that strange man held my wife of three years in his arms, teasingly caressing her breasts through her clothes with one hand and rubbing her exposed thighs with the other. I felt a fire burning in my stomach, as if I was about to vomit blood, although I didn't know what vomiting blood actually felt like.

The man's hand reached higher and higher, suddenly disappearing completely into her black miniskirt. Junjun's body trembled, one hand seemingly instinctively trying to move down to stop him, but it froze in mid-air before awkwardly returning to its original position. Her chin was slightly raised, her lips parted, and her chest rose and fell noticeably.

I watched him caress my wife's most private parts with abandon, imagining his nimble fingers parting her thong, the rotation on her clitoris driving her wild. Under the influence of alcohol, anger, shame, and pleasure mingled in my mind, and I felt myself about to burst. My hand instinctively slipped under Mimi's vest and grabbed her left breast, eliciting a soft "oh" from her, the pain outweighing her surprise. The full, elastic shape gave me a fleeting pleasure, and I ignored Mimi's moans of dissatisfaction as I kneaded it forcefully.

Mimi's breasts were bigger than my wife's, and they felt wonderful to touch, but my mind was completely on my wife. I saw the man whisper something in Junjun's ear; she shook her head, but suddenly became anxious. The man smiled, said something else to her, and his hand began to move. This time, Junjun lifted her buttocks, seemingly to facilitate his actions.

I heard a soft laugh beside me, and she turned her head slightly to whisper, "Hehe, look! That woman's about to take off her panties!" We both watched as Junjun, in the most inconspicuous way, pulled a small black piece of fabric from under her skirt over her toes, squeezing it into a ball in her palm.

I tried to remain calm and

said, "That woman is so sexy! Do you know her?" Mimi said, "No, she's probably new."

I thought to myself, "It would be strange if she knew her, she's my wife!"

Seeing that I was staring intently at Junjun, Mimi, somewhat unwilling to give up, pinched my penis and exclaimed exaggeratedly, "Wow, look how intently she's watching!" I smiled and reached my other hand towards her inner thigh.

Then, one of the man's hands disappeared again under Junjun's skirt, while the other hand also disappeared mostly inside her tube-shaped blouse. What should have been the curves of her breasts was now only visible as a hand fumbling about.

Suddenly, something unexpected happened. Without warning, his hand yanked down my wife's blouse, completely exposing her left breast, and most of her right breast was also exposed. She tried to push him away and pull her clothes up. But in that brief moment, in the shadows where probably only a few of us could see, my wife's breasts were completely exposed, right in front of the hundreds of people in the dance hall.

I was stunned, even Mimi was dumbfounded. I saw my wife turn around and slap him across the face. The man paused for a moment, then laughed, ignoring her struggles, and pulled her back into his arms. Junjun struggled for a while, then stopped moving.

A short while later, Junjun seemed to get up to use the restroom, and I excused myself and followed her. We walked one after the other into a dark, deserted corner, and Junjun turned and threw herself into my arms, sobbing. I quickly asked what was wrong, and she said that the man had bullied her. I told her that no one saw, it was okay.

Seeing that I wasn't angry, she seemed relieved and asked if I missed her, then jealously asked about Mimi's situation. To help her relax, I embellished the story a bit. Sure enough, she was silent for a few seconds after hearing this, then lowered her head and said, as if mustering her courage, "Honey, he wants it."

I looked at her in surprise and asked, "To bed?" She hummed in agreement, "I said I wouldn't, but he said name your price, and I just casually said three thousand. I didn't expect him to agree."

My heart sank, and I didn't know what to say. Junjun spoke up, "I know you definitely won't agree... Let's go home."

I was a little doubtful and looked up to ask, "Then are you willing?"

Junjun lowered her head and said, "Haven't you always wanted to see it?"

I looked at her, knowing that the moment I had been waiting for had finally arrived. As long as I said yes, my wife would sell her pure body to a stranger, letting him vent and enjoy it at will. But... do I really want to do this? Is this kind of sexual fantasy something that should be realized? That would undoubtedly be incredibly exciting, I know, it would drive me crazy. But what if the excessive stimulation made me lose interest in normal sex forever? What would be the impact on our marriage if I sold my wife?

A wicked thought popped into my head: "Three thousand dollars, just one time, then clean up afterwards, wouldn't it be like nothing happened? A few times a month would be a great help to our lives..."

I was confused.

After a long pause, I looked at my wife and hesitated, saying, "Maybe... let's just forget about it today. So much has already happened, I don't know if I can take the final step right away."

As I spoke, I looked at Junjun's beautiful face, hoping to glean something from her expression. There must be something, I thought. I heard a soft exhale, as if she had breathed a sigh of relief, yet also seemed to feel a little empty and disappointed.

I dismissed Mimi with a few words, not forgetting to slip two large bills between her ample breasts. Mimi realized she wouldn't earn more by staying any longer, so she happily went off to her second business, sweetly telling me to visit her again next time. Things

weren't so easy with my wife; clearly, the man wasn't happy. No wonder, a wealthy man who can afford three thousand a time is probably always able to get people to do things his way.

They were discussing something, but Junjun kept shaking her head, her eyes lowered as if she dared not look at him. Finally, he gave up, angrily throwing a few bills at her. One bill even fell to the ground. Junjun stared at that bill for a full three seconds before bending down to pick it up.

When I saw her face again, she was still biting her lip, looking like she was about to cry. That innocent look reminded me of when she was the girl I was pursuing, dressed like a prostitute—I think that was the sexiest sight I had ever seen.

The two walked towards the door one after the other. I felt a huge weight lifted from my heart. Thinking about what I had just seen and what might have happened, I desperately wanted to vent. She worked hard tonight; I'll definitely make it up to her when we get back. A smile involuntarily crept onto my lips as I thought this.

Suddenly, Junjun, who was walking ahead, stopped as if someone had stopped her. In an instant, my brain made a decision that I'm quite impressed with myself for: I continued walking as if I hadn't seen anything. My eyes glanced around absentmindedly and saw that two young men had stopped her. One of them looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't remember where I'd seen him before.

I made sure I was out of their sight before going around to their side, trying to hear what they were saying amidst the loud music, but of course, it was futile. But when I saw Junjun's expression, it was the despair of someone caught red-handed doing something wrong. My heart sank; I realized what had happened—these two men must be acquaintances of my wife, and they had most likely witnessed what she had just done. Judging from their posture, they were definitely threatening and extorting my wife. My brain raced, but I couldn't think of a solution.

Just as I hesitated, the two young men, one on each side, "escorted" Junjun out the door, and I had no choice but to steel myself and follow behind at a distance. Fortunately, they didn't call a taxi; instead, they headed towards a hotel near YY. At that moment, an idea struck me, and I dialed Junjun's number. After a few rings, I heard her whimper, her voice trembling violently.

"Are those two people acquaintances of yours?"

"Yes."

"Where are you going now?"

"..."

I cursed myself for being an idiot; of course, she couldn't answer that question.

"Are they trying to blackmail you?"

"Yes."

"Do they want money or your life?"

"...In the second drawer."

If it weren't for this situation, I almost burst out laughing.

"I'll follow you. Pretend to hang up your phone so I can listen for any noise."

"Okay... um... goodbye."

With a keystroke and a rustling sound, I finally heard their conversation.

"Who is it?"

"My husband."

"Does your husband know you're out like this?"

"No...no."

"What are you doing?"

"I said I'm having a midnight snack."

"Haha, your husband is so easy to fool."

"Yeah, but his wife is about to become our midnight snack, haha!"

Two male voices burst into laughter, igniting a surge of anger in me.

By this time, the three of them had already reached the back of the hotel. After a few twists and turns, they arrived at a dark corner. On one side was a high, mottled wall, and on the other side were piles of wooden crates and miscellaneous items. Only from the corner where I was hiding could one see inside.

One of them said, "How's it going? Not bad, right?"

"You know your way around, haven't you? This isn't your first time here

, is it?" "Of course! I've slept with at least half a dozen women here!"

"Alright, alright, stop bragging. This... how do we do this?"

"Strip her down, I'll have my fun first."

As he spoke, the burly man grabbed Junjun from behind and pulled her into his arms, tearing off her top with one hand. Junjun let out a cry of pain, but her struggles seemed so powerless. Her exposed breasts were not very clear in the darkness, but they already struck me like a thunderbolt.

"Stop pretending to be virtuous, you were selling yourself just now!" the other man laughed and cursed, grabbing the breast that the fat man hadn't paid attention to.

"You know what, back when I saw her at work, she was like a princess, completely ignoring someone like me. Who would have thought she was two-faced, a princess by day and a whore by night?"

Now I finally remembered. This fat man was Junjun's former driver, who had given her a ride once. Junjun had never liked him, considering him vulgar and uncultured. Who could have imagined that years later, she would be helplessly violated by him in public? The two

young men continued their assault, stripping Junjun naked and sandwiching her like a sandwich, kissing and groping her wildly. Their four hands roughly kneaded and vented their desires on my wife's pure body. Her breasts and vulva were distorted and twisted under their clutches, causing her to writhe and try to escape, but there was nowhere to run.

In this moment, accompanied by my wife's short, hoarse humming coming from the phone, I felt like I was on a roller coaster, sliding from the top to the bottom. It was a strange feeling, a mix of despair, fear, excitement, and anticipation. I could hear my heart pounding against my chest with an intensity I had never felt before, so intense that I almost fainted.

A voice screamed anxiously in my head, "Let go, you bastards!"

Another, eyes red with rage, hissed, "Fuck her! Get her in! Fuck my wife!"

As if hearing my cries, the fat man pulled down his pants, revealing his weapon, bent his legs slightly, and forcefully thrust his penis into Junjun's fair, naked buttocks. Junjun cried out in terror, hurriedly saying, "No! You promised not to do this!" She frantically tried to push the fat man away with both hands.

But the two men were in high spirits, and they weren't about to let her go. The skinny man grabbed Junjun's arms, one in each hand, and pulled them back in front of her. Ignoring my wife's protests, the fat man grabbed her struggling buttocks with one hand and thrust his penis in with the other.

I knew that if I didn't step in now, my wife of three years would be raped in front of me. Although I'd been fantasizing about it, the woman I'd pursued relentlessly for a year, the woman who'd shared all my joys and sorrows, my love and hate, was about to be violated by these two despicable bastards. I couldn't help but want to jump out and shout to stop them, but… if I stepped in now, wouldn't that be telling them I'd been watching from the dance hall all this time? Besides, they had a firm grip on Junjun's secrets. If I didn't give in to them now, and they told all our acquaintances, we'd both be too ashamed to show our faces in this city.

No sooner said than done, while I was still struggling with my thoughts, a woman's scream came from my phone. Junjun was gripping the skinny man's arm tightly, her face contorted in agony, clearly having been penetrated by the fat man and not properly lubricated. Her fingernails were probably digging into the skinny man's arm, causing him to cry out in pain as well.

My heart clenched violently, as if a giant hand had grabbed it and was violently pulling it away from me. My wife had finally been fucked, just as I had fantasized about a thousand times, only this time it was unbelievably real. My head felt incredibly heavy, as if a green hat was pressing down on it, making it impossible for me to lift my head.

I strained to raise my neck, trying to regain some of my masculine dignity, but all I saw was the fat man thrusting vigorously behind my wife, and her naked body trembling as he pounded into her. Her once flowing hair was grabbed by the fat man, and she could only tilt her head back, panting with her mouth open. The increasingly faint sounds of pain in her moans made me feel a little better.

