A wife's day watching her being fucked

A Wife's Day—Watching My Wife Get Fucked
(Chapter 1)
My wife is a primary school teacher, with a tall and voluptuous figure and a beautiful and dignified face. But perhaps you wouldn't expect that when she stands on the podium lecturing seriously, her graceful body beneath that elegant and well-fitting business suit is actually straining her thighs together—her vagina and uterus are filled with thick semen, gushing outwards.
A stream of semen has already broken through the cover of her black lace panties, slowly flowing down her thighs. There is so much semen that it slightly swells her lower abdomen, and the resulting pressure and effort to tighten her vaginal walls give her waves of pleasure, a constant, slight trembling that originates from her vagina and rushes to her brain and entire body.
My wife's face and skin turn flushed and hot, and the feeling of being rubbed and sucked still lingers on her full breasts, which are not wearing a bra; her erect nipples stand out clearly against her outer clothing. Her voice grew increasingly seductive, accompanied by soft panting. Unfortunately, the children below the podium were oblivious, only the growing number of parents picking up their children outside the window could see it clearly.
Unlike the parents of other classes, who were mostly elderly people and women, the parents picking up their children from my wife's class were all robust men. Even the male staff members at the school showed unusual interest in this class. They knew perfectly well that my wife's current allure was the result of their efforts throughout the day at different times and places, and that they would continue to try—I already knew that so much semen couldn't all be from me, although I'm quite capable myself.
(Chapter Two)
7:00
As the light in the bedroom gradually brightened, my wife slowly woke up from her sleep, lazily stretching her limbs. The feeling of our "battle" last night still lingered in her body. She couldn't help but turn her head, looking at me still asleep, a shy and happy smile appearing on her beautiful face.
We were from the same hometown and were classmates in university. At the time, I was the youngest in the class, and my wife was a year older than me. I had never been in a relationship before, and no one expected that she, known as the "beauty of the department," would be won over by a "greenhorn" like me.
Most of my rivals were intimidated by her dignified, elegant, and aloof demeanor; they never even dared to hold her hand. She had never even kissed me before, but I, with my headstrong impulsiveness and a rudimentary understanding of female psychology gleaned from the "sex education textbooks" I devoured in high school, gradually won her heart. I discovered that my wife actually had a vulnerable and submissive side; once you opened her heart, she would give herself completely.
My wife came from a strict family, and her views on sex were very conservative. We started dating in our sophomore year, and it wasn't until my birthday in our final semester of senior year that she gave me her virginity, which she had treasured for over twenty years. At that moment, I felt like the happiest person in the world.
After graduation, my wife returned to her hometown and became a teacher at a primary school in the county town; she loved her job. After working in a government office for half a year, I couldn't resist quitting and started my own business. After a few years, I've achieved some success. Mainly, everything was on track, and I had more free time, so we naturally got married. We've been together for five years now.
Our sex life has been very fulfilling these past five years. My energy and desire are equally strong; I make love to my wife almost every day, always trying different methods. My wife, however, acts like it's her first time, maintaining a virginal reserve and shyness.
She's so gentle and shy, it even gives one a sense of submissiveness. She accepts whatever I do, and this submissiveness sometimes makes me unsure whether she's willing or enduring, happy or in pain. But whatever it is, I crave that suffering expression and moaning from her. Those expressions and moans always give me a sense of conquest, bringing me to a climax!
My wife is incredibly sexy without being lewd during sex. No matter how much I arouse her, or how excited she is, she never appears wanton. I can only tell from her alluring eyes, her burning skin, her swaying hips, her controlled breathing, and her rapidly secreting fluids that she is also enjoying herself.
She never initiates sex; she gently reminds me with her watery eyes and blushing cheeks. And whenever I need her, she's always willing to oblige, making me happy as if it were her duty in our sex life. However, she has her principles: I must wear a condom because we don't want children yet. Even if I'm impatient, she gently and insistently puts it on for me. Also, she doesn't like oral or anal sex. Although I insist, she's tried it once or twice, but never successfully; she thinks it's "dirty" and painful.
Aside from that, my wife is truly an excellent sexual partner. The wonderful blend of elegance and sexiness in her makes me feel an uncontrollable desire whenever I see her.
Just like last night, we made love from 10 pm to midnight, leaving our marks everywhere from the living room to the bedroom. I changed positions at least seven or eight times, from missionary to doggy style. My wife's breathing and moans grew more rapid, and her vaginal contractions became stronger.
