Memoirs of a Seductive Wife, Part 48

For a while now, due to various factors, I haven't had the time or the inclination to continue writing my wife's memoir. On one hand, after the pandemic, everyone was busy resuming work and production, so naturally, I was incredibly busy. On the other hand, I learned before the Spring Festival that before I met my wife, she had already been working as a technician at K's club—basically, a professional prostitute, selling her body to clients. Ever since then, I've felt uneasy about it. A while ago, while my wife was on break—actually, she was on her period. She only stays home for a few days during her period. Since she was home, I had a serious talk with her for a few days. My wife finally faced reality and understood her true place in K's heart. So, in front of me, she blocked and deleted all of K's contact information, and she also blocked and deleted several of his lovers who had close relationships with him.

It was only a few days later that I found out that my wife had several lovers, just like dating, and that she had several "backup" lovers. It was really bizarre. My flirtatious wife had been having casual sex with these men for two or three years. I knew before that besides frequently engaging in group sex with her lovers, she would occasionally go out and hook up with casual sex partners she got along well with. Now, she took the opportunity to turn these casual sex partners into lovers, and even after they went to the hospital for checkups, she still had unprotected group sex with them. It was a seamless transition. I was busy with work and didn't pay much attention. Later, when I had some free time with my sister-in-law, I found out that my wife was doing this because she wanted to gradually fade K's place in her heart through her interactions with other men.

I've always thought I'd adjusted my mindset, but every time I want to continue sharing my wife's memoirs, I can't help but mentally criticize K-ge. It seems my self-cultivation isn't enough; I can't remain so calm. The road ahead is long and arduous, but I must persevere and strive to reach the shores of happiness for my wife. If you don't like this or find it offensive, please forgive me! Let's

put aside those complicated thoughts and get back to the main point. Before the Lunar New Year, whether my wife went out or visited my mother, she always wore a silk scarf around her neck. Later, I realized that she always wore it after being taken to bondage games by K-ge and his friends. Now I belatedly understand—she wore it to cover the marks on her neck.

I remember it was near the end of the year when I was having sex with my sister-in-law. She mentioned that K and his friends had set a date for a get-together. Two days later, she stopped talking, clearly waiting for me to respond. I knew perfectly well what was going on; I'd already slept with her, so I couldn't pretend I didn't know, right? I lay on her stomach, looking at her, and asked, "Sister-in-law, do you think it's better for your sister and me to go or not?" (Whenever I'm with my sister-in-law, I never call her by her real name, LL; I just like to call her "sister-in-law," it feels exciting.) She puffed out her belly and said irritably, "How should I know?" I said, "You know our family situation; we definitely won't care about those little red envelopes or anything. Besides, there are too many people at these kinds of gatherings. What if we run into acquaintances, or even people who work for our company? Can you imagine the consequences?"

Although my sister-in-law is usually carefree and easygoing, she's not the naive type. So she agreed with my concerns. She said, "That's true! Before you and my sister got married, if things went wrong, we could just break up and be done with it. Now that you're married and have kids, it's a different story." I really appreciated her understanding and thoughtfulness on this important matter. I said, "Your sister once told me she loved being gang-raped by dozens of men, that it could ruin a person. She really enjoyed that feeling. Do you like it too?" She immediately admitted, "Yes! It feels like you're about to die, but you can't. It's indescribable, but it's really addictive." I thought about it and said, "It's up to your sister. If she really wants to participate, I won't stop her, but I definitely won't participate."

Most of the time, when I make love with my wife, the main topics are eating her juices and washing the pot. It feels different. My wife has a thick fleshy pad on her mons pubis, below her triangle area. I always tease her, saying that I wonder if those pads are calluses from her years of prostitution. My sister-in-law has also been with countless men over the years. She's not a prostitute, but she's even more promiscuous than one. Although her vagina is a bit looser than my wife's, it's incredibly tight and very wet. Whenever I meet up with her, she won't let other men touch her. Even if we have a date, she'll let me finish before leaving. So, having sex with her is especially comfortable. Just simple sex is very satisfying. Of course, her skills in bed further fuel our passion. After "several days" of intense battles with her, I was exhausted and out of steam. Reluctantly, I dismounted. My sister-in-law, despite being "out of shape" for "several days," remained radiant and full of energy.

That day, when I got home, my slutty wife was already showering in the bathroom, so I immediately went in to shower with her. Back in bed, we kissed and caressed each other, but my little brother remained limp, his virility gone. My wife, looking at me with a resentful expression, said, "Looks like your sister-in-law's cunt smells better!" I, naturally, retorted, "Looks like you haven't had enough to eat outside either?! What's wrong with you? Why can't you get a decent meal from all those husbands?" My wife replied, "Even if you drain one person dry, they can't possibly be full! No matter how many husbands you have, you can't rely on them these next few days. They're going to a year-end party the day after tomorrow, so they're all conserving their energy!" I said, "When I was fucking my sister-in-law just now, we were talking about the year-end party too! I told LL that with our family situation, I can't go. If I run into an acquaintance, it won't just be a disaster, it'll be a huge mess. My mom will kill me." My wife said, "I thought of that too, so we're not going."

