My Wife is a Live Streamer (01-02) Author: Afafa

Author: Afafa
Word Count: 6465

(1)

Let me introduce myself first. My name is Liu Tianxing. I work in W City in the IT industry. As you might guess
, I am a programmer.

The most miserable thing for programmers is often related to marriage. Unlike other programmers in the company,
I have an enviable happy family.

My wife, Lingling, is two years younger than me. She is twenty-four years old this year. We have been married for more than a year. Lingling and I
graduated major in English. She is 168 cm tall and has very fair skin. As for her appearance, let me put it this way:
when she was in college, she did not ask her family for living expenses. She worked as a model outside. You can imagine that
.

When I was in college, I went through many hardships to stand out from many suitors. On Valentine's Day night
in I never expected that I would be her first man.

After graduation, I got a job at a well-known IT company. Once my salary stabilized, we got married. Lingling was
a fashionable girl raised under traditional education—traditional by her parents, fashionable after she went to university.
After all, we live in a provincial capital. Our married life was uneventful; our sex life, while
not particularly exciting, I believed I always managed to bring her pleasure.

I thought this blissful, uneventful life would continue, but I was wrong.

About three months ago, I got a promotion and a raise, married a beautiful and wealthy woman, and was about to reach the pinnacle of my life
. That very night, I suggested that Lingling quit her job as an English teacher and become a full-time housewife so we could have a baby.

Lingling thought about it for a while and then agreed. After all, being an English teacher was tiring and demanding, and her salary was less than
a quarter of mine, barely enough for her spending money.

That night, we were passionate for a long time, until after 2 a.m. the next morning when I finally
fell asleep, one arm around Lingling's waist, the other touching her C-cup breasts.

The first month after quitting my job felt uneventful, except Lingling was asking for food more often and
dinners were a bit more lavish every night. Of course, I was happy to accept this change.

At the dinner table that day,

Lingling said, "Honey, I want to become a live streamer."

"Huh? Why? Aren't you having a lot of fun at home? And what can you even stream?" "

I'm just so bored at home every day, that's why I want to do it. I can play games, watch movies
, and stuff like that. It doesn't require much skill, and I can earn some pocket money.

Please?" "

No way! You think I haven't seen it? Those female streamers are all selling their bodies, doing things like ball games and selling their legs
. We're not short of money, why do you want to expose yourself?" "

Honey, I promise I won't show my chest or legs to them. Just think of me as someone to chat with online. I'm really bored
at home .

" "Okay, okay, you have to promise. Also, you can't disrupt our normal life, and you can't get too involved."

"If you promise, I'll let you go." "

Of course, of course, I promise."

Lingling shook my hand, promising.

I really couldn't do anything with her.

I thought, "Let her go, she's just playing around, she'll get tired of it soon.

" That's what I thought at the time, little did I know, Lingling was starting my nightmare.

For the first few weeks of Lingling becoming a streamer, I often watched her streams. There weren't many people in the room, and she really did stream movies as she said. In her words, "It's all just watching movies anyway, we can chat
while watching , isn't that great?" I noticed she didn't have her camera on and didn't do anything out of line, so I didn't interfere much. I just thought it was her childish behavior, that she could stream if she wanted, it wouldn't be a big deal. After about a month, I suddenly noticed that Lingling was also using her phone and chatting on QQ at night before bed. I felt something was wrong. Before, she only discussed where to go, where to go shopping, where to eat, , or they would discuss TV dramas or trending topics on Weibo. At night, when I said it was time to sleep, she would obediently put her phone aside and go to bed. But for the past few days, she'd been chatting and chatting. I had to remind her many times before she would finally go to bed. Lingling, what are you talking about on your phone? What's there to talk about? Ah, nothing, Qianqian and I are discussing tomorrow's movie. Can't we discuss it tomorrow? Time to sleep. Ah, almost done, just a little while. Go to sleep, I've been coding for so long today, I'm exhausted. Okay, okay. One or two days like this is fine, but after a week, every night like this... I had a bad feeling about the online streamer. The next day, I went to work as usual. Lingling usually sleeps in late, getting up around 10 am, then starts her livestream after lunch around 12 pm, continuing until 7 pm when I get home. I quickly finished my lunch, took out my iPad, and opened her livestream. She hadn't started streaming yet, and there were only a few viewers online; she was probably offline. My heart skipped a beat, a chill ran down my spine. What does "Beautiful Legs Ling" mean? Has he seen my wife's legs? Who is this? How does he know my wife's name is Lingling? I resisted the urge to continue watching. The chat was flooded with comments like, "You've been waiting impatiently, haven't you? It's your fault for keeping me up all night yesterday; I didn't fall asleep until 2 AM." I checked the gifts and such, but there weren't any suspicious IDs. Was I just being paranoid? I asked myself as I prepared to go to work. Just then, she started her livestream. It showed her computer desktop and QQ login page. I noticed a new group on Lingling 's QQ called "Livestream," with only six people in it. Then a comment appeared in the chat: "Finally, you're livestreaming! I've been waiting forever, beautiful-legged Lingling!" After seeing it, I felt a pang of bitterness. It seemed my wife had been chatting with him on QQ the whole time. And we clearly went to sleep at 11:30 last night; it seemed my wife woke up after I fell asleep and secretly chatted with him. At that moment, I felt me, wanting to rush home and confront Lingling. But then I thought , what could I prove now? At most, it would only prove that Lingling was chatting with other people and sending photos. Lingling just likes to have fun and make friends online. Besides, maybe the person she was chatting with was even a girl. I comforted myself with this thought. That night, I pretended to be normal, but I was extra careful while sleeping, breathing unevenly.

