My wife and I

1.
I am a company secretary and my wife is an accountant. We have been married for 10 years and are a childless couple. My wife is slim and lovely. I always play the dual roles of father and husband at home. My wife used to love to have fun, but after we got married, she spent most of her time with me. Every week or two, she would go shopping with her childhood friend. If she stayed out late, she would stay at her friend's house. Every time she came back, she would excitedly tell me all sorts of things. I thought that life would continue to be peaceful and happy like this. But on Valentine's Day in 2006, I was busy writing a draft for my boss at home and didn't have time to spend with her. She was very understanding and said that she would go shopping with her friend. After my wife went downstairs, I went to the balcony to stretch. Strangely, I noticed my wife walked straight to the entrance of our apartment complex and got into a black sedan. The female classmate she was going to meet had just gotten divorced and was struggling alone. I didn't think much of it at first. I finished my draft and quickly drove to my boss's office. On my way back, I passed Starbucks and saw the black sedan parked in front of it. My wife was walking out with a man. I recognized him; my wife often mentioned him. He was her driver at work, a witty storyteller, and very popular with women, but my wife disliked him. I was very curious—why was she with him today? I decided to follow them. The black sedan drove very fast, and after about ten minutes we arrived at Longshan Scenic Area. They parked the car and walked up the mountain path. Naturally, I followed. To avoid being discovered, I kept a good distance. At this time of year, there was almost no one on the mountain. After a while, I realized I had lost them. Reluctantly, I climbed down a small slope and sat down under a large rock to rest. Suddenly, I heard my wife's incoherent cries. I peeked over, and what I saw almost made me faint. My wife's top was completely unbuttoned, and her skirt was flipped up to her waist. The man was standing behind her, naked from the waist down… My mind went blank, my body went limp, and I don't know how much time passed. The person behind the stone was gone, and I don't know how I got home. Soon after, my wife called, saying she was having a great time at a classmate's house and wouldn't be home that night. I lay in bed, tears streaming down my face. I knew I couldn't leave her; without her, life had no meaning for me. Without her, I would die a lonely death. Why would she cheat on me? Was it because our age difference made me unable to satisfy her? I tried to control my emotions. My wife was still so caring, but she still went shopping with her classmate every week and stayed at her classmate's house at night. What can I do to win her back?
In May 2006, the day before her birthday, I received a call from her after get off work. She said her colleagues were having dinner together and she'd be back late. I knew it would be another passionate night for her. I sat at home, filled with bitterness, watching TV, but I couldn't hear a thing. After some time, I suddenly woke up with a start. I looked at the clock; it was almost midnight. My head ached, and my chest felt incredibly tight. I decided to go for a walk. KR City had developed rapidly in recent years; the small city was beautiful. I drove aimlessly, and before I knew it, I passed the Petrochemical Plaza. The plaza was large and well-landscaped, but it was a bit out of the way, so there weren't many people there. I parked in a parking lot on one side and wandered around aimlessly. My wife and I knew this plaza very well. We were both adventurous and willing to try new things. Back when Taobao didn't exist, we were already buying and selling things on eBay. Not long after we got married… Feeling that our sex life had become dull, we both wanted to try something new. I remember one time, on the balcony, my wife and I were both wearing t-shirts on top and naked from the waist down. We opened the window, and I entered from behind. At that moment, the neighbor's balcony window was also open, the two windows only about two meters apart. My wife leaned on the windowsill, her head sticking out. At that moment, the old lecherous neighbor was also leaning on the windowsill smoking. He obviously noticed my wife's swaying body and started making small talk with her. My wife couldn't keep up with his words, her stammering and uncontrollable moans arousing the old lecher so much that he wanted to crawl over. This semi-public setting was obviously a strong stimulus for my wife, and she reached orgasm in less than five minutes. From then on, we started looking for all sorts of exciting ways to stimulate her, and this square was one of the places we used to frequent. My wife has a great figure; she especially likes to wear short skirts and tight jeans. Wearing jeans, back in the hottest part of summer, she wore a short skirt without anything underneath. I sat on a park bench, secretly showing off my "weapon," while my wife slowly sat down, swaying her slender waist. Once, a high school student pretended to ask for directions, and we had to stop our "exercise." Of course, we could only enthusiastically give him directions like conjoined twins. Actually, it was pointless to pretend; my wife's short skirt barely covered her buttocks when she sat down. After asking for directions, the boy didn't go far, hiding behind a tree nearby to peek. We were happy to satisfy his budding desires, so we simply let loose and completed this educational activity in a "doggy style" manner.
