My experience with my wife

Summer is gradually fading, and the increasing temperature difference between day and night in the north has caused my wife to gradually shed her

clothes , and my vision has entered a period of icy cold.

I know that in the north, the best season for revealing clothing is summer, because the body can be outdoors with

very little without feeling cold. Walking through the streets of the commercial district in summer, the dazzling array of goods is not only overwhelming,

but also the trendy young women dressed in novel styles, their individuality being their trademark. Their

movements form a beautiful scene in the summer.

If only it were summer… But unfortunately, the world seems to have no "ifs," only "buts." But summer

is gone, gone again and again. Perhaps I should wait? I don't know.

Spring brings life, summer brings growth, autumn brings harvest, winter brings storage.

Summer is long; it seems summer is truly a season for wild abandon.

Unfortunately, it's autumn now. Should I really rein in my unrestrained behavior? I'm unwilling to give up. I still

feel that opportunities for enjoyment are everywhere, but I lack the ability to discover them and the imagination.

Continuing to write my story.

**********

... "Isn't this place expensive, honey? You've spent money again." My wife is frugal, not the kind of materialistic woman who only knows how to spend her husband's money. "A man should be ruthless with his woman," I joked. "Something doesn't sound quite right," my wife twisted her head, "It's a bit awkward, like the mafia." "Okay, go with the guide to take a shower later, then find me at the restaurant downstairs." I patted my wife's round and firm breasts; even her casual trousers felt so good to the touch. My wife turned around and gave me a flirtatious glance: "You're so annoying." I pretended to shiver. My wife chuckled again. My wife took the elevator to the second floor, to the women's bathhouse. I went straight to the first floor, to the men's bathhouse. Standing under the shower, I shampooed my hair and then lathered myself with shower gel. Foam slowly emerged, its colorful, shimmering bubbles reflecting the warm, multicolored light streaming down from the ceiling. It seemed as if countless naked wives were spinning and making various movements within, as if enticing me to help them complete the intermediate stage of procreation, a process of Chinese reproduction, and then, filled with a sense of mission . I fantasized. Sitting in the rotating pool, I felt a pleasant heat. My body felt like it was floating, my blood rushing . I felt it surging like waves, propelling me to the crest. I sat on the second step, my head resting on it, imagining my wife now, eyes closed, picturing her . She must have just finished showering and was being scrubbed by the maid, her smooth, rounded buttocks being squeezed and deformed under the maid's hands, back and forth, her skin springing back to its original position after the maid released her. Then she would turn red, like a blooming rose. *Smack, smack*, a hand slapped down, striking my wife's buttocks, making her skin even redder. My wife bent over , letting out a low, excited growl: "Slap my butt harder, I want..." I wished I were a bathhouse attendant, fantasizing about becoming one. After showering, I changed into disposable pajamas. I took the elevator straight to the fourth-floor buffet restaurant. Another middle-aged man entered the elevator with me. He was burly and had a thuggish air about him. Passing the third floor, a voluptuous woman entered. The man stepped forward and greeted her: "Sister-in-law, you came alone ? Third Brother isn't here." "That bastard's off having fun somewhere," she replied. The man, with his arm around her slender waist, roughly slipped his hand inside the shorts covering her full buttocks , pinching it before pulling it out. "You jerk, never seen a woman before?" she muttered, but didn't refuse, slapping the man's shoulder . "No, I was afraid Third Brother didn't satisfy you." "Then you feed me, I'll kill you." This adulterous couple flirted naturally and harmoniously, as if no one else was around, their voices carrying clearly into my ears. I cursed under my breath and went to the fourth-floor buffet restaurant. The two of them separated to find their respective friends, as if nothing had happened. Like two flies greeting each other, they went off to find their food. I looked around for my wife and saw a familiar figure ahead. She wore a white nightgown, the top resembling a judo uniform with a drawstring waist. The nightgown covered her alluring, hemispherical breasts, and the two barely visible black nipples indicated she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Below, she wore white shorts an inch above the knee, concealing her round, protruding buttocks , which were quite suggestive. My wife's clothes were clearly provided free of charge, somewhat transparent. This beauty was my wife, hehe. Just as I was about to speak, a clumsy young man across from my wife, who was carrying a tray, bumped into it hard. A bowl of freshly ladled millet porridge spilled onto her, the warm rice water splashing everywhere. My wife cried out and instinctively flinched back, but the rice water had already soaked her fabric. Some grains of rice clung to the fabric, while some dripped down from the slit in her bodice, instantly revealing an alluring scene: a transparent, wet garment, clearly showing her nipples and the shape of her breasts.

