My wife and that old man

My Wife and That Older Man

I first met him at a staff party, and everyone was abuzz when he appeared. He was

a billionaire, a movie mogul, and we were the

owners of a small newspaper he owned in Chicago, where he was the largest shareholder.

Now he was standing right in front of us, these humble urban white-collar workers.

He spent most of the evening chatting with my wife. My wife was different from the

models , and unlike the supermodel he married.

She was (always) a beautiful woman, but it was her personality and intelligence that set her apart from ordinary women.

"What did he talk to you about last night?" I asked her the next evening, as we finally had

time to sit down and chat.

“Lots of things. Honey, he’s a really nice guy, very charming.”

“Did he talk about the future of this newspaper?”

“Not much, but he asked me a lot of questions.”

“What questions?”

“Mostly about the staff, but he was really interesting.”

“You already mentioned it.”

“I told him your ideas for increasing circulation, and I guess he liked them.”

We talked about him until the doorbell rang. I opened the door and found him standing outside our door,

our boss, a billionaire entrepreneur,

standing alone outside the door of us humble beings!

He held out his hand. “You’re Rick?”

“Uh, yes,” I answered awkwardly.

I shook his hand and went inside. The big shot looked around our little house,

his gaze landing most on my wife, Joyce, who was frantically

tidying something.

“I’d like to talk to you alone. Would you mind if I sat down?” he said.

"It's alright, please...please sit down!" I stammered, still unable to believe he was right in front of me.

"Would you like something to drink, wine or a soft drink?

"

"A drink," he replied as he sat down on the sofa. "Sit down, darling." He patted the cushion

beside him and gestured to my wife. "

I really enjoyed our conversation last night."

I poured everyone a glass of wine, feeling utterly bewildered, fearful, and helpless.

"I originally came here to tell everyone that I'm closing this newspaper," the big shot said, placing a hand

on my wife's shoulder. She stared blankly into the distance

, her large, round eyes looking innocent.

“I think you all know how badly we’ve been losing money lately, but I spoke with Joyce for a while about

everyone involved, and you’ve all been very kind. So

, I thought, what’s the point of my power and wealth if I can’t occasionally give people a second chance?”

I tried to say something, but I was just an editor and not good at conversation. “But sir, I’m just a

junior editor, why are you here with me?”

His strong hand gripped my wife’s bare shoulder; she was only wearing a camisole. She

looked at me in surprise, as if trying to find some answer from me

, but I didn’t know anything either.

"Because of your wife, Rick. I was deeply moved by her; a female PhD in mathematics is truly an extraordinary

achievement. She mentioned your abilities and ideas to me. I

love promoting new talent and giving humble people a chance to change their circumstances. Perhaps you can

revive , or perhaps you can keep these positions and

provide food for those families who depend on them. The position you're given is also well-paid, so Joyce can stay

home and focus on her mathematical theorems. What do you think

?"

My throat was dry, and my mind was a mess. Was this a joke? "Yes, I think it's

great !"

"Very good. I like to do something meaningful from time to time, but sometimes I do something bad too.

Sometimes , I do both good and bad things."

After saying this, he moved his hand to the back of Joyce's head, turning her face to face him. His other hand

encircled her neck, and after examining

her closely, he leaned in and kissed my wife's red lips. Her eyes widened, but she didn't resist, letting him kiss

her. How could she do this!

I stared helplessly at the two of them. What should I do? Hundreds of jobs, our newspaper, my future,

or my dear wife? He was countless times richer than me

, and we knew that. A million dollars was just a drop in the bucket in his pocket, and the newspaper I worked for

was nothing to him.

"Now I'll tell you what to do," he said, stopping his kiss with Joyce and placing his hand on her back.

"We'll sign an agreement; you have to stay with me for a few weeks

. I've revived your newspaper, so it's only right that you spend some time with me, isn't it?"

He placed his hand on my wife's snow-white shoulder and pulled down the straps of her blouse. Before I even realized it, he had already

pulled down my wife's skirt; her snow-white breasts

stood proudly before us, her pink nipples exposed to the air. My delicate wife looked

bewildered , and I guessed I was too.

"Your editor-in-chief is retiring in a month. I promoted you to this position, and everyone else will

think it's deserved, but nobody can guess the truth.

"

"Then, what is the truth?" I asked, still confused.

