The Story of a Cripple

I woke up to a chill in my toes, instinctively pulling them under the covers. As I lifted my leg, I realized I had no feet at all.
Five years have passed, and I still haven't escaped the trauma of that horrific car accident. Occasionally, I still laugh at myself for losing my legs.
I turned to my side, pulled back the covers, and reluctantly grabbed the dirty handle by the bedside. I mustered my strength, propped myself up, and sat on the edge, staring at my mangled legs.
Five years ago, that damned drunk driver in a modified sports car veered onto the sidewalk. My right shinbone was shattered, and my left foot was sheared clean off by the car's undercarriage support. I woke up to find that the doctors had amputated my entire right leg below the knee. Originally, my left leg still had a section of a healthy calf, but the wound kept getting infected. Over ten months, I underwent multiple surgeries, watching the doctors remove piece by piece from my left leg, until even the back of my knee was necrotic from the inflammation and had to be removed, leaving only half of my thigh.
"You want to get up? Let me help you." My wife's voice had barely come from behind me when she was already beside me, reaching out to support me under my armpits, preparing to help me into the wheelchair.
"No need, I can do it myself. You should rest a bit more," I said in a low voice.
My wife said shyly, "I'm not tired, I don't need to rest."
I sat in the wheelchair, and just then, I could see her full breasts through the neckline of her pajamas. Remembering how she had been riding me last night, her seductive and alluring appearance, I hated myself for being a cripple.
Last night, my wife had been particularly enthusiastic in licking my penis; the long-awaited oral sex immediately made it erect. My wife grasped my erect penis, pressing her full lips tightly against the veins on the shaft, her tongue repeatedly licking the glans and urethral opening that were inside her mouth. I remained silent, purely experiencing her ever-changing oral skills through my penis.
When my wife had naturally licked my scrotum and perineum clean, she began to noisily remove her pajamas, bra, and underwear. Naked, she knelt beside me, continuing to suck my penis with all her might. How I longed for this tender silhouette, how I yearned for this passionate moment.
However, when the yellow sunlight from outside pierced through the gaps in the curtains, scattering across my uneven limbs, the beautiful scene suddenly became utterly ridiculous.
My naked wife, oblivious to my changing thoughts, simply straddled me at her own pace. She supported her body with her healthy limbs, her soft, full breasts sweeping upwards over my erect penis. Her large, brown nipples traced a path down my already bloated belly to my chest.
We closed our eyes, listening to each other's breathing, our lips slowly closing, our tongues entwining. In the darkness, my wife's soft hands gently guided my penis, her slightly damp vulva inching around my engorged shaft.
At first, she simply knelt on the bed, slowly swaying her hips back and forth. Her vulva gradually warmed and moistened, her breathing becoming rapid.
I listened to her alluring breaths while feeling the friction of her vulva against my penis. Her hips moved faster and faster, her arousal growing stronger. She placed her hands on my chest, then slowly lifted her lower abdomen; I could clearly feel her vulva gently pulling on my erect penis. As half of my penis slipped out of her vagina, my wife gave a slight jolt, the head of my penis once again pushing deep into her vagina. I heard her gasp, and then she began to swallow and release my penis again.
I stared intently at my wife's beautiful face. She closed her eyes, her small nostrils and full red lips slightly parted, riding my penis with fervor.
At that moment, I was like a human masturbation device, a broken one at that. I understood she needed to close her eyes, create some space, and use her imagination to fully enjoy the process of sex with a broken masturbation device.
My wife wasn't athletic, but her legs were surprisingly stamina-rich; she could continuously bounce up and down on me. In the past, I used to hold her lower body, letting her ride at my preferred rhythm, but now she was like a seasoned rider, firmly holding me beneath her jade-like legs. My wife constantly varied the strength and speed of her riding, excitedly embarking on the path of pleasure.
She cupped her violently shaking breasts in her hands, unconsciously pinching and playing with her large nipples, letting out obscene moans: "Oh ah~~~ Good husband, I'm coming! Don't stop! Hoo oh ah oh~~~"
Seeing the prelude to my wife's orgasm, hearing her ecstatic moans, I felt nothing special. I was just a legless, human-shaped vibrator, powerless, only able to lie obediently on the bed, watching my wife vigorously ride my broken body from below until I ejaculated a stream of hot semen inside her vagina.
"Ah ah~~~ Ah~~~ Husband, I love you." She kissed me passionately, "Ah~ I really love you."
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My wife and I met at my old boss's hair salon. At the time, I was already a top-notch hairstylist, while she was just a shampoo girl, twelve years younger than me, who had only recently entered the workforce.
Back then, at nineteen, she was youthful and charming. The baby fat on her face was slowly fading, and her pretty features were gradually emerging. Her eyes, slightly curved like cashews, always held a smile. Her full lips were plump and luscious, perfectly complementing her straight yet delicate nose and chin like a tomoe. She was as perfect as a manga heroine, unforgettable at first sight.
At that time, we, a group of hairdressers, witnessed her transformation from a girl into a woman. From her clumsy appearance when she first started working, she gradually transformed. Her slightly chubby feet gradually became a pair of shapely legs, and her round waist gradually revealed a graceful waistline. The young girl began to know how to wear more flattering and fashionable tops, allowing her once shy breasts to emerge, confidently displaying her proud curves.
This shampoo girl who blossomed into a beautiful young woman soon became my girlfriend. From then on, she was like my lucky charm. My career went smoothly, and soon I had my own small hair salon and our child. After we got married, she stayed home to manage everything, while I worked diligently, starting from a small hair salon and eventually owning two fairly large hair salons in the city. Just as I was planning the next decade of my life, I was in a serious car accident. I lost both my legs; I lost my life.
