My wife claims she was sexually assaulted in her car by a black man from a nearby company.

There's a foreign company next to our office, and one of the guys there is a black man. He's probably around 182cm tall, and his skin is so black—I think even blacker than the black men in adult films. He's very muscular; the robust genes of Black people are on full display in him. Most Chinese men, because they lack exercise, tend to become overweight and pot-bellied as they age, but this guy, when he wears a tight t-shirt, it accentuates his massive muscles, especially his arms. He probably weighs over 190 pounds, and his hair is a short, curly buzz cut. Sometimes when we pass each other on the street, his pungent cologne is very strong. Every time we brush past each other, it's like a black bull walking by, and my 153cm height and 90-plus pounds make me look like a lamb next to that bull.
This black man is quite friendly. When he sees us female colleagues, he smiles and says "Good morning" or "Hello" in broken Chinese, and we just smile and reply.
Whenever I talk to my female colleagues at the company about it, they all say they can smell it from afar, and they laugh and say that if this black guy doesn't wear cologne, he must smell really, really bad.
Some mischievous female colleagues say that the black guy's genitals are so bulging, and whenever someone mentions it, the other colleagues will tease him, saying things like, "Is he horny?" or "Does he want a big black guy's dick to fuck him?" etc.
But we female colleagues are still normal; after all, having sex with a black guy with such a strong body odor and who is ugly requires not only mental fortitude but also physical endurance.
Once, I was returning to the factory from a neighboring town. Because it was the weekend, the bus was crowded. I squeezed onto the bus with the crowd and finally settled down near the window in the middle of the bus. My chest was pressed against the glass, and my back and buttocks were pressed tightly against someone, I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman.
When the bus arrived at a stop, some people got off, and the empty seats were immediately taken by the people standing next to them. More people even squeezed onto the bus. I remained in the same position, pressed against the glass, looking outside.
Suddenly, a pungent, yet familiar, perfume scent filled my nostrils. I thought, "Could it be that black man?" The car started moving, and I felt a solid body pressed against my back, the perfume scent even stronger.
I turned my head and saw a large chest, its muscles bulging from a tight black t-shirt. Looking up, it was the black man from the nearby company. He smiled, revealing a set of white teeth, and said in broken Mandarin, "Hello."
I replied softly, "Hello."
Then I turned my head back.
Perhaps because he saw me, I felt him press even closer, and the friction between our bodies intensified with the car's swaying.
After about five minutes, I felt something hard slowly harden in my lower back—undoubtedly the black man's penis.
Perhaps because it was uncomfortable to be folded up, I felt him secretly lift his penis with his hand. At that moment, I could feel his glans touching my back. I silently measured it in my mind, estimating its length to be over twenty centimeters. With the shaking of the car and his close proximity, my breathing became slightly rapid.
He could see my breasts rising and falling rapidly from his height, so when he tried to scratch his waist, he intentionally or unintentionally brushed against my body. Seeing that I didn't resist, he became even more brazen.
Because he was many times larger than me, people from behind could barely see me.
He slowly moved his hand from the edge of my breast, and soon, he had completely grasped one of my breasts through my clothes.
Black people's hands are also large, and my entire B-cup breast was completely covered by his.
My breathing became even more rapid. If people outside the car saw this from the window, they would think I was this black man's lover.
At this moment, I could feel his penis on my back getting harder, and as the car swayed, he took the opportunity to move his body up and down, rubbing his penis against my back.
As I squeezed my breast hard with my hand, I felt a sharp pain. I moved his hand away, and he took my small hand and moved it to the rod pressed against my back.
When I touched it, my heart pounded even faster, and my breathing became more rapid. I also used my thumb and forefinger to measure it through his pants, and I was even more surprised. It was probably more than six centimeters thick.
My private parts were already wet, and now, my vaginal opening tightened, and I felt a slight itch inside.
He placed my hand between his penis and my back, and I half-held it. He moved my hand up and down, as if I were stroking his penis.
Through the fabric, I could feel not only its hardness but also the increasing temperature of it.
After two stops, he released my hand, but I still held onto his penis, sometimes feeling quite shameless.
He moved his hand to my lower abdomen, gently rubbing and stroking it. Because I'm much shorter than him, he couldn't bend down, so he could only touch my lower abdomen. Actually, at that moment, I really wanted him to touch my genitals.
A little while later, we arrived at our stop. He reluctantly removed his hand from my lower abdomen and put it in his pocket. I knew he was using that hand to keep his huge penis pressed tightly against his lower abdomen to avoid any embarrassment. He put his other hand on my shoulder, but I pushed it away and quickly got off the train like a deer.
Back in my dorm, my husband wasn't there. I went into the bathroom and took off my underwear; the crotch area was sticky and sticky.
Back in the room, I stripped naked and took out a thick, black dildo. I compared it to the black man's; it wasn't even as thick. I couldn't wait to insert it into my wet vagina…
I don't know when I fell asleep. In my dream, I felt something twitching in my vagina. I opened my eyes and saw my husband was back, thrusting in and out with the penis still inside me. Seeing I was awake, he grinned wickedly and said, "You slut, didn't I make you feel good last night? You're using this…"
After a few thrusts, I pushed his hand away and said, "Why would I need this if I have a real one?"
Then I grabbed his hard penis and sucked on it for a while, then pushed him down and sat on top of him, vigorously stroking him up and down…
That night, I told my husband everything that happened in the car that day. After listening, he pushed me down on the bed and frantically thrust his penis into all three of my holes.

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My wife claims she was sexually assaulted in her car by a black man from a nearby company.

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