An irresistible green hat

Before we got married, she told me that marrying her was the greatest blessing I had ever received in my past lives. I laughed and told her it was the greatest blessing I had ever received in my past lives. At that time, her company had received venture capital, so business was booming, and she was traveling more for financial reasons. By chance, I discovered that she had brought condoms from home with her during her business trips. This happened two years ago, and I never imagined it would happen to me. My wife studied finance; her education level isn't high, just a college diploma. She's petite with great skin.
I met her through an introduction. I was 33 and she was 30. She was still unmarried at that age because she had high standards. She had a boyfriend in college, but they broke up two years after graduation, apparently because he didn't earn much money. She never told me any of this in detail. She's rather
introverted and blushes easily. Her everyday style isn't particularly trendy; before marriage, she loved wearing jeans, but she doesn't wear them much anymore. She's a bit fuller after marriage, but not fat. Even though she dresses casually, she exudes an undeniable sexiness—a sexiness that's not intentional but innate. Although she's petite, her voice is deep. Overall, she reminds me of a mature Tao Huimin. Later, I learned through other channels that someone had fought with her at school because of his pursuit of her. This person was her high school classmate, who even attended our wedding, but reportedly looked very upset and left before the ceremony ended.
This isn't a fictional story; it's my completely real experience of being cheated on. This isn't partner swapping or any other pleasurable experience; it's the utter defeat of a man, unable to satisfy his wife, while another man takes her place. My wife isn't a "slut" type of woman, and this isn't some fantasy or a fictional story; this is reality—it's so real and so painfully painful. It completely shattered my self-esteem.
The high school classmate who pursued her had been involved in a knife fight in high school, but because of his family's connections, he didn't end up with a job. Later, his family funded a company for him in Beijing, which did quite well, so he was considered a... I once asked my wife why she didn't want to marry the classmate who was pursuing her and later became wealthy. She said, "He has to be someone I'm good enough for." While my wife believed she couldn't marry a poor guy, she also didn't want to marry a rich man without education. Fortunately, my family is in Beijing, and I'm a graduate student. Besides, she was already 30 and getting a little anxious, so she married me.
At the time, I was deeply moved . As described, because the use of this is obvious. Either she knows she'll have sex with other men, or she's mentally prepared for the possibility of having sex with other men. At the time, I didn't know whether to call her immediately or wait until she got home to ask. Later, I still calculated to wait until she got home to ask. That time she was away on a business trip for two days, which were two sleepless nights for me. I was worried sick every day. I tried my best to act normal, but the feelings inside were indescribable.
The day she returned from her business trip, I picked her up from the airport. The 40-minute drive home felt like a long journey to me. When we got home, she was unpacking in our bedroom, and I asked her why she brought condoms on her trip. Her face immediately changed, but then she said the condoms were in the bedside table and asked why I was asking her that. I said I was asking about her spare box—it was in the very back of the third drawer of her dressing table—I knew she had taken a box with her. Her next reaction was very angry; she asked why I had casually checked her closet and rummaged through her belongings. Actually, I had the right to look in her closet, and I only discovered it by accident. At this point, I also acted quite angry. Then she admitted that she had indeed brought condoms. The moment I was away on a business trip while pregnant struck, it shattered my emotions like a thunderbolt. Then came nearly 20 minutes of staring at each other. Since our marriage, I had never spoken harshly to her, and we had been married for almost three years. I asked her why, and she said I held no appeal for her anymore, and our sex life was too dull.
She said he was her colleague, also married, and that initially they were just good friends, but then everything changed.
I started insisting she tell me who that colleague was, even begging her to tell me. She finally told me it was her boss, Wang—and that I had even met him. Hearing that it was him, I felt a wave of nausea, like I was going to vomit. Her boss was indeed incredibly charming, over 1.8 meters tall, very large, and an exceptionally mature man. Their company had 1000... He negotiated the $10,000 venture capital investment.
I remember meeting him; he was very polite to me, but this same man had taken my wife's body.
That night, I slept in the living room, barely able to sleep. The next morning, I didn't even look my wife in the eye. She went to work as usual, but I couldn't calm down because I knew she would see him again. That evening, she called to say she would be home late due to work; when she returned, she seemed happy and sympathetic towards my distress. I asked her how she got home so late, and she said Wang drove her home.
She looked me in the eye as she spoke, and I felt nauseous and rushed to the bathroom to vomit. After I finished, she had already gone to bed and turned off the light. I slept alone in the living room, tossing and turning all night, thinking about what she had done... Her words, and her eyes.
Over the next week, we talked many times. I knew my wife wasn't considering divorce or moving out, and she knew she had no future with Wang. Wang was married with children and unwilling to divorce, and there was something she disliked—Wang smoked. They were just good friends, and they discovered their situations were similar—Wang's wife couldn't attract him, couldn't satisfy him in bed. Therefore, my wife and Wang's friendship naturally developed into a sexual relationship.
Ultimately, we didn't divorce. The situation continued to unfold. My wife still had a strong attraction for me, I still loved her deeply, and I didn't want my parents to suffer such an attack. We barely talked about it; I was afraid that if I tried to stop her, she would leave me. I even knew she had told Wang what I knew about their relationship. I don't know how many times before, after being intimate with Wang during the day, she would come home and sleep next to me.
