Sharing in my wife's happiness

One autumn evening, with nothing to do, my wife and I chatted idly. "Honey, Old Wang next door is a nice guy." "Yeah, very handsome." "He seems to have a crush on you." "Don't talk nonsense." "You two get along really well." "Just gossiping." "His wife isn't much to look at." "Yeah, ugly." "She keeps a close eye on Old Wang." "Yeah, she watches him every time he comes in." "Actually, you don't have to be so petty. Between husband and wife, one person should find some enjoyment, and the other doesn't need anything in return. I wouldn't be so narrow-minded." My wife was taken aback, staring at me for a while, knowing I wasn't lying, but said, "You're so insightful?" She then got up, humming a little tune, and went to the kitchen to busy herself. Soon, a table full of delicious dishes was served, and unexpectedly, a bottle of thatch tea was also brought out. "I didn't do anything special, why such a high-class treat?" My wife smiled without answering, blushing. I asked again, "Is Old Wang home? Shall we invite him over for a few drinks?" "Is that alright?... You'd have to pay." Of course, it was my treat. We sat down, and I first offered Old Wang a strong coffee, heavily spiked with Viagra—he had no time to savor it! Kid, you can't help but be tempted! During the meal, Old Wang became increasingly uneasy, glancing at his wife every now and then. After a few rounds of drinks, his eyes were practically glued to her; his lustful gaze made me feel embarrassed for him. His wife also took a small sip, her face becoming increasingly rosy, her eyes sparkling with the shy charm of first love—a rare allure that captivated me. Old Wang seemed even more distracted, but out of consideration for me, he dared not act rashly. To cover his embarrassment, he diligently poured me drinks and enthusiastically urged me to drink, as if he were the one treating me. It was practically: "He'll only have a chance if I drink another glass; otherwise, he'll have no chance." Ha, his enthusiasm was so intense, he practically wanted to pour the bottle down my throat! As for me, I took the opportunity to drink, quickly becoming tipsy and slurring my words, soon "drunk" and lying on the sofa. This brother, however, didn't hesitate at all. He and his wife quickly helped me to the bed in the small room, while Old Wang pulled his wife out by the hand. Did he think I was stupid? I was drunk, but my mind wasn't; even with my eyes half-closed, I could still see clearly. He didn't forget to close the door behind me. About ten minutes later, I heard the door open, and my wife came in and softly asked, "Husband, are you alright?" Her voice was choked and trembling, as if she had just been greatly frightened. I responded with even louder snoring. My wife gently kissed me and quietly closed the door again before leaving. My heart started churning. Why was my wife so agitated? She must be in love. There must be something interesting going to happen. I couldn't help but quietly get out of bed and gently push the door open. There was resistance. Peeking through the crack, I saw a chair blocking the way. Luckily, I was gentle and didn't make a sound. She was keeping an eye on me. Oh well, I shouldn't frighten my wife. I closed the door and went back to bed. Whatever happened in the other room, let it be. Whether they suffer or get tired, they have to bear it themselves! Thinking this, I actually fell asleep. When I woke up the next day, I saw my wife hugging my leg, her happy little face nestled close to my penis, sleeping soundly, like a baby who had eaten and drunk her fill and was content in her dreams. Her rosy cheeks radiated a captivating joy, like clouds, like rosy dawn, exceptionally endearing. A sleeping beauty is the most enchanting. Over the years, whenever I'm moved, my wife adopts this position at night—a silent expression of gratitude, a testament to happiness. At this moment, I fear shattering this bliss, so I lie still, holding my breath, not daring to move a muscle. I imagine how they made love last night, and as I think, a fire rises in my lower abdomen, making my penis swell as if injected with adrenaline. But I try my best to restrain myself, unwilling to disturb my wife's sweet dream. Is she dreaming of my deep affection? Or of Old Wang's passion? Deep affection is like aged wine, passion like new brew. I secretly vowed that one day I would let you enjoy both the old and the new! These past years, our marital pleasures have never felt quite enough. Every time we reach our climax, we soar to the top, only to plummet again, never managing to break free of the atmosphere. How could I, a mere rudimentary rocket, possibly possibly reach the heavens? My dear, I will treat you like a queen, letting your male lovers act as second and third stages, propelling you through the clouds, straight to the heavens! I will send you to the clouds of happiness.

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Sharing in my wife's happiness

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