The fat man's face was tense, clearly experiencing extreme pleasure—I was all too familiar with the feeling of having sex with her from behind, even the satisfaction of grabbing her hair, because I often tormented my wife like that; that feeling of humiliation made her exceptionally wild. I never imagined she would be so thoroughly violated today. Although I wasn't the one violently penetrating my wife's plump, tender vagina from behind, I could clearly feel a different kind of stimulation. This feeling pierced my body and soul like a sharp sword, concealing the sexual frenzy under a haze of pain. Undeniably, I loved that feeling.

I watched helplessly as that despicable, ugly man frantically enjoyed my wife, while my own genitals swelled to their limit with the surging pleasure within me. This sexual pleasure reminded me of the conquest I felt the first time I penetrated my wife, the release I felt the first time I urinated on her face, and it was clearly more unforgettable. This vortex of pleasure made me dizzy, countless thoughts swirling in my mind. One moment I wondered if Junjun was experiencing pleasure, the next I wondered if my lewd fetish was a manifestation of masochistic tendencies in my subconscious. The

skinny man, who had already taken off his pants, was getting impatient. His penis seemed thicker and longer than the fat man's, constantly thrusting towards Junjun's body, but she was being penetrated from behind, her buttocks raised high, so he could only press against her navel. He would sometimes bend down to suckle her nipples, her breasts jiggling with the fat man's thrusts, often flattening the skinny man's nose, but he didn't seem to care.

Although the fat man couldn't see clearly, he roughly understood the situation and couldn't help but speak up: "Hey, why don't you let her bend down and blow on you? I'll switch with you later."

I cursed inwardly, but the skinny man was reminded by my words. He grabbed Junjun's hair and pressed her down, forcing her to bend over. She pushed the skinny man away with one hand, looking at the ugly penis dangling in front of her with disgust, seemingly very unwilling.

The skinny man was a little impatient. He grabbed his penis and shoved it into my wife's mouth. She flinched a few times, but her sexy red lips finally gave way. The long, thick penis rudely pierced her throat, causing her to wince in pain. Her hands reflexively tried to push the skinny man away. The skinny man held her head tightly, preventing her from escaping, and thrust and twisted violently inside her. My wife could no longer scream, only make gurgling sounds like she was drowning, saliva uncontrollably dribbling from the corners of her mouth.

This was probably the most painful oral sex she had ever experienced, I thought with heartache. Even in my most frenzied and sadistic moments, I had never penetrated her throat like this. A pang of jealousy shot through me; I secretly wondered when I could have her do this for me.

Finally, the skinny man slightly withdrew his penis and began thrusting in and out of my wife's mouths, one after the other, along with the fat man. Although they were quite in sync, the skinny man's penis still frequently slipped out of her mouth, each time he quickly and forcefully thrust it back into her throat. Over time, perhaps to avoid his rough actions, Junjun would actually take the initiative to grab it and put it back in her mouth, and the movements of her mouth gradually became more varied from the initial monotonous and passive ones.

The fat man behind her clearly felt the wetness of her vagina and laughed, "Hey! It's wet, it's wet!"

I felt a pang of sadness and could only comfort myself that it was a normal physiological reaction for women, a natural mechanism of self-protection. Junjun, perhaps feeling ashamed after being told that, or perhaps thinking of me watching, symbolically twisted and turned a few times to escape, only to be met with even more roughness and ridicule from the two men.

Not long after, the skinny guy spoke up: "Hey, I said, let's switch. I want to try this slut's pussy."

The fat guy reluctantly grunted in agreement, thrusting hard a few times before pulling his penis out abruptly. I heard my wife cry out, not with the joy of relief, but rather with a hint of emptiness and loss.

When they switched positions, Junjun remained in the bent-over, buttocks-up position, completely resigned to her fate. The skinny guy, who had been waiting for his turn, immediately thrust in, letting out a satisfied sigh.

The fat man vented all his dissatisfaction on my wife, gripping his penis, which was covered in her juices, and said fiercely, "Mr. XX, this is all your juices! Lick it clean!"

My wife gave him a resentful look and obediently began licking from the base of his penis, even actively sucking his testicles without being asked. Although I couldn't see the fat man's expression, I could imagine the surprise and pleasure in his mind, so much so that he didn't even utter a mocking word.

The skinny man wasn't bad either; his tools were superior to the fat man's, and since his belly wasn't in the way, he could penetrate deeper than the fat man. My sensitive wife clearly sensed the difference, and her mental defenses were gradually shattered. What started as restrained moans turned into unrestrained cries of pleasure. I could even hear the squelching sounds of her fluids as she moved on the phone.

She was aroused! How could this be? My wife, though a slut in our bed, was usually quite respectable. In front of others, she was an absolutely virtuous woman, yet now, under the circumstances of being raped, she experienced intense sexual pleasure and shamelessly displayed it in front of these wicked men!

I watched all this with fury, feeling an urgent need to release, and unconsciously pulled out my long-suppressed penis and began masturbating. Watching two strangers rape—no, sexually assault—while he masturbated alongside their wives, I experienced an indescribable, wicked, and intense pleasure amidst a profound sense of guilt. It felt like I was simultaneously at the depths of despair and the pinnacle of life.

I'd heard that fat men weren't very good at this, and this one was no exception. His face was already tense, and he was clearly holding back when he finally reached his limit. But who could laugh at him? I think he'd never played with such a beautiful woman so cruelly in his life.

He quickened his pace, his large belly repeatedly bumping against Junjun's face. Suddenly, he let out a low growl, his body pausing for several seconds, as if unable to move an inch at the moment of ultimate climax. Junjun's brows furrowed; it seemed the fat man had released quite a bit. His calves trembled slightly and moved slowly a few times, as if all his strength had left him, and he could no longer support his bloated body. He collapsed to the ground, panting heavily, seemingly oblivious to my wife's action of spitting the sticky mixture onto the ground.

At this moment, Junjun broke free from the fat man's grasp and was completely focused on being fucked by the skinny man. She supported herself against the wall with one hand and propped up her straight, beautiful legs with the other. Her long, flowing hair, which had been treated with negative ions, was now a mess, dancing wildly with his thrusts and rolls, just like the lewd moans coming from her throat.

The skinny man, sweating profusely, cursed, "Is it good, you slut! How do I compare to your husband?"

My wife ignored him, offering no response, but I wondered what her answer might be. The thought that she might genuinely think that man was better than me filled me with an unusual excitement. I knew I was about to climax, but I really wanted to join them. Thankfully, they didn't keep me waiting too long.

The skinny man gradually increased the frequency and intensity of his thrusts, and my wife cheered him on even more enthusiastically. Soon, the naked couple's actions reached a dizzying level, and he suddenly shouted, "I'm going to cum inside!"

That shout finally pushed me to my limit; a chill ran down my spine, and my semen shot out a meter away.

As his wife's cries grew louder, he finally ejaculated. His thrusts continued relentlessly, powerful and relentless, pounding her to the very peak of ecstasy. Watching each impact, rhythmically accompanying my own ejaculation, I felt all the pent-up anger and stimulation find release.

What a sight! My distant sense of morality wailed. This bizarre trio, simultaneously floating on the clouds of wicked climax, each man and woman harboring such dark thoughts and pleasures.

They finally left, abandoning her—the woman who had just given them such pleasure—like a broken toy, taking only her underwear as a "souvenir," and some leverage, I thought to myself.

She stood there, dazed, not even dressed. The soft moonlight, which had just been hiding its face in embarrassment, peeked out from behind the clouds and shone on her exquisite body, gently caressing her bruised and battered skin. I was suddenly overcome with jealousy; my beautiful wife, my pride, was no longer mine alone.

I stepped forward to face her, but didn't go to her side. She looked at me with tears in her eyes, motionless. I gazed at her; she had never looked so beautiful, I thought, yet I had never felt so distant from her. I felt a bitter pang in my heart, utterly exhausted. She searched for understanding and love in my eyes, but found nothing. Two tears rolled down her cheeks almost simultaneously, falling onto her full breasts, lingering on her nipples, ready to fall.

Her tear-blurred gaze filled me with both anger and pity. What should I do? What could I possibly do? I asked myself. The deep darkness enveloped us; not a single light could be seen.

That evening, I felt I should comfort Junjun. I placed her soft, white legs on my shoulders and kissed her vulva. It was astringent there, with some redness and swelling around it, like a flower after the rain. Wounded and bruised from being shaken, Junjun frowned slightly and moaned softly. I squeezed harder, and a stream of white fluid was squeezed out, flowing into my mouth…

I looked at Junjun, my heart filled with pity, and secretly vowed that Junjun's situation today was also my fault. If I hadn't enjoyed Junjun being played with by others, it wouldn't have become real. Even if Junjun really made a mistake, as long as she was with me, I would always be good to her.

The next day, Junjun lay in bed, saying she was in pain. I looked closely and saw that poor Junjun's vagina was swollen.

Junjun and I were walking down the street when someone called her name from behind. Junjun's face flushed red. I turned around and saw it was Fatty. He handed me some candy, saying, "I was a groom yesterday. The bride is just as beautiful as Junjun. Here, have some wedding candy."

More than two months passed, and nothing happened. No one at Junjun's workplace knew about that night, and we relaxed.

But I noticed that when she wasn't doing anything, Junjun would often sit quietly, lost in thought, her face flushing. When Junjun and I made love, we rarely mentioned our shared sexual fantasies, and Junjun didn't reach orgasm anymore.

One day, Junjun told me she saw Fatty. He greeted her warmly and didn't mention what happened that night. Perhaps because of this, she felt Fatty wasn't as annoying as she used to think. She also told me that both Fatty and Skinny had lovers at work, and both were very beautiful.

That night, Junjun showed unusual excitement and asked to continue her sexual fantasies, which I agreed to. Unexpectedly, Junjun's fantasies focused on Skinny and Fatty. She passionately called out their names and made love to me intensely; we both had several orgasms.

Afterwards, I asked Junjun, "Do you really want them to fuck you again?" To my surprise, my wife blushed and nodded shyly, saying, "Their dicks...are really...bigger than yours." Only then did I realize that my wife had developed a taste for them and was thinking about them every day.

My fear had subsided, but my cuckoldry complex had intensified. My heart skipped a beat, and I said to Junjun, "The thought of my wife being a prostitute excites me. I love it when other men touch my Junjun's body and ride her."

Junjun initially disagreed, but then jokingly said, "I've just learned to be good, and you're making me go bad again. Don't be angry if I really do go bad this time." I smiled and said, "Don't you already have a record?" "Then

I'll continue to be a slutty woman for you. But if I'm played by other men again, I'll have to be nice to them, seduce them, even become their mistress, call them 'husband.' Can you handle that?"

"Go ahead and have fun, I won't blame you, because I chose this myself. Besides, I'll personally officiate your wedding before you go to the bridal chamber." After

I finished speaking, Junjun suddenly blushed, gave me a quick kiss, and said playfully, "In a few days, I'll definitely give you a gift—the most beautiful green hat, so you can be a little turtle forever." But Junjun didn't go to the dance hall again; she said she wanted to wait for me to take her to the bridal chamber once more.

A few days later, Junjun told me in a very lewd tone that she saw the skinny guy again, and he even waved to her. She didn't know why, but she gave him my home address and blew him a kiss.