After numerous and lengthy surgeries, and after doctors completely removed my left knee, I sold all my shares in both hair salons to my partners and employees. Reality was cruel. Even though my hands were still as nimble as ever, no one wanted to patronize a "chief hairstylist" in a wheelchair. For over ten months without work, my partners still deposited the salon's profits into my account. It was neither reasonable nor ethical for me to shamelessly remain in the company as a pure investor.
After my accident, my good brother, Wang Lingde, took care of everything for me with lightning speed. Through his mediation, he got the insurance company to quickly approve emergency funds, and the insurance money arrived in my account shortly afterward. He even patted his chest and promised to cover all my son's education expenses so he could continue his studies at his original prestigious boarding school.
This young man, twelve years younger than me and the same age as my wife, started working at the hair salon around the same time as her. Although he was just a junior hairstylist, one of my apprentices, he displayed a maturity and ambition beyond his years. I quickly noticed his talent, not just in hair design, but in his profound understanding of everything. For Wang Lingde, this hair salon was too small; in fact, the hairdressing industry was too narrow for him. After several heart-to-heart talks, he finally made up his mind to carve out his own niche.
When we met again, he was no longer the timid, entry-level hairstylist he once was, but a successful fashion designer with his own international brand. From then on, we became close friends despite our age difference, calling each other brothers. Later, he became my best man and my son's godfather. Even when he was frequently abroad, he enthusiastically helped me find suitable partners when I expanded my hair salon.
After my recovery, Wang Lingde invited my wife to work as a sales assistant at his company, hoping she could gradually integrate into the workforce since she lacked experience. Less than two months later, Wang Lingde tactfully told me that my wife's performance had fallen short of his expectations, but he would still keep her on. He would make further plans once she found a more suitable job. I knew perfectly well that with my wife's education, experience, and qualifications, she would struggle to handle sales work, and more importantly, I desperately didn't want her to be exposed to the public eye and engage in social interactions.
However, every family has expenses, and my wife understood that she had to support the family. With my explicit and implicit suggestions, she tried to explore her true interests and abilities. Six months later, unexpectedly, my wife found her own little world online and became an internet celebrity.
As a disabled middle-aged man, I was completely out of touch with the world and unfamiliar with the online ecosystem, so I didn't understand how my wife became an internet celebrity. I only knew that initially, she constantly asked me for advice on hairstyling and hair care, then filmed the tips I taught her and posted them online. Later, a newly imported hair care product company invited my wife to try their products. After the videos were posted online, she initially only had a fixed following. Who knew that two weeks later, overnight, her number of followers exploded, and she began her internet celebrity career.
At that time, I had already adapted to the job Wang Lingde had referred, working as a polisher at a non-profit lens company that advertised employing people with disabilities and rehabilitation. I worked diligently, trying to prove to my family that I wasn't useless despite my disability, and that I didn't need my wife to support the whole family alone.
One morning, I opened my eyes to see my wife looking at her underwear in the mirror. She wore a dark purple bra with a half-cup design, which lifted her already quite full breasts from the bottom up, making her two snow-white mounds hang exaggeratedly in front of her chest. Her panties were the same as the bra cups, with rose patterns embroidered on the inverted triangle fabric in the front, but the back of the panties had a thong design, exposing her round and plump buttocks nakedly.
My wife saw me in the mirror, bent down to pick up the nightgown on her body, and held it in front of her: "You're up?"
I tried to ask, "New? It seems a little..."
Before I could finish speaking, my wife interrupted, "A little too sexy, I'll call the manufacturer to discuss it later."
"You got a lingerie sponsored ad?" I was a little surprised, and I used the headboard to pull myself up and sit on the edge of the bed.
My wife ignored the nightgown in front of her and gently adjusted my posture: "Yes! They're very generous."
My wife leaned forward slightly, and her breasts overflowed from the cups like overflowing milk pudding. Watching her soft, white breasts sway against my wife's chest, I longed to stand up powerfully, pounce on her on the bed, and express my love for her with burning passion.
But I could never stand up again.
I couldn't remember the last time I felt such intense sexual urges, and then I realized it had been over three years since we'd had sex. I felt ashamed; my wife wasn't even thirty-five, and I wondered what kind of life she had endured for me.
That very night, I tried having sex with my wife.
For over a decade, I had been the one in control of our lovemaking. Although I wasn't her first boyfriend, nor her first man, I had brought her to orgasm after orgasm. On that unremarkable night, after more than three years, I asked her to give me oral sex again.
I lay down quietly, and my wife knelt beside me, slowly taking my penis in and out of her mouth. Until my long-dormant penis became erect again, my wife put on a condom, then habitually straddled my legs, preparing to lie on my lap and continue to enjoy my penis. As she stepped over me as usual, her lower body sank, her lower body and feet landing squarely on the empty space where my severed limbs had been.
A cry of anguish shot through me, and my penis instantly went limp.
My wife, oblivious to what was happening, patiently sucked and swallowed my penis, putting the condom back on my erect shaft. Then, at my instruction, she straddled my penis, slowly rocking up and down. She wasn't very strong; many times I wanted to thrust upwards towards her clitoris, but I could only writhe on the bed like a worm. Finally, before she could achieve pleasure, I ejaculated.
After that night, I never again demanded sex from my wife.