When I carried her to the large mirror and showed her her flushed cheeks and sweaty skin, she let out a soft, coquettish sound, closed her eyes tightly, and squeezed me even tighter with her thighs. I could clearly feel the increased grip on my penis inside her vagina, and as I thrust in with all my might, I couldn't help but ejaculate.
Even though there was a thin membrane between us, the heat hitting her uterus still made her let out an uncontrollable moan, and her vaginal fluid gushed out. We both reached orgasm at the same time. In her dazed state, my wife bit my shoulder, and we collapsed onto the bed, too weak to even wipe away the sweat and fluids. We drifted off to sleep in each other's arms…
My wife snapped out of her reverie, leaned down, and kissed the teeth marks on my shoulder with her full, rosy lips, smiling wryly. She gently lifted the blanket, revealing my erect penis, still wrapped in last night's condom, the tip brimming with semen. A blush spread across my wife's face. She gently bit her lip, still holding the base of my penis with her left hand, while her slender, white fingers gently and slowly rolled the condom up, careful not to wake me. When the condom reached the tip, it seemed the overflowing semen was about to spill.
My wife held my penis with one hand, grabbed a tissue from beside the pillow with the other, wrapped it around the glans, and with a gentle pull and a twist of her wrist, caught the entire bag of semen without spilling a drop.
This was a "homework" my wife did almost every morning, a routine she was practically adept at. However, the stimulation of her sensitive areas still made my body twitch a few times. My wife chuckled softly, shrugged her bare shoulders, and got out of bed carrying my bag of "seeds and grandchildren." I hesitated, thinking of putting on my underwear before going to the bathroom, but seeing the glistening, dried fluid between her legs, I hesitated. Instead, my wife quietly left the bedroom, still naked.
As her soft footsteps disappeared outside the bedroom door, I suddenly opened my eyes. I had been awake for a while; I woke up at this time every day because I knew my pure and dignified wife was about to begin her day of sexual bliss.
She had tried her best to hide all of this from me, to maintain her image as a virtuous wife in my eyes, because her heart was pure, her love for me had never changed, and her actions were all for my reputation, all to maintain this marriage she cherished. But what my wife didn't know was that all of this was something I had meticulously planned and orchestrated, and everything was under my control.
(Chapter 3)
7:10
It wasn't long before class started, and the tireless noise of elementary school students could be faintly heard through the window. Because my wife's school was located in the city center, in a very good location, when the school built teachers' apartments, we decided to settle down near the school. This way, it would be very convenient for my wife to get to work; she could sleep at least half an hour longer in the morning and go directly to the classroom when it was time to leave.
Through the slightly ajar bedroom door, I could hear the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. My wife was washing away the traces of our lovemaking the night before. My wife is very clean; she's always been in the habit of showering twice a day. Back in college, I joked that her daily shower pass money was enough for me to buy a plate of cheat sheets at the cafeteria, for which she'd call me a little stinky pig for barely showering a few times a month. Lately, she's been showering even more frequently, and I know why, of course.
There's a bathtub in the ensuite bathroom, but my wife doesn't want to wake me, so she goes to the outer bathroom to shower, which is convenient for me; I can prepare myself at my leisure every day. I got out of bed, quickly washed away the love fluids my wife had left on my lower abdomen in the ensuite bathroom, put on a nightgown, and quietly walked into the living room.
Normally, my wife wouldn't hear any noise outside while she's showering, but to make this game last longer and provide greater stimulation, I decided to let her think I was still dreaming.
I checked the swivel lock on the bathroom door; it probably wasn't locked from the inside. That wasn't important; what mattered was the security door. I gently retracted the bolt of the security door lock, leaving it slightly ajar—enough for anyone suspicious. My wife has a bad memory; if I told her she'd forgotten to lock the door properly, she wouldn't suspect a thing.
Now it was time to put my secret weapon, which I'd spent several days setting up, to use. I'd bought these pinhole cameras and monitors during a business trip to the provincial capital, and installing them discreetly, despite my lack of expertise, had been a real struggle.
Although I'd tested the angles yesterday afternoon, I still checked each camera again: the two in the living room were on the TV wall and near the picture frames above the sofa, looking like nail heads; the one on the balcony was on top of the storage cabinet, and the one in the kitchen was on top of the range hood—all places my wife couldn't see or notice. The one in the bathroom was next to the water heater pipes—that's exactly what I needed. As for the cameras in the bedroom and study, it seemed they wouldn't be needed until the afternoon at the earliest.