The wife, burning from the warm rice water, kept wiping away

the rice grains . Some of the scalding rice grains slid into her clothes, but she seemed oblivious to her problem.

Her chest was slightly red from the heat. She hurriedly untied the rope around her waist to remove the warm rice grains from her body,

relieving the burning pain.

The young man beside her watched, stunned, until the wife loosened her belt and the hot rice grains were removed.

Only then did he look up. Her two hemispherical breasts hung perfectly in her open clothes, nipples flushed

red, areolas pink, proudly supporting their nipples. From a distance, they looked like a beautiful work of art.

"Ah!"

The wife realized he was staring at her. She quickly pulled her wet clothes shut, hugged

her chest , took a step back, and turned slightly to the side.

"What did you do? You got me all covered in rice porridge, and you were peeping at me!"

"No, I'm sorry, miss." The young man, looking apologetic, blushed and replied, "I... I didn't

mean to ."

At this point, not many people around had noticed the incident; everyone was busy looking for their favorite

food.

Seeing this, I stepped forward.

"Honey, he got me all covered in porridge, boohoo,"

my wife whined.

"I'm sorry, miss. I really didn't mean to," the young man continued, blushing as he apologized.

"Since he didn't mean to, let him off the hook. Let's go find a waiter to change our clothes."

My wife reluctantly led me to the floor service desk, explained the situation, and waited for the waiter

to bring us another set of pajamas.

The waiter brought the same set of clothes, and my wife turned and went into a side room.

A little while later, my wife, having finished, gracefully emerged, fully recovered.

"Honey, there's so much delicious food!" My wife looked around the food with a greedy expression.

"Honey, there's hot pot over here."

My wife loves hot pot, and she can even handle spicy food.

Wow, my wife heard me! She seemed to teleport, disappearing from

the sidelines of a regular restaurant one minute and reappearing at the self-service hot pot the next – quite an exaggeration, haha.

A short while later, she returned to the hot pot table, laden with various ingredients. All sorts of vegetables and

meats were there.

Whenever hot pot is involved, my wife's appetite is absolutely irresistible; she eats like a madwoman. Her usual demure demeanor

vanishes instantly. And soon you'll witness her swift and decisive eating.

"What are you looking at? Hurry up and put the food in the pot!" my

wife urged.

We each had a small pot, and hers was already full.

I clumsily picked up some beef from my small hot pot…

My wife's hot pot was boiling, the water bubbling like a geyser, the vegetables and meat already

cooked .

"Is this place taken? Can I sit here?"

I looked up and saw the clumsy young man from before carrying his hot pot ingredients to my side.

"No, no, please sit here," I replied.

I wondered if this young man was interested in my wife. Looking around, there were still empty seats inside,

and the table was large enough for three people. Glancing at him out of the corner of

my eye, I had to admit he was quite handsome.

I'd been so focused on my wife when I bumped into someone that I hadn't really noticed him.

My wife glanced at him indifferently, then lowered her head again, continuing what she considered enjoyable,

but which others found terrifying.

(Oops, while I was typing, my wife hit me on the head from behind with something hard. I was just telling the truth, *

crying*)

Soon, my wife had almost finished scooping the food from her small pot. She was savoring it

, her forehead sweating profusely, her chest damp—I couldn't tell if it was from sweat or steam from the hot pot. Anyway, her damp

clothes clung to her body.

My wife leaned back slightly, and I suddenly noticed that her

chest nipples were pressing against her clothes, and the shape of her areolas and breasts was clearly visible.

The difference was that my wife didn't immediately notice and continued bustling about happily.

Near the hot pot ingredients section, some people were picking out their favorites, and some plates of ingredients were almost

empty.

"Honey, I'll go get some more ingredients," she said, then ran off to the hot pot ingredients section without looking back,

her breasts bouncing like little rabbits inside her transparent clothes—a rather spectacular sight.

The guy who had been staring at my wife's wet, transparent clothes earlier followed

her .

"Vulgar man, never seen playboy before?" I muttered to myself.