He turned his head, looked at me for a moment, smiled, and then pulled my wife's skirt down a bit,

revealing a pair of long, beautiful legs.

"I know you can guess, Rick. Let's not talk about these trivial things anymore, okay?"

I stared at Joyce, and she stared back at me, her innocent big eyes clearly pleading for an answer. How could

we agree? But how could we refuse?

Then, he took off his shoes and pants, then pulled down my wife's cute panties, parted her alabaster

legs, and to my shocked gaze, a thick

, old penis pressed against my wife's lower abdomen.

"Baby, relax," he coaxed softly. "Just relax, lie down."

"I can't do this!" my wife weakly refused.

"It's okay, baby," he continued gently, his powerful aura overwhelming my delicate

wife . I was completely ignored, as if I had never been

in the room.

My mouth was dry, and my limbs felt weak and powerless; what kind of person was this? Who could say

such lewd things and do such obscene things in front of someone's husband and still

get away with it?

He could!

Joyce was simply a stunner, with a slender figure, long, slightly curly blond hair, and smooth, delicate skin

like a newborn baby. She was 24 years old, but

she still had to show her ID when going to bars. Compared to his aging and bloated figure, my wife's youthful

vitality and beautiful figure were like a star in the darkness, tempting

his decadent desires.

He grabbed one of my wife's legs with one hand, gently spread it apart, and pushed her back slightly. She stared at him silently,

while I watched helplessly and in shock as

everything unfolded before me.

A wave of desolation washed over me, like I'd just survived a horrific car accident. I couldn't bear what was happening, this disaster that had

suddenly intruded into our lives,

the man about to have sex with my wife right in front of me.

He knelt on the carpet, his penis pressed against Joyce's slightly parted, pink vulva. She watched him silently,

her cherry lips slightly parted, a tense expression on her beautiful face

.

He rubbed his thick penis against my wife's vulva a few times, then thrust his hips forward, the enormous glans

forcing its way into her tight vaginal opening; right before my eyes

, my young, beautiful wife was being defiled by this billionaire!

"So good!" the movie mogul cried out excitedly, his genitals pressed tightly against my wife's wide-open legs.

At that moment, my wife glanced at me, a look of

profound meaning in her eyes, then looked away.

"There's nothing more exciting in this world; complete possession, overwhelming power,

having a young married woman in front of her helpless husband!" he said,

thrusting his thick penis into my wife. I suddenly realized that one of them had some

secretions , otherwise he wouldn't have been able to penetrate my beautiful

wife so easily.

"I have 35,000 employees, I dine with leaders from all over the world, but this is real

power , real possession. How old are you, Rick?"

"Thirty-five."

"Have you ever seen your lovely wife having sex with other men before?"

"No, no."

"Hmm, that's good. In the past, those heads of state and kings could easily get the women they wanted, but

now everything has changed."

He wasn't fat, but he was still a little overweight. He was over 60 years old, with several wives, many

children , and even several grandchildren. His large buttocks

rose and fell on my wife, each thrust pushing his thick penis deep into my wife's

sexy body.

“It’s a primal desire, Rick,” he continued, “I’m the dominant

man now, I’m enjoying your woman, and you

’ve chosen not to resist. You’re probably excited watching; you don’t need to feel ashamed.

It’s your nature to go after her after I’m done, so your

sperm has at least the same chance of hitting your wife’s egg and fertilizing it.”

My wife lay sprawled beneath him, one leg on the floor, the other draped over his

short, thick thigh; she stared at him with a strange look

, unsure of her own feelings. Perhaps she

was ashamed that she could experience pleasure in this situation, or perhaps she approved of his desire and

my utter shame.

"And another thing, your wife is very willing, Rick," he continued thrusting into my wife's vagina, then

said to me, "She flirted with me for hours last night

. You have to understand what I'm talking about. I'm an extremely successful man. Someone like me

condescending to talk to her should be a huge compliment to her.

Sure, I'm not very old, and my physique isn't great, but you have to admit, I'm very powerful."

He held my wife's full, white buttocks in both hands, plowing into her body with abandon; she occasionally

twisted her body, and from where they were joined,

I could see her pink vulva. His thick, old penis

moved in , each thrust

drawing out a trickle of milky white fluid from where his penis met her vagina. His large testicles also

slapped against my wife's perineum with each thrust. My wife lay

beneath him, looking so beautiful, so youthful, so lovely—too shameful to look at, yet too

alluring to look away from.