Everything was ready, and I eagerly returned to the bedroom, grabbed the monitor from my bedside table, and, with a pounding heart, turned it on and switched to the external bathroom camera…
The image quality was superb! The camera was positioned about 30 centimeters above a person's height, a perfect angle. Perhaps because the water temperature wasn't too high, there was very little steam, and the camera's automatic dimming and focusing functions were excellent. My wife's body was clearly visible on the screen; it seemed my money was well spent.
My wife was washing herself, so I couldn't see her face, but her curvaceous figure was even more alluring: her firm breasts, like two trembling milk jellies, jiggled with her movements, and her bright red nipples, like cherries on jelly, were exceptionally fresh and eye-catching; her slender yet strong waist swayed gracefully, her flat stomach without an ounce of fat, and her full, rounded buttocks seemed to defy gravity.
The most attractive features of a woman were perfectly combined in my wife! This was all thanks to her long-term training, and of course, not just in bed. My wife had practiced rhythmic gymnastics since she was a child, and even won a medal at the provincial university games!
My wife had strong muscles and taut skin, and long legs that were uncommon among East Asians, which made her genitals appear high, perfectly meeting the requirements of an art model. Her fair skin was almost flawless, and her long, black hair shone with a glossy sheen when wet.
This strikingly contrasting, voluptuous female body was my daily bedmate, the "public wife" I had intentionally created for the students' parents and teachers, the "public toilet" that the men in the neighborhood could use whenever they wanted? But when she raised her head, I saw a face radiating pure elegance, a pair of bright eyes, without a trace of slutness. This beautiful body was like a spring scene from a classical oil painting, making one forget worldly concerns. I couldn't help but ask myself, was everything I was doing right?
Undoubtedly, my perverted psychology was greatly satisfied, and I was almost constantly excited because of my wife's physical experiences. But what about my wife? Is this deception or harm? How would she react if she knew that most of the men who had slept with her were arranged by her husband? However, I seem to have noticed that my wife is gradually getting used to this continuous cycle of immoral sex and deriving increasing pleasure from it. So, it's a win-win situation, right?
My thoughts drifted further and further away, and I didn't even notice a man's hand on the small screen in the living room. He gently opened the slightly ajar security door, then closed it again with practiced ease, turning and walking directly towards the bathroom without even checking his surroundings. It was clear this was a regular; he knew my wife and I'd perfectly timed our routines, knowing exactly when I was sleeping in the bedroom and my wife was showering in the bathroom.
I was still lost in thought until the man reached the bathroom door and tried to turn the lock. Suddenly, I snapped back to reality. All thoughts of repentance vanished, replaced by a powerful sexual urge to spy on my wife's infidelity. Men, after all, are driven by their penises!
I steadied myself and stared at the screen. From this angle, I could only see the back of the man standing outside the bathroom. I couldn't help but grit my teeth in regret. But I wouldn't have to wait long; the camera in the bathroom would soon come in handy.
Before this system was installed, although I opened the security door almost every morning, and every few days some audacious man would sneak in, I could only strain my ears to eavesdrop through the door.
Sometimes I could tell from his tone and accent, and sometimes from the name my wife blurted out in surprise, but more often I could only hear my wife's surprised voice, the man's lustful, impatient, and lewd voice, short, stifling sounds of resistance and struggle, my wife's soft pleas being silenced by a gag; then the sounds of flesh colliding, the man's excited, heavy breathing, my wife's increasingly clear but deliberately suppressed moans; then the strange, forceful thrusting sounds from the man's throat, followed by brief silence, and finally the sounds of my wife sighing and washing up after the man hurriedly closed the door and left; and of course, the sound of my wife's footsteps as she listened for any movement at the bedroom door.
I could only guess who it was, and then spend the whole day lining up all the male faculty members in the school: I knew that at this time in the morning, it couldn't be a student's parent or anyone else. This frustration of deduction led me to decide to install this camera system with sound; today, I would finally fulfill my long-held wish to "live stream"!
The figure on the screen turned the bathroom doorknob, and sure enough, it wasn't locked! It seemed my wife had lowered her guard because I hadn't opened the door as usual these past few days due to the installation plan (she occasionally remembers to close the door I leave open, which is when the lecherous man outside suffers).