The guy busied himself beside my wife, his eyes constantly darting to her shapely breasts.

Meanwhile, other men picking out food along the way also glanced at her.

My nearsighted wife remained completely oblivious.

I couldn't stand it anymore, so I grabbed a dry towel from the side service desk and went to my wife. "Go wipe

your sweat."

My wife picked up the towel and wiped her head, then looked down and blushed. "What kind of lousy fabric is this?"

she muttered as she headed for the restroom.

After using the restroom and finishing up, I came back to check. This time, the fabric had

mostly , and the stain wasn't as noticeable.

We ate something else before going up to the fifth-floor rest area. This floor had two large public

rest areas, each accommodating dozens of people to relax and watch movies on a big screen. There were single and

double beds. There were also a few smaller rest rooms.

My wife pulled me into the public rest area first. Then we found a double bed against the wall.

"So comfortable," my wife said, lying down.

"Come on, young man, give your grandma a foot massage,"

my wife said, laughing at me.

"You little brat, a foot massage? I'll kill you!"

I pounced on her.

The movie in the lobby was very loud, drowning out our laughter.

"That's so comfortable." My wife tossed and turned on the sofa bed, the drawstring of her top a little loose.

"Honey, cover your back with this."

I grabbed a large towel and covered our backs with it; it was actually quite warm in there, so the towel made it a little warmer.

It wasn't cold.

The big screen seemed to be showing a romance movie; I glanced at it out of the corner of my eye.

My wife is nearsighted and couldn't see, but she could hear clearly.

It sounded like Titanic.

"Honey, kiss me," my wife responded

, her lips meeting mine. I immediately responded, and we hugged each other tightly. We were covered by a towel, and our affectionate

actions didn't attract much attention; everyone was used to it.

My wife was enjoying my kisses with her eyes closed. I loosened the drawstring of her shirt, caressed her breasts for a while,

then slipped my hand inside her shorts, squeezing her full buttocks and occasionally touching her

inner thighs. My wife was so comfortable she almost forgot herself; she was a little wet down there.

I suddenly pulled off her shorts, and she opened her eyes in surprise: "There are too many people here. Stop it."

"Sir, would you like to sit down?"

a woman asked, walking to the side and approaching a bed in front of her.

Suddenly, an idea popped into my head.

"Honey, you rest for a bit, I'm going to the restroom."

I walked away with my wife's phone in my hand, glancing back at her as if she were looking for mine.

I went out of the lobby to the service counter, bought a bottle of water, and then told the clerk next to me to order

a leg massage and foot massage for the lady in the last row against the wall. My last name is X, this is my name tag, I'm her husband. The

clerk noted down my name tag and then picked up the phone.

Then I went back to the lobby and lay down on a sofa bed very close to my wife, looking at her beside me. My wife

didn't notice me, probably because she couldn't find it, and was resting under a towel.

A young waiter carrying a basket of tools approached my wife. "Miss, a

gentleman named X just ordered a foot massage and leg massage for you."

My wife picked up her phone and called me. I had it on vibrate and answered it from the side.

"Honey, you ordered a foot massage for me, but I can't find mine."

"You stay here, I'll come back and help you find it."

Then I hung up the phone.

I watched my wife lying there, then looked at the waiter and said, "Okay, you can begin."

I then covered my back with my legs.

The waiter skillfully took out his tools, wrapped one foot with a towel, and then expertly applied Vaseline to

the other foot…

My wife comfortably closed her eyes.

I moved the blanket and noticed that the drawstring of my wife's top was peeking out from the side.

I watched with great interest; the real show was just beginning.

After finishing the foot massage, the waiter massaged my wife's legs. After finishing her calves, when the waiter's hand

reached for her thighs, my wife's face flushed.

When the waiter quickly pushed his hands towards the base of her thighs, the young man looked surprised, then

looked down at my wife's face. She was turned away, blushing, and didn't say anything.

The young man tried pushing upwards a couple more times and then asked, "Miss, is this pressure okay?"

"Yes, yes. It's fine,"

my wife stammered, still with her eyes closed.

The young man seemed encouraged and first looked around.

He pushed and shoved his hands back and forth on my wife's inner thighs .

I saw my wife pick up her phone, hesitate, and then put it down again.

"Miss, please turn over."

My wife obediently turned over, her naked lower body under the blanket.