Women are like water; if you don't guide them but instead try to block them, a tranquil stream might become a dangerous dammed lake. I don't want to lose my wife, and I can't lose her. I'm not a narrow-minded person; perhaps I'm just not good at pleasing women (my wife is currently my only woman). (There's a woman in my life), my life might be a bit dull, but when others admire my wife, I don't feel jealous; on the contrary, I feel quite proud. Actually, since my wife had her affair, she's become more fashion-conscious, dressing more sexily, and she seems much more energetic. She's also become much more attentive to me. Influenced by her, I've also changed a lot. During the democratic evaluation at work, my score was almost the highest (my female colleagues all gave me high marks). Yes, life is like a journey; don't focus on the destination, but on the scenery along the way. Although husband and wife are like birds in the same forest, just being together every day is quite meaningless, especially for a beauty like my wife. She needs praise and affirmation from others.
After thinking it through, my wife and I had an open and honest talk all night, and we basically reached a few points of consensus. Under the premise of ensuring the safety of my wife and family, she can fully enjoy life. You can imagine how moved and excited my wife was. That night, she exhausted me almost to death...
The next day, I had just gotten off work and hadn't even gone upstairs when I received a call from my wife. She said that her colleague's company and her company were holding an event to help some older single people find partners. My wife, as one of the organizers, was going to participate.
What would happen that night? It was past midnight, and my wife still hadn't returned. I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk in the neighborhood. When I got deeper into the neighborhood, I saw my wife's company car parked by the woods. The car was still running, and it seemed like she was about to move it. I walked to a spot under the trees where the streetlights couldn't reach and watched quietly. It seemed my wife was practicing driving, but as soon as the car started moving, it stalled. It seemed my wife wasn't very good at coordinating the accelerator and clutch. This happened repeatedly. The man in the passenger seat couldn't take it anymore. He got out, ran over, opened the door, pulled my wife out, moved the seat further away, got in, and then pulled my wife in, making her sit on his lap.
Actually, I was against my wife learning to drive because when she gets nervous, she covers her eyes with her hands instead of gripping the steering wheel. I guess that man was quite helpless, having to teach her step by step. It was a very hot and humid day, and through the open car window, I could hear the man lecturing and my wife arguing back. I watched with a disgruntled expression, wondering what kind of fool they would make. The car was moving very slowly when it suddenly stalled. From inside, I heard my wife's giggles: "You naughty man, don't move!" The man seemed to lean back. My wife, gripping the steering wheel, sat up and groped for something before slowly sitting down, letting out a long groan. The car swayed gently with her movements. I couldn't bear to watch any longer. Just as I turned to leave, a blinding beam of a flashlight swept over—it was the joint defense team patrolling! The night patrol team approached and noticed the car parked on the side of the road with its window open. They walked over to the window. "What are you doing here so late?" they asked. They clearly hadn't noticed the man. "Practicing driving, what's wrong with that?" the team leader replied, recognizing the license plate and calling out, "Let's go." The group continued walking forward. The one who had spoken earlier said, "There seems to be someone else in that car." The leader yelled, "Shut up! Look at that license plate! Don't go looking for trouble! The boss is having some work, and you're going to bother him? You don't want to live anymore!" The group laughed, and the car started shaking rhythmically again. I got home, showered, and had just fallen asleep when my wife came home. Her face was flushed, and her beautiful eyes were simply mesmerizing. I couldn't help but say, "You look so beautiful today!" My wife replied, "Really?" However, at today's social gathering, many young men surrounded me. Even after I told them I was already married, they wouldn't let me off the hook. This workplace is truly full of hidden talents; there are several PhDs who have studied abroad. I said, not without a hint of jealousy, "So, you didn't hook up with a few?" "It's only the first day, how could I possibly succeed?" my wife replied. My goodness, a woman's desires can only be described as insatiable. My wife's great-grandmother was Mongolian; her figure wasn't like that of a typical Han Chinese—long torso, short legs, and flat hips. Although she wasn't tall, her proportions were perfect. Her hips in tight jeans... It was enough to make Buddha renounce his vows. My wife swayed her slender waist, her round, slightly upturned buttocks moving sensually. She took off her high heels and was about to pull down her pants when I suddenly felt a surge of fighting