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My non-profit lens company has a unique feature: it offers more and more flexible rest periods, intended to allow employees with varying degrees of disability to enjoy work schedules tailored to their individual needs. Colleagues aren't overly enthusiastic or social, afraid of accidentally touching on each other's sore spots. It's common for colleagues to each find their own corner to rest. So I asked my wife for her old tablet and watched short videos and followed American and Korean dramas during breaks.
Although my wife promised not to take on the sponsored content for that bra company, my mind kept wandering to the image of her sexy bra, its two white, plump nipples. One day, on a whim, I clicked on my wife's page, "Xiao Luo – Mature Woman's Hairdressing Diary," during my lunch break to see what products she was selling.
Although our family is financially strapped, at least we don't steal, rob, cheat, or lend money; we rely entirely on my wife's sponsored content—kitchenware, restaurant food, trendy fashion, even short family trips, etc. Seeing my wife's smiling eyes and her full, sexy lips pouting as she promoted different products in front of the camera, I suddenly felt a strange irritation.
Behind me were one after another colleagues, physically and mentally exhausted, trapped in front of machine after machine, unable to escape. My wife was interacting with customers remotely, not only using sweet talk to promote products but also chatting gently with strangers. Looking at the vast sky above her head, an inexplicable sense of irritation welled up within me. I hated it, I hated myself for losing my legs.
Then, my gaze fell on one of my wife's so-called "friendship sharing" posts. I clicked on it casually, and the page redirected to a lingerie brand's page. Although this lingerie brand had several lines, they were all generally sexy. I was quickly drawn to the title of one of the short videos:
"Beautiful Wife Xiao Luo / The Little Secret to Making Husbands Enjoy Themselves / This is How to Choose Lingerie."
"Xiao Luo" is my wife's nickname, but when her nickname is combined with "Beautiful Wife" and then "Enjoy Themselves," it sounds awkwardly like a pornographic advertisement.
The video begins with my wife wearing a tank top, sitting on my sofa, giving an opening speech. As I listened, a pang of heartache shot through me. She never used the bras displayed on the table to please her lame husband, but I didn't blame her for being pretentious. Rather, even if she wore the sexiest bra, I, a cripple, couldn't powerfully pin her down; I could only lie helplessly on the bed like a worm.
After special effects editing, my wife, like a doll changing clothes, transformed her tank top into a black bra with a ding. The seemingly ordinary cups tightly hugged her full breasts, but upon closer inspection, the dense embroidery revealed a cutout design, without any padding, the small holes oozing a soft, white fragrance. With each movement, her full breasts swayed seductively before the camera.
And so it went, bra after bra was changed on my wife, until the seventh one, which I recognized as the dark purple half-cup bra she had tried on one morning. These seven bras were all unique, each more sensual than the last.
By the eighth bra, the screen first displayed the words "Ultimate Move" in large, blood-red letters. Then the camera cut to my wife, her face flushed, covering her chest with a large towel, shyly asking the person behind the camera, "I'm so shy! This one really won't do, can we not record it?"
A deep voice sounded from behind the camera, laughing as he said to my wife, "Don't worry, I don't mind."
My wife leaned close to the camera, whispering, "Hehe... he's pretending to be generous!"
Before I could even process the meaning of this conversation, my wife had already removed the towel in front of the camera, revealing a burgundy half-cup bra. It was also a half-cup bra, but this burgundy bra was far sexier than any of the previous lingerie. The entire cup was made of burgundy semi-transparent tulle, embroidered with an unknown flower. The stem grew from the outside of the breast all the way to the nipple, with the bud resting perfectly on the nipple. My wife didn't actually go completely nude; she wore nipple covers, but the exaggeratedly large ones on her breasts were still very noticeable.
She diligently explained the design details, but my eyes were constantly drawn to her snow-white breasts. I couldn't tell if it was the sunlight outside the window or the lighting behind the camera, but the subtle veins under her skin were clearly visible. Looking closely, I could even faintly see her tiny pores.
While the other young and beautiful models were striking poses, my wife's casual movements seemed more innocent and natural. At the same time, every gesture beneath her cute face exuded a mature and alluring sexiness.
I wanted to jump into the screen, forcefully tear off her bra, and make her submit to me. However, that night, we had a huge fight.
"Didn't you say you wouldn't do that lingerie ad campaign?"
"I didn't. It's an ad, a mock ad campaign."
I didn't understand the online advertising ecosystem and didn't understand my wife's meaning for a moment: "Huh?"
My wife suddenly showed an impatient expression, but it disappeared in an instant: "I was just reading from the script, a pure product introduction, not posted on my own page!"
"So what? Don't talk to me with your jargon, I don't understand it. I only know that you're wearing a bra and letting people see you!" I got agitated.
"Only female customers will go to the internal pages!" My wife, who had been very humble, also raised her voice.
"What about me? I'm not a woman! When you film these videos, it's...it's...it's...it's..." I didn't know if it was because I was in the wrong or because I was nervous, but suddenly my head throbbed and I stammered: "Men will see it!" "
Incomprehensible!" My wife's eyes fell on the TV behind me.
Seeing her cold expression, I couldn't help but yell, "Your last...piece...piece...it was all transparent! Every man could see everything! Tell me...tell me...tell me...wasn't that going too far?"
My wife stood up from the sofa, looking me down at her. I saw tears welling up in her eyes. "I went too far? I went too far? Do you think I wanted this? I need to earn money! I don't want to do it anymore, fine, I'll never do it again! Our family can beg!"
Seeing my wife's tears, I felt a little hesitant. "But it's just nipple covers, too revealing..."
"I'm ashamed too, but I need to earn money to support the family!" My wife clenched her fists and pounded them hard on her thighs.