The young man first made a few symbolic shoves on her thighs, then grabbed my wife's buttocks with real force

and began to knead them. I saw my wife's buttocks being squeezed and deformed in his hands, then spread apart, revealing her

beautiful anus and the silvery glint of her vulva. My wife's face was flushed as she pursed her lips, opening and closing them again, as if

she wanted to scream but was afraid to make a sound. Because we were in the last row, against the wall, and the light was dim, no one

noticed the erotic scene.

This waiter was going too far; wasn't he using professional techniques to seduce people?

I picked up the phone and called my wife: "Honey, I just saw a classmate, chatted for a while, and will be back

soon ."

I saw my wife say to the waiter, "Okay, that's all for today."

Then she fastened her shirt again, grabbed a towel, and wrapped herself up. She lay there gracefully, half-reclined,

as if nothing had happened.

I walked out of the hall from the side and returned to the bedside. I went over and said, "I ran into an old classmate. He was just

coming over and asked me to go upstairs to play mahjong. We chatted for a while, but I told him I had to come with my wife, so I got off."

"It's okay, you can play for a while if you like. I can rest first."

I secretly laid my wife down next to the blanket and said, "Honey, are you thirsty? I'll go

buy water."

My wife nodded.

I walked towards the side door, glancing back as I went. I saw my wife tidying up the blanket and hurriedly

putting on her clothes.

I walked out of the hall and saw that it was already 12:30.

I ran into the waiter who had served my wife, who was chatting with another waiter.

"Just now, there was a naked woman who asked me to give her to her. My buddy groped her a lot, and she was

moaning with pleasure. In the end, I even wanted to fuck her. If I hadn't been short on time, I definitely would have."

I came back and handed my wife a bottle of Master Kong mineral water.

My wife took the drink and downed a third of it in one gulp; apparently, she'd lost quite a bit of fluids earlier, haha.

"Honey, I want to rest,"

she mumbled.

"Then you go to sleep first,"

I replied.

"There are too many people here, the lights are too bright, and the TV is too noisy,"

I said. "Do you have your usual eye mask with you?"

she asked. "It's in my purse,"

I said. "Let me get it for you."

A short while later, I retrieved the black eye mask for her from my purse in the downstairs cabinet.

A friend had brought it back from abroad; it had a soft liquid inside.

It was very comfortable to wear and helped improve sleep quality.

As I came up, I saw a couple emerge from the last rest room. The man was

holding a phone. "Brother, my wife and I are coming upstairs right away. You can set up your cards first."

Back with my wife, I explained that the small rest room was empty. My wife was very happy.

My wife and I packed our clothes and phones and walked out of the lobby. Just then, that brazen

guy from the restaurant walked towards us. As we left, we felt like he was following us again, which was really annoying.

My wife and I went into the room. I closed the door slightly, but not completely; we could see

the light from the bathroom across the hall through a crack. There were two double beds facing the door, separated by a wooden board.

We lay down on one bed, and my wife took out an eye mask and put it on.

I held my wife and then removed her clothes. After some caresses, my wife was already panting

heavily .

Suddenly, I saw a dark figure outside the door, moving into the room.

At that moment, a lustful idea immediately popped into my head.

"Honey, can we listen to some music?"

Without waiting for a reply, I plugged the earphones from my wife's music phone into her ears and turned the volume up

.

"Are you trying to kill me with the noise?"

Heh, the volume was a bit too loud. I turned it down a notch.

Then I continued to caress my wife. Seeing her wearing a black blindfold, I thought of

games from SM scenarios. I picked up the string from her clothes and tied her hands behind her back. Sometimes I

did this at home, and my wife liked it.

At this moment, my blindfolded wife propped herself up on the bed with her head, her full buttocks and her open, stockings facing

me. She continued to moan softly, "Husband, fuck me, I want your penis."

The dark figure outside was watching everything through the crack in the door. I saw it out of the corner of my eye, and I knew who it was.

Just then, a spam phone rang, rang once, and then hung up.

I picked up the phone and said to my wife, "I'm going to the bathroom."

Then I walked towards the door.

I saw the dark figure immediately walk in and leave. I hesitated for a moment before leaving the room, mentally calculating

everything. In the end, my actions were just like those in other novels of this kind. I knew this was the first

time , but there was no turning back.