Several thoughts flashed through my mind in an instant, but recalling the scene from that day, I couldn't help but get an erection. I think that although she was raped that time, they were still the second men to enter my wife's body, leaving her with an indelible memory.

But Junjun has always looked down on them, could it be...?

I said to Junjun, "Have you fallen for them?" Junjun blushed, lowered her head, fidgeted with her fingers, and hesitated to speak to me.

I guessed that Junjun was conflicted, because she couldn't very well ask to have an affair in front of her husband! Although she was seeking sexual stimulation and pleasure, taking that step was not easy, especially since she had stumbled badly the first time. But the thrill of having an affair was deeply tempting to her. Even so, I didn't believe that Junjun would really like them.

That evening, Junjun took a shower and put on some perfume. Strangely, she wouldn't let me touch her.

The next day, Junjun wore the clothes she had worn when she went out to sell things that day, but she wasn't wearing underwear (they had taken her underwear from that day), revealing her snow-white shoulders and the barely visible curves of her breasts. She then helped me up, lifted her leg, and quickly applied nail polish to her ten toes. I was puzzled as I watched her draw her eyebrows and apply lipstick.

After breakfast, a car horn suddenly sounded downstairs. Junjun glanced out the window, her voice trembling slightly, and her face flushed as she said to me, "That fatso is here, what do we do?" Only then did I understand the reason for Junjun's actions. Suddenly, the phrase "blushing cheeks, rapid breathing, hot breath, eyes filled with longing, anticipating sharing the joys of love with you" came to mind. I figured my wife must be completely flustered right now! It's not like she hasn't been with them before.

The wicked thought finally triumphed over reason. I told Junjun I was going out to hide for half a day, and that she could do whatever she wanted. Junjun blushed and turned to go into the bedroom. What was Junjun doing in there? I found it strange.

After a while, I pushed open the door and went in. I saw she had already made the bed; the three pillows were neatly arranged side by side, the comforter was folded neatly, and there were two condoms and a wad of toilet paper on the bedside table. Junjun saw that I had seen her, and she became even more shy.

I thought to myself, "Jun Jun is really going astray." But it was too late to regret it.

She waved to me and walked towards the door. Her bare legs were visible through her half-open skirt, revealing her shapely buttocks, slender waist, full breasts, and long neck. I knew that moment was approaching, and I felt an overwhelming urge. I quickly left the house through the back door. Everything was locked away in another world behind that closed door.

At noon, I returned home and found the two young men having lunch with Jun Jun. Junjun wore a cropped blouse, revealing her two pointed nipples, the alluring tips of which were faintly visible. Beneath her mini-skirt, her fair, glossy calves and smooth, tender thighs were exposed. White high-heeled sandals with delicate straps outlined her perfect, snow-white feet. Her smooth ankles and glistening toes were exquisite, her toes neat and slender, the curves of her feet beautiful. Her pert breasts and watery eyes were flushed. Her lipstick was gone; I couldn't tell if it was from eating or…

Upon seeing me, the two greeted me warmly. Junjun introduced the fat man and the thin man as her friends, saying they had just arrived. I knew it was an excuse. The fat man, with a smile in his eyes, handed me a few pieces of candy, saying they were married.

After a while, they made an excuse to get up and leave. After they left, Junjun lowered her head shyly, too embarrassed to look at me, with the expression of a child who had stolen candy—so adorable! Suddenly, she kissed me, and there was a metallic taste in her mouth; I guessed it was the taste of semen.

I asked Junjun, and she shyly told me, "Let me tell you a secret, I let them pee in my mouth, and they didn't make me spit it out, I ate it all." Then she playfully said to me, "Honey, I did everything you wanted, aren't you going to reward me? Don't you like other men touching my body and riding me? They took turns riding me, saying I was their girl. I let them fuck me all morning, and they even ejaculated inside me. Look..." As she spoke, Junjun took off her pants.

I found that my wife's vagina was stuffed with a wad of toilet paper. After removing the toilet paper, a sticky, slightly yellowish-white liquid flowed down her thighs. "Do you like it?" My wife's loose black hair was casually tied behind her back, and her captivating almond-shaped eyes radiated a watery, spring-like allure. "Yes!" I answered vaguely, taking a deep breath, feeling utterly confused.

That evening, Junjun asked me to help her bathe. I gently wiped Junjun's smooth back, touching her slender waist, feeling a pang of unease. Her slender waist reminded me of how such a figure had been thrusting and groveling in the arms of those two thugs, and seeing her petite buttocks reminded me of how she had once sat naked in the laps of those two hooligans, her hips gripping their wet penises in a piston-like motion. Now, Junjun's "Peach Blossom Cave" has been filled with paste by them for the second time, and she's even ingested their semen—something even my girlfriend has never tasted. They'll definitely ride her again in the future; what can I do?

I asked Junjun, "Do you now like the people you used to look down on?" Junjun told me that after interacting with these kinds of people, she's gotten used to their vulgar language, especially when they call her "slut" and "bitch"—it sounds exciting. Although she thinks they're hooligans, she also finds them very manly, so now she's willingly being their little mare, letting them ride her, play with her, and sleep with her.

The fat guy and the skinny guy have also become familiar with me; we often go out together, and they even introduce me to women. They told me that the respectable young women they'd had their fill of all had husbands, guaranteed they weren't infected with any diseases, and they could have sex with them without condoms.

We seemed to become friends. One night, we got a room and drank quite a bit. The fat guy hugged Junjun and asked me to take pictures of them. Junjun giggled and struggled, which only fueled his lust. I clearly saw a large bulge in the fat guy's pants, and Junjun's hand was on it. Seeing that I wasn't angry, the fat guy's hand went inside Junjun's clothes and touched her breasts. Junjun blushed and slapped his hand away.

I sat there grinning foolishly, not knowing what to say, but I didn't stop them. Seeing that I wasn't angry, the fat guy and the skinny guy went further and started undressing Junjun. Junjun, half-naked, joked with them. That night I drank quite a bit and eventually fell into a daze.

The next day, I opened my eyes despite my headache and found that Fatty was gone, and Junjun was sleeping soundly, naked, in Skinny's arms, her hand still holding Skinny's penis.

Skinny apologized to me; I guessed they had planned it. It was already a fact, and besides, I was partly responsible. I had slept with their women, so wasn't it normal for them to sleep with my wife? I said to Skinny, "Make my wife feel better."

That day, Skinny pressed himself against the naked Junjun in front of me, and I watched with my own eyes as his ugly thing entered Junjun's body. Junjun hugged Skinny, excitedly shouting, "Husband, fuck me!" Her buttocks twisted violently, cooperating with Skinny's rape.

After Junjun and the skinny guy finished playing, she took a green thing out of her bag. I then realized it was a hat, and the skinny guy carefully put it on my head.

From then on, Junjun became more open. She interacted boldly with both the fat guy and the skinny guy, but Junjun seemed to be closer to the skinny guy. In front of outsiders, the skinny guy called Junjun his mistress; Junjun smiled charmingly, linked her arm with his, and called him "husband," but introduced me as their friend. The fat guy's position was basically gone; Junjun wouldn't let him touch her anymore. I even wanted Junjun to go to the dance hall to dress up as a prostitute, but Junjun refused to go.

Through several "unintentional" inspirations and confessions from the skinny guy, Junjun gradually fell into his tender trap. The skinny guy was no longer a "despicable" villain, but a lover who loved and cared for her. She revolved around the skinny guy in everything, obediently maintaining his authority. She often unconsciously used some intimate and cheesy little tricks between lovers or spouses on the skinny guy, while I gradually became unimportant.

Physiologically, day and night, in dangerous places like open spaces, they used novel and stimulating positions, sometimes gentle and sweet, sometimes fierce and wild, to engage in thrusting. Accompanied by sweet words from a lover or the domineering and brutal nature of a strong man, the skinny man completely aroused the physical and lewd desires of this young woman with intense lust. During sex, she displayed not only shyness and flirtation, but also passion and infatuation. As

the days passed, under the skinny man's deliberate cultivation, Junjun became more and more beautiful, like a girl in love, living each day in passionate, sweet, and warm care. The whole family gradually accepted this outsider, or rather, the whole family gradually became this outsider's world, revealing the harmony and sweetness of the family.

Junjun was noticeably distant from me. When I wanted to have sex with her, she said she was now Skinny's exclusive woman and had to ask her master for permission. Skinny graciously allowed Junjun to sleep with me. Junjun was probably already used to Skinny's big penis, and my sexual ability was far from satisfying her. When we made love, I couldn't ignite that spark of excitement.

When Junjun wasn't home, I asked Skinny if he loved Junjun. The skinny man smiled contemptuously and asked me, "Don't you like your wife being played with by other men? She's just one of my concubines now. Once I'm done with her, I'll find a few more men to play with her, train her into a wanton slut, a whore who gets wet at the sight of a man's penis, a completely wanton and depraved hussy, and then I'll give her back to you."

I told Junjun what the skinny man said, but Junjun didn't believe him at all. On the contrary, she seemed to like the skinny man more and more. When he wasn't coming, Junjun eagerly awaited their arrival, and even washed his dirty clothes, underwear, and smelly socks. Conversely, she became increasingly cold towards me, unwilling to let me touch her. When I wanted to have sex with her, she asked me, "I don't love you anymore, do you feel anything?" -- At that moment, I only felt regret!

The driver's working hours were irregular; the skinny guy often came at night. Sometimes he was so tired he lay in bed, and Junjun would help him take off his socks and wash his feet, being more attentive than a wife. After spending more time with him, I discovered that the skinny guy had a bad temper.

Once, the skinny guy asked Junjun to suck his penis, and Junjun said, "It smells too bad, you should wash yourself first!" This angered the skinny guy, and he slapped her. Junjun cried pitifully, knelt on the floor, and, with tears in her eyes, took the skinny guy's penis into her mouth. I was furious in the next room, but there was nothing I could do, because Junjun eventually went to the skinny guy's bed and fell into his arms again.

In the morning, Junjun gently dressed the skinny guy, and finally kissed him on the lips, watching him leave the room like a young wife seeing her husband off. I asked Junjun, "What do you consider your relationship with Skinny?" She replied quite naturally, "A concubine." I couldn't understand what Junjun liked about him. Was the humiliation he inflicted on her what he called masculinity?

Whenever he had a holiday, Skinny would pick her up. Junjun treated Skinny's wife with great respect, calling her "sister," clearly indicating her status as a concubine.

A year passed in the blink of an eye. Junjun and Skinny had slept together far more often than I had. Junjun became pregnant, and Skinny persuaded her to have an abortion. I was secretly pleased because I knew it wasn't my child.

Skinny came less and less often. I knew Junjun was getting tired of him. Since Skinny had had his fill of Junjun, he would generously offer her up to other men, because Junjun was just one of his women. Junjun, however, had become noticeably thinner.

The skinny guy finally arrived, bringing another man with him. Although he was very strong, he was rustic, like a farmer, and I could tell Junjun disliked him. The skinny guy said he was his loader.

Junjun was particularly excited that day, snuggling close to the skinny guy and talking in a sultry voice, but the skinny guy just patted her face, told her to keep his friend company, and then told me to leave with him. In the skinny guy's car, he told me that he had had enough of Junjun, but this girl was no longer suitable to be my wife. Before returning her to me, he planned to find Junjun several different kinds of men so that she could accept all kinds of men, and then train her to return to her old profession—a prostitute—to earn money for me for a few years.