spirit and shouted, "Don't move!" My wife jolted, bending over and freezing there like a statue. I quickly grabbed my razor blade and carefully made a cut in the crotch of my wife's pants. A few long, curly hairs stuck out; it seemed her underwear had been freed in the struggle. With the lubrication from before, I easily entered my wife. My wife held onto the wainscoting. With her hips swaying and the intense stimulation, I ejaculated in less than five minutes. I looked at my wife's still expectant body, filled with guilt, speechless. My wife sensed my demise, turned to look at me, and gently stroked my face with her small hand. "It's okay," she said, "I'm already very satisfied today." We slept silently. The next morning, while my wife was wiping the table, I accidentally knocked her purse off. The zipper was undone, and her belongings scattered all over the floor, including several condoms. It seems my wife is quite careful; she wears an IUD, and we never... Using this tool,
although I'm someone who makes a living with my pen, or rather, a creator of intellectual civilization, I must admit privately that I don't live a noble life; in fact, I'm somewhat despicable. I'm not the kind of person who can stand by and cheer on his wife while she's with another man. I think such a person doesn't truly love his wife but only treats her as an object of sexual gratification. I forgive my wife, rejoice in her joy, and grieve in her sorrow, because I love her. I consider our encounter in this life the meaning of my existence. I'm someone who lives off the kindness of many. Growing up as an orphan, family is more important to me than anything else. My wife's sister warned me not to spoil her too much, but my lovely wife is like a piece of candy—what else can you do but keep her in your mouth?
My wife knows what I need, and I understand how I should repay her. What's wrong with everyone being happy together? In nature, most male animals restrict their females from mating with other males to maximize the continuation of their genes. Humans, too, cannot escape their biological attributes in many behaviors, and I am no exception. So, I always feel uncomfortable when I see my wife being intimate with others. But I don't want children, and my genes don't need to be continued. Why should I destroy all this warmth and happiness, only to end up in pain and loneliness? There's an old song that goes, "Loneliness is shameful." Yes, which lonely person doesn't suffer for themselves and others, ending up alone?
Since that social event, my wife has been receiving noticeably more phone calls. I don't know how many couples she's helped matchmake, but her own social life has improved significantly. One morning, she went out to get milk, and her phone vibrated, indicating a text message had arrived. I picked it up and looked... The phone read, "My dear, I long to stay in your tender embrace forever. Our first time together made me feel the meaning of life. I miss your firm breasts, I miss your intoxicating honeyed depths. Though you've only just left, it feels like a century has passed. I miss your 'Kun.'" It seems my wife has a new friend. Just then, she returned. Seeing me looking at her phone, she awkwardly snatched it away. I jokingly said, "Who is this 'Kun'? Is he some celebrity?" Seeing I wasn't angry, my wife calmly replied, "He's a PhD from that networking organization." "He's been through so much school that he's gone crazy. He's 28 and has never been in a relationship, not even held a woman's hand. I introduced him to a girl from my workplace, but he didn't like her at all. Instead, he sent me flowers every day. So I had to ask him to dance a few times." "You didn't just dance, did you?" I said with a wicked smile. My wife had also finished reading the text message and her face turned red. "Just last night, while we were dancing, his penis was as hard as iron. During the break, I sat in his lap and he actually ejaculated. That young man is actually tall and handsome, but he's a bit dull, or rather, too honest." After we finished dancing, we were in the park, and he groped me all over. Later, when we went inside, some thugs were whistling nearby, so we had to go to his dorm. He actually did it five times! No wonder I noticed my wife's legs were spread wide open when she left this morning. My wife came over to me, pleading, "Honey, you're not mad at me, are you? I didn't use a condom last night. He's a virgin, you know. I always use condoms with other guys." My wife pulled out her already hard penis from my pants, lifted her skirt, and sat on top of me. I immediately felt a warm, tight embrace around my penis. Could it be that my wife went to get milk without a bra...? As we were talking, my wife's phone rang. It seemed that guy wanted to pour his heart out over the phone. My wife answered the phone while swaying her hips as she straddled me. I don't know what was said on the other end, but I felt my wife's honey pot tighten and contract. I increased my intensity. My wife was expressing her longing and moaning on the phone. I guess that guy was probably wishing he could crawl out of the phone and take my place. Honest, huh, I thought to myself as I moved. Such a skilled womanizer and still so honest. I have to be careful for my wife.