After my wife finished speaking, she just kept swallowing and spitting. I gently stroked her hair, my heart in turmoil, incredibly conflicted. Finally, I gritted my teeth and said to her, "Honey, if you really want to go and love those big events, why don't you go by yourself? I won't go." To be honest, I said this as a test. I didn't want my wife to attend such large gatherings after we got married, but I never expected her to be so blunt and take the bait without any politeness. She immediately spat out her still limp penis, looked up at me, and said, "Honey, do you really think so?" What could I say? I could only grit my teeth and say, "I just told LL the same thing. My sister-in-law said she's really obsessed with that feeling. I think you must like it too, right? So if you really want to go, then go!" My wife, all excited, climbed up to me, swearing and kissing me, saying repeatedly, "Honey, you're so good! I love you so much!" I was completely dumbfounded. A married woman, her husband had agreed to let her go out and have affairs, to be gang-raped by other men, and this was the result of her excitement? The whole situation was completely distorted. What

shocked me was that my wife's attitude towards this was so excited, so impatient, to the point of being like this. Before we were married, my wife had attended these kinds of gatherings before, and I genuinely thought she needed the tips and money she could get from them. I always thought she was forced by financial pressure to sell her body for a better future, that selling her body was a kind of struggle. Now I realize how naive I was.

But deep down, I also had a vague, lingering expectation that my wife would attend these gatherings. It's unbelievable. I know this thinking is wrong, but I keep making the same mistake. With mixed feelings and a sense of loss, I had to find a way to change the subject. Suddenly, I asked my wife, "Hey! Honey, which fuck buddy did you meet up with this time?" I didn't really think much of it. I knew about most of the fuck buddies my wife had outside. It was just something I was making conversation about.

My flirtatious wife said, "Actually, I wasn't planning on going out for casual sex. It's just that it's almost the end of the year, and the group admin organized an event—a dinner and karaoke party." I asked, "My classmate Z?" My flirtatious wife said, "Who else? I don't have any other groups!" I said, "You guys had dinner and karaoke, and it ended so early? Didn't you say you were going to hook up?" My flirtatious wife said, "It's actually quite funny. We ate dinner early, and when we went to karaoke, there were about ten people, but in less than an hour, they all left in pairs. In the end, there were practically no people left, just another online friend, your classmate Z, and me. Z said we should call a driver to take me. He sat in the back with me and started touching me inappropriately. I told him I was married, and my husband was his classmate and brother. He probably saw that I wasn't resisting too much, so he said he missed the old days and directed the driver to find a place where he wanted to sit and chat some more."

I gritted my teeth and said, "And then? You two just sat there and ended up on the bed? That bastard Z, next time I see him, I'll make sure he's completely emaciated!" My slutty wife said, "Sigh! I...I...I've let him fuck me before! When a man touches me, my body goes weak, I don't know how to resist." I nearly vomited blood! This slut! She's unbelievable. I angrily said, "Hey, you slutty wife, you can't be this slutty! That guy's practically my childhood friend, my classmate! You're really something! How am I supposed to see Ah Z again? How am I supposed to attend future class reunions?" My slutty wife said guiltily, "But he's fucked me several times before, hasn't he?" I said, "We're married now, aren't we? Before, we were boyfriend and girlfriend, now we're husband and wife, it's not the same thing, is it?" My slutty wife said, "He's already been fucked, do you expect me to fuck him again?"

I finally understood something: home isn't a place for reasoning, it's a place for love and family. Talking to this slutty wife of mine would kill the conversation immediately. Luckily, my childhood friend is decent enough, not a blabbermouth, but I'd feel awkward seeing him again. I just don't understand what these two sisters have such a weird fetish? Why do they like being gang-raped so much? It seems like the more people, the better. Both sisters are the cream of the crop among sluts.

Three days later, I had a dinner appointment with a client. It's the end of the year, so there are always a lot of dinners; sometimes I have to rush to several in one night. Any business owner out there can relate, right? I was just about to go to the parking garage to get my car when I received a WeChat message from my wife in the elevator: "Honey, Ah B is picking me up for a big meal." Seeing this message in the elevator, I almost stumbled and fell. This slutty wife, she still went to the appointment? Although I was somewhat prepared, I still felt a pang of sadness. We're married with children, and my wife still goes to these kinds of gatherings. Before, I thought she went to those kinds of parties, getting gang-raped, simply to make money. But now? We certainly don't lack those so-called red envelopes and tips, but after a deep conversation with my sister-in-law a couple of days ago, and then talking to my wife at home, I truly understood that the main reason my wife and sister-in-law attend those kinds of parties is that they are both particularly obsessed with the feeling of being fucked senseless by men—in short, masochism. She was even obsessed with being half-crippled by men, finding a strange pleasure in the pain!

