The cuckoldry after fertilization

I couldn't understand the cuckolding I experienced 　　after using artificial insemination .
How could I have contracted azoospermia, the most serious form of male infertility? I'm physically strong, my reproductive organs are fully developed, my testicles are the right size and firmness, and my libido is strong—how could I have no sperm? During that time, I was depressed and withdrawn. My wife comforted me, saying, "It's okay, we can always adopt a child."
Reflexively, I refused outright. Absolutely not! Adopting a child—if people knew I was infertile, what face and dignity would I have left? If people suspected I was infertile, wouldn't I feel wronged? You absolutely have to have a child.
In one year, we underwent three IVF procedures, but fate played a cruel trick on us; we failed every time. Time and energy drained us, and we lost the courage to continue.
One evening, I was strolling alone on the street when I casually bought a magazine at a newsstand. An article on the cover caught my eye; it was about a husband who was infertile. To save face and continue the family line, his family encouraged his wife to find a man outside the marriage to father a child. She gave birth to a healthy, chubby son, and his family was overjoyed, treating him as their own.
After reading it, I wrote a note and tucked it before the article, saying: "I will be like that husband, and I hope you will be like that wife."
A few days later, I opened the magazine and found the note missing. Knowing my wife had read it, I asked her, "What do you think?" She said, "Do you really want to do that?" I replied, "There's no other choice now. It's a win-win situation. On one hand, you can become a real mother; on the other hand, our family will be truly complete; and of course, my reputation will be preserved."
Time passed day by day. That summer, we hired several helpers, including a man about my age, tall and good-looking. He had served in the army for several years, and combined with manual labor, he was very fit and attractive. He was married and had a lovely daughter.
At first, he would immediately ride his motorcycle home as soon as he was due, a journey of only half an hour. Because I worked in another city and could only come home on weekends, my wife was the sole breadwinner, managing everything at home while also working during the day, which was very tiring. Later, when the man found out, he felt my wife was working too hard and often helped by offering suggestions, running errands, buying materials, supervising quality control, and directing the workers.
To express her gratitude, my wife would often cook a lavish dinner to reward him. Gradually, the man became less eager to come home. One weekend when I came home and we had dinner together, I noticed a newfound casualness and intimacy between my wife and the man. I really hoped something would happen between them.
Some time later, on a Wednesday, I went back to my hometown on business. After finishing, it was still early, so I didn't call my wife or rush home. Instead, I went to an internet cafe and spent some time online until after 9 PM before returning home. As soon as I entered the yard, I saw the man's motorcycle parked downstairs.
The lights were on in the living room upstairs; someone was watching TV. I could hear running water in the bathroom; someone was taking a shower. I didn't go in but hid in the yard to observe. After a while, the water in the bathroom stopped, the lights went out, someone came into the living room, said a few words, and then turned off the TV and lights. The light in the master bedroom came on. Since we live in a detached house, the curtains weren't drawn; only the main light was off, and the bedside lamp was on, creating a softer, more intimate atmosphere.
I quietly opened the door, took off my shoes, went upstairs, and hid by the bedroom door to eavesdrop. A soft rustling sound came from below, then came panting, slowly turning into my wife's moans. I heard her let out a soft "ah," and then various sounds entered my ears: the creaking of the bed, the sounds of flesh colliding, moans, panting, and the sucking sounds of friction as it went in and out.
I touched my groin; my penis was hard as iron, wet on the shaft, and my underwear was wet too. I don't know how much time passed, but my blood was surging, and I felt as if liquid was about to gush out. Just then, I suddenly heard my wife scream, followed by a muffled groan from the man. Apart from the heavy breathing, all other sounds stopped abruptly.
I quietly went downstairs, my body burning hot. I took off my clothes and stood naked in the yard, my mind filled with images of them making love. I frantically masturbated, feeling an unbridled pleasure. I fell asleep on the sofa downstairs. When I woke up, I checked the time; it was already past four in the morning. I got dressed and decided to go upstairs.
