The Wife's Path to Depravity, Chapter 1

Chapter 1: An Unexpected Discovery
My career has been incredibly successful this past year. I just got promoted and was transferred to a coastal region to oversee an independent project. As the year draws to a close, my performance is soaring, and I'm a shoo-in for the annual Most Contributing Award. Moreover, as a leader who has retired from the company, I applied for a week's leave in advance for the Spring Festival, giving myself a break.
Sitting on the plane home, I started planning whether to take my wife of four years on a holiday this Spring Festival. Our plans to have a baby, which had been put on hold due to my career, could now be considered again. After all, my parents have been urging us for years, and we can't delay any longer.
This time, I didn't inform my wife, Feng Yun, beforehand. After landing, I booked a nice hotel by phone, intending to pick her up and have a romantic candlelight dinner together. Thinking about my wife, who has been a full-time housewife for the past year, I couldn't help but feel guilty and heartbroken.
I took a taxi home, but my wife wasn't there. Checking the time, she must have gone out to buy groceries. Looking at the clean and tidy house, I thought about the hardships we faced when we first got married, paying off the mortgage, and how hard my wife had worked alongside me to build our career. A warm feeling welled up inside me. Thinking this, I decided to call her to tell her I didn't need to go grocery shopping, but after dialing, I heard the phone ringing in the bedroom. It turned out she hadn't brought her phone. Reluctantly hanging up, I suddenly realized I couldn't unlock her phone. I was puzzled. My wife has always been careless and doesn't usually change her phone password. We used to use our wedding anniversary as the password, but I tried twice and couldn't unlock it.
I tried my birthday, my wife's birthday, even my parents-in-law's birthdays—nothing worked. I was really confused.
Sitting in front of the computer, I pondered why my wife had changed her password.
I inadvertently glanced at the computer's login screen and saw my wife's QQ username from her student days. Remembering her QQ password from when we were dating—it seemed to be her student ID number, an easy-to-remember number—I tried it on my phone. Although my memory was a bit hazy, I finally unlocked it after a few tries. I was puzzled that my wife would change her password, and curiosity drove me to investigate. So, I first opened her phone's photo album.
There weren't any particularly interesting photos, mostly everyday pictures of scenery and small animals. There were a few selfies of her dressed rather revealingly, but those were probably taken when I was out of town, just to tease me, and there was nothing suspicious about them. Next, I checked her text messages. Besides some conversations and subscribed news items, there wasn't much else. Scrolling through the screen, I saw that my wife had added two new apps: Momo and WeChat. When did she start using these social media apps? She hadn't told me this before, and my anxiety returned.
I opened WeChat, and the message window was empty, not a single message in the history. Looking at the contacts, they were all unfamiliar names; I didn't recognize anyone. Most were male, with the occasional female name appearing, but those were bizarre ones like "Wandering Butterfly" and "Green Tea Girl," interspersed with a bunch of emojis and symbols. Then I opened Momo, and the first thing I saw was my wife's nickname, "gc叠起的芸" (gc edging yun). This made my eyelids twitch. The letters "gc" and "叠起" together were obviously a homophone. But when I opened her photo album, it was full of revealing photos I'd never seen before. Some showed my wife's deep cleavage, some showed her legs in black stockings, and one was a topless photo of my wife in what looked like a hotel bathroom. Although she covered her breasts with her arms in the photo, the information it conveyed made me dizzy. The wife in the photos was no longer the woman I remembered. Her long hair was loose and exuded a mature charm, no longer the style I remembered with her hair tied up or casually pulled back. She wore heavy, flamboyant makeup, looking somewhat cold and alluring. Every photo showcased her seductive figure, mostly focusing on her upper body. I never knew my wife was so adept at displaying her charm, whether it was squeezing her breasts or exposing her flat stomach and beautiful legs. This wife felt completely foreign to me, so foreign that it felt as if our four-year marriage had been nothing but a pipe dream from the very beginning.
My hands began to grow cold, and my heart chilled, but I couldn't resist the urge and continued looking.
Clicking on her status update, the content of the photos was even more unbearable. I saw a stranger, my wife, gradually becoming increasingly lewd and obscene before my eyes. Finally, a photo of my wife topless appeared, accompanied by the caption: "Everyone says my breasts have been done, so I'm posting some photos to prove it." In the photo, my wife is squeezing her breasts hard, the round, teardrop-shaped flesh distorted by her grip, the rosy nipples clearly exposed. She's using this method to prove the authenticity of her breasts to strange men.
Scrolling through the screen, another photo shows my wife pulling down her panties, revealing a close-up of her thick pubic hair. In the picture, my wife is only wearing a white, semi-transparent pair of panties, revealing her smooth, fat-free abdomen. The panties barely cover her genitals, creating a subtly alluring effect. The accompanying caption reads: "Someone keeps complaining about my pubic hair, saying it makes me have a very high sex drive. Sigh, should I shave it off or not? I'm so worried!"