Hearing the sound of the handle turning, my wife, who was drying herself with a large towel on the bathroom screen, instinctively stopped. I saw a complex expression on her face: surprise, worry, suspicion, resistance, and perhaps a glimmer of hope.
The doorknob turned to its full extent, and the door was slowly pushed open, revealing a man's figure in front of my wife and the camera.
(Chapter 4)
7:20
"Cheng Bin," "Teacher Cheng," my wife and I called out simultaneously, except I was in the bedroom, just inches away, facing this man "secretly" raping my wife through the camera, while my wife was naked in her own bathroom, facing this man who wasn't her husband.
The familiar, work-like address of "Teacher Cheng's wife" slipped out, but her hands instinctively rose to cover her ample breasts with a towel. Her fair body trembled slightly as if suddenly chilled, and her full buttocks and smooth shoulders, facing the camera, contracted sharply upwards, making her tall, slender figure resemble a frightened kitten.
I had overheard countless instances of her sudden reaction to a lecherous man, or heard vivid "reports" from the men I had arranged, but this was the first time I had witnessed it so vividly before my eyes. Such a powerful psychological stimulus caused my penis to instantly harden, like lightning.
My surprise wasn't because Cheng Bin was a newcomer to the "watering" group; he'd been inside my wife's body at least dozens of times before. What surprised me was the sheer coincidence: the first man I arranged for my wife was Cheng Bin, the first among all the lustful men in the neighborhood to have her body, and now, he was the first person to have sex with her right under my nose after I installed the hidden camera. How could he be so lucky?
"Yeah, it's me. Happy now?" Cheng Bin said with a smug grin on the camera, already taking off his coat in the living room, unbuckling his belt as he spoke, making him seem even more eager.
Actually, Cheng Bin was quite a remarkable man, at least outwardly. He was a physical education teacher at my wife's school, with a tall, exceptionally strong physique from years of exercise, and a face with thick eyebrows, large eyes, and well-defined features—exactly the "prince" type that women subconsciously crave. My choice of Cheng Bin as the first man to defile my wife's body was also based on this consideration:
as the first man besides her husband to forcibly possess her body, at least she wouldn't feel any physical aversion, and other reactions could be gradually calmed down; moreover, as a woman with a normal human love of beauty, I could see that my wife had a vague affection for Cheng Bin, which made my planning even more exciting, and gave me a strange impulse.
"What do you want to do? Get out!" my wife whispered, her heart clenching as if a large hand had suddenly gripped it.
She knew very well what was about to happen; this kind of thing had happened to her countless times. The man in front of her was the one who started her into this state of promiscuity, the one who took her virginity, and all the men and penises that followed were pioneered by this man!
Whether it was the education she received from childhood or her guilt towards her husband (actually, it was me who should feel guilty), my wife should hate Cheng Bin to the core. However, the wife couldn't quite explain her feelings: why had she felt a persistent, subtle urge that day? Why had her husband, who never drank, gotten so drunk? Why did Cheng Bin appear so conveniently when her heart was wavering? Why did she still have this inappropriate attraction to him now?
(The wife didn't know that Cheng Bin was merely the first vibrator I had chosen for her; I was the one who had created her into a "toilet"! Of course, she also didn't know why she had become so "lustful," so desperate that day—because I had added a trace of aphrodisiac to her milk.)
"Why bother? We're an old married couple, what's there to be embarrassed about?"
"You shameless! My husband is next door, he's about to wake up, get out of here!" the wife hissed in a low voice, her usually gentle voice now hoarse with tension. Actually, she was also very anxious, wanting to use me to get rid of the man in front of her, yet afraid that he would actually wake up, making all her efforts and sacrifices futile.
My first loss of virginity was because I was afraid of waking my husband. That day, at the school's family social gathering, I deliberately drank too much. Cheng Bin, whom I had arranged beforehand, drove me home. With his instructions, he raped my wife on the living room sofa. Meanwhile, I, pretending to be drunk, excitedly listened to everything from the bedroom bed. Through the crack in the bedroom door, I stared intently at my wife's face, a mixture of grief and suppressed sensuality, as she was being raped, filled with guilt and thrill.
"Don't worry about your husband, he's fast asleep. He has no idea his wife is cheating on him. You're not really going to wake him, are you?" Cheng Bin, knowing my wife's weakness, deliberately raised his voice. He was already naked, a thick, hard penis throbbing between his legs—it was about to enter my wife's body!