Upstairs, I opened the bedroom door and turned on the main light. The room instantly became as bright as day. There they were, naked, sprawled out, fast asleep. The sheets were a mess, and the blankets were lying on the floor.
The man's penis was thick and powerful, pressed tightly against his stomach, the glans just covering his navel. A bluish tinge had burst from the shaft, and his scrotum hung softly. His two large testicles were swollen and swollen. Most strangely, while most people's pubic hair is curly, his pubic hair was not only long but also straight, covering his entire lower abdomen with a dense, shiny black covering that extended all the way to his navel. His
scrotum was also hairy, and his penis was covered with fine, dense black hair about six or seven centimeters from the base. Perhaps it was the bright light that woke them both at the same time. The man frantically grabbed his clothes, which I had already gathered. He then grabbed the sheets, which fell to the floor.
I saw his penis rapidly soften, finally drooping lazily between his legs like a fat caterpillar. I went over and drew the curtains, saying, "Don't panic or be afraid. I don't want to make a scene, lest it affect our reputations and ruin both our families."
He kept apologizing. I asked, "Do you love my wife?" He looked at me, then at my wife, and nodded, saying he did. I said, "Okay, since you love her, there's no need to apologize. Otherwise, you'd be betraying my wife." I asked
, "How many times have you two done it?" He said, "Twice since last Friday." I thought to myself, "That's right, it's my wife's ovulation period."
I said, "My wife is a proud person. The fact that you got her to sleep with you means you've conquered her. I only have one request now." He quickly agreed, saying he would grant me anything, as long as I forgave him. I said, "Doing it once is the same as doing it many times, so let's do it again in front of me. I want to see how you conquer my wife."
He looked hesitant. I said, "Don't you want to?" Suddenly, his wife, who had been silent all along, hugged him and kissed his neck and lips. Gradually, he became aroused. His penis slowly revived, growing thicker and longer, and the glans seemed eager to rise. Soon, another erection reached its peak, the large glans round and shiny. He gradually loosened his grip and responded passionately, kissing his wife's neck and earlobes repeatedly.
His head slowly lowered, sucking on his wife's nipple, while one hand continuously stroked the base of her thighs. His wife slowly began to breathe heavily and moan. I saw fluid flowing from her vagina. He rubbed his wife's labia with his large palm, and sometimes inserted his thick middle finger into her vagina.
He wasn't in a hurry to enter. His head continued downwards, lifting his wife's feet and sucking on her toes, one by one. Then he buried his head between her legs, sometimes licking her clitoris with his tongue, sometimes gently biting it with his teeth, sometimes probing her vagina with his tongue—things I had never done before. I saw my wife's body stiffen, her buttocks arching upwards, desperately trying to accommodate him.
Seeing this, the man knew it was time to penetrate. He lay on top of his wife, his large glans probing her clitoris several times, but couldn't quite get in. I couldn't help but go over and hold his penis, thick and hot, with clear fluid constantly flowing from the urethral opening. With my help, his penis slid in with a soft "plop," tightly enveloping her.
The man wasn't in a hurry, but moved slowly and gently, thrusting in and out. A few minutes later, he rolled over with his wife in his arms, so that she was on top. He kept kneading her breasts with both hands. Sometimes his wife sat on him, allowing his penis to penetrate deeply, and she rubbed her hips back and forth and side to side. Sometimes she moved up and down, and you could see sticky fluid flowing down his penis.
After a while, the man sat up, holding his wife tightly in his arms. He slowly moved to the edge of the bed, then suddenly stood up on the floor with his wife in his arms. He supported her buttocks with both hands, and she clung tightly to his neck, her full breasts pressed against his chest. His thick penis was deeply inserted into her, becoming a support point. He sometimes used his hands to support her buttocks and moved up and down, and sometimes used the strength of his waist and hips to thrust forcefully.