Actually, I feel more like my wife's father than her husband now. My wife plays the role of several people simultaneously, keeping herself incredibly busy every day. In 2008, housing prices plateaued for a period. Considering my wife's workplace was far away and she couldn't drive, I decided to buy a new apartment near her workplace on a mortgage. We furnished the apartment simply so she would have a place to rest at noon. With everything settled, the early autumn wind was already a bit chilly. I worried that the other apartment only had an air-conditioning blanket, and my wife might catch a cold during her afternoon nap, so I decided to bring her a blanket. Our apartment is on the first floor. As I walked past the window, I noticed the curtains were drawn, indicating my wife was already resting. I went upstairs and gently unlocked the door. At that moment, I heard my wife's passionate moans coming from the bathroom. I noticed her bra and panties scattered on the living room sofa, along with some men's clothes mixed in. Looking closely, I noticed a used condom lying in the corner of the living room, and the trash can was full of dried condoms and their packaging. It seemed my wife had turned this place into her "love nest." From the bathroom came the crisp sounds of bodies colliding, and my wife's moans grew louder and louder; their lovemaking was nearing its climax. I quickly withdrew, went downstairs to the car, and waited until they were finished before going back up to avoid embarrassing my wife. Back in the car, I called my wife. It rang for a while before she answered. I briefly told her I'd be there in half an hour to bring her a blanket, and then waited patiently in the car. Suddenly, I noticed her phone was still ringing. Curious, I picked it up to listen to what they were doing. Then I heard my wife's voice on the other end: "My husband's coming to bring a blanket. You should go out and hide for a bit. Don't, don't rush, wait for him to come." "Come on, when you've used up all the ones, go buy some more," a man's voice said. "I can't wait any longer." It seemed that the man was going to force himself on her. I turned my head and saw the living room curtains shaking violently. I could even faintly hear my wife's moans. Two teenagers passed by the window, attracted by the scene. They leaned over the windowsill and peered inside. I thought, "This is terrible! If word gets out, how will I ever face anyone again?" I quickly got out of the car and knocked on the door. It took a long time for the door to open. My wife was wearing a loose nightgown. I looked around but didn't see the man. My wife grabbed the blanket and turned to go to the bedroom. I noticed a milky white liquid slowly flowing down my wife's leg.