Hearing my breathing, Lingling, knowing I was asleep as usual, gently moved my
arm from her waist and turned her back to me, a beam of light shining through.

My heart ached. I tried to comfort myself, telling myself Lingling was just chatting with someone, that she still loved me.

About an hour later, around 1:30, Lingling put down her phone and went to sleep. I
waited a long time until she was almost asleep. I quietly got up and went to the other side of the bed, careful not to wake her.
I gently picked up my phone and unplugged the charger. Feeling like a thief in my own bedroom, I really didn't know
what I was thinking. When I turned on my phone, I was completely lost.

I knew Lingling's phone password, but it didn't work. I tried several possible passwords,
none of them matched. My heart ached more and more; I knew something was wrong, otherwise, the innocent Lingling wouldn't have changed her password.

Then it suddenly occurred to me: her phone could record fingerprints; I had registered mine when it was new
.

I washed my hands, dried them with a tissue, and put my index finger on the screen, hoping it hadn't been erased.

Click! I entered that familiar screen. I quickly went into QQ to check my recent contacts, but
found nothing unusual. I then opened the live stream page; the names were all strange. I clicked on them one by one, and
found that the first five were likely live stream channel administrators or something similar, with Lingling discussing live stream matters with them—
nothing suspicious. I opened the last name, "Can't Forget Yesterday's You," and even stranger, I
found no records. I knew Lingling must have deleted those records. Although I already knew something was wrong,
I couldn't see the records and couldn't think of any other clues. Helpless, I had to restore her QQ to
the interface I had just entered.

I held her phone, unsure what to do. Just as I was feeling lost, a text message arrived, startling me.
The notification sound was quite loud; thankfully, Lingling hadn't woken up. I looked closely and saw it was a China Mobile message. I chuckled to myself
, then remembered I hadn't checked the message.

I opened the message, and the second one shocked me.

I have no signal in the mountains, can you take a picture to comfort me?

Ugh, I'm in bed, what are you taking pictures of? Take a picture of your head!

Lingling has never texted me like this before.

It's only good when you're in bed, otherwise it's not interesting. I like to see legs.

Below is a photo of Lingling lying on the bed with her legs together and spread to one side, in that model pose,
just at the wrong angle. Her long, white legs take up two-thirds of the picture, and pink underwear takes
up the rest. Lingling's modeling experience taught her that this pose is very seductive to men.
The alluring gap between her legs, her fair legs, and the pink underwear complement each other perfectly.

If I didn't know that the underwear belonged to Lingling, I would have thought it was some third-rate female celebrity deliberately
releasing it to attract attention. I suppressed my sourness and continued looking.

Great picture, are you deliberately posing to seduce me? I'll eat you when I get back.

I almost spit it out, damn it.

Get lost, you don't need to seduce me, you'll come on your own.

Still won't admit it? Just wait until she apologizes.

Hmph, I'll wait.

That's where it ends. Usually, it's because they switched QQ accounts after he got a signal, or some other reason.
But I've confirmed my wife is cheating on me; she's probably already been slept with. The text
message from a local number. I can't find anything out right now. Although I've read a lot of
stories about cuckoldry, seeing this happen to me is a mixed bag of emotions; I don't know what to do. A text message
completely shattered my thoughts.