Seeing her clenched fists trembling, my heart softened. Thinking of how she was forced from a pampered full-time housewife to become the breadwinner, I should blame the drunk driver.
I tried to slowly suppress my anger and stop our argument. Suddenly, that deep male voice hidden behind the camera pierced through my anger, ringing in my mind, reigniting my rage: "Shy? Making money? There's a man behind the camera! I don't mind! He's pretending to be generous! You're naked in front of that man! Let him see your whole breasts! And you're still laughing!"
I saw a tear slide down my wife's left cheek. Before I could even see the change in her eyes, she slapped me hard across the face: "He's the owner of an underwear company!"
Surprise, shame, and anger surged through me at once. I stood up angrily and swung my hand forcefully, but only saw my large hand barely brush past my wife's chest. I realized that I was still sitting obediently in the wheelchair, while my wife stared at my empty hand.
My wife muttered, "You want to hit me?"
Looking at my wife, who seemed so superior, I felt a surge of shame and anger, a strange hatred erupting from the depths of my heart: "You motherfucker! Look...look...look...what are you looking at! Screw the boss! Fuck your mother! The boss can look at your tits! I'll give you money now, you take it out and let me see it right now! Right now! Why aren't you moving? Oh, right! Making money, huh? I, this cripple, didn't stuff money into your tits, did I? Did you even properly catch the boss's money?"
In my rage, I even cupped my chest with my hand and made a lewd gesture of pinching a nipple.
"Slap!" "Slap!" Two crisp slaps landed, one on each side, and my cheeks instantly felt like they were on fire.
When I calmed down, the house was already empty.
I spent what seemed like a long time alone in those four walls. On Friday afternoon, without my knowledge, Wang Lingde picked up my son from school and then the two of them went to the factory to find me, demanding that I apologize to my wife.
I always thought my wife had run back to her parents' home, but it turns out she'd been hiding at Wang Lingde's house
all along. My wife's family are all snobbish. When I was successful, they fawned over me, but after I broke my legs, they immediately looked at me with disdain. I saw it all. Thinking about this, I felt even more ashamed and embarrassed. Even in her anger and grief, my wife still managed to save a shred of face for me.
After bringing my wife home, it took some time before we reconciled. However, this fortress of our home was crumbling little by little, without me even noticing.
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Since my wife came home, every night when she lies beside me, I can't help but ponder the "script" she spoke of, the meaning of those two lines of dialogue.
"I'm not afraid, I don't mind." "Hehe...he's just pretending to be generous!"
I couldn't understand why the lingerie brand owner and my wife designed this dialogue, like a conversation between a married couple. But whenever I thought about it, I started to fear losing my wife, my son, and my family. I tried hard to suppress my unease and doubts.
In the days that followed, my wife's sponsored content became a subtle gap between us.
I didn't dare ask about the content of her sponsored posts, and she stopped bringing it up herself. I could only glean information about her every move from her page.
According to my wife, she officially accepted the lingerie company's sponsored content, openly promoting different types of bras and panties on her page, carefully sharing her experiences with her female fans. Whether it was the clever lighting or my wife's excellent maintenance, "Xiao Luo" in the short videos became increasingly radiant. My wife's clothing became more and more fashionable, and always carried a certain undeniable sexiness that I couldn't shake.
She wasn't tall, but with her meticulous styling, her already straight legs appeared exceptionally long. In the past, she always wore conservative full-cup bras, the thick padding always tightly wrapping around her ample breasts. Now, under the guidance and encouragement of that so-called boss, she began to try on bras without padding, subtly revealing the naturally beautiful shape and firm elasticity of her breasts. My wife didn't wear the deliberately exaggerated low-cut dresses that young girls wear these days, but the carefree swaying of her breasts was a hundred times sexier than blatant exposure.
The more radiant my wife was, the more I felt utterly ashamed in comparison. I felt like a lump of meat, shamelessly clinging to her, my filthy, rotting flesh gradually becoming stinking. On the street, fans who recognized "Beautiful Young Woman Xiao Luo" couldn't hide their astonishment, surprise, disappointment, and pity; they could only try to shift their gaze to my striking and cheerful son. These fans' stares clearly reminded me that I, this cripple, had insulted Xiao Luo's perfect image as a wife. From then on, I gradually chose to stay home on weekends, not wanting to tarnish my wife's sacred aura.
One afternoon after lunch, I saw a comment: "So Xiao Luo and I live in the same building! But I was too shy to say hello. I wanted to say you and your husband are such a perfect match! So happy!"
The comment also showed a considerable number of likes. However, when I checked the page again during another break, the sponsored post had disappeared. Then, at the end of the workday, the post reappeared.
The fan's comment and my wife's sudden action stirred up a thorn in my side.
So, I bought several mini surveillance cameras and hid them in inconspicuous places around the house. Then, I opened the app on my tablet and confirmed that the cameras clearly showed the dining room, living room, and bedroom in the four small squares of the screen.
Finally, Monday arrived. I went to work as usual, but during breaks and lunch, I immediately rushed to a corner of the office to check on the house.
As I waited, I asked myself what I was expecting. Was I expecting my wife to be quietly filming her own sponsored content at home, talking to herself? Or was I hoping to catch her in the act and film her having sex with her lover in my bed?
One day, two days, three days passed, and I began to feel ashamed. Watching my wife's daily routine—filming sponsored content, shipping orders, contacting new manufacturers, cleaning, doing laundry, grocery shopping, and cooking—I couldn't help but ask myself if I had forgotten to be grateful.