The next morning, I returned home and opened the door to find the farmer pulling his limp penis (though soft, it was still larger than average) out of Junjun's vagina. Thick, white semen was flowing from her vagina; her face and body were flushed, and her eyes were misty, as if brimming with autumn water. I knew the old farmer's sexual prowess was stronger than ours, and Junjun had already been satisfied.

Sure enough, the skinny man brought men to patronize Junjun every few days, and of course, the money all went into his pocket. As she came into contact with more men, the skinny man faded from Junjun's heart. When she had sex with him, she no longer felt the same excitement as before, and I certainly couldn't either. Junjun no longer says she's a skinny man's woman. I guess her vagina has adapted to penises bigger than ours.

During this time, I not only lost money on my wife but also didn't earn any money. However, I made Junjun realize that men only use her and that there is no love outside of family. Although the affair ended, her bad lifestyle became well-known. My colleagues started talking about her behind my back, and the gossip would suddenly stop when I appeared. I knew that Junjun and the skinny man's affair couldn't be hidden, but they all pretended not to know.

Even in ordinary times, she wasn't as dignified as before. Now she likes to wear short skirts, low-cut tops, and thin shirts, and often doesn't wear a bra, letting her breasts sway as she walks. During our walks together, Junjun's eyes would always involuntarily dart towards the men around us. When she encountered a muscular man, she would often grip my hand tightly, her face flushing. When I wasn't around, she would often flirt with some shady men. I knew that the skinny man's training was successful; he had successfully tamed Junjun into a slut, a wanton woman. Junjun now preferred the rogue type of man.

The skinny man hadn't brought any men for a while, and Junjun seemed to have lost something. Finally, one day, Junjun told me that she had become addicted to having sex with different men, and she was preparing to actually become a prostitute.

This time, Junjun and I went to a dance hall. I arrived a little late and couldn't find Junjun. Because I needed to urinate, I went to the restroom. Suddenly, I clearly heard rhythmic moans from inside, and I could even hear the sound of a penis rapidly thrusting in and out of her vagina. The voice sounded familiar, and I could hardly believe my ears; my heart pounded.

A moment later, sure enough, a man emerged, his arm around Junjun, who was disheveled and had a dazed look in her eyes. The man suddenly saw me and excitedly called out to me. To my embarrassment, this man was my elementary school classmate. We hadn't seen each other for a long time; he didn't even know Junjun and I were married. Of course, he couldn't possibly imagine that the woman he was with today was my wife.

He led Junjun up to me, his hand still kneading her full buttocks, and introduced her to me as a new girl he'd met. He even said that of all the women he'd slept with, none were as beautiful as her.

After chatting for a few minutes, he invited me to his house. My wife nestled in his arms, suddenly kissed him, and asked, "Should I come to your house again tonight?" Then, she looked at me with a half-smile.

I looked at my beloved wife; her face was flushed as if she were drunk, her eyes watery and full of spring-like desire, yet she showed no nervousness or fear. I didn't dare tell my classmate that Junjun was my wife, and could only tell him, "I won't disturb your wedding night." Then, feeling a pang of jealousy, I watched helplessly as my wife was led out of the dance hall by my classmate.

That night, I barely slept, my mind filled with the image of my beloved wife sleeping naked in someone's arms.

The next morning, Junjun finally dragged her tired body back to my side.

"Baby, he didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Silly, how could he hurt you! It's fine. I'm exhausted, I don't want to shower anymore, I want to sleep for a while before showering. His penis is thicker than yours, it stretched my pussy tight, I had five or six orgasms, and he made me wet a lot."

"Didn't you wear a condom?"

"Wearing a condom is such a waste."

I lay down between her legs, of course looking at her vulva that had just been penetrated by a man's penis. Junjun's full labia majora were a little red from the impact of the man's pubic area; her labia minora protruded slightly, covering the entrance to her vagina. As her thighs moved, her little hole filled with semen was vaguely revealed, but it was quickly covered by her closed labia again. That night, my brain was finally saturated by that sour and lewd smell.

At dawn, I examined the lewd marks on Junjun's crotch while masturbating again.

Later, my classmate finally found out he was sleeping with my wife. He told me he'd ridden many women, but my wife was the easiest.

Junjun quit her job and went to work at a Thai massage parlor. She truly fell, becoming a prostitute in name only. When I visited her, she was often lying lazily in other men's arms, as if I didn't exist.

I didn't stop Junjun's promiscuity, and Junjun remained sincere with me, considering me her best friend and often sharing her affairs with me. Sometimes she would bring me recordings of her having sex with other men. Listening to the sounds of their genitals colliding and my wife's wanton moans, imagining Junjun's legs on another man's shoulders, being penetrated at a 90-degree angle by a huge, hard penis, thrusting all the way in, would make me ejaculate. During the day, I regretted everything I did, but at night, enduring the loneliness, imagining my beautiful wife possibly being pinned down and moaning softly, I was still quite excited.

A year later, I knew more than twenty men who had slept with Junjun. Junjun earned a lot of money, and our financial situation was very good. Although Junjun was still beautiful, she was also called the "men's toilet" (meaning: every man had to finish before leaving, and sometimes they had to go together). Although Junjun was a womanizer, she hated that nickname.

We didn't want to stay here anymore, so we left Shanghai and went to a city where no one knew us. We found very respectable jobs and started a new life. Junjun was very dignified and didn't associate with any disreputable men. She quickly got promoted and became the head of her department.

Of course, I couldn't take off the cuckold's hood anymore. I could no longer satisfy Junjun. Sometimes when she wanted to, I would accompany her to dance halls and watch her being played with by the men she liked. After all, no one there knew about her past. Junjun still liked playing love games with men. In the new city, it took Junjun a long time to be conquered by a man. I knew Junjun's vagina needed a big penis, but such men were really rare. We finally found someone, so Junjun and I rented another small room to make him think we were on par with him.

But the man was just an ordinary worker, with nothing remarkable about him except for his strong physique and penis. He also had a terrible temper, and Junjun was often verbally abused and even beaten by him. However, she didn't reveal her true identity and continued to be his submissive, just like she had been with the skinny guy, willingly letting him play with her. He didn't know that his beautiful and seductive girlfriend's true identity was far more noble than his. But apart from being fucked by him to satisfy her lust, Junjun no longer loved him, and of course, she stopped working as a prostitute.

From then on, besides me, Junjun only had him as a man, and we lived quietly like most people. No one in Junjun's workplace would suspect that this dignified and beautiful boss had been ridden by many men, a wanton slut beneath them.

The feeling of flesh writhing beneath me was so wonderful. I passionately kissed Junjun's moist red lips, kneading her tender breasts. Listening to her alluring moans, my mind habitually imagined myself as the man who drooled over her but had no chance.

I don't know when it started, but this fantasy had become the best stimulation for me and my wife during sex. I fantasized that one of those men would finally succeed, get my wife into bed, and half-coax, half-force her to take her virginity amidst her desperate pleas. He fantasizes about pinning his trembling wife down, ignoring her feeble protests, his enormous penis thrusting into her pure vagina, wantonly venting on her body, ejaculating into her uterus again and again… At this moment, his wife will also close her eyes tightly, imagining being violated by that man, calling out his name in a wanton and seductive voice, begging for his conquest.

My wife's clients and bosses are often the objects of our fantasies, as are my friends, doctors at the hospital, and so on. But today my imagination is richer than usual. I want her to wear the sexy short skirt I bought for her, go to a bar to work as a hostess, let strange, lewd men fondle her body, lick her neck, and finally stuff a dirty two hundred yuan between her breasts.

Thinking of this, I became extremely excited. My lips left her earlobe, and I whispered in her ear as if in a dream, "Wife, how about I take you out to sell yourself?"

My wife, aroused by my caresses, chuckled, "Are you willing to do that?"

"That's precisely why it's exciting! Not selling my body, just letting them take advantage of me..."

"Do you want to see me being touched?"

"Yes, watching you have your breasts and butt touched by strangers, letting them touch your whole body for two hundred dollars."

"Oh... what if he wants to do it?"

"Then name a high price... three thousand dollars."

"What if he's willing to pay?"

"Then let him do it."

"You're bad! Letting someone do your wife for three thousand dollars!"

"That's quite a lot of money... besides, I want to see it..."

"He definitely won't let you see it."

"Then I'll listen at the door. Don't you have a lot of rich clients who want to sleep with you? Are they willing to pay three thousand?"

"Definitely... Okay, honey, you stand at the door and collect the money, let them line up and come in one by one to fuck me, treat me like a bitch and vent their frustrations on me!"

"You filthy bitch!" I felt so good listening to that, and I slapped her across the face.

"Oh! Hit me! Treat me like a bitch and fuck me!" Junjun's beautiful face flushed red from the slap, but it only made her more excited.

I didn't hold back as I fucked her and hit her, and I insulted her from time to time, even spitting on her face, which made her scream louder. Women really are animals with a masochistic fetish, and luckily I also like this feeling, especially the thrill of conquest. That night, like any other, I made love to her for about an hour, finally releasing my pent-up emotions by yelling in her ear.

Fantasizing is one thing, but actually doing it is another. Perhaps every man with a cuckold complex has this dilemma! Imagining his wife in another man's arms is so exciting, but if it actually happened, seeing his beloved wife being played with, would the pleasure really outweigh the jealousy? I don't know. With this apprehensive feeling, my wife and I started making plans.

Her biggest concern wasn't being played with by another man, but rather being seen by acquaintances. Women are so fickle and self-deceiving. She suggested going to another city to have some fun, but I was afraid of being in an unfamiliar place, especially a place like a dance hall—a mixed bag of people, with no guarantee of safety. So in the end, the two decided to stay in Shanghai and go to a dance hall called YY. It had been popular for a while, but Shanghainese are always fickle, and now very few of my friends go there anymore. I knew the going rate; two or three hundred yuan was enough to sit and touch as much as you wanted. The plan was set, and all that was left was to wait for the right opportunity.

All of Saturday, Junjun was a bit absent-minded, as if thinking about what was going to happen that night, both embarrassed and excited. I saw this and felt excited too, like a child going on a school field trip.

After dinner, my wife went inside to change as planned. I wanted to follow her in to see what she was wearing, but she laughed and pushed me out. After waiting and waiting, the door finally opened halfway, revealing half of my wife's body and a flushed face.

Her meticulously groomed face was captivating, her eyes sparkling, her lips slightly parted. She wore a strapless, midriff-baring tube top, over which a sheer scarf draped, revealing glimpses of her partially exposed breasts. Below, she wore a tight-fitting, low-cut mini-skirt with a slit at the side, exposing her thighs to a height normally unseen by others. Her smooth, long legs were bare of stockings, adorned with black strappy four-inch stilettos that revealed her shapely toes. Even I, who knew every part of her body intimately, couldn't help but exclaim in admiration, my lower body stirring with desire.

My wife asked a little nervously, "Isn't it too revealing?"

I knew tonight's game wasn't just for me; it was also a rare opportunity for her to turn her sexual fantasies into reality. Her outfit was entirely based on her fantasies, but out of female modesty and insecurity, she needed a man's affirmation and support. I repeatedly said she looked beautiful and sexy, and since she was going to play the part of a prostitute, she should dress like one.

With my constant encouragement, Junjun finally made up her mind, but she insisted on waiting until dark to go out like this. Fine, I didn't want to be too conspicuous on the street either.