Preview: Remember tomorrow afternoon, just in case you forget, you little slut.

Same number.

My mind is a mess. I put my phone back where it was, lay on the bed, and fell into deep thought.

(2)

The next morning, after breakfast I hurriedly went out. Lingling was still sleeping soundly in bed. Her fair
and legs were exposed, and her tender face looked like it could be pinched to release water. The blanket on her body only covered her belly
and the base of her tempting thighs. If it were normal, I would have been excited and couldn't help but pull Lingling up for a morning exercise
before going to work. But at this time, I had no such thoughts. The text message made me realize that the tempting
body my wife, who is comparable to a second-tier female star
, was moaning under the crotch of a man I had never seen before. Maybe she was even injected with that man's semen. Maybe one
night my wife was wet because she had been lubricated before. Just think about it, maybe my semen and a stranger
's semen invaded my goddess from bottom to top.

Thinking about all this, my brain felt a rush of blood, and even my cheeks started to flush. Besides
bitterness . I began to recall the lewd and stimulating
scenes in the AVs I'd watched before, the faces of the female protagonists slowly blurring and mixing with Lingling's pure face; I couldn't even tell who was who
.

I quickly left the house, called my boss to ask for sick leave, and went to a company in the city
that was quite well-known in a small circle. It was well-known because my boss had introduced me to it. Speaking of which, let me
introduce my boss. He shares my surname and has worked hard in this city for over ten years to build this company. He's always
been very kind and appreciative of me, and of course, I'm very grateful to him. Once, at a company celebration party, he casually mentioned
this saying it was very professional, knew how to protect client privacy, and was efficient.

At the time, I didn't know much about it and didn't think much about why my boss knew. Now, facing my situation, I gave a
bitter smile .

This private investigation company was hidden in a residential area; the entire company consisted of only the boss
.

I knocked on the door and went inside.

Inside was a refined-looking middle-aged man, wearing black-rimmed glasses, slender, and about 1.7 meters tall.
He was the kind of person who would disappear into a crowd and be completely lost—one of the reasons he had
never .

"Hello, I'm the one who called you before."

"Ah, hello, hello, is this Mr. Liu? I'm Zhang Zejun. Could you briefly describe your investigation target and
the general situation?" "Sure, the situation is roughly like this..." I briefly explained my situation.
When I introduced my wife, Lingling, I noticed his expression was a little off.

"Excuse me, is something wrong? You don't look too good." "

No, no, I'm just thinking it's
unbelievable .

" "Yes, I'm heartbroken too. Let's talk about what to do."

After discussing for a while, the general strategy was for him to start watching and tracking the person who came to my house this
afternoon , as well as Lingling. He would also install hidden cameras in various corners of my house to investigate QQ messages
and other tools, and pretend to be an audience member watching my wife's live stream.

By the time the discussion ended, it was almost noon. He suggested that I find an excuse to take my wife
out for lunch so he could sneak into my house and install cameras. I naturally agreed, since that way I could see the adulterer's face
sooner .

I called Lingling, made up a reason, and got her to come out. Of course, before she came out, she
subtly confirmed that I had to go to work that afternoon, to facilitate her plans.

When I saw Lingling, she was wearing makeup—a red dress, black high heels, and only
a light touch of makeup, which made her skin appear even whiter. For some reason, I felt her every move
exuded a seductive, lewd charm. If we were at home, I would have taken her on the spot, but
now I felt a strange thrill. During dinner, after confirming that Zhang Zejun had set up
the cameras I made an excuse about needing to go back to work, paid the bill, and prepared to leave.

A fleeting look of joy crossed Lingling's face; though brief, I caught it. Perhaps it was feigned, perhaps
genuine. After seeing me off at the station, she left.

I didn't have time to think much of it and hurried back to Zhang Zejun's place. He had a small, separate room where the video resources were temporarily stored since I
couldn't go home.

He quickly closed the door and left, explaining he had to get something else done. I understood he was trying to avoid
seeing those private images and told him I would call him when I left.

Meanwhile, my gaze was glued to the screen. Lingling had just arrived home and lay down on the bed without
changing her clothes . She tossed and turned, constantly texting on her phone, presumably
waiting for or urging the man to arrive.