The camera focused on Cheng Bin's exceptionally strong body; his bronze skin taut over his undulating muscles, exuding a powerful masculine scent and allure. Even I envied him for this. Although I was a key defender on my department's football team in university, my physical abilities couldn't compare to his.
As expected, the wife was defeated by this all-powerful phrase. Her legs went weak, and she involuntarily took two steps back. Cheng Bin seized the opportunity to step forward and embrace her fair body. A strong masculine aura instantly enveloped her. This familiar scent, the strong, powerful male body, and the battle between a woman's desires and morals deep within her heart sent shivers down her spine, and her beautiful eyes became misty.
She knew what was about to happen, but her heart instinctively resisted, clinging to the last bastion of purity in her soul. Each time felt like the first time she was raped by another man; each time she tried her best to resist—to resist the man's penis and her own physical needs, even though she knew how futile this resistance was, especially when facing this strong man holding her tightly in his arms.
The show was finally about to begin! In the bedroom, I was so excited I couldn't sit still, my penis hard as a board. Through the high-resolution camera, in the bathroom outside, my wife's slender, fair body was tightly entwined with Cheng Bin's muscular
, bronzed physique. A white towel was still limply held to her chest. Cheng Bin ripped the towel away, and his hot pectoral muscles pressed against her high, full breasts without any obstruction. My wife couldn't help but let out a soft "Ah!" Her slender waist was held tightly in Cheng Bin's arms, unable to move. Her upper body instinctively leaned back, arching like a bow on the screen in front of me. Even through the microphone and earpiece, I could still hear the multiple meanings in that soft cry. My wife futilely tried to pry Cheng Bin's arm from her waist with one hand, while her other hand, having finally managed to break free, weakly pushed against Cheng Bin's chest. But to me, it seemed more like a reluctant resistance.
Perhaps all men possess a beastly nature; his wife's resistance only fueled Cheng Bin's intense desire. Despite having already taken the woman's body many times, how could such beautiful flesh ever tire of him? The thrill of defiling another man's wife, especially knowing that her husband was right next door, perhaps even eavesdropping (I can't believe I'm watching!), made Cheng Bin's penis as hard as a rock, thrusting between his wife's long legs.
His wife weakly clamped her thighs together, hoping this would hold her last line of defense; Cheng Bin, however, knew that in this environment and under his assault, his wife's resistance wouldn't last long—she was already breathing heavily. He forcefully turned his wife's small head and kissed her full, red lips. The slight stubble of her beard rubbed against her smooth, tender face, making him feel aroused, but his wife still tightly pursed her lips, letting Cheng Bin's mouth ravage her face.
Cheng Bin grinned lewdly, shifting his focus: one hand remained around his wife's waist, controlling her feeble resistance, his fingers busy kneading the firm skin of her slender waist. His other hand traced the smooth, pointed shoulders and back down to her full, slightly upturned buttocks, caressing her plump flesh. The rich, fleshy texture stimulated both of them, their breathing becoming heavy.
Cheng Bin lowered his head, skillfully finding his wife's breasts with his lips, his tongue moving back and forth, occasionally sucking on her nipples or flicking them with his tongue. His wife's heavy breasts trembled with the movement of his tongue, a current coursing through her body, her rosy nipples gradually becoming engorged and erect. His wife's hands weakly pushed against Cheng Bin, her head tilting back limply, her long, black hair swaying like willow branches with his movements.
As the physical sensations intensified, the wife's consciousness gradually blurred. She murmured as if in a dream, "No... this, quickly... let go... me... ah..."
Continuous pleasure surged within her body. Her two fair and slender thighs unconsciously contracted and rubbed together. Her untouched genitals became sensitive, and her vagina became hot. The wife could even feel a trace of love fluid being quietly secreted.
Her breathing grew increasingly soft and seductive, a change Cheng Bin noticed keenly. He slowly released his hold on her waist and moved his fingers towards her genitals, gently tugging at her soft pubic hair and kneading the tender flesh of her vaginal opening. His wife slightly pulled back, as if trying to escape the intrusion of this hand that wasn't her husband's on her sensitive, secret place, but Cheng Bin's fingers, like a nimble multi-headed snake, followed closely, greedily kneading her vulva.