It was summer, and by the time it was completely dark, it was past nine o'clock. Unable to resist my increasingly restless urging, my wife finally bravely stepped out of the room. Just as she stepped out, she ran into Uncle Chen from upstairs returning home.

Mr. Chen, in his early fifties, had been widowed for many years and had an unmarried son. His biggest hobby was playing mahjong, and today it looked like another fierce battle was about to begin. He was wearing a ripped t-shirt and shorts, and was panting as he climbed to the third floor, fanning himself with a palm leaf fan. When he looked up, he saw Junjun's two beautiful legs swaying gracefully as she walked down the stairs. Looking up from below, he could vaguely see a patch of black under her super short skirt, but he couldn't tell if it was black underwear or nothing at all. Under her silk scarf, most of her breasts were exposed, and a clear cleavage was visible in the middle.

Mr. Chen, who had never seen my wife so exposed before, was stunned, his mouth agape. Junjun's face flushed red, and she quickly said goodbye before pulling me along the road. As we rounded the corner, I glanced back and thought I caught a glimpse of Mr. Chen's face.

Once in the taxi, my wife hugged me tightly and whispered in my ear, "I was so embarrassed! What are we going to do?"

I knew she was referring to Mr. Chen seeing us. Although I was a little nervous, the thought of Mr. Chen's expression excited me, so I replied softly, "What's the big deal? I think it's hilarious. Look at Mr. Chen's expression, he looks like he's drooling! He has nowhere to release his pent-up desire, he's definitely going to be masturbating like crazy tonight." Junjun laughed at my comment and stopped thinking about it.

As we approached YY, I asked the driver to drop me off first, as I didn't want anyone to see us going in together, and I planned to stroll in slowly.

The summer night air was filled with unease and restlessness. The women walking in my direction were all scantily clad, which stirred my emotions.

Entering YY's lobby, the deafening music from upstairs was already faintly audible. It seemed I was walking towards the second floor under the watchful eyes of numerous staff members, though I thought it was just my guilty conscience making me feel uneasy. Even before entering the dance hall, the constant flow of people at the entrance told you the nature of this place. All sorts of men and women were dressed in bizarre and outlandish ways; some were checking their bags, some were waiting for others, and there were always some wandering around, glancing around aimlessly, their identities unclear.

As soon as I entered, loud music vibrated beneath my feet, and the lights from the dance floor to my left filled every corner of the hall. I was just about to head to the bar to see where Junjun was, as planned, when a sweet voice rang in my ear: "Sir, are you here alone?" I turned my head and saw a heavily made-up woman standing next to me. She was fairly pretty, and although her smile had a professional air about it, it wasn't unpleasant.

She was wearing a thin-strapped tank top, and her full breasts were bulging out, practically half of them sticking out. Her cropped pants clung tightly to her full hips and thighs, the thin fabric seemingly unable to contain the voluptuousness beneath. These conditions are pretty good on YY, I thought.

She noticed my gaze and apparent hesitation, and her smile became even more captivating. She put one arm around my arm and unconsciously rubbed her breast against my upper arm twice, saying, "Shall we sit down and have a drink?" I took the opportunity to press my arm against her chest and said, "Sure, you sit here for a bit, I'll come back to you after I've walked around."

A hint of unease flashed across her face, as if she feared the half-cooked pig's head would turn into a crane, but then she saw me take out my wallet, pull out a fifty-yuan note, and give it to her. Her eyes immediately lit up, even the glaring lights around us momentarily paled in comparison.

"Go buy yourself a drink and sit down to wait for me," I said. Her gaze followed my wallet into my pocket, then she reluctantly forced herself to look back at me, her expression distracted, and she sweetly replied, "Mmm."

The bar was mostly full, but I shouldn't have trouble finding her. However, after looking around, I couldn't find Junjun. How could this be? We agreed to meet here. I thought to myself, annoyed. She probably went to the restroom! I took out my phone and dialed her number: "Unable to reach her temporarily..." Damn it!

I waited another five minutes, and Junjun still hadn't appeared. Could she have...? I rushed to the "private area" and pretended to casually look around in the dim light. In the dark corners, pairs of shadowy figures huddled together, never revealing the man's hands (at most one). Oh, there seemed to be an exception… wait, wasn't that my wife?

A glance she gave me confirmed my suspicions. Her expression held a hint of resentment, a touch of wantonness, and a dash of embarrassment, all mixed with a somewhat mechanical smile that left me unsure of what to feel.

She was very obedient, saving me a seat. Thinking this, I walked to a sofa behind her and gestured for a strong drink. A short while later, Mimi was already sitting on my lap. Her full, bouncy buttocks pressed against my half-erect penis through the thin fabric, her upper body leaning languidly against me.

Not far away, Junjun was already half-lying on the middle-aged man in the same position—she seemed to have completely abandoned her composure after seeing the woman beside me. Her silk scarf was nowhere to be seen, and because she had been sitting for a long time, her already short and elastic miniskirt could no longer cover the bottom of her white buttocks.

I watched as that strange man held my wife of three years in his arms, teasingly caressing her breasts through her clothes with one hand and rubbing her exposed thighs with the other. I felt a fire burning in my stomach, as if I was about to vomit blood, although I didn't know what vomiting blood actually felt like.

The man's hand reached higher and higher, suddenly disappearing completely into her black miniskirt. Junjun's body trembled, one hand seemingly instinctively trying to move down to stop him, but it froze in mid-air before awkwardly returning to its original position. Her chin was slightly raised, her lips parted, and her chest rose and fell noticeably.

I watched him caress my wife's most private parts with abandon, imagining his nimble fingers parting her thong, the rotation on her clitoris driving her wild. Under the influence of alcohol, anger, shame, and pleasure mingled in my mind, and I felt myself about to burst. My hand instinctively slipped under Mimi's vest and grabbed her left breast, eliciting a soft "oh" from her, the pain outweighing her surprise. The full, elastic shape gave me a fleeting pleasure, and I ignored Mimi's moans of dissatisfaction as I kneaded it forcefully.

Mimi's breasts were bigger than my wife's, and they felt wonderful to touch, but my mind was completely on my wife. I saw the man whisper something in Junjun's ear; she shook her head, but suddenly became anxious. The man smiled, said something else to her, and his hand began to move. This time, Junjun lifted her buttocks, seemingly to facilitate his actions.

I heard a soft laugh beside me, and she turned her head slightly to whisper, "Hehe, look! That woman's about to take off her panties!" We both watched as Junjun, in the most inconspicuous way, pulled a small black piece of fabric from under her skirt over her toes, squeezing it into a ball in her palm.

I tried to remain calm and said, "That woman is so sexy! Do you know her?"

Mimi said, "No, she's probably new."

I thought to myself, "It would be strange if she knew her, she's my wife!"

Seeing that I was staring intently at Junjun, Mimi, somewhat unwilling to give up, pinched my penis and exclaimed exaggeratedly, "Wow, look how intently she's watching!" I smiled and reached my other hand towards her inner thigh.

Then, one of the man's hands disappeared again under Junjun's skirt, while the other hand also disappeared mostly inside her tube-shaped blouse. What should have been the curves of her breasts was now only visible as a hand fumbling about.

Suddenly, something unexpected happened. Without warning, his hand yanked down my wife's blouse, completely exposing her left breast, and most of her right breast was also exposed. She tried to push him away and pull her clothes up. But in that brief moment, in the shadows where probably only a few of us could see, my wife's breasts were completely exposed, right in front of the hundreds of people in the dance hall.

I was stunned, even Mimi was dumbfounded. I saw my wife turn around and slap him across the face. The man paused for a moment, then laughed, ignoring her struggles, and pulled her back into his arms. Junjun struggled for a while, then stopped moving.

A short while later, Junjun seemed to get up to use the restroom, and I excused myself and followed her. We walked one after the other into a dark, deserted corner, and Junjun turned and threw herself into my arms, sobbing. I quickly asked what was wrong, and she said that the man had bullied her. I told her that no one saw, it was okay.

Seeing that I wasn't angry, she seemed relieved and asked if I missed her, then jealously asked about Mimi's situation. To help her relax, I embellished the story a bit. Sure enough, she was silent for a few seconds after hearing this, then lowered her head and said, as if mustering her courage, "Honey, he wants it."

I looked at her in surprise and asked, "To bed?" She hummed in agreement, "I said I wouldn't, but he said name your price, and I just casually said three thousand. I didn't expect him to agree."

My heart sank, and I didn't know what to say. Junjun spoke up, "I know you definitely won't agree... Let's go home."

I was a little doubtful and looked up to ask, "Then are you willing?"

Junjun lowered her head and said, "Haven't you always wanted to see it?"

I looked at her, knowing that the moment I had been waiting for had finally arrived. As long as I said yes, my wife would sell her pure body to a stranger, letting him vent and enjoy it at will. But... do I really want to do this? Is this kind of sexual fantasy something that should be realized? That would undoubtedly be incredibly exciting, I know, it would drive me crazy. But what if the excessive stimulation made me lose interest in normal sex forever? What would be the impact on our marriage if I sold my wife?

A wicked thought popped into my head: "Three thousand dollars, just one time, then clean up afterwards, wouldn't it be like nothing happened? A few times a month would be a great help to our lives..."

I was confused.

After a long pause, I looked at my wife and hesitated, saying, "Maybe... let's just forget about it today. So much has already happened, I don't know if I can take the final step right away."

As I spoke, I looked at Junjun's beautiful face, hoping to glean something from her expression. There must be something, I thought. I heard a soft exhale, as if she had breathed a sigh of relief, yet also seemed to feel a little empty and disappointed.

I quickly dismissed Mimi with a few words, not forgetting to slip two large bills between her ample breasts. Mimi realized she wouldn't earn more by staying any longer, so she happily went off to her second round of business, sweetly telling me to come see her again next time. Things

weren't so easy with his wife; the man was clearly unhappy. No wonder, a wealthy man who can afford three thousand a time probably always gets things done his way.

They were discussing something, but Junjun kept shaking her head, her eyes lowered as if she dared not look at him. Finally, he gave up, angrily tossing a few bills at her. One even fell to the ground. Junjun stared at that bill for a full three seconds before bending down to pick it up.

When I saw her face again, she was still biting her lip, looking like she was about to cry. That innocent look reminded me of when she was the girl I was pursuing, dressed like a prostitute—I think it was the sexiest sight I had ever seen.

The two of them walked towards the door, one after the other. I felt a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. Thinking about what I had just seen and the potential for something to happen, I desperately wanted to vent. She'd had a hard night; I'd definitely make it up to her when we got home. A smile involuntarily crept onto my lips.

Suddenly, Junjun, who was walking ahead, stopped as if someone had stopped her. In an instant, my brain made a decision that I'm quite impressed with myself for: I continued walking as if I hadn't seen anything. My eyes glanced around absentmindedly and I saw that two young men had stopped her. One of them looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn't remember where I had seen him before.

I made sure I had disappeared from their sight before going around behind them and trying to hear what they were saying amidst the loud music, but of course, it was in vain. But when I saw Junjun's expression, it was the despair of someone caught red-handed doing something wrong. My heart sank; I realized what had happened—these two men must be acquaintances of my wife, and they had most likely witnessed what she had just done. Judging from their posture, they were definitely threatening and extorting my wife. My brain raced, but I couldn't think of a solution.