Even if my wife had the means to have an affair with another man, divorce me (who's a cripple), and take our son, at least the snobbish women in her family would approve. But all these years, my wife has stayed by my side, taking care of this family impeccably.
A week later, I'd almost forgotten about the surveillance camera. During my lunch break, I opened the player for an American TV show and then casually opened the surveillance camera app.
The dining room and living room were empty, except for the selfie live-streaming equipment set up around the living room and bras and underwear carelessly scattered on the sofa.
However, when I switched the view to the live feed from the bedroom, I felt a sudden, sharp pain in my chest, a lump in my throat, a thousand words stuck in my throat, and a throbbing pain in my heart.
I tried to tell myself my vision was blurry, then, supporting my right hand with my left, I forced myself to click the small square on the screen. The image gracefully popped up from the lower right corner, becoming a large square.
Seeing the enlarged image, my heart tightened, and tears fell drop by drop onto the tablet.
A profound silence fell over the world, as if I had fallen into the depths of a nightmare. No matter how desperately I screamed, the surroundings remained deathly still. It was as if I had returned to the moment the sports car crashed and broke my legs, and then watched the doctors sever my perfectly intact legs, piece by piece. Finally, I was back in the wheelchair, seeing a tablet placed on my severed limbs, playing a video of a burly man pressing tightly against my beloved wife.
My wife's smooth, white legs shamelessly wrapped around the man's waist, her slender fingers tracing random lines on his broad back. The man, with all his limbs intact, knelt on the bed with his undamaged knees, his healthy toes pounding the mattress, thrusting forward again and again.
With each thrust, my wife's elegant and beautiful face contorted in an exaggerated, ecstatic, wanton manner. With another thrust, my wife opened her full lips and moaned loudly in the man's ear, as if telling him of the pleasure within her vagina.
My wife had previously let out seductive moans in my ear, so I knew very well that the woman I loved was enjoying another man's penetration.
On camera, the burly man's measured thrusts skillfully controlled my wife's desire. When he thrust his powerful hips, forcefully pounding my wife's vulva, she would furrow her beautiful brows in apparent pain, close her large, round eyes, bite her full, sensual lips, and reveal a look of wanton lust. When he slowed his thrusts, gently pumping, my wife would gaze at him with a wistful look, passionately extending her tongue for him to suckle.
The two engaged in this passionate yet obscene tongue-twisting act repeatedly. Suddenly, the burly man thrust forward with exaggerated force, shoving my wife forward half a foot, then hoisting her legs, which were wrapped around his waist, onto his shoulders. My wife still retained a sliver of shame, one hand covering her eyes, the other resting on her breast, but this coy posture would only drive any man in the world wild. Sure enough, once the burly man adjusted his kneeling position, he immediately thrust in quickly and powerfully. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh rose and fell, continuous and incessant.
At this moment, I finally saw the burly man's face clearly.
The monitor hidden behind the dressing mirror, bathed in the sunlight streaming through the window, clearly captured the burly man's almost perfect profile. Deep, determined eyes, a straight, prominent nose, thin lips carrying an eternal smile—I recognized the burly man who had pinned my wife down; it was my good brother, Wang Lingde.
Wang Lingde slowly bent over, his hands bracing on the bed, pressing my wife's jade-like legs beneath him. My wife had always said that her muscles weren't flexible enough, and every time I pressed down like this, she would scream in pain, but at this moment, her muscles miraculously became flexible, folding her body like a yoga master. Wang Lingde adjusted his angle, bent over, and thrust hard. His wife let out a wanton, lewd moan. Encouraged by the moan, Wang Lingde thrust harder, and his wife responded with continuous, wanton cries.
I switched to another monitor, hidden in the bedside lamp, which briefly captured his wife's face from above. As Wang Lingde thrust intensely, his wife had already released her hands from her face, unconsciously placing them between her breasts and thighs. I knew this was the prelude to her orgasm.
When I was still healthy, whenever I brought her to orgasm, she would unconsciously grasp her swaying breasts, pinching and rubbing her nipples with her slender fingers, sometimes even pulling them until they were red and swollen.
As if he already knew his wife's little habit, Wang Lingde slowed his thrusting slightly and spread her legs apart. Sure enough, as expected, his wife was passionately pulling and stroking her nipples. Wang Lingde bent over and forcefully sucked on his wife's nipple, which she was pinching between her fingers. Then, as if deliberately showing off to me in the distance for the camera, he gently bit her large nipple and slowly pulled it upwards. The
dark brown nipple was first stretched to its limit, then the areola arched upwards, and finally, Wang Lingde forcibly pulled her breasts. His wife frowned and closed her eyes, crying out in pain, but her hands willingly supported the area below her breasts, waiting for the man's cruel biting.
The man continued to suck and bite from side to side, and his wife's originally brown nipples instantly turned into large, blood-red clitoris. Wang Lingde readjusted his position, positioned his wife's thighs behind her knees, and forcefully pressed them down to the left and right, then gestured for his wife to hold onto her knees.
In front of the camera, Wang Lingde gripped his enormous penis, which looked like a red-hot stick, swaggering towards my wife and me.
My wife, in a voice I'd never heard before—both shy and seductive—said, "Come in quickly, you big bad guy!"
In the video, her legs were still spread wide open, but her hands, which had been resting on the backs of her knees, slid down her inner thighs to her mons pubis. I couldn't believe my eyes; my wife was so shamelessly using her fingers to part her labia majora and minora, exposing her delicate, pink flesh. In the past, my wife had always looked down on this request, saying it was something only prostitutes and porn actresses would do. Now, she was so vulgar, actively exposing her genitals to Wang Lingde.