He stopped, cradling her head in his hands, giving her a gentle, wet kiss, then resumed his ministrations.

"You're such a lovely woman, Joyce, but what truly attracts me is your intelligence. Dating a woman with such

a sharp mind is incredibly appealing.

Tell me, do you love Rick?"

He paused his thrusting, waiting silently for my wife's answer.

A few minutes passed, but it felt like an eternity, before Joyce broke her silence with a single sentence,

"Um… um, I love him."

"That's wonderful! And you, Rick, do you love him too?"

"Of course!" I replied, my voice slightly odd.

My boss continued thrusting into my wife, each stroke penetrating so powerfully deep within her body that

it sent shivers of stimulating pleasure through her.

"Even now, as you see me defile her, and she writhes beneath me in pleasure, do you still love her?"

"Yes!"

"Say it again, tell her, now, tell her!"

"I love you, Joyce!" I shouted, my voice hoarse.

My wife clung to his broad shoulders, her long, beautiful legs wrapped tightly around his waist,

panting heavily. Her long, golden hair cascaded across the sofa and

onto the floor like a waterfall, her beautiful eyes gazing seductively at the

face of the old man thrusting into her. He was roughly fucking my wife,

not caring at all about hurting her.

Soon, my wife reached a climax amidst a complex mix of emotions—contradiction, shame,

pleasure, and passion. He groaned loudly, holding

my wife tightly, and deeply ejaculated thick, hot semen into her tender vagina, like a flood

surging into her womb.

"So good!" They rested for a while, then he gently kissed my wife, pulled his penis

out of her swollen vagina, sat up, and said, "

There's nothing more wonderful in the world!"

Joyce moved her legs off him, stood up, her eyes filled with tears, silently staring at me,

and then went into the bathroom.

"Alright, Rick, that's settled then," he said, sitting down and getting dressed.

"You, and your wife of course, will be traveling with us for the next few weeks, and you

can write articles for this newspaper. By the way, is she

on birth control pills?"

"Oh, she has an IUD."

"Well, better get it out soon. In a few weeks, you'll be catching up with me, haha!"

"Wait! You want my wife to get pregnant for you!"

“Of course, Rick. Otherwise, why would I want such a charming woman? I want healthy children,

smart children. As a wealthy man, I

want my business to be diversified; as a father, I need the same. I don’t have enough time to raise

and give enough love to the children I love; that

’s the key. I’ll leave my child in your home, nobody will know, and you can

raise him or her as your own. That’s enough. I know, you know,

Joyce knows, and nobody else knows. I’ll let your newspaper continue operating, in your charge, with

a generous salary and a respected position. Joyce won’t have

to look for a job to pay off her student loans anymore; she can stay home with the children, continue her in-depth research into

mathematical theory, maybe even solve a problem or two,

and be a good mother all at the same time. How about it?”

I stared at him, even though he had just slept with my wife, it still was unacceptable to me!

“Don’t even think about it! No way. You are indeed a big shot, but we also have dignity! We can solve this in other

ways !”

“Rick, let’s say yes.” Joyce’s voice came from the bathroom.

"What? Are you crazy?"

"I want to do it. It's attractive to both of us."

She wore a short robe, her hair was tousled, and she was barefoot, but her eyes were calm.

Janet was this big shot's personal assistant, and a captivating woman. She was at least 175 cm tall, and 183 cm

in heels. Her skin was flawless

, her eyes were clear and bright, and with her long blonde hair, she was a rare beauty. Compared to Janet

, Joyce instantly paled in comparison, even though the

personal assistant was simply dressed in a white shirt and black skirt, she exuded enough charm. She took

my wife for a full gynecological exam and

removed her IUD.

After that, there was no further news from the boss, but a few weeks later, Janet reappeared, taking us

and our luggage in a limousine to the airport. We boarded a

private jet, flew to New York, and another limousine took us to the Waldorf Hotel, where we checked into a

pre-booked luxury suite.

That night, the mating between my dear wife and that wealthy man was about to truly happen!