Just as I hesitated, the two young men, one on each side, "escorted" Junjun out the door, and I had no choice but to steel myself and follow behind at a distance. Fortunately, they didn't call a taxi; instead, they headed towards a hotel near YY. At that moment, an idea struck me, and I dialed Junjun's number. After a few rings, I heard her whimper, her voice trembling violently.

"Are those two people acquaintances of yours?"

"Yes."

"Where are you going now?"

"..."

I cursed myself for being an idiot; of course, she couldn't answer that question.

"Are they trying to blackmail you?"

"Yes."

"Do they want money or your life?"

"...In the second drawer."

If it weren't for this situation, I almost burst out laughing.

"I'll follow you. Pretend to hang up your phone so I can listen for any noise."

"Okay... um... goodbye."

With a keystroke and a rustling sound, I finally heard their conversation.

"Who is it?"

"My husband."

"Does your husband know you're out like this?"

"No...no."

"What are you doing?"

"I said I'm having a midnight snack."

"Haha, your husband is so easy to fool."

"Yeah, but his wife is about to become our midnight snack, haha!"

Two male voices burst into laughter, igniting a surge of anger in me.

By this time, the three of them had already reached the back of the hotel. After a few twists and turns, they arrived at a dark corner. On one side was a high, mottled wall, and on the other side were piles of wooden crates and miscellaneous items. Only from the corner where I was hiding could one see inside.

One of them said, "How's it going? Not bad, right?"

"You know your way around, haven't you? This isn't your first time here

, is it?" "Of course! I've slept with at least half a dozen women here!"

"Alright, alright, stop bragging. This... how do we do this?"

"Strip her down, I'll have my fun first."

As he spoke, the burly man grabbed Junjun from behind and pulled her into his arms, tearing off her top with one hand. Junjun let out a cry of pain, but her struggles seemed so powerless. Her exposed breasts were not very clear in the darkness, but they already struck me like a thunderbolt.

"Stop pretending to be virtuous, you were selling yourself just now!" the other man laughed and cursed, grabbing the breast that the fat man hadn't paid attention to.

"You know what, back when I saw her at work, she was like a princess, completely ignoring someone like me. Who would have thought she was two-faced, a princess by day and a whore by night?"

Now I finally remembered. This fat man was Junjun's former driver, who had given her a ride once. Junjun had never liked him, considering him vulgar and uncultured. Who could have imagined that years later, she would be helplessly violated by him in public? The two

young men continued their assault, stripping Junjun naked and sandwiching her like a sandwich, kissing and groping her wildly. Their four hands roughly kneaded and vented their desires on my wife's pure body. Her breasts and vulva were distorted and twisted under their clutches, causing her to writhe and try to escape, but there was nowhere to run.

In this moment, accompanied by my wife's short, hoarse humming coming from the phone, I felt like I was on a roller coaster, sliding from the top to the bottom. It was a strange feeling, a mix of despair, fear, excitement, and anticipation. I could hear my heart pounding against my chest with an intensity I had never felt before, so intense that I almost fainted.

A voice screamed anxiously in my head, "Let go, you bastards!"

Another, eyes red with rage, hissed, "Fuck her! Get her in! Fuck my wife!"

As if hearing my cries, the fat man pulled down his pants, revealing his weapon, bent his legs slightly, and forcefully thrust his penis into Junjun's fair, naked buttocks. Junjun cried out in terror, hurriedly saying, "No! You promised not to do this!" She frantically tried to push the fat man away with both hands.

But the two men were in high spirits, and they weren't about to let her go. The skinny man grabbed Junjun's arms, one in each hand, and pulled them back in front of her. Ignoring my wife's protests, the fat man grabbed her struggling buttocks with one hand and thrust his penis in with the other.

I knew that if I didn't step in now, my wife of three years would be raped in front of me. Although I'd been fantasizing about it, the woman I'd pursued relentlessly for a year, the woman who'd shared all my joys and sorrows, my love and hate, was about to be violated by these two despicable bastards. I couldn't help but want to jump out and shout to stop them, but… if I stepped in now, wouldn't that be telling them I'd been watching from the dance hall all this time? Besides, they had a firm grip on Junjun's secrets. If I didn't give in to them now, and they told all our acquaintances, we'd both be too ashamed to show our faces in this city.

No sooner said than done, while I was still struggling with my thoughts, a woman's scream came from my phone. Junjun was gripping the skinny man's arm tightly, her face contorted in agony, clearly having been penetrated by the fat man and not properly lubricated. Her fingernails were probably digging into the skinny man's arm, causing him to cry out in pain as well.

My heart clenched violently, as if a giant hand had grabbed it and was violently pulling it away from me. My wife had finally been fucked, just as I had fantasized about a thousand times, only this time it was unbelievably real. My head felt incredibly heavy, as if a green hat was pressing down on it, making it impossible for me to lift my head.

I strained to crane my neck, trying to reclaim some of my masculine dignity, but all I saw was the fat man thrusting vigorously behind my wife, her naked body trembling with each impact. Her once flowing hair was grabbed by the fat man, forcing her to tilt her head back and gasp for breath. The increasingly faint sounds of pain in her moans offered me some relief.

The fat man's face was tense; he was clearly experiencing intense pleasure—I was all too familiar with the feeling of having sex with her from behind, even the satisfaction of grabbing her hair. I often tormented my wife like this; that feeling of humiliation made her incredibly wild. I never imagined she would be so thoroughly violated today. Although I wasn't the one violently penetrating my wife's plump, tender vagina from behind, I could clearly feel a different kind of stimulation. This feeling pierced my body and soul like a sharp sword, shrouding the sexual ecstasy in a haze of pain. Undeniably, I loved that feeling.

I watched helplessly as that despicable, ugly man frantically enjoyed my wife, while my own genitals swelled to their limit with the overwhelming pleasure within me. This sexual ecstasy reminded me of the satisfaction of conquering my wife the first time I penetrated her, the release I felt when I urinated on her face for the first time, and it was clearly more unforgettable. This vortex of pleasure made me dizzy, countless thoughts swirling in my mind. One moment I wondered if Junjun was experiencing pleasure, and the next I wondered if my lewd fetish was a manifestation of masochistic tendencies in my subconscious.

The skinny man, who had already taken off his pants, was getting impatient. His penis seemed thicker and longer than the fat man's, and he kept thrusting towards Junjun's body. However, she was being penetrated from behind, her buttocks sticking up high, so he could only press against her navel. He would sometimes bend down to suckle her nipples, and her breasts would tremble with the fat man's thrusts, often pressing the skinny man's nose flat, but he didn't seem to care.

Although the fat man couldn't see clearly, he roughly understood the situation and couldn't help but speak up: "Hey, why don't you let her bend down and blow on you? I'll switch with you later."

I cursed inwardly, but the skinny man was reminded by my words. He grabbed Junjun's hair and pressed her down, forcing her to bend over. She pushed the skinny man away with one hand, looking at the ugly penis dangling in front of her with disgust, seemingly very unwilling.

The skinny man was a little impatient. He grabbed his penis and shoved it into my wife's mouth. She flinched a few times, but her sexy red lips finally gave way. The long, thick penis rudely pierced her throat, causing her to wince in pain. Her hands reflexively tried to push the skinny man away. The skinny man held her head tightly, preventing her from escaping, and thrust and twisted violently inside her. My wife could no longer scream, only make gurgling sounds like she was drowning, saliva uncontrollably dribbling from the corners of her mouth.

This was probably the most painful oral sex she had ever experienced, I thought with heartache. Even in my most frenzied and sadistic moments, I had never penetrated her throat like this. A pang of jealousy shot through me; I secretly wondered when I could have her do this for me.

Finally, the skinny man slightly withdrew his penis and began thrusting in and out of my wife's mouths, one after the other, along with the fat man. Although they were quite in sync, the skinny man's penis still frequently slipped out of her mouth, each time he quickly and forcefully thrust it back into her throat. Over time, perhaps to avoid his rough actions, Junjun would actually take the initiative to grab it and put it back in her mouth, and the movements of her mouth gradually became more varied from the initial monotonous and passive ones.

The fat man behind her clearly felt the wetness of her vagina and laughed, "Hey! It's wet, it's wet!"

I felt a pang of sadness and could only comfort myself that it was a normal physiological reaction for women, a natural mechanism of self-protection. Junjun, perhaps feeling ashamed after being told that, or perhaps thinking of me watching, symbolically twisted and turned a few times to escape, only to be met with even more roughness and ridicule from the two men.

Not long after, the skinny guy spoke up: "Hey, I said, let's switch. I want to try this slut's pussy."

The fat guy reluctantly grunted in agreement, thrusting hard a few times before pulling his penis out abruptly. I heard my wife cry out, not with the joy of relief, but rather with a hint of emptiness and loss.

When they switched positions, Junjun remained in the bent-over, buttocks-up position, completely resigned to her fate. The skinny guy, who had been waiting for his turn, immediately thrust in, letting out a satisfied sigh.

The fat man vented all his dissatisfaction on my wife, gripping his penis, which was covered in her juices, and said fiercely, "Mr. XX, this is all your juices! Lick it clean!"

My wife gave him a resentful look and obediently began licking from the base of his penis, even actively sucking his testicles without being asked. Although I couldn't see the fat man's expression, I could imagine the surprise and pleasure in his mind, so much so that he didn't even utter a mocking word.

The skinny man wasn't bad either; his tools were superior to the fat man's, and since his belly wasn't in the way, he could penetrate deeper than the fat man. My sensitive wife clearly sensed the difference, and her mental defenses were gradually shattered. What started as restrained moans turned into unrestrained cries of pleasure. I could even hear the squelching sounds of her fluids as she moved on the phone.

She was aroused! How could this be? My wife, though a slut in our bed, was usually quite respectable. In front of others, she was an absolutely virtuous woman, yet now, under the circumstances of being raped, she experienced intense sexual pleasure and shamelessly displayed it in front of these wicked men!

I watched all this with fury, feeling an urgent need to release, and unconsciously pulled out my long-suppressed penis and began masturbating. Watching two strangers rape—no, sexually assault—while he masturbated alongside their wives, I experienced an indescribable, wicked, and intense pleasure amidst a profound sense of guilt. It felt like I was simultaneously at the depths of despair and the pinnacle of life.

I'd heard that fat men weren't very good at this, and this one was no exception. His face was already tense, and he was clearly holding back when he finally reached his limit. But who could laugh at him? I think he'd never played with such a beautiful woman so cruelly in his life.

He quickened his pace, his large belly repeatedly bumping against Junjun's face. Suddenly, he let out a low growl, his body pausing for several seconds, as if unable to move an inch at the moment of ultimate climax. Junjun's brows furrowed; it seemed the fat man had released quite a bit. His calves trembled slightly and moved slowly a few times, as if all his strength had left him, and he could no longer support his bloated body. He collapsed to the ground, panting heavily, seemingly oblivious to my wife's action of spitting the sticky mixture onto the ground.

At this moment, Junjun broke free from the fat man's grasp and was completely focused on being fucked by the skinny man. She supported herself against the wall with one hand and propped up her straight, beautiful legs with the other. Her long, flowing hair, which had been treated with negative ions, was now a mess, dancing wildly with his thrusts and rolls, just like the lewd moans coming from her throat.

The skinny man, sweating profusely, cursed, "Is it good, you slut! How do I compare to your husband?"

My wife ignored him, offering no response, but I wondered what her answer might be. The thought that she might genuinely think that man was better than me filled me with an unusual excitement. I knew I was about to climax, but I really wanted to join them. Thankfully, they didn't keep me waiting too long.