The wife's moans grew louder, and suddenly she tightly hugged the man's back with both hands, biting his arm tightly. I saw that the wife's genitals were twitching incessantly; she had orgasmed. Mucus flowed continuously down the man's penis, wetting his scrotum, and then dripping onto the floor. After the wife's emotions calmed down a little, he gently placed her upper body on the bed, her buttocks on the edge. He knelt on the floor, hoisted the wife's legs onto his shoulders, and continued to thrust, his thick thumb constantly kneading her clitoris.
The wife's moans grew louder. He then made his wife kneel on the edge of the bed. Standing, he guided his penis into her vagina with one hand, holding her buttocks with both hands while rapidly thrusting his own hips, the sounds of flesh colliding echoing loudly. His scrotum bounced upwards with each movement, then slammed against her vaginal opening.
Sweat streamed down the man's back, his body glistening with oil, making him exceptionally sensual. After a while, they lay down together, his wife facing away from him. He supported one of her legs with one hand and wrapped the other around her neck, inserting himself from behind. Although the penetration wasn't very deep, it was quite effective. His wife's clitoris sometimes turned outwards and sometimes retracted with each thrust.
Finally, they returned to the missionary position. The man showed no mercy, thrusting relentlessly, faster and harder, shaking the ground. His wife screamed, her body arching upwards and then falling back down. At this moment, the man roared, and I saw his penis bulging and contracting beneath his anus.
It took about twenty or thirty seconds to calm down. Two or three minutes later, the man's penis slowly softened, and the glans slowly slid out of the vaginal opening. He rolled over and lay on his back, panting heavily. His pubic hair was wet. I said to him, "You slept with my wife, you have to leave something behind." He said, "You can have whatever you want, as long as it doesn't hurt me."
I said, "I'm going to shave your pubic hair." He nodded. I took out a razor and shaved the pubic hair on his lower abdomen clean, putting it in a sealed bag. It was already dawn. I patted him and said, "You guys rest for a bit. I'll go downstairs to make breakfast. Your coworkers should be here soon."
I went downstairs and stir-fried a large plate of shredded pork for them, fried two eggs for each of them, and cooked a large bowl of shredded pork noodles for each of them. Ten days later, the construction project at my house was completed, and the man went to work elsewhere with his coworkers.
A month later, my wife told me she was pregnant. Later, the man came twice more. Once, I wasn't home, and the man asked my wife if it was his child. My wife denied it outright, saying, "We've already wronged my husband enough; I can't wrong him again."
Later, I asked my wife how he explained the pubic hair issue to her. She said he told her that in hot weather, she sweats easily, and her lower abdomen is often damp, soaking her pants, which is unsightly and can cause rashes, so he shaved it.
Another time, after the New Year, when my wife was five months pregnant, he brought his wife and daughter. Partly to thank us, saying he had never encountered such good employers during his work. Partly to say goodbye, saying he was going to work in Africa for about three years.
Four months later, my wife gave birth to a healthy, chubby son. I was overjoyed. More importantly, the child's features resembled my wife's very much; the son resembles the mother, meaning we wouldn't have to worry about money and wouldn't have any future troubles.
From then on, I became obsessed with stories about cuckoldry. Scenes of the man and his wife making love constantly flashed through my mind. Once, I told my wife, "Life is short, life is unpredictable, life should be enjoyed to the fullest. I can't always be by your side. If you need someone else, you can find someone else, as long as your heart doesn't stray, you don't break up this family, and you don't ruin your reputation."
My wife asked if it was true. I said yes, my wife's happiness is my life goal, my joy is my happiness. But you have to tell me who that man is. To this day, there is no such man. Now my son is three years old and in kindergarten.
Last week, my parents came and said, "Now that your circumstances are better, could you consider having another child? Two children, so you won't be lonely and will have each other for support, that would be great."
I smiled bitterly and said, "Yes, two children are good."

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The cuckoldry after fertilization

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