Janet entered our suite, bringing Joyce some clothes: black high heels and stockings, a pair of

beautiful diamond earrings, and a bottle of expensive perfume. She helped

my wife get ready, did her hair, and told her what a charming man our boss was. I was puzzled

as to why he didn't let Janet have his child, but instead chose my

wife; Janet seemed perfectly suitable. But I soon found out he had already

done .

He unlocked our suite door with his key, came in, and shook my hand.

"It's nice to see you again, Rick. How have you been lately?" he greeted warmly. "

Janet , oh, Joyce, you're here too. I've missed you

for weeks. How are you feeling?"

He took my wife's hands, looking her over with concern.

"I'm fine, thank you!" my wife replied softly. She wore a silk dress that concealed her

smooth alabaster skin, but the sexy nylon

stockings and black high heels made her even more alluring.

“Great,” he said happily. “Come on, let’s go to the bedroom. You come too, Rick. I think you

should be here too.”

“Why?” I asked, puzzled. The situation was too cruel to bear.

“Because it’s more fun that way,” he laughed, taking my wife’s hand and leading her out the door.

“Sit there and enjoy the view.” He gestured to the chair opposite the bed. I sat down,

and he gently pulled aside the sheer strap of my wife’s dress

and kissed her.

In his arms, my wife was petite, vibrant, and so delicate. We were both

ordinary people, powerless against his charm, confidence, and

awe-inspiring wealth. He had pushed us into a corner: we could save the newspaper, all

our friends’ jobs, and we could step into the life we had always dreamed of

. The price to pay was to get Joyce pregnant with his child. Just pretending his child was mine

, even though they were all mine, I would be their nominal

father, while he only wanted to be their genetic father, and of course, he wanted to have sex with my wife.

Joyce was lying lazily on the bed, his head buried between my wife's thighs. He parted my wife's legs...

With his knees and legs spread wide, I could see his

tongue occasionally brushing against my wife's pink, glistening labia, wet with desire.

Joyce trembled with pleasure, her hands clutching his head, twisting her ample hips, hoping he would lick deeper,

responding to him, pleasing him; in truth, he didn't need

to please my wife. He could have finished with my wife, ejaculating his thick semen inside her,

and then returned to his busy schedule, but clearly, he

was more than happy to enjoy this pleasurable sexual journey with her.

"I love the smell of a woman's genitals, what about you?" he asked, turning to me.

"I love the smell of my woman's genitals."

"The way your wife's thighs are wrapped around my neck is so alluring," he said, greedily caressing my wife's

plump, jade-like feet, occasionally sucking on them.

"There's a problem," he said. "After you've served some women, the smell of your breath can be unbearable for them. My

wife is like that; once I've kissed her vulva,

she won't let me kiss her again. Rick, come here and caress your wife for me while I rinse my mouth." He

looked up at me again.

"For you?"

"Come on, she's your wife after all. Let her stay excited."

He pointed to my wife's pink vulva, the entrance to her womb, about to be filled with his

seed .

My wife's snow-white thighs were spread wide, as if enticing a man to come forward and pluck the honeyed hole between her legs; I went

over, buried my head in her lovely vulva, and

gently licked her protruding clitoris with my tongue. I couldn't resist his command, even in this private suite.

My wife groaned loudly in stimulation, her legs tightly clamping my head. I probed my tongue into her wet, hot

vulva , savoring her sweet, lustful fluids.

After a while, I felt someone caressing my wife with me; I looked up and saw that he had already

returned from washing up. He kissed her upper red lips, while I

kissed her lower honey lips. Something felt off, so I moved my wife's thighs apart and sat back

down .

He rolled back between my wife's legs, his thick penis pressed against her tender vulva; I even saw

my wife reach out a hand and grab his penis, guiding

it into her honeypot.

"Ah, that feels so good, how do you feel, baby?" he asked my wife with a smile.

"So beautiful, you're so amazing!"

"Rick, how about you, are you feeling alright? Why don't you take it out and

enjoy yourself while watching us?" he said, turning to me.

Watching my wife and this old man's lovemaking, I held my penis and helplessly masturbated. It was

indeed embarrassing, but it didn't matter, and I even

found it a little bit amusing.

This time he remained silent, gently embracing my wife, tirelessly working on her body. His large,

thick penis thrust in

and out of her tender, moist vagina, her swollen, engorged labia turning inside out with each stroke.