The skinny man gradually increased the frequency and intensity of his thrusts, and my wife cheered him on even more enthusiastically. Soon, the naked couple's actions reached a dizzying level, and he suddenly shouted, "I'm going to cum inside!"

That shout finally pushed me to my limit; a chill ran down my spine, and my semen shot out a meter away.

As his wife's cries grew louder, he finally ejaculated. His thrusts continued relentlessly, powerful and relentless, pounding her to the very peak of ecstasy. Watching each impact, rhythmically accompanying my own ejaculation, I felt all the pent-up anger and stimulation find release.

What a sight! My distant sense of morality wailed. This bizarre trio, simultaneously floating on the clouds of wicked climax, each man and woman harboring such dark thoughts and pleasures.

They finally left, abandoning her—the woman who had just given them such pleasure—like a broken toy, taking only her underwear as a "souvenir," and some leverage, I thought to myself.

She stood there, dazed, not even dressed. The soft moonlight, which had been shyly hiding its face, peeked out from behind the clouds, illuminating her exquisite body and gently caressing her bruised and battered skin. I was suddenly overwhelmed with jealousy; my beautiful wife, my pride, was no longer mine alone.

I stepped forward to face her, but didn't go to her side. She looked at me with tears in her eyes, motionless. I gazed at her; she had never looked so beautiful, I thought, yet I had never felt so distant from her. I felt only bitterness in my heart and utter exhaustion. She searched for understanding and love in my eyes, but found nothing. Two tears rolled down her cheeks almost simultaneously, falling onto her full breasts, where they clung to her nipples, trembling precariously.

She looked at me through her teary eyes, a sight that filled me with both anger and pity. What should I do? What could I possibly do? I asked myself. The deep darkness enveloped us; not a single light could be seen.

That evening, I felt I should comfort Junjun. I placed her soft, white legs on my shoulders and kissed her vulva. It was astringent there, with some redness and swelling around it, like a flower after the rain. Wounded and bruised from being shaken, Junjun frowned slightly and moaned softly. I squeezed harder, and a stream of white fluid was squeezed out, flowing into my mouth…

I looked at Junjun, my heart filled with pity, and secretly vowed that Junjun's situation today was also my fault. If I hadn't enjoyed Junjun being played with by others, it wouldn't have become real. Even if Junjun really made a mistake, as long as she was with me, I would always be good to her.

The next day, Junjun lay in bed, saying she was in pain. I looked closely and saw that poor Junjun's vagina was swollen.

Junjun and I were walking down the street when someone called her name from behind. Junjun's face flushed red. I turned around and saw it was Fatty. He handed me some candy, saying, "I was a groom yesterday. The bride is just as beautiful as Junjun. Here, have some wedding candy."

More than two months passed, and nothing happened. No one at Junjun's workplace knew about that night, and we relaxed.

But I noticed that when she wasn't doing anything, Junjun would often sit quietly, lost in thought, her face flushing. When Junjun and I made love, we rarely mentioned our shared sexual fantasies, and Junjun didn't reach orgasm anymore.

One day, Junjun told me she saw Fatty. He greeted her warmly and didn't mention what happened that night. Perhaps because of this, she felt Fatty wasn't as annoying as she used to think. She also told me that both Fatty and Skinny had lovers at work, and both were very beautiful.

That night, Junjun showed unusual excitement and asked to continue her sexual fantasies, which I agreed to. Unexpectedly, Junjun's fantasies focused on Skinny and Fatty. She passionately called out their names and made love to me intensely; we both had several orgasms.

Afterwards, I asked Junjun, "Do you really want them to fuck you again?" To my surprise, my wife blushed and nodded shyly, saying, "Their dicks...are really...bigger than yours." Only then did I realize that my wife had developed a taste for them and was thinking about them every day.

My fear had subsided, but my cuckoldry complex had intensified. My heart skipped a beat, and I said to Junjun, "The thought of my wife being a prostitute excites me. I love it when other men touch my Junjun's body and ride her."

Junjun initially disagreed, but then jokingly said, "I've just learned to be good, and you're making me go bad again. Don't be angry if I really do go bad this time." I smiled and said, "Don't you already have a record?" "Then

I'll continue to be a slutty woman for you. But if I'm played by other men again, I'll have to be nice to them, seduce them, even become their mistress, call them 'husband.' Can you handle that?"

"Go ahead and have fun, I won't blame you, because I chose this myself. Besides, I'll personally officiate your wedding before you go to the bridal chamber." After

I finished speaking, Junjun suddenly blushed, gave me a quick kiss, and said playfully, "In a few days, I'll definitely give you a gift—the most beautiful green hat, so you can be a little turtle forever." But Junjun didn't go to the dance hall again; she said she wanted to wait for me to take her to the bridal chamber once more.

A few days later, Junjun told me in a very lewd tone that she saw the skinny guy again, and he even waved to her. She didn't know why, but she gave him my home address and blew him a kiss.

Several thoughts flashed through my mind in an instant, but recalling the scene from that day, I couldn't help but get an erection. I think that although she was raped that time, they were still the second men to enter my wife's body, leaving her with an indelible memory.

But Junjun has always looked down on them, could it be...?

I said to Junjun, "Have you fallen for them?" Junjun blushed, lowered her head, fidgeted with her fingers, and hesitated to speak to me.

I guessed that Junjun was conflicted, because she couldn't very well ask to have an affair in front of her husband! Although she was seeking sexual stimulation and pleasure, taking that step was not easy, especially since she had stumbled badly the first time. But the thrill of having an affair was deeply tempting to her. Even so, I didn't believe that Junjun would really like them.

That evening, Junjun took a shower and put on some perfume. Strangely, she wouldn't let me touch her.

The next day, Junjun wore the clothes she had worn when she went out to sell things that day, but she wasn't wearing underwear (they had taken her underwear from that day), revealing her snow-white shoulders and the barely visible curves of her breasts. She then helped me up, lifted her leg, and quickly applied nail polish to her ten toes. I was puzzled as I watched her draw her eyebrows and apply lipstick.

After breakfast, a car horn suddenly sounded downstairs. Junjun glanced out the window, her voice trembling slightly, and her face flushed as she said to me, "That fatso is here, what do we do?" Only then did I understand the reason for Junjun's actions. Suddenly, the phrase "blushing cheeks, rapid breathing, hot breath, eyes filled with longing, anticipating sharing the joys of love with you" came to mind. I figured my wife must be completely flustered right now! It's not like she hasn't been with them before.

The wicked thought finally triumphed over reason. I told Junjun I was going out to hide for half a day, and that she could do whatever she wanted. Junjun blushed and turned to go into the bedroom. What was Junjun doing in there? I found it strange.

After a while, I pushed open the door and went in. I saw she had already made the bed; the three pillows were neatly arranged side by side, the comforter was folded neatly, and there were two condoms and a wad of toilet paper on the bedside table. Junjun saw that I had seen her, and she became even more shy.

I thought to myself, "Jun Jun is really going astray." But it was too late to regret it.

She waved to me and walked towards the door. Her bare legs were visible through her half-open skirt, revealing her shapely buttocks, slender waist, full breasts, and long neck. I knew that moment was approaching, and I felt an overwhelming urge. I quickly left the house through the back door. Everything was locked away in another world behind that closed door.

At noon, I returned home and found the two young men having lunch with Jun Jun. Junjun wore a cropped blouse, revealing her two pointed nipples, the alluring tips of which were faintly visible. Beneath her mini-skirt, her fair, glossy calves and smooth, tender thighs were exposed. White high-heeled sandals with delicate straps outlined her perfect, snow-white feet. Her smooth ankles and glistening toes were exquisite, her toes neat and slender, the curves of her feet beautiful. Her pert breasts and watery eyes were flushed. Her lipstick was gone; I couldn't tell if it was from eating or…

Upon seeing me, the two greeted me warmly. Junjun introduced the fat man and the thin man as her friends, saying they had just arrived. I knew it was an excuse. The fat man, with a smile in his eyes, handed me a few pieces of candy, saying they were married.

After a while, they made an excuse to get up and leave. After they left, Junjun lowered her head shyly, too embarrassed to look at me, with the expression of a child who had stolen candy—so adorable! Suddenly, she kissed me, and there was a metallic taste in her mouth; I guessed it was the taste of semen.

I asked Junjun, and she shyly told me, "Let me tell you a secret, I let them pee in my mouth, and they didn't make me spit it out, I ate it all." Then she playfully said to me, "Honey, I did everything you wanted, aren't you going to reward me? Don't you like other men touching my body and riding me? They took turns riding me, saying I was their girl. I let them fuck me all morning, and they even ejaculated inside me. Look..." As she spoke, Junjun took off her pants.

I found that my wife's vagina was stuffed with a wad of toilet paper. After removing the toilet paper, a sticky, slightly yellowish-white liquid flowed down her thighs. "Do you like it?" My wife's loose black hair was casually tied behind her back, and her captivating almond-shaped eyes radiated a watery, spring-like allure. "Yes!" I answered vaguely, taking a deep breath, feeling utterly lost.

That evening, Junjun asked me to help her bathe. As I gently wiped her smooth back and touched her slender waist, a bitter feeling welled up inside me. Her long, thin waist reminded me of how that figure had once been thrusting and groveling in the arms of those two thugs. Seeing her petite buttocks reminded me of how she had sat naked in their laps, her body gripping their wet penises in a piston-like motion. Now, Junjun's paradise had been filled with their fluids for the second time, and she had even tasted their semen—something even my girl had never tasted. They would definitely ride her again in the future. What could I do?

I asked Junjun, "Do you now like the people you used to look down on?" Junjun told me that after interacting with these kinds of people, she's gotten used to their vulgar language, especially when they call her a "slut" or a "bitch," which she finds exciting. Although she thinks they're thugs, she also finds them very manly, so now she's willingly being their little mare, letting them ride her, play with her, and sleep with her. The fat

guy and the skinny guy have also become familiar with me, and we often go out together. They even introduce me to women. They tell me that the respectable young women they've had their fill of all have husbands, guaranteeing they're disease-free, and they can have sex with them without condoms.

We seem to have become friends. One night, we got a room and drank quite a bit. The fat guy hugged Junjun and asked me to take pictures of them. Junjun giggled and struggled, which only fueled his lust. I clearly saw a large bulge in the fat guy's pants, and Junjun's hand was pressed against it. Seeing that I wasn't angry, the fat guy's hand went inside Junjun's clothes and touched her breasts. Junjun blushed and slapped his hand away.

I sat there, grinning foolishly, not knowing what to say, but I didn't stop them. Seeing that I wasn't angry, the fat guy and the skinny guy went further, undressing Junjun. Junjun, half-naked, flirted with them. That night I drank quite a bit and eventually drifted off to sleep.

The next day, I opened my eyes despite my headache and found that Fatty was gone, and Junjun was sleeping soundly, naked, in Skinny's arms, her hand still holding Skinny's penis.

Skinny apologized to me; I guessed they had planned it. It was already a fact, and besides, I was partly responsible. I had slept with their women, so wasn't it normal for them to sleep with my wife? I said to Skinny, "Make my wife feel better."

That day, Skinny pressed himself against the naked Junjun in front of me, and I watched with my own eyes as his ugly thing entered Junjun's body. Junjun hugged Skinny, excitedly shouting, "Husband, fuck me!" Her buttocks twisted violently, cooperating with Skinny's rape.