Forgetting I was in a factory, I blurted out, "No!"
I immediately realized my abruptness and gestured to my other coworkers that I was having a nightmare, as talking in one's sleep is common among people with physical or mental trauma.
When I returned to the tablet screen, Wang Lingde had already inserted his penis into my wife's vagina and was thrusting vigorously.
I watched Wang Lingde thrusting in and out, forcing myself to listen to my wife's moans and cries. After what seemed like an eternity, Wang Lingde pulled his penis out of my wife's vagina and straddled her. He grabbed his still erect penis and shoved it into my wife's mouth.
The camera hidden in the bedside lamp captured my wife's most lewd moment. The upside-down image highlighted my wife's luscious, full red lips, with the man's penis moving back and forth at the entrance of her mouth. Even after the man satisfiedly pulled his penis out of my wife's mouth, pulling out a few drops of vaginal fluid, my wife still lingered, sticking out her tongue to lick the remaining fluid from the corner of her mouth.
Finally, my wife's pretty face inadvertently met the hidden camera, revealing a satisfied smile.
I angrily shut down the program, and without even asking my supervisor for leave, I rushed into the street. I kept pushing the handle next to the tire, aimlessly moving forward. My eyes were filled with tears, and the road ahead seemed endless. It wasn't until the streetlights came on and a kind passerby stopped me, pointing out that my hands were bleeding, that I calmed down.
I stared at the pedestrians on the street, pairs of limbs swaying before my eyes. I couldn't help but lower my head, forcing a bitter smile at my uneven limbs.
My wife's satisfied expression, her sweet smile, kept swirling in my mind. I had to admit that I was no longer able to satisfy the woman I loved. With this crippled body, my wife couldn't find the satisfaction a woman should have.
Even a dwarf can possess a princess, but I was like a winter melon, half-kneeling, half-crawling to the crotch of the woman I loved, forcing her to sit on my penis. What could be more ridiculous, absurd, or pathetic than this kind
of sexual affair? I either choose to endure it, to bear the future of my wife's continued infidelity, or to immediately expose her dirty secret, leaving myself with nothing, losing the woman I love, and losing my only son.
##########################
From the day I discovered my wife's infidelity, I observed her every word and action very carefully. Her dedication to our family remained consistent; she never neglected housework, still taking perfect care of my son and me. Aside from her affair with Wang Lingde behind my back, she was still the wife I deeply loved.
I kept telling myself, constantly educating myself, constantly hypnotizing myself, forcing myself to believe that my wife still loved me, that she was simply compensating for her own lust by having an affair with my good friend Wang Lingde.
To prove my theory correct, I became obsessed. Every time I saw my best friend inserting his penis into my wife's vagina, my heart ached as if my legs had been cut off. Yet, I forced myself to scrutinize every detail of my wife's lovemaking with Wang Lingde, meticulously observing her every expression and physical reaction. I wanted to prove to myself that my beloved wife was only pursuing physical pleasure, and that her heart still belonged to me.
That day, after my wife finished her live stream, Wang Lingde, who had been sitting behind the camera, gave her a thumbs-up, then stood up and spread his hands. My wife, wearing new sexy lingerie, hopped and skipped over the filming equipment from the sofa, leaping into Wang Lingde's arms. Wang Lingde's imposing back completely blocked the two cameras I had hidden in the living and dining room. I could only see my petite wife's legs tightly gripping Wang Lingde's waist, her arms wrapped around his neck. Wang Lingde easily supported my wife's buttocks with his strong arms, relentlessly demanding her passionate kisses.
Wang Lingde picked up his wife like a baby and carried her around the living and dining room. Finally, they stepped over the equipment used for filming the live stream and fell onto the sofa.
The hidden surveillance camera focused squarely on his wife's high, rounded buttocks. The fabric of her new underwear barely covered her mons pubis and anus, exposing the surrounding dark brown flesh nakedly to the air. Wang Lingde's large hands slapped his wife's plump buttocks repeatedly, as if taunting me from afar.
After a long while, Wang Lingde pushed his wife, still lost in a passionate kiss, away, turned her around, and embraced her from behind. His wife, her eyes half-closed and lips slightly parted, sat on Wang Lingde's thick thighs, enjoying the caresses of his large hands.
As Wang Lingde ripped off the nipple covers from under his wife's bra, he casually pulled her hands behind her back. "Baby," he said, "look at the screen. This bra perfectly accentuates the beauty of your areolas. I really want the whole world to see you like this."
I zoomed in on the monitor, carefully examining my wife's bra. It had all the components a bra should have, but the cup size was only a quarter of a normal size, the narrow cups barely enough to support my wife's full breasts from the bottom up. A beautiful lace ribbon hung horizontally across the front of the bra, the width of the lace perfectly encompassing my wife's large areolas. The elegant patterns on the lace adorned my wife's nipples, and at first glance, my wife's dark brown nipples and areolas instantly became part of the pattern, resembling a blooming flower.
Wang Lingde's left thumb and forefinger swept and pinched, teasing the excited, erect nipples through the lace, and he sighed, "It's your beautiful nipples and areolas that have inspired me. I'll name this bra after you; I want every man in the world to call out your name before making love."
His wife stared at the computer screen on the coffee table, listening to Wang Lingde's whispered praises while enjoying the man's continuous teasing of her nipples. Gradually, his wife began to breathe heavily, and her expression became increasingly dazed.