Joyce was close to climaxing; he fucked her more and more violently. She whimpered softly, gripping his shoulders tightly;

he thrust even harder, each time penetrating deeply, and she

cried out in pleasure; he held her tightly, a satisfied look on his face as he ejaculated a large gush of thick

, hot .

When they finished, I was gripping my penis and stroking it wildly; he turned and stared at me, "Dear Joyce,

did you want Rick to cum in your mouth? He seems

a little disappointed."

She looked at me sadly, her clear eyes filled with sorrow, gazing at my dejected penis. She nodded.

I climbed onto the bed, and she took my penis into her mouth,

sucking it for a while. Under his gaze, I ejaculated into my wife's mouth.

The next few weeks were too busy. I had to follow him around, unable to have sex with them, and I had to

take notes for my manuscript. Every night he had

sex with my wife, and I had to watch.

In the second week, he let Janet into the room.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Janet, can you give Rick oral sex? It's making him uncomfortable to watch me and his wife have sex."

"Of course, no problem," she replied casually, as if it were just another task, which it

truly was.

"Janet really likes dicks," he explained, "please don't mind, Joyce, you don't mind either ,

do you?"

"Not at all, it's a good idea, and now I don't feel embarrassed anymore."

The alluring Janet knelt in front of me, took out my penis, and put it in her mouth; it tasted wonderful,

warm and wet. She gently sucked on my penis,

occasionally squeezing my scrotum, while I leisurely watched the erotic show on the bed.

She was exceptionally beautiful, unlike Joyce; she was skilled at makeup, her lips were blood-red, her eyelashes were

perfectly combed, her eyeshadow was applied just right, and her thick,

long, golden hair had a healthy sheen.

Under her expert licking and sucking, I quickly ejaculated into her throat,

and she swallowed every drop, squeezing my penis and scrotum to try and ejaculate more

.

From then on, she would sit with me every night to watch. Janet loved two things: kissing and

oral sex. She loved watching me undress, but she

never took off a single piece of clothing herself. She often aroused me, playing with my penis and frequently French kissing me;

then she would suck me until I ejaculated, swallowing it all.

She was truly an indescribable beauty.

Finally, our strange journey came to an end, and we returned to our familiar city, our familiar

life , and our familiar friends.

Of course, Joyce was pregnant too.

We didn't see him again for the next five years. Headquarters would occasionally send people to inspect our newspaper,

but he wouldn't waste time on such trivial matters

.

***

Joyce and I never discussed what happened during those weeks, the secret to our success, or the arrival of our first

child; those things remained deeply buried in our hearts.

We lived our lives quietly, without our love diminishing even though the first child wasn't mine

. Several years passed like this.

One night, there was a knock at the door: it was him.

He shook my hand, kissed my wife, and with his usual passion.

"How are you, Joyce?" he asked, looking into my wife's eyes.

"Great, thank you," she replied, her eyes sparkling.

He strode into our house, into our life; he was still that important man, and we

couldn't make him follow our rules, we knew that all too well

.

"Oh, I see a beautiful house, a happy family… two lovely children, a mother, a

father. That's wonderful. How are you two doing? Is your relationship

alright?"

"Indeed," I replied softly as I followed him in.

“Me too. I enjoy being a housewife, taking care of my children. I have plenty of free time to study

mathematics, and I’ve published several papers,

one of which has been cited by many people,” Joyce replied with a touch of pride.

He sat in our living room, chatting for hours, smiling as he looked at photos of

his children as babies, and happily playing with them. It seemed strange

; he was no longer the all-powerful financier, but simply an old man, a father who didn’t recognize

his own children.

After little Amy fell asleep, he began to talk business.

“Rick, I know you’ve done your best, but the newspaper still lost $3 million last year.”

We discussed the details for a while, but that’s irrelevant to this story, so I won’t go into them.

“I can’t save you anymore; it’ll be difficult to explain to the board.”

“So you mean to close the newspaper? Right when our sales are rising?”

I asked dejectedly.

“However, I can give you an extra five years to get rid of the financial deficit, unless…”

“What?”

He stared sharply at me, then looked at Joyce.

“Amy is a very bright girl. I set up a trust fund for her, and as long as she gets into

one of the top ten universities, her tuition won't be a problem

.”

“That sounds great,” I said.

“An extra five years, in exchange for wanting to have another child with Joyce,” he continued.

