The story of my colleague's wife

I'm the kind of person who values relationships a lot, especially romantic ones. Over the years, I've never gone to a prostitute, let alone had anything with women I don't know. That's like saying I only date people close to me – I've been deceived by one good friend after another, and I can't help it, because I have a taste for it.

Here, I'm talking about the wife of a very good friend of mine. This friend has been my colleague and friend for many years. Although I haven't considered him a close friend for many years due to work, he has always treated me like a buddy, and now he is, of course, my buddy.

He met his wife during his graduate school years; they were from the same hometown and became old flames. Initially, he wasn't planning on pursuing her, but after a series of twists and turns, and with other women, big and small, falling by the wayside, she naturally became his final choice, his wife. I slept with his wife (his girlfriend at the time) even before I slept with my wife; I didn't even know my wife then.

The reason was actually quite simple: he had just said he wanted to commit to his girlfriend when she had to go on a business trip with her boss. He didn't want her to go and asked for my opinion. Naturally, I said that wouldn't work; how could he do that? Wouldn't that be blatantly cheating on him? "Kick him out immediately." Those words became the reason for my regret. I made the same mistake twice, sleeping with two of my friends' wives. Men are truly despicable.

At the time, I thought they were just dating, and that this guy was relatively innocent. But things weren't so simple. After that woman came back, they made up as if nothing had happened and then betrayed me. One day, they invited me to my friend's dorm for dinner. He rented a place outside. When I got there, I realized it was a trap. After eating and drinking for a while, she asked me why I had talked about her like that. I asked what she said, and she said she knew everything. I tried to deny it, but she immediately attacked me. I turned to my friend and argued with him. Poor me, I had been betrayed! My classmate even said he couldn't do anything about it. This guy didn't mean any harm; he just got impulsive and said everything, including me. For this, my classmate apologized to me by making me drink, even making the woman drink as a penalty. Luckily, I have a high alcohol tolerance, otherwise I would have been forced to drink myself to death.

After dinner, my classmate said he had things to do and asked me to stay for dinner. I said I was leaving too, as I was a little unsteady on my feet and a bit tipsy. He said, "Just stay here, we can drink more later." (We've drunk countless amounts of alcohol over the years, and there are so many stories about it.) I had no choice but to stay, sitting with his girlfriend. The awkwardness was so intense I wanted to disappear into a hole. After he left, his girlfriend started nagging me. I had to explain that I was doing it for their own good, and that sometimes you have to tell the truth, right? After a while, we got tired of sitting and talking, so she moved to the bed to lean against. After a while, she asked me to sit on the edge of the bed to talk. Later, she leaned against the wall at one end, and I leaned against the other. We started joking around, and the atmosphere eased a lot. She got tired of nagging, or maybe talking about those kinds of topics was making her feel better. She started playfully saying she wanted to punish me, but I said no, I kept grabbing her little fists as she punched me. We wrestled for a little while, and I unintentionally but intentionally brushed against her breasts countless times. Later, after she grabbed my hand, she brought her mouth close to my ear, and I thought a female prostitute had arrived. She said, "I'm not going to bite you, I just want to say something, okay?" I said okay, and she gently whispered in my ear, "You have to give me a little tap as a gesture, okay?" Seeing her soft, panting breath, I agreed. She gave me a few light taps on my thigh, but except for the first one, the rest were very light, just flirting. Then we played a game of slapping hands, and I retaliated by hitting her thigh, while she dodged and gave me a good look. I forgot to mention, it was autumn, and quite cold. She wore a coat when she arrived, but took it off, revealing stockings, a short skirt, and a little bit of her chest showing, which was still very alluring to me. After our playful fight, she asked me if she was pretty, and I naturally said yes, even complimenting her. She noticed me staring at her thighs and kept adjusting her skirt, revealing her underwear—not pantyhose, though. Later, she covered my eyes with her hand, so I pressed my face against her breasts and began a more physical assault, rubbing my face against them and feeling her nipples harden. My hands started caressing her thighs, slowly moving upwards to her groin, feeling her pubic hair and sensing her shape. This woman was really voluptuous; no wonder she was so horny.

With my intentions firmly in place, I flipped her onto the bed and pinned her down. She said no. I thought I'd have to force myself on her, but she said she wanted to be on top. I rolled her over, pulled down her panties, and she sat on me. I started unbuckling and taking off my pants. As soon as my penis came out, she exclaimed how hard and big it was. I said it was average. Her lower body was already soaking wet, and she immediately took my penis into her mouth and started bouncing on top of me. I also took off her bra, leaving her in her outer garment. I stroked her breasts while she rode me, a horse that brought her great pleasure, the bed creaking loudly. After only a few minutes, she couldn't take it anymore. I felt a rush of water to my head, the fluid flowing between our bodies. She trembled on top of me, mumbling that she couldn't take it anymore. I turned her over and began thrusting into her. Her vagina was easier to penetrate than her front, filled with fluid, each thrust producing a splashing sound. I slowly realized she was actually quite tight. Although she had some experience, she hadn't had sex often; youth makes a difference. After a few thrusts, I increased the frequency (because I wanted to finish quickly in case her boyfriend came home, even though my classmate didn't get back until very late). A few minutes later, I ejaculated, and she reached her second orgasm. This woman's sexual prowess was remarkable; in the long run, I might not be her match. We took a shower together. My penis wouldn't stand up in the bathroom, so I just stroked her for a while. When I was about to leave that night, I was eager again. Sigh! After having dinner with my classmates that evening, I went home. She and her friend were very close, and I jokingly told them to make me jealous. My classmates laughed at me, little did they know that I had already slept with his future wife that afternoon.

After graduation, we lived in the same city and had a lot of contact. I stayed at his house, and they stayed at mine. Basically, every time, I slept with my classmate's wife. I always felt a little guilty towards my classmate. Later, when my classmate stayed at my place alone, he found out that the guy had been trying to sleep with my wife, but because I didn't get married until before I went abroad, my wife rarely spent time with us, so he didn't succeed. But if they were in contact privately, I had no choice but to accept it. If my wife wanted to cheat on me, I don't think even God could help.

Last time I went home, I stayed at their house. That night, his wife wasn't wearing underwear and just stood there. Sometimes when she was talking next to me, when my wife wasn't around, I would reach down and touch her genitals, and I could even penetrate her. That night, she gave her husband some sleeping pills. While my wife was fast asleep, I went to their bed and had sex with her. It was incredibly intense; I ejaculated in just a few minutes. That way, even if my wife noticed I wasn't there, she would only think I got up to pee. The next morning, while we were having breakfast, she waited for me to eat alone (her husband had gone to work, and my wife was tidying up). We touched each other for a while, with my body blocking her view. She even chatted with my wife casually. If someone didn't know better, they would really think we were a married couple.

[The End]

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The story of my colleague's wife

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