Seeing this, Wang Lingde pushed the coffee table forward, then made his wife lean over, her arms on the table, bringing her face close to her mons pubis. The monitor hidden behind the TV cabinet captured his wife's face almost horizontally; her eyes were half-open, her nostrils contracted and expanded in a specific rhythm, and her slightly turned-out lips shone with a fiery red sheen. I recognized that expression on my wife's face. Every time I caressed her labia and clitoris, she would look so eager, and then she would unconsciously wiggle her hips, cooperating with my caresses in a seductive way.
I switched the camera to the surveillance camera in the distance of the dining room, and I could only see Wang Lingde greedily savoring my wife's vulva. Sure enough, my wife kept twisting her plump buttocks up and down and side to side, enjoying Wang Lingde's onslaught of hands and mouth. At the same time, Wang Lingde's thick legs gradually spread apart my wife's jade-like legs that were supporting her on the floor, until her legs were spread to their limit. Only then did he slowly admire my wife's exposed vulva as he pulled down his pants.
He adjusted his position, accommodating my wife who was much shorter with her legs spread, and thrust his rather erect penis, which looked quite tall even from a distance, into my wife's vagina.
My wife sometimes lowered her head and moaned softly, and sometimes raised her head and shouted loudly. She used her wanton moans to announce that she was enjoying the man's fierce thrusting. Her usual virtuous image vanished without a trace; the woman in the video was utterly wanton and wild.
A pair of lovelorn lovers, one in a shirt, the other in a sexy bra, maintained a bestial position, relentlessly reaching climax.
I turned off the monitor app before seeing the end. I knew that whenever my wife was in her safe period, Wang Lingde would also strip naked, inserting his thick, smooth penis directly into her vagina, finally watching with satisfaction as streams of semen flowed back from her uterus.
The woman I once knew so well had gradually become a stranger. I looked at my wife's pretty face, but I couldn't recall us embracing. Last night, my wife was on the sofa watching a boring variety show with me; now, on the same sofa, she was spread-eagled, joyfully receiving another man's thick semen.
I wiped away the tears from the corners of my eyes with my thumb.
I told myself that I, this incomplete man, couldn't satisfy my wife, but I couldn't expect her to remain a widow for me for the rest of her life.
I told myself that as long as there was no real affection between them, I could endure it, I could endure it forever.
I told myself that even if we divorced one day, as long as my son stayed with me, that would be enough.
I touched my two limbs, one longer than the other, and could only silently scream in my heart. Only by remaining silent could I protect my only home.
In this way, I slowly accepted my wife's carnal relationship with Wang Lingde.
I had seriously considered that if I had to find a man in the world to comfort my wife, perhaps I would still choose Wang Lingde.
My former good brother, with his handsome appearance and extraordinary achievements, had mentioned to me many times before that accident that he had always liked pure and innocent women and hoped to find a virtuous wife like my wife in the future.
For a fleeting moment, I sincerely hoped that Wang Lingde would not only treat her as a pure sexual partner, but also genuinely love and protect her.
Perhaps, I wasn't as bothered as I had imagined about sharing the woman I deeply loved with Wang Lingde.
That night, my wife willingly swallowed my penis, then, in a woman-on-top position, let me insert my shaft into her long-missed vagina. I tried to recall how long it had been since we'd had sex. As I thought about it, my wife reached up and cupped her violently shaking breasts, unconsciously squeezing and playing with her large nipples 　　, letting out obscene moans:
" Ohhhhhh! I 　　'm coming! Deh ... 　　One 　　afternoon, my wife and Wang Lingde, this man and woman consumed by lust, were once again having sex in the middle of my bed. Wang Lingde, strong and powerful, lifted my wife, who clung tightly to his thick neck. 　　They assumed various positions on my bed that I was powerless to perform, each violent thrust seeming to mock my inadequacy. 　　"Ahhh~~~ Yaho~~~ Ya~~~ Don't stop~~~ So strong!! Ya ya ya~~~" My wife arched her plump buttocks, her hands behind her back, parting her vulva, actively welcoming Wang Lingde's thrusts. 　　Wang Lingde gripped my wife's buttocks, straightened his back, and thrust repeatedly, finally withdrawing his semi-erect penis after a long while. 　　Kneeling on the bed, my wife, still unsatisfied, slowly moved her body next to Wang Lingde's penis, her high-raised buttocks and vulva completely exposed to the monitor camera. In the video, the wife's labia are covered in a mixture of semen and vaginal fluid, the white, cloudy juices seeping out from between her labia as she moves. 　　The other camera clearly captures her licking Wang Lingde's glans with her tongue, cleaning away the remaining semen. Then, she takes Wang Lingde's limp penis into her mouth, using familiar oral techniques to revive it. 　　Facing Wang Lingde's large penis, she fondles and manipulates it with obvious pleasure, then once again opens her red lips and swallows the thick shaft without restraint. She holds half of the shaft in one hand while skillfully teasing the large glans with her oral skills. 　　"Chirp~~ Hiss~~" "Ooh~~ Glug~" "Chirp~~ Hiss hiss~~" "Ooh~~ Glug glug glug~~ Hiss~~" 　　The obscene sucking sounds, along with the sound of saliva churning in his throat, all rose and fell in my ears. 　　My wife was using the same oral technique, completely absorbed in swallowing and spitting out Wang Lingde's penis. Finally, she sucked hard in a moment of ecstasy, her pretty cheeks hollowing inward. At the same time, Wang Lingde let out a gasp, and a sharp slurping sound of saliva hit my eardrums through the headphones. 　　