I stared at my wife; she stared back at me with wide eyes, just like before, seemingly

saying , but everything was in her gaze.

“I'll make a call from another room, you can discuss it.” With that, he placed the sleeping child on

the sofa and went into our guest room.

“What should we do?” I asked her.

“Have another one, besides, we want another one.”

“But I want it to be my child.”

“Then it will be your child too. Isn't Amy your child? Do you love her any less than Sam

?”

“Of course it’s my child, I love her very much.”

“Then what’s your problem? Do you mind me having sex with him?”

“You know I’ve never minded.”

“In that case, you have to accept this idea.”

What else could we do? If I lose my job, we'll have to sell our house and leave the

city we've lived in for so many years. Of course, everyone working at this newspaper

will lose their jobs. This isn't just about a job; it's about the fate of our entire community.

We have a responsibility to bear it. All my wife needs to do is let him have his way with her a few more times—it's not like she hasn't before

—and then everything will be fine.

After a while, he returned to the living room, and we told him our decision.

"Do you know when you get your period?" he asked my wife directly.

"About a week."

He stood up, took Joyce's hand, and kissed it gentlemanly. "I'll keep track of the time."

She moved closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he reached out and held my wife's ample buttocks.

They kissed as if no one else was around, their lips and tongues intertwined, their bodies pressed tightly

together, radiating passion.

Their passion was peculiar, purely sexual. They didn't want to live together, nor did they want to get to

know each other better; they just wanted to make love and have a child

. They craved intercourse, based on their good reproductive abilities.

"You can stay," my wife said softly to him.

He hesitated for a moment, then said, "I have to get back to the city; the plane is waiting for me."

"Let them wait for you," she suggested.

Hearing my wife's words, he picked her up and kissed her passionately. He took off my wife's t-shirt and clumsily

unhooked her bra.

"Your breasts have gotten so big."

"Lick them," she murmured, completely ignoring me.

This old man held my wife, his large hands groping her ample buttocks. She wrapped her legs around his

waist , arching her back to make it easier for him to kiss her full

, rounded breasts. He sucked on my wife's nipples incessantly, and she moaned with pleasure, clamping her arms and legs

tightly around him.

"Where's your bedroom?"

"Upstairs!" she answered breathlessly.

He put her down and led her up the stairs hand in hand. Joyce paused, turned, and looked at me; I

stood there dumbfounded in the living room,

completely bewildered.

"Carry Amy to bed, then come with us." She grinned, as if it were nothing

.

When I entered the bedroom, my wife and her wealthy lover were already naked, lying on our bed,

limbs intertwined, passionately kissing.

Time and two children seemed to have left no mark on Joyce's youthful body; she was now 29.

Her breasts and hips grew fuller. Her angelic,

flowing blonde hair, smooth, snow-white skin, and flat, soft belly were the testaments to her fertility.

But her lover, unable to withstand the ravages of time, had become even more unhealthy. A few sparse,

pale

his belly swelled, and heavy bags hung beneath his tired eyes.

I stood at the door for a while. I could understand her desire for him to be the father of her child: he,

a self-made billionaire, our child would be born

rich; at sixty-eight, he could still produce healthy sperm. But what I couldn't understand was

her intense desire to have sex with him; he didn't even look that

robust!

He pinned my wife to the bed, spreading her knees, exposing her plump vulva.

"Rick, look at your wife, long golden hair, smooth skin, full breasts, she's a perfect

mother. She not only takes care of the housework and

the children, but she's also studying advanced mathematical theories."

A pair of large hands were gently caressing my wife's naked body.

"She just told me that she's never been with any other man besides you, not including me, of course.

Will you always love her, Rick?"

I looked at her; she was panting under his caresses, waiting to have sex with him, yearning for his old cock to penetrate

her soft flesh. One hand gripped his penis, slowly

and forcefully pulling it down towards her.

"I'm willing."

"Would it hurt you if I made love to her?"

"Of course."

He smiled and said, "But for so many years, she has belonged to you. Now,

you shouldn't mind sharing her with your benefactor for a moment."

He climbed on top of my wife, kissing her lightly from time to time, then rolled off and gently caressed my wife's vulva. "When

you're intimate, do you give her oral sex?"

"Yes." I replied.

