Other people's wives have a unique charm.

She was a very reserved woman, and I'd wanted to sleep with her for a long time, but I never had the chance because she was

someone else 's wife.

The opportunity finally came, probably because I'm good at understanding women's inner worlds. We were already

good friends ; she was very depressed after her divorce and kept coming to me for advice. During several casual conversations, I inadvertently discovered

that she had harbored feelings for me for a long time, and more importantly, I sensed from her every move

that she was getting restless.

That night finally arrived. We went to a karaoke bar, ordered a lot of drinks, and planned to have a

blast and forget about her sadness. I still remember the moment she appeared before me that night. Slightly chestnut-colored

hair, a white lace-trimmed blouse that clearly showed the white bra straps and the

perfect outline of her bra, a knee-length denim skirt, flesh-colored stockings, and a pair of long, alluring legs, white

stiletto sandals—every toe seemed capable of igniting a vast, surging passion.

We sang, drank, laughed, and had a wonderful time. Looking back now, it was probably

the strange effect of alcohol that led to our substantial progress. She sat at the karaoke machine, singing and choosing songs, while I greedily

admired her sexy white bra straps from behind. Suddenly, I wrapped my arms around her from behind, each finger landing firmly

on her firm breasts. She showed no sign of resistance; her happy smile and melodious singing proved

my earlier judgment and her inner desire.

My hands roamed tirelessly over her bra, the sexy lace cups stimulating each other. At that moment,

I was incredibly excited, and I moved my hands to her flesh-colored stockings, enjoying the inch-by-inch pleasure of her sexy long legs. She

suddenly turned to me and said, "Tonight, be my husband." I smiled and nodded, and we raised our glasses together,

drinking it all in one gulp. Afterward, she was drunk, and I was intoxicated.

We familiarly arrived at the hotel where she and her husband often stayed when they were dating. I can't remember how we

got into the room, only that she slowly spread her legs. I kissed her like a madman, and she responded almost frantically

, constantly calling me "husband."

Perhaps because I'd been wanting to know how much she was wet, I went straight to the point, spreading her legs

wider. Through her stockings, I could see her pink lace panties were already wet. I licked her

vulva ; the crotch of her stockings was so wet it changed color. I tore open her stockings, lifted the crotch of her panties,

and kissed her labia hard. She was trembling with pleasure; she was so wet, the lace trim of her panties

was soaked.

I told her I wanted to see her touch her breasts, and without hesitation, she lifted her shirt and vigorously rubbed her

bra-covered breasts, her moans growing louder. Any man would find this irresistible. I pulled her panties to one side

with force , aimed at her slightly darkened vulva

, and thrust my engorged penis inside, deep and forcefully. I watched her stop rubbing her breasts and her mouth stop moaning, feeling her trembling

body. I knew she had climaxed.

She cried out "Husband, husband!" desperately. I couldn't tell who she was calling for anymore; I just thrust in and out with all my might. I don't

know how long it lasted, but my hot semen shot into her uterus. Her body was arched, completely out of

control, screaming. I had finally had her. Afterward, she had a new life, a new partner. But

there was always a secret between us. On certain nights, in a certain warm bed, I could still clearly hear

her calling "Husband, husband."

[The End]

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Other people's wives have a unique charm.

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