Almost a year passed like this, and I became more aware that I didn't want to be separated from my wife. And I felt that a large part of my wife's life was something I couldn't truly access or understand. Her work attire, while still appropriate for the workplace, was more sexy, and she seemed more confident. As for myself, I became more infatuated with her, and I told her I approved of their continued relationship. However, my request was that she tell me the details of their relationship—such as the planning of their dates and the work they did together. My wife agreed to my request, and our relationship gradually improved. I knew when they were together, and she would tell me what they did. This made us both happy, but our sex life decreased compared to before; sometimes they were completely insane. Ding Yilu's location wasn't convenient, so I suggested to my wife that we could have a guest at our house. If they came over, I could make room for them.
My wife said she would consider it. One morning, I was taking a shower when my wife peeked in and asked if I could agree to have a guest over that morning. This was the first time I had to say yes, and I knew what was about to happen in my own home. She planned not to go to work that morning. I overheard her calling Wang, saying he could come, and that I would be back at work in half an hour.
That morning at work, I felt a deep emotional pain; I couldn't work at all because I had to say yes, even though I didn't want this to happen. Around noon, my wife called me, saying she was going to work immediately. Although we both knew what had happened, we didn't say a word. Ten minutes later, I couldn't control myself anymore and drove home as fast as I could.
I rushed home and saw two used cups in the dining room, and the toilet seat in the bathroom was open.
I opened the cabinet where the condoms were kept and saw that the lid of the box inside was open, and there was an open, empty tin bag next to it. Then I went back to the bathroom and found a used, crumpled piece of toilet paper in the wastebasket—it was wet. I picked it up and opened it to find his semen inside, not yet fully absorbed (I later learned that this piece of paper was to prevent leakage; after my wife got up, the semen started to leak out, so she used the toilet paper to wipe it and prevent more from seeping out).
The reality before me filled me with heart-wrenching jealousy, bitterness, and sorrow.
I noticed that the crotch of her underwear was soaked, clearly with semen. But the semen wasn't completely white or clear; it was more yellow and viscous, and the smell had a sweaty odor and—it's hard to find a suitable adjective—a "ripe" smell. This was the first time I had ever seen a mixture of male and female secretions. This liquid and smell gave me a strange, intense pleasure, a pleasure mixed with shame and humiliation—who else would look for signs of their wife's infidelity by checking her underwear like this? But after this, I often checked her underwear after she went to sleep. Underwear. Finally, one day she realized what was happening, and I thought she would be unusually excited—she definitely showed disgust, but she also admitted it was "pornographic" and "erotic." She asked me what I was doing with her underwear. I told her I smelled the scent of her semen and bodily fluids, and she asked if I had licked it. I told her no, and she then said she could imagine how stimulating it would be if I licked it, and then she went back to bed.
Soon after, I gradually changed too. One day, she came home late from work and said she was too tired. I don't have the strength to tell you the story—I'll tell you tomorrow. And then she was hurt. I saw her clothes off in the closet, and her underwear off in the bathroom. I've always enjoyed seeing her in sexy underwear (but I've never told her that before).
About a week later, my wife told me that she and Wang would be together after work and would be home late. When she got home, she asked me if I planned to check her underwear again. In the bedroom, she took off all her clothes except for her underwear, and then started pulling down her underwear, and then looked at me and said, " "It's really dirty. If you don't like it, don't force yourself," she said, letting her underwear slip to the floor. I wanted to make her happy, so I lifted her legs and picked up her underwear. Just like before, it was soaked with semen and her bodily fluids, but this time it was still warm from her body. She told me not to force myself, but under her watchful gaze, I gently licked the crotch of her underwear. While licking, I didn't actually feel much semen; it had probably all seeped in. However, it still had a slightly salty and mild taste. I felt a little nauseous—but didn't vomit—not because of the taste, but because of the humiliating thing I had done.
Deep down, I didn't want to go to the bedroom, but I went in anyway. The bed was already made, but the curtains were drawn, and the bedroom was very dark without the lights on.
My wife asked, "Do you like the smell?" I didn't know if she was being sarcastic, but I told her it was from her body that I liked it. She laughed and asked if I knew what I was licking.
I said... I knew there was Wang's semen inside, but since it came from her large body and she wanted me to do it, I licked it as she wished.
She said it was probably mainly Wang's semen because she felt it flowing down there on the way home. Then she said she wanted to sleep. After turning off the light, I could smell the scent of her loose hair.
She lay naked on the bed with her back to me, and I slowly slid down, pressing my face against her buttocks, and began to gently lick her back and genitals. Soon I heard her moan, and then her hand reached behind her and gently pressed my head. I could feel an even thicker, stronger-smelling liquid flowing from her. I could tell she was extremely happy. (Minutes later, she reached orgasm and told me she loved me.) Later, we talked in bed for a while, and my wife said that my actions had made her extremely happy, and if I didn't find it disgusting or forced, we could do it again in the future.
Perhaps this is the reality of being cuckolded; it hurts, but for some people, they have to accept this situation.

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An irresistible green hat

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