"Come on, let me see how you bring pleasure to your beautiful wife. Everything you have is given to

you by her, you know? Come here, put your face

between her legs."

Joyce looked at me expectantly, a real beauty.

He was absolutely right. Although I was the owner of the newspaper, the editor-in-chief of this newspaper, and a prominent

figure in the small town, it was all fake. In fact, my

status all came from Joyce and him. My true identity was nothing more than a cuckolded husband,

the father of another man's child. This is what I have now

!

I climbed into bed and did as he said.

I was diligently licking my wife's vulva below, while the two of them passionately kissed; soon they were

entwined, she sucking on his penis, and I licking

her swollen clitoris.

Finally, he told me to move to the side, "I'm going to have sex with your wife now. You can sit on the side and watch us.

See how I make your wife feel amazing."

With that, he climbed between my wife's legs, one hand on his erect penis, and forcefully thrust it into her wet, thirsty

vagina. Joyce braced her hands on the sheets, her head tilted

back, her young, beautiful body tightly wrapped around his fat waist, emitting soul-stirring moans.

I could only sit back down, watching this bizarre erotic spectacle with a mixture of pain and excitement.

We had spent the past five years in incredible happiness, and of course, indulging in great sex. But behind this harmonious and happy

life, there was always a shadow; I couldn't

ignore him, I couldn't refuse his sexual advances towards my wife. She was about to unconditionally accept his

sperm, to carry his child in her womb, and not just accept

, but my wife was happy to do so. She fervently desired him, his time, his promises, his

gaze, his superior genes; she longed for his passionate

kisses, his old cock, and everything I had endured. My humility was their best foreplay, making

them incredibly excited.

He pressed my wife's knees down onto the mattress, and from my angle, I could clearly see his erect

cock thrusting into my wife's wet, juicy pussy

, making her tender pink petals flip in and out with the thrusting of his thick penis.

"What I love most about Joyce is the way she treats me. Not like a fat old man,

but like a strong, charismatic man, isn't that right,

Joyce?"

"Yes, strong, sexy!"

"Do you still want to have my baby?"

"I really want to be pregnant with your baby!"

"Rick, that's what makes your wife so captivating, so incredibly captivating!"

With every word, he thrust his penis deep into my wife's body to emphasize that

the mother of my child was, of course, also the mother of his child. Sexy

and alluring, she emitted seductive moans beneath him.

"Darling, are you about to come?" he whispered in my wife's ear. "Do you want to

reach orgasm with your father?"

"Yes, I do! I want to...with you...ah...ah...oh..."

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching her convulse in his arms with a mixture of helplessness and excitement.

He pulled out his penis and pressed it against my wife's red lips. She obediently opened her mouth and took his penis in,

sucking on it with pleasure. His old cock grew even harder, the purplish-red

glans gleaming alluringly, veins bulging, seemingly on the verge of exploding.

"Ah, so good," he knelt on my wife's face, "Rick, have you ever tried anal sex?"

"No."

"You should try it, it's really good. What about you, Joyce? Have you ever tried anal sex?"

She paused, looked at me, and said, "I haven't done it since I got together with Rick." This

was the first time I'd heard her say this, and surprisingly, she

revealed it like this.

"Honey, there's Vaseline in the first-aid kit, go get it," she added.

I got the bottle of Vaseline and returned to the bedroom. Joyce was still diligently giving her old lover oral sex.

He occasionally gave his enormous scrotum a few light rubs.

"Don't just stand there, put some oil on your penis," he said, giving me a disapproving look.

Joyce rolled over, her hands and feet on the bed, knees spread wide, her cute little anus seemingly eagerly

welcoming my arrival.

Well, I was very excited too; watching them make love always thrilled me, though it was accompanied by heartache and

jealousy. Janet wasn't giving me oral sex anymore, and

I wished I could do it again…

When I penetrated, her rectum was so tight, it felt like my penis was being gripped tightly. She continued to suck on

my penis, and as I thrust in and out, I reached out

and kneaded her clitoris. Under this multi-sensory stimulation, my wife quickly reached the peak of pleasure.

He held my wife's head, his penis sliding in and out of her mouth. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at him, and

thrust forward even more violently, each

thrust harder than the last into my wife's anus, her large breasts swaying with each stroke. She trembled all over, cried

out, and the walls of her rectum convulsed rhythmically,

squeezing my penis. The intense stimulation made me erupt, and the thick semen I had held back all night

sprayed deep into my wife's tender rectum, scalding her and causing her

to groan loudly again.