That night, it was a coincidence. I had attended three events that night, was exhausted, and drank a lot. Normally, even with many dinner parties, I try to stay about 70% sober, but that night I don't know why I drank too much. Later, I heard from friends at those dinners that I was asking for more drinks myself, and they couldn't stop me. My assistant took me home. When I woke up in the morning, I was still wearing the shirt and trousers I'd worn the night before, my socks still on, and my phone was dead. I shook my head, trying to clear my head, quickly plugged in my phone charger, went to the bathroom to wash up, and took a hot shower.

When I came out of the bathroom, my phone was working again, and I didn't see any calls, so I breathed a sigh of relief. There were several text messages from my wife on my phone: "Drink less, take care of yourself," "Want to see this?" "No, don't," "Drank too much? Take a hot shower before bed, you'll feel better," "Really drunk? Or is your phone dead?" To be honest, this was the first time my wife had sent me so many messages after a date. Whether it was a one-on-one date or a group date, she'd never sent me so many messages. I took my phone and charger to the restaurant to charge. It was only a little past seven. After breakfast, I sent my wife a WeChat message: "Three dates tonight, drank too much, phone dead." "You sent me so many messages, aren't you interrupting your fun?"

After breakfast, I went back to the bedroom, planning to take a nap before going to work. I really didn't want to pick her up. No matter what, we used to be boyfriend and girlfriend, now we're married, with children. The mindset is completely different. I feel more bitter than before marriage. And I can't even imagine what my wife would be like after being with dozens of men in one night. I didn't check my phone again and went back to sleep soundly. I woke up at 8:30 and rushed to the company.

After parking in the underground parking lot, I finally remembered to check my phone. Sure enough, it was a WeChat message from my wife, sent twenty minutes ago: "Just woke up, honey, are you busy today?" I replied, "Oh, very tired? I'm already at the company. Every day before the New Year is busy." My wife quickly replied, "Okay, honey, you go ahead and do your work. They...they're going to continue again." I thought to myself, at this hour, of course I know they'll continue. Maybe it was still the bitterness in my heart that was acting up, but I didn't ask my wife anything else and went straight upstairs to work. Before we got married, I think I would have picked my wife up from the club. But after marriage, I admit my mindset has changed somewhat, especially after taking over the company, which has greatly changed my personality. I'm more stable, even a bit dull, than before.

I work until the afternoon, and then there's an unavoidable dinner party in the evening—that's how it's been for the past two years since I took over the company. My position also represents responsibility; it doesn't allow me to be willful. Bearing this burden is probably the fate of every business owner. Before marriage, I would definitely have gone to a club in the morning to pick up my sexy wife and go home for some intimate time. I don't know if I've changed subconsciously, but it seems I'm not in control of my own life, and there's always a bitter feeling in my heart. I won't go into detail about the evening's social engagements; I didn't get home until very late, completely drunk.

I vaguely remember going to the living room to get a drink of water, and somehow I fell asleep on the sofa. In the middle of the night, I don't know why, I knocked over a glass—it was very loud, especially in the night. My wife came into the living room naked, and I was woken up by the noise. My wife, still half-asleep, was leaning against the bedroom doorframe, staring blankly at me. "Honey, what are you doing?" she asked. I was half-asleep and said, "Did you bump into something while turning over?" She said, "Huh? Honey, when did you get back? Why are you sleeping in the living room?" I snapped out of my

daze and realized I was in the living room. "I was thirsty when I got back, so I went to get some water. How did I fall asleep?" I said. My wife, muttering, "Couldn't you drink less?", helped me towards the bedroom. When we got to the chaise lounge, I sat down and didn't want to move. She then helped me undress, struggling to get me completely naked. She then helped me to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and started washing me. After being showered with hot water for a while, I felt a little more awake and saw my wife wearing a shower cap, standing under the shower, carefully washing me.

I noticed the crisscrossing marks all over her body from the straps. I asked, "You guys did that bondage thing again at your get-together, didn't you?" My wife nodded slightly. I'd seen those marks from before a couple of days ago; they were still faintly visible. No wonder some of the marks looked like double images. I pulled her closer to the bathroom wall, lifted her shower cap a little, and sniffed. Sure enough, her hair smelled of urine. She weakly said, "Well... I was... marinated by them all night again. There were two blankets on the floor, and they wouldn't let me get into bed or leave the covers. There were so many people, and both blankets were soaked." I said irritably, "Now you're really savory, aren't you? It's almost New Year's, I'll hang you on the balcony to dry. You'll be like cured meat."

My flirtatious wife said, "Honey, no need to air-dry it. Freshly pickled, isn't it just as delicious?" I was speechless. I shook my head and said, "That's why I say you two sisters are both sluts! Both whores, the epitome of whores." My flirtatious wife said, "So what? I'm flirtatious, I'm wanton, and I'm happy! I'll walk my own path and let others envy me!" As soon as I squatted down, my flirtatious wife spread her legs wide. Her cunt was indeed red and swollen. It had been a day since I got home, and it was still so red and swollen. I couldn't bear to lick or touch it. If I did, it would definitely hurt a lot.

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Memoirs of a Seductive Wife, Part 48

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