Who is "someone"? I'm certain I've never said anything like that to my wife. My bleeding heart has begun to numb, but these words still sting and twitch.
Explicit photos flooded the wives' social media posts and statuses. Some showed off their breasts with captions like "Auntie's here, my boobs hurt so much," while others wore black stockings and slightly sticked out their buttocks, saying "Someone gave me a pair of stockings, just showing them off a little." These posts were accompanied by a flood of comments, filled with obscene and vulgar language. These were the crude men who frequented Momo (a Chinese dating app), and in their eyes, their wives must be promiscuous and shameless women who sleep with anyone.
Someone said, "Beautiful lady, you're so slutty, it seems you need a lot of men's big dicks to satisfy you, right?"
My wife replied, "Quantity is important, but quality comes first!"
Someone said, "Looking at your slutty appearance, you must not have been fucked by a man in a long time, let me satisfy you."
My wife replied, "I'm very satisfied every day, little brother, you can take your time and wait in line."
Someone said, "Damn, you slut, are you selling yourself? Name your price, let's make an appointment, I really want to fuck you."
My wife replied, "You loser, take off your clothes and run around naked a few times, I might consider sending you a pair of used stockings to masturbate with."
The more I read, the sadder I became. I gradually felt suffocated. I never thought my wife would have such a side. Although my wife usually has a lively personality, she is always well-mannered in front of me and my family. As my career has taken off, she has exuded a noble and elegant temperament when she accompanies me to various banquets and occasions. How could such a perfect woman have fallen to this state?
My wife is 4 years younger than me, 27 this year, a tempting and mature age. She grew up in a well-off family, and in recent years, with our financial situation improved, she has started to pay attention to fitness and skincare. She practiced dance in her student days, and in the last two years, out of boredom at home, she has also started learning yoga. She takes extra care of her skin. The beautiful figure she shows on Momo is indeed something to be proud of. So when did she start to become so depraved and lewd?
While feeling heartbroken, I suddenly realized that my lower body had become incredibly hard. My brother's first ejaculation was so intense that it was almost painful. Seeing my wife like this, this scene of being exposed in front of strangers, actually aroused me greatly! Reflecting on our sex life over the past two years, as I've gotten older, I've felt increasingly powerless in bed. Although there's a passion that feels like a honeymoon after returning from work, my physical strength and ability have undeniably declined. Sometimes, even when my wife shows a seductive and wanton demeanor, I lose interest. However, after this unexpected discovery, I entered a state of indescribable excitement. This made me wonder if, subconsciously, I actually crave my wife's infidelity?
I've read articles about wife-swapping and cuckolding online, and these things do have a strange stimulation for me. Sometimes I fantasize that my wife is the heroine in a novel, but it's just a fantasy. I never thought that such a thing would actually happen now, and that my wife would begin to fall into depravity behind my back.
I'm certain my wife has been unfaithful. Based on some clues, I suspect she's having an affair, not just a one-night stand. This makes me worry that she might leave this house and me if she has another lover.
Just as I was feeling anxious, my wife sent me a WeChat message: "My darling, where are you? You promised to pick me up at the station, don't stand me up! I'll be there in half an hour. I'm going to fuck you to heaven at your house today."
My heart skipped a beat. My wife had arranged to meet someone at home today. This made me feel incredibly awkward. What should I do? Should I confront her at home, revealing the truth, or pretend I don't know and force her to stop? I was torn. Suddenly, I realized that even after learning the truth, I wasn't filled with uncontrollable rage. Do I really have a fetish for watching my wife being violated? But I had no time to doubt. It seemed my wife had gone to pick up her lover. Forgetting her phone, she wouldn't have expected my sudden return, nor would she have suspected I'd discovered the secrets on her phone. Should I confront her? A confrontation might mean my wife leaving, and my family collapsing. Should I pretend nothing happened?
I was caught in a dilemma. For some reason, I suddenly recalled a cuckoldry story I'd read before, where the man, discovering his wife's infidelity, hid in the closet to spy on her. This thought, once it surfaced, quickly became uncontrollable. The idea of witnessing my wife's betrayal and infidelity, of seeing her being played with by another man, grew stronger and stronger in my mind. Driven by this thought, I inexplicably started packing. I put away my shoes and briefcase, hid the luggage I'd brought back on the balcony, erased all traces of my return, and then hid in the small storage room next to the bedroom.
The storage room was a completely partitioned space, but a ventilation window connected it to the bedroom and balcony. The storage room had a two-tiered shelving design; from the second shelf, one could see the entire bedroom through the ventilation window. The storage room was dusty and filled with old junk. My wife rarely came in. I cleaned it up, leaving enough space on the second shelf for me to lie down, then put my phone on silent mode and climbed up to wait quietly. The
wait was incredibly agonizing. My mind was a mess. I couldn't even understand why I was in this state, why I was so excited, why I was lying in this dark corner waiting for my wife to be with another man. What was I expecting? Was I expecting to witness my wife's lewdness, something she wouldn't normally show me? Nearly an hour passed in this chaotic thinking until the sound of the door opening and my wife's laughter brought me back to reality.