Then, he stiffened, his hips thrusting as he ejaculated a large amount of semen deep into my wife's throat,

which she swallowed whole. She then rolled

onto the bed, panting heavily, exhausted.

"Rick, pack your things," he said, climbing off the bed. "You'll be with me next week."

"Why?"

"That way, I can guarantee it wasn't you who got Joyce pregnant, but me. She has to take care of the baby,

otherwise she could spend

a few weeks with me like last time. Hurry, the plane is waiting for me."

We flew to New York, then London, and then by helicopter to his estate. We talked a lot,

and I felt honored to spend so much time with such an important person

(he was often on the phone, and there were always one or two servants with him).

"Janet doesn't work for you anymore?" I couldn't help but ask him.

“Janet? No, he’s back to being Gene, married, and having a baby.”

“Gene?”

“He told me the baby’s in the lab stage. It’s such a shame, she could have been a wonderful girl,

my right-hand woman.”

“You know cuckoos, Rick?”

“What?”

“A cuckoo is a large, black tropical bird that lays its eggs in a crow’s nest,

along . The baby cuckoo hatches first, eats more, and grows

faster than the crow chicks. The adult crow diligently feeds it, completely unaware that they’ve been tricked—or perhaps you’d

prefer to say they’ve been cuckolded. Of course, what I did

was slightly different; you know you raised my offspring.”

“I treated her like my own.”

“I know, Rick, and I admire that about you.”

His wife was a few years older than my wife but younger than me, and she was surprised he’d come home.

She was an impressive woman; I’d never seen such a beautiful woman, and it was hard not to steal

glances at her.

She was very tall, at least 178 cm, with a slender and well-proportioned figure, curvaceous, long, straight, beautiful legs,

and long, reddish-brown hair—a truly rare beauty. Her

face was flawless from any angle, every expression captivating, a different

kind . But she exuded a faint sadness; she

wasn't a happy woman.

We had dinner together, but the boss left without eating breakfast the next morning.

"Make

yourself

I felt I had been too casual, sleeping in the same bed as his wife.

She longed for companionship, and so did I. In bed, she poured out her life's hardships to me, and we became

confidantes .

This has nothing to do with my story; it's merely material for a moral lesson—he who commits adultery

will have his wife violated. She valued appearance highly, and I,

being good-looking, not domineering, relatively young and handsome, was the opposite of her husband. I fantasized about getting her

pregnant and tried my best to achieve this goal; she wrapped her long, beautiful

legs tightly around my waist, and I repeatedly ejaculated into her uterus.

Making love with a sexy and beautiful supermodel was pure bliss, and I

felt a little regretful when I loved my wife so much.

But the good times didn't last long. He called from New York.

"I want you to be with my wife, so I can be with yours. I like you,

Rick , and I don't mind you doing this. I've wanted to

divorce her for a long time, but it would cost me a lot of money. You know she's not very smart, and she's not very fertile,

although she still gave me one." He said with a grin

, as if telling a trivial joke.

This tall, beautiful woman seemed to have lost her charm, but we still slept together. We chatted, kissed passionately,

made love, enjoyed this false love, and shared our

lonely times.

After her husband was sure my wife was pregnant with his child, he immediately sent a plane to take me home, and

I never saw them again.

After his suicide, it was discovered that his entire wealth empire was riddled with enormous debt!

He had embezzled our pension fund; my newspaper was immediately shut down, and we had nowhere to turn.

We had to move to the city, and I stayed home to care for our three children. Joyce, on the other hand, 　　secured a high-paying job at a multinational bank

thanks to her PhD and several published mathematical papers. 　　The only sum of money that remained untouched and cleverly evaded creditors was a massive scholarship. The beneficiaries were 97 children of different ages and 26 adults.

These are older children sponsored by the school.

It's not hard for me to see that all the children's parents were once secretly promoted to high positions by this powerful figure, and

the vast majority of them were consistently operating at a loss until the entire company

went bankrupt.

People call him a failure; he was never seen as a success by others.

But I must say they are all wrong. At least he fathered 123 children with 75 different women—

isn't that the true meaning of success?

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