I pretended to take out the phone and said loudly, "Boss, set up the cards first, I'll be right up."

Then I walked towards the corner.

It was already 1:30 AM. Most people were asleep, and there was no one around.

I turned the corner, peeked out, and saw the guy in the dark peering through the crack in the door for a few seconds

before waving towards the toilet. A blond guy followed him out, and the two quietly went inside. Damn,

there's another one.

I immediately went to the toilet. This guy was so brazen; the door was wide open, and the two of them were doing it with their backs to the door

. The blond guy wasn't tall, but he was very muscular, like a fitness instructor.

My wife sensed someone beside her and said, "Honey, fuck me, I haven't gotten there yet."

They didn't say anything.

They just took turns touching my wife's sensitive areas.

I saw the guy pull out his shiny black penis and thrust it in hard. My wife let out a long "Ah!"

I could feel the pleasure coming from deep within her body. After a few more thrusts, my wife cried out, "Honey, fuck

me, harder, fuck me harder."

He remained silent, just holding my wife's large, white buttocks with both hands, moving quickly and mechanically. The impact of buttocks

and lower abdomen against each other made a rhythmic slapping sound.

My wife's head swayed, her hair flying through the air.

The guy kept grabbing at my wife's genitals, while the blond guy watched as he rapidly masturbated

, waiting his turn.

"Ah...ah...no, don't stop, ah...husband, you're squeezing my genitals so hard, ah, don't

stop."

This continued for a while, until he seemed close to climaxing, then he and the blond guy switched positions.

The blond guy wasn't fast, but each thrust penetrated deeply into my wife,

the impact of his lower abdomen against her buttocks becoming more forceful. With each thrust, my wife seemed very satisfied, moaning softly, the sound so loud I

worried it would wake the other wolves in the break room.

They switched back after a few minutes. This high-intensity exchange lasted

for about , until my wife could no longer moan, only her mouth opening and closing instinctively to express her feelings, her hair disheveled,

her juices flowing down her thighs and soaking the bed.

(Let's do a live interview, miss, what's your experience like? Well… I just want to say: one word

, comfortable; two words, really comfortable.)

At this moment, my wife, completely unaware, was receiving the obscene assault from two strange men

, her large buttocks thrusting forward. Suddenly, the young man forcefully grabbed her hair, causing her to arch backward in a near

-maximum S-shape. He then thrust in and out a dozen times, mercilessly ejaculating deep into her

vagina .

My wife's expression was now somewhat dazed, drool dripping from her mouth, as if her soul had been ripped away.

The blond-haired man then turned my wife around and sprayed her face and mouth with his semen,

leaving her face, mouth, and surrounding area a mess.

Although my wife was wearing a blindfold, her tongue unconsciously licked the area around her mouth, making it look

like something out of an adult film.

I went into the restroom. Through the curtain, I recognized the man—it was the one I met at the hotpot restaurant; the

blond-haired was probably his friend. They must have mistaken my wife for a prostitute.

After getting dressed, they quickly left. My wife lay there limply, silent, clearly

exhausted.

I rushed to the bedside and heard her say softly, "Honey, loosen the ropes, my hands are

sore."

I immediately did as she said. I released her and entered her again from behind.

"Honey, are you still going to do this? I'm about to fall apart! Are you not taking your pills today? I'm done. Waaah."

I ejaculated inside her shortly after and then fell asleep, exhausted.

When I woke up, I found myself in the lounge, not the small room.

Most of the people around had left.

My wife looked at me tenderly and said, "Last night you did it to me a few times,

and then just fell asleep without paying any attention to me. Doing it to me in the lounge with so many people around, I felt so embarrassed.

And then you didn't even say anything afterward. You bad boy. Let's go downstairs for breakfast."

It seems I had a dream, a dream of my wife being violated.

Many cuckolded men dream of their wives being violated, and I am one of them.

The scenes are so vivid in my mind, as if they just happened.

Perhaps our lives are just a dream.

We just don't know when we'll wake up. Or perhaps when we do wake up, we won't be ourselves anymore.

Am I still me? I kept asking myself this question, but

I couldn't find the answer.

"Honey, the way you put headphones and blindfolded me and tied the ropes around my neck last night was so exciting! Let's

do that again next time."

I'm dizzy. Was this a dream? I can't tell anymore.

[The End]

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