The piercing sound screamed in my brain, and my head felt like it was being hammered again, with inexplicable pain. I closed my eyes, regulated my breathing, and pressed and rubbed my wildly beating heart, which felt like it was about to explode. 　　When I calmed down and slowly opened my eyes, looking at the tablet screen again, Wang Lingde was already fucking my wife in a position that only male actors in pornographic films use. 　　My wife was upside down, head to toe, with two pillows supporting her neck and shoulders. Her back was pressed against the headboard, and her hands were on the bed. Her breasts hung down, and the camera clearly captured countless bright red finger marks beneath them. 　　Wang Lingde straddled my wife's mons pubis, his hands gripping her calves tightly. The four legs of the man and woman were intertwined in a bizarre, indescribable position. Wang Lingde thrust into my wife's vagina like a pile driver, each thrust eliciting cries of pain mixed with pleasure from her: "Ah!" "Ah!" "Ah!" "Ah-woo!" "Woo-oh!" "Oh-ah!" "Ah!" Suddenly, Wang 　　Lingde released his hands, and my wife's legs naturally drooped down. Wang Lingde then parted her labia with one hand and gripped the base of his penis with the other, as if milking a cow, seemingly trying to fill my wife's uterus with all his semen. 　　Wang Lingde slowly withdrew his penis. The moment the glans left the vagina, the shaft sprang upwards, spraying out a stream of vaginal fluid. He gently supported his wife, maintaining the inverted position: "Ah~ Ah~ Xiao Luo~~ Ah~~ Ah~~~ Ah~~~ You little slut, was it good? Did my cock touch the baby in your belly? Tell me, whose child is it? Is it really Jun-ge's? That's unlikely. Heh! I know! I know! It's that fat shampoo seller, right?" 　　His wife uttered barely audible sounds: "..." 　　I could no longer hear the words from his wife's mouth; her gentle voice transformed into a sharp scream echoing in my ears. A surge of anger, helplessness, and pain, carried by the scream, coursed through my veins. Uncontrolled emotions raced through my limbs, then coalesced into a hot current that rushed into my brain. 　　My vision went black, and I fainted in the toilet. I do 　　n't 　　know where I am. All I see is a white light and faint human voices around me. 　　My heart was filled with anger, doubt, disgust, and confusion, but I couldn't pinpoint the source of these emotions. All I knew was that a familiar, slightly effeminate yet razor-sharp male voice rang out from the ethereal sounds: "Turn around! We haven't tried making love on the shampoo bed yet! Have you tried it with the boss? Hehe!" 　　I heard a shy, young girl's voice reply: "You bad boy!" 　　"You're worse than me! I haven't even finished speaking, and you're already kneeling down waiting for me, hee!" The sharp voice suddenly became playful: "The boss doesn't know you like men to lick you here, here, here, right?" 　　The girl's delicate voice gradually became clearer: "Mmm...mmm...don't do that...mmm...uh...uh...not here...oh! Wait! There's someone outside!" 　　The surrounding white light suddenly vanished, and in the pure darkness, several piercing sounds abruptly arose. 　　"Jun, how could you be so careless, you're an adult! We only have one daughter! Sigh!" "Old man, what are you sighing about! Get to the point!" "Jun, well... you'll take responsibility, right?" "Old man, stop beating around the bush! Let me tell you! Jun, now that Luo is pregnant with your child, you two should have a wedding right away. Our family is very casual about the dowry, just six eights, it's a good omen!" "Daughter, what did you say? A wedding after the baby is born? You're really messing around!" "Jun, let me, your mother-in-law, tell you, you need to take good care of yourself during your first pregnancy, so you can have more children later. I'll use all your dowry money to buy supplements for Luo..."

In the pitch-black center, a glimmer of white light appeared, bursting forth instantly, and I was once again enveloped in whiteness.
Boom! Bang!
A piercing wailing sound echoed through the void, followed by barely audible whispers.
"Doesn't this married woman, Xiao Luo, look like Ah Jun's wife?" "Yes, yes, yes!" "I don't think so. His wife came up several times, but her breasts weren't this big!" "You don't know anything, that's called hidden breasts." "Right, right, right!" "Wearing a swimsuit to sell shampoo in an ad is a real selling point… Look at this one! This one's even more amazing, wearing a bikini, such huge breasts!" "Big, big, big!" "Shh! Keep your voice down, Ah Jun's coming~~"
The white light vanished again, and darkness returned. From the other end of the darkness came a male voice: "Wife, I want to make love to you."
"I'm a little tired." The female voice sounded familiar and gentle.
"I want it!" The male voice sounded a little impatient.
"Okay, okay...do you want me to use my mouth first?"
"Okay. And I don't want to use a condom."
"Huh? This...you've always liked using them all these years..."
"I've never liked using them! I've never wanted to use them!"
"Okay, don't be angry, if you don't want to, you don't have to. I'll go turn off the light."
"Hehe...wife, hehe...let's have a baby!"
"Mmm...okay...okay...oh..."
"Wife, you have to have a baby for me."
Light and darkness alternated, voices rose and fell, but I just couldn't remember who these people were? Who was that little Luo Ajun? And who was I?
Finally, all was quiet.
###########################
I don't know how many years or months passed, but a white light shone from the silent darkness, followed by a gentle female voice: "Husband, look, this is our daughter... your daughter. I haven't renamed her yet, wake up and rename her, okay?"
"..."
"Daddy, can you see me? Open your eyes! Daddy!"
"..."
In my hazy state, I saw a beautiful woman and a striking little boy standing beside me, looking at me with joy.
The beautiful woman brought the tiny baby in her arms to me, and I looked into the baby's cashew-nut-like eyes, who smiled sweetly at me.
【The End】

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