His technique was remarkably skillful; he deliberately avoided penetrating her vagina, instead providing continuous stimulation to her vulva. Her labia slowly became engorged with blood, parting slightly, releasing a faint scent of vaginal fluid. Under Cheng Bin's skillful caresses, her clitoris gradually hardened, protruding from the protective barrier of her labia, further attracting his fingers to relentlessly attack and pluck it.
Each of Cheng Bin's advances sent ripples through his wife's nervous system. Her body writhed more and more violently; even on the monitor, I could clearly see her skin flush crimson, a blush of desire rising on her beautiful face as she twisted and turned. Her suppressed moans grew increasingly soft and seductive, striking my heart through the earphones.
Her entire vagina felt burning hot, as if even her uterus had turned into semi-molten lava. More love fluid secreted from her vagina, wetting Cheng Bin's palm. Cheng Bin wiped up the sticky liquid, smelled it, and even I could almost smell that familiar, sweet fragrance.
He held his hand, brimming with love fluid, in front of his wife's eyes. "Look," he whispered in her ear, "you're so wet. You need it too, don't you? What are you pretending for?"
Unexpectedly, even in her dazed state of mind, his wife retained a sliver of consciousness. What Cheng Bin perceived as flirtatious words ignited her shame. Instinctively, she avoided the fluids she herself had secreted, using her last ounce of willpower to pull herself out of the vortex of lust.
"I was raped, how can I feel this way?" His wife twisted her body, trying to break free from Cheng Bin's embrace. "Oh...please...please...let...me go...ah..."
This tearful, moaning voice was like a Viagra to any man; both Cheng Bin's and my penises, as if on command, suddenly became erect. I could only restrain myself with my hands, while Cheng Bin's penis pounded against his wife's lower abdomen, like the sounding of a final assault.
His excellent athleticism came in handy; his movements were swift, grabbing his wife's arms and pushing her against the wall, stabilizing her struggling body. My wife, panting, writhed and weakly cried out, "What...what are you going to do? Let me go..."
"What are you going to do? We've done it so many times already, what do you want me to do?" Cheng Bin leered, using his knee to pry open her tightly clenched thighs. A menacing penis followed, thrusting between her legs. This penis was so erect, pointing upwards without needing any support, its glans, swollen purple with heat and lust, automatically pressing against my wife's vulva.
Frankly, because Cheng Bin was taller than me, his penis was also larger. Finally, I could see another man's penis inside my wife's vagina, and this penis was even bigger than mine, making me even more excited!
I suppressed my pounding heart and aching penis, trembling as I zoomed in: Cheng Bin's penis moved back and forth between my wife's thighs, wet with vaginal fluid, gleaming silver under the light and the high-resolution lens.
The wife kept writhing, which in turn caused her to automatically smear her constantly secreted love fluid onto Cheng Bin's penis. His penis, glistening with the fluid, moved in and out, wetting her thick pubic hair. The glans moved against her vulva, occasionally parting her labia, teasing her sensitive clitoris, and even penetrating her vaginal opening. Each time this happened, the wife tensed up, as if a city had fallen.
The lewd atmosphere in the air grew stronger, and the three people caught in the torrent of lust began to change: I, sitting in the bedroom holding the monitor and stroking my penis, and Cheng Bin, embracing his wife in the bathroom, both grew increasingly hard, while the wife being raped grew increasingly limp: "Ah... let... go... stop... oh... oh..." The words of resistance from her red lips gradually turned into seductive gasps and moans, and her two white, tender thighs unconsciously spread wider and wider.
Faced with such a beautiful and alluring female body, Cheng Bin could no longer restrain himself. He freed one hand and aimed his penis, as hard as an iron rod, at his wife's moist and smooth vaginal opening, slowly pushing the swollen, mushroom-shaped glans into her vagina. His wife's body seemed to be lifted up slowly, her beautiful face in a daze, her delicate red lips half-open, uttering an "Oh..." sound.
Cheng Bin's glans entered my wife's vagina, the tightness of his lower body honed by years of gymnastics training and the fiery touch surged through his sensory organs like an electric current. He recklessly thrust his hips forward, and his hot, hard penis plunged deep into my wife's vagina.
"He finally went in!" For the first time, seeing someone else's penis penetrate my wife's body, I actually felt a sense of accomplishment. Caught up in extreme excitement, neither Cheng Bin nor I noticed that at this moment, my wife, whose lower body was being thrust into by his penis, murmured a sentence.
If the microphone had been a little more sensitive, I would have heard the words coming from my unfaithful wife's mouth: "Husband... I'm sorry...
"

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