I clearly heard my wife talking to another man; this man was called "The Gentleman" in my wife's WeChat contact.
His wife said, "You, you better watch yourself from now on. You were already touching me like that downstairs, almost letting the neighbors see. If you do that again, don't come here again."
The roguish man replied, "What's there to be afraid of, sis? These days, no one will gossip if they see us. You look so alluring today, I really wanted to rip your skirt off and fuck you right there downstairs. My big dick has been hard ever since you told me you weren't wearing underwear today."
Then a rustling sound came from behind, followed by his wife saying, "..." "Wait, wait, go take a shower first, you smell awful all that sweat."
The gentleman laughed, "What's there to be shy about? Oh, you're all soaking wet. Let's take a bath together first, wouldn't that be nice?"
Then came the wife's dissatisfaction and the two of them pushing and shoving each other. Soon, there was silence, but I could faintly hear the wife's soft moans and suppressed groans in her throat. It seemed they were kissing in the living room. Sure enough, a moment later, I heard the sound of the coffee table being bumped, and two somewhat disordered footsteps slowly approaching the bedroom. When the footsteps passed the small door of the storage room, my heart suddenly tightened. Before I could recover, the two figures appeared in my sight. I think I will never forget this scene for the rest of my life.
Through the ventilation window, I saw my wife and the gentleman embracing each other, kissing as they moved. My wife was wearing a low-cut tank top today, revealing a deep cleavage, and a beige mini-skirt. The skirt had been lifted up to her waist by the man, exposing her naked lower body. Just as he had said, she hadn't worn underwear.
My wife wasn't particularly voluptuous; she was rather slender, but her hips were quite exaggerated. Her pelvis was wide, and her hip bones were broad, giving the impression of a large bottom from behind. Her yoga practice over the past two years had made her buttocks round and firm, very perky even without consciously sticking them out. In bed, my favorite position was for my wife to be on all fours with her buttocks raised—it looked incredibly seductive. Now, her elastic buttocks were being wantonly kneaded by a stranger.
The man was a dark-skinned, burly man, slightly shorter than me, about 173 cm tall, but incredibly strong, with bulging muscles on his forearms like blocks of iron. The two moved to the bedside .
The man, somewhat impatient, turned his wife over and pressed her onto the bed. His wife was now lying face down, her buttocks raised, her back arched, in my favorite doggy-style position. Her legs were slightly parted, exposing her entire genitals to the man's view, completely exposed. From my angle, I could see her vulva; that tender, plump area was already glistening with moisture, muddy and wet.
My wife's body was very sensitive. I had once given her a slight orgasm simply by kissing her breasts. Now, the passion of their affair, combined with the man's rough caresses and teasing, had her in a state of wanton lust, ready to be penetrated at any moment.
The man didn't even have time to take off his clothes; he quickly unbuckled his belt, pulled his pants down to his knees, and thrust his thick, dark penis directly into his wife's vagina with great force, all the way to the bottom. His wife groaned "Oh," taking a deep breath; clearly, this rough penetration gave her immense pleasure. The man began to thrust vigorously, his lower abdomen slamming against his wife's buttocks with each stroke, filling the bedroom with loud "slap slap" sounds.
"Slut, little slut, your pussy is so amazing, oh, yes, yes, squeeze me tight, watch me fuck you to death, ah..." The man's hands gripped his wife's slender waist tightly, thrusting even harder.
"Mmm...so good, so good, good brother, fuck me, fuck your little slut to death, play with my pussy, ah, ah...so hard...ah, faster, harder, mmm..."

At this moment, his wife, with the man's strength, had completely gone limp on the bed, her round buttocks pressed firmly against the edge of the bed, her plump buttocks bearing the force of each impact. Her hands stretched forward, gripping the sheets tightly, her moans gradually turning from muffled panting to high-pitched, heavy breathing accompanied by intermittent cries of pleasure. I knew she was entering the climax stage.
The man thrust even faster, and the sounds of water clearly emanating from their joined bodies began to fill the air. Suddenly, he raised his hand and slapped his wife's large buttocks hard. The blow sent a shiver through her body. He continued to slap her buttocks, the sounds growing louder until they were visibly red. She threw her head back and screamed, her body trembling uncontrollably, her hips convulsing rapidly. My wife had been brought to orgasm by this stranger.
"I'll fuck you to death, you slut, ah...so tight, baby, squeeze me tight, ah...coming..."
With each of my wife's orgasms, her vagina would tighten in waves. The man, still thrusting rapidly, was intensely stimulated and began his final thrusts. After a few strokes, his buttocks tightened, and he shuddered. I could imagine thick streams of semen shooting into my wife's body.
[To be continued]

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The Wife's Path to Depravity, Chapter 1

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