After Junjun and the skinny guy finished playing, she took a green thing out of her bag. I then realized it was a hat, and the skinny guy carefully put it on my head.

From then on, Junjun became more open. She interacted boldly with both the fat guy and the skinny guy, but Junjun seemed to be closer to the skinny guy. In front of outsiders, the skinny guy called Junjun his mistress; Junjun smiled charmingly, linked her arm with his, and called him "husband," but introduced me as their friend. The fat guy's position was basically gone; Junjun wouldn't let him touch her anymore. I even wanted Junjun to go to the dance hall to dress up as a prostitute, but Junjun refused to go.

Through several "unintentional" inspirations and confessions from the skinny guy, Junjun gradually fell into his tender trap. The skinny guy was no longer a "despicable" villain, but a lover who loved and cared for her. She revolved around the skinny guy in everything, obediently maintaining his authority. She often unconsciously used some intimate and cheesy little tricks between lovers or spouses on the skinny guy, while I gradually became unimportant.

Physiologically, day and night, in dangerous places like open spaces, they used novel and stimulating positions, sometimes gentle and sweet, sometimes fierce and wild, to engage in thrusting. Accompanied by sweet words from a lover or the domineering and brutal nature of a strong man, the skinny man completely aroused the physical and lewd desires of this young woman with intense lust. During sex, she displayed not only shyness and flirtation, but also passion and infatuation. As

the days passed, under the skinny man's deliberate cultivation, Junjun became more and more beautiful, like a girl in love, living each day in passionate, sweet, and warm care. The whole family gradually accepted this outsider, or rather, the whole family gradually became this outsider's world, revealing the harmony and sweetness of the family.

Junjun was noticeably distant from me. When I wanted to have sex with her, she said she was now Skinny's exclusive woman and had to ask her master for permission. Skinny graciously allowed Junjun to sleep with me. Junjun was probably already used to Skinny's big penis, and my sexual ability was far from satisfying her. When we made love, I couldn't ignite that spark of excitement.

When Junjun wasn't home, I asked Skinny if he loved Junjun. The skinny man smiled contemptuously and asked me, "Don't you like your wife being played with by other men? She's just one of my concubines now. Once I'm done with her, I'll find a few more men to play with her, train her into a wanton slut, a whore who gets wet at the sight of a man's penis, a completely wanton and depraved hussy, and then I'll give her back to you."

I told Junjun what the skinny man said, but Junjun didn't believe him at all. On the contrary, she seemed to like the skinny man more and more. When he wasn't coming, Junjun eagerly awaited their arrival, and even washed his dirty clothes, underwear, and smelly socks. Conversely, she became increasingly cold towards me, unwilling to let me touch her. When I wanted to have sex with her, she asked me, "I don't love you anymore, do you feel anything?" -- At that moment, I only felt regret!

The driver's working hours were irregular; the skinny guy often came at night. Sometimes he was so tired he lay in bed, and Junjun would help him take off his socks and wash his feet, being more attentive than a wife. After spending more time with him, I discovered that the skinny guy had a bad temper.

Once, the skinny guy asked Junjun to suck his penis, and Junjun said, "It smells too bad, you should wash yourself first!" This angered the skinny guy, and he slapped her. Junjun cried pitifully, knelt on the floor, and, with tears in her eyes, took the skinny guy's penis into her mouth. I was furious in the next room, but there was nothing I could do, because Junjun eventually went to the skinny guy's bed and fell into his arms again.

In the morning, Junjun gently dressed the skinny guy, and finally kissed him on the lips, watching him leave the room like a young wife seeing her husband off. I asked Junjun, "What do you consider your relationship with Skinny?" She replied quite naturally, "A concubine." I couldn't understand what Junjun liked about him. Was the humiliation he inflicted on her what he called masculinity?

Whenever he had a holiday, Skinny would pick her up. Junjun treated Skinny's wife with great respect, calling her "sister," clearly indicating her status as a concubine.

A year passed in the blink of an eye. Junjun and Skinny had slept together far more often than I had. Junjun became pregnant, and Skinny persuaded her to have an abortion. I was secretly pleased because I knew it wasn't my child.

Skinny came less and less often. I knew Junjun was getting tired of him. Since Skinny had had his fill of Junjun, he would generously offer her up to other men, because Junjun was just one of his women. Junjun, however, had become noticeably thinner.

The skinny guy finally arrived, bringing another man with him. Although he was very strong, he was rustic, like a farmer, and I could tell Junjun disliked him. The skinny guy said he was his loader.

Junjun was particularly excited that day, snuggling close to the skinny guy and talking in a sultry voice, but the skinny guy just patted her face, told her to keep his friend company, and then told me to leave with him. In the skinny guy's car, he told me that he had had enough of Junjun, but this girl was no longer suitable to be my wife. Before returning her to me, he planned to find Junjun several different kinds of men so that she could accept all kinds of men, and then train her to return to her old profession—a prostitute—to earn money for me for a few years.

The next morning, I returned home and opened the door to find the farmer pulling his limp penis (though soft, it was still larger than average) out of Junjun's vagina. Thick, white semen was flowing from her vagina; her face and body were flushed, and her eyes were misty, as if brimming with autumn water. I knew the old farmer's sexual prowess was stronger than ours, and Junjun had already been satisfied.

Sure enough, the skinny man brought men to patronize Junjun every few days, and of course, the money all went into his pocket. As she came into contact with more men, the skinny man faded from Junjun's heart. When she had sex with him, she no longer felt the same excitement as before, and I certainly couldn't either. Junjun no longer says things like she's a skinny woman. I guess Junjun's vagina has adapted to penises that are thicker than ours.

During this time, I not only lost money to my wife but also failed to earn any. However, I made Junjun realize that men were just playing with her and that love doesn't exist outside of marriage. Although the affair ended, her bad lifestyle became well-known. My colleagues started gossiping behind my back, and the gossip would suddenly stop when I appeared. I knew that Junjun and the skinny guy's affair couldn't be kept secret, but they all pretended not to know.

Even in ordinary times, she wasn't as dignified as before. Now she likes to wear short skirts, low-cut tops, and thin shirts, and she often doesn't wear a bra, letting her breasts sway as she walks. When we walk together, Junjun's eyes always unconsciously steal glances at the men next to her. When she sees a muscular man, Junjun often holds my hand tightly, her face flushing. When I'm not around, she's always flirting with some shady men. I knew the skinny guy had succeeded in his training; he had successfully tamed Junjun into a slut, a wanton woman. Junjun now preferred rogue-type men.

The skinny guy hadn't brought any men for a while, and Junjun seemed to have lost something. Finally, one day, Junjun told me she was addicted to having sex with different men and was preparing to actually become a prostitute.

This time, Junjun and I went to a dance hall. I arrived a little late and couldn't find Junjun. Because I needed to urinate, I went to the restroom. Suddenly, I clearly heard rhythmic moans from inside, and I could even hear the rapid thrusting of a penis into her vagina. The voice sounded familiar; I could hardly believe my ears, and my heart pounded.

After a while, sure enough, a man emerged, carrying a disheveled, dazed Junjun. The man suddenly saw me and called out to me excitedly. To my embarrassment, this man was my elementary school classmate. We hadn't seen each other for a long time, and he didn't even know that Junjun and I were married. Of course, he couldn't have imagined that the woman he was with today was my wife.

He walked up to me with Junjun in his arms, his hand still kneading her plump buttocks, and introduced her to me as a new girl he had met. He even said that of all the women he had slept with, none were as beautiful as her.

After chatting for a few minutes, he invited me to his house. My wife nestled in his arms, suddenly kissed him, and asked, "Should I come to your house again tonight?" Then, she looked at me with a half-smile.

I looked at my beloved wife; her face was flushed as if she were drunk, her eyes were watery and full of spring, but she showed no tension or fear. I didn't dare tell Junjun that she was my wife. I could only tell my classmates, "I won't disturb your wedding night." Then, feeling a pang of jealousy, I watched helplessly as my wife was led out of the dance hall by my classmates.

That night, I barely slept a wink, my mind filled with the image of my beautiful wife sleeping naked in someone's arms.

The next morning, Junjun finally dragged her weary body back to my side.

"Baby, he didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Silly, how could he hurt you! It's fine. I'm exhausted, I don't want to shower anymore, I want to sleep for a while before showering. His penis is thicker than yours, it stretched my pussy tight, I had five or six orgasms, and he made me wet a lot."

"Didn't you wear a condom?"

"Wearing a condom is such a waste."

I lay down between her legs, of course looking at her vulva that had just been penetrated by a man's penis. Junjun's full labia majora were a little red from the impact of the man's pubic area; her labia minora protruded slightly, covering the entrance to her vagina. As her thighs moved, her little hole filled with semen was vaguely revealed, but it was quickly covered by her closed labia again. That night, my brain was finally saturated by that sour and lewd smell.

At dawn, I examined the lewd marks on Junjun's crotch while masturbating again.

Later, my classmate finally found out he was sleeping with my wife. He told me he'd ridden many women, but my wife was the easiest.

Junjun quit her job and went to work at a Thai massage parlor. She truly fell, becoming a prostitute in name only. When I visited her, she was often lying lazily in other men's arms, as if I didn't exist.

I didn't stop Junjun's promiscuity, and Junjun remained sincere with me, considering me her best friend and often sharing her affairs with me. Sometimes she would bring me recordings of her having sex with other men. Listening to the sounds of their genitals colliding and my wife's wanton moans, imagining Junjun's legs on another man's shoulders, being penetrated at a 90-degree angle by a huge, hard penis, thrusting all the way in, would make me ejaculate. During the day, I regretted everything I did, but at night, enduring the loneliness, imagining my beautiful wife possibly being pinned down and moaning softly, I was still quite excited.

A year later, I knew more than twenty men who had slept with Junjun. Junjun earned a lot of money, and our financial situation was very good. Although Junjun was still beautiful, she was also called the "men's toilet" (meaning: every man had to finish before leaving, and sometimes they had to go together). Although Junjun was a womanizer, she hated that nickname.

We didn't want to stay here anymore, so we left Shanghai and went to a city where no one knew us. We found very respectable jobs and started a new life. Junjun was very dignified and didn't associate with any disreputable men. She quickly got promoted and became the head of her department.

Of course, I couldn't take off the cuckold's hood anymore. I could no longer satisfy Junjun. Sometimes when she wanted to, I would accompany her to dance halls and watch her being played with by the men she liked. After all, no one there knew about her past. Junjun still liked playing love games with men. In the new city, it took Junjun a long time to be conquered by a man. I knew Junjun's vagina needed a big penis, but such men were really rare. We finally found someone, so Junjun and I rented another small room to make him think we were on par with him.

But the man was just an ordinary worker, with nothing remarkable about him except for his strong physique and penis. He also had a terrible temper, and Junjun was often verbally abused and even beaten by him. However, she didn't reveal her true identity and continued to be his submissive, just like she had been with the skinny guy, willingly letting him play with her. He didn't know that his beautiful and seductive girlfriend's true identity was far more noble than his. But apart from being fucked by him to satisfy her lust, Junjun no longer loved him, and of course, she stopped working as a prostitute.

From then on, besides me, Junjun only had him as a man, and we lived quietly like most people. No one in Junjun's workplace would have guessed that this dignified and beautiful boss had been ridden by many men and was a slut under the crotch of many men.

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A respectable young woman tries prostitution for the first time.

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