Thinking about this, I felt a chill, yet also a strange anticipation for the man's arrival.

However, I was wrong. At two o'clock, Lingling suddenly got up, turned on her computer, fiddled with it (seemingly
logging into QQ), adjusted the camera angle, pointing it at the bed. Before I could figure out
why , she went out, put on high heels, and got back into bed.

Was the man not coming, and Lingling was going to masturbate in front of him?! At this moment, Lingling was still dressed in
the same outfit I had seen her in at noon—the same outfit that had ignited my lust.

She kneaded her breasts with both hands. Even through the camera, her full, round breasts were clearly
visible Her delicate hands moved them in various shapes, kneading and shaping them to create cleavage
, then she began pinching her nipples. Her face changed expressions with each movement, flushed and
burning , her desire insatiable.

The man on the other end of the camera seemed unsatisfied. Lingling glanced at the screen, then reached down to
her crotch, teasingly flicking her tongue at the camera. She lifted her dress from her thighs to her waist, her slender waist swaying
rhythmically, her hand rhythmically kneading her vagina. After a few minutes, whether it was her desire
or the man's command, she slowly pulled down her panties. Can you imagine? A seemingly innocent
woman in a red dress, one hand kneading her breast, the other stroking and rubbing her vagina.

Her cheeks were flushed, her waist twisting like a snake, the red dress making her snow-white thighs even more alluring.

The man on the other end of the camera seemed unsatisfied. Lingling slowly
rubbed her index and middle fingers against her vaginal opening before slowly inserting them.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on her delicate, smooth cheeks, her red lips parted slightly, and moans echoed in the bedroom.
I, watching the camera, remained silent. Lingling's hands moved faster and faster, her
two deeper and deeper. A scene kept flashing through my mind: a man on
top of my wife, Lingling, his 18cm penis deeply inserted into her. Lingling was already lost in passion, her hands
tightly wrapped around the man's back, her legs clamped around his waist as if trying to swallow him whole. The man
thrust deeper and harder with each stroke, their union filled with overflowing white foam.
The dark-skinned man and the snow-white Lingling were on the bed in the most traditional position, doing the most primal thing—
a stark contrast. The man seemed unsatisfied, grabbing Lingling's ankles and lifting her up...
He thrust deeper
into her shoulder , Lingling's labia swollen with blood and excitement, like blooming flowers, the white foam representing her satisfaction and ecstasy, like flowing nectar. The man thrust again and again without pause.
Lingling seemed conquered by the man, her hands kneading and pulling her breasts forcefully, her cheeks flushed, her
mouth murmuring, seemingly in submission to the man. The man seemed satisfied, each
thrust harder than the last, the final thrust pushing deeply forward, as if trying to pierce my wife Lingling's body. Her large testicles
contracted repeatedly, and I knew that hot liquid was being released inside my wife Lingling's body, billions of sperm
swirling around in her vagina, or perhaps her uterus. After ejaculating, the man held on to my wife
Lingling , seemingly savoring the moment, or perhaps with ulterior motives.

The beautiful woman before me had become a lump of soft flesh that could be kneaded at will under his whip.

Lingling's eyes were half-closed, seemingly savoring the moment, perhaps even reminiscing. She wrapped her arms around the man, resting her head against
his chest, like a shy newlywed bride. But the muddy mess beneath her reminded her that her juices were mixed with semen
; some had flowed out, while the rest remained in this beautiful woman's womb, continuing
the task of conquering her.

When I returned to the screen from my mind, Lingling had just finished her climax. After a quick clean-up, she
typed furiously at the computer. After a while, seemingly tired, she turned off the computer and lay down on the bed.
Seeing nothing more interesting, I turned back and knocked on the door to let Zhang Zejun in. "

Finished reading?" "Yes, that man didn't come. My wife did something."

"Hmm," Zhang Zejun said with a knowing look. "

I'm almost done figuring out your wife's QQ password, and I've spent some time getting
her

to have followers on the live stream. If all goes well, you'll see the deleted messages from your wife at home tonight. I'm teaching you some basic usage and modifying the computer a bit; you'll see what you've learned when you get home tonight." "

Okay, okay, well done.

It's my job. Do you have any other requests?" "Ah, no, no.

Thank you for today."

I picked up my backpack and slowly walked out. The setting sun was like blood, and thinking of Lingling's red dress from earlier that day, I smiled bitterly
as I walked home.

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