I knew this couldn't continue. Everything was spiraling out of control. Beautiful women, especially women like my wife who know how to use their beauty, are adept at using men to nourish their aging bodies. I talked to her. After dinner, I held my wife's hand and sat on the sofa. Looking at her smooth, alabaster skin, I couldn't help but sigh, "My darling, you're getting younger and younger. Isn't it all thanks to our happy life?" My wife replied proudly. I chuckled and said, "It's probably because of our sex life." "You're so naughty!" My wife playfully punched me with her little fist. I grabbed her hand, pulled her into my arms, and asked, "How many men are you seeing now?" My wife grinned mischievously. "How many times a month counts as seeing someone? If it's just once, I can't even count them all. If it's five times a month, there are more than a dozen. If it's twice a day, there are five or six. Anyway, if I were to drink all the semen that comes in, I wouldn't need to drink any more water." "You little bitch, come clean!" I started tickling my wife. She giggled and begged for mercy. I said, "I'll tell you." My wife's expression turned serious. "Don't be angry when I tell you, actually..." Just then, Dr. Kun called. My wife looked at me pitifully. "Answer it," I nodded. It turned out that Dr. Kun and some friends were at SOHO International and had invited my wife. What could I say? Let's go. But I was worried about this "Kun." I decided to secretly follow my wife. After she got off at SOHO International, I sat in the car listening to the radio, bored. I don't know how much time had passed, but I was almost asleep when I saw a group of people escorting a sexy and charming woman out. Upon closer inspection, it was actually my wife! She was staggering, clearly drunk. A well-dressed man pulled his wife into a white Land Rover, which sped away. I quickly followed, but as we walked, I noticed the Land Rover wasn't heading towards my house. Instead, it went to Mingyuan Residential Complex, a villa community where each house had a large garden, about 400 square meters. The Land Rover stopped in front of a villa deep within the complex. Just then, an Audi pulled up behind, and six or seven people got into the villa. Seeing that my wife was the only woman there, I couldn't help but worry… It was midnight when suddenly the colored lights behind the villa came on. I parked my car outside, climbed onto the roof, and peered inside. I saw them setting up a barbecue grill and starting to grill. Around several scattered tables, a projector was playing a movie; I couldn't see the screen, but it sounded like pornography. The people were eating, drinking, and chatting. I noticed the man in the Land Rover suddenly walk over to his wife, pull her into his arms, and they started kissing while drinking. I couldn't bear to watch any longer. I crouched down, ready to rush in if his wife resisted—if she resisted even slightly. No, a moment later, my wife's moans, mixed with the slapping sounds of limbs colliding, came from the yard. I stood up and saw my wife's hands bent over the iron railing of the flower bed, her tank top pulled down to her waist, her skirt flipped up. The man in the Land Rover was vigorously thrusting into her from behind, her full breasts heaving violently. Everyone was captivated. The man in the Land Rover didn't last long; after two or three minutes of vigorous thrusting, he roared and gave up. Before my wife could turn around, another strong man took her place. Everyone took off their shirts and surrounded her... My wife's pleasure was clearly intensifying; her moans turned into cries, repeatedly shouting, "Faster, faster..." I returned to my car, dejected. My wife had been gang-raped, yet she seemed to enjoy it. She didn't return home until noon the next day. She staggered to the bedroom and collapsed wearily onto the bed. I helped her undress; she had clearly showered, but the swollen, red lips between her legs betrayed the intensity of the previous night's encounter. I carefully applied a hot towel to her soothing area, then sat down to reflect.
Since that night of passion, my wife's behavior had become increasingly erratic. She often stayed out all night, sometimes for two or three days at a time. She had an older sister, two years her senior, who was a yoga instructor and ran a yoga studio in Laizhou. Her husband owned a software company, and they had no children. They had lived a comfortable life. She was happy, but one day her husband went to the yoga studio to find her, only to find her "practicing poses" with a hired male instructor on a desk. He rushed over, but the yoga instructor was quite skilled and beat him half to death. Her husband, having been cheated on and beaten, naturally couldn't swallow his anger and divorced her. (It seems a woman's promiscuity has a large genetic component.) Her sister-in-law couldn't stay in Laizhou any longer, so she changed shops and came to our city. Her wife and her sister were very close, and the sister-in-law insisted that her sister-in-law live with us. However, her wife still frequently stayed out all night. Her sister-in-law, having been through similar experiences, noticed that her wife often changed into sexy outfits after work... Even going out for social events without a suitcase, I've come to understand many things. One afternoon, I had just finished making dinner when my wife changed her clothes and left without me even seeing her. My wife's older sister was helping me with the meal. At the dinner table, the older sister was silent for a long time, then suddenly said, "I think you have a problem. Your wife carries condoms in her bag every day and doesn't come home at night. Don't you, as her husband, know this? How can you let her do this? What's wrong between you two?" "I know," I replied stiffly, "but what can I do? She's addicted to sex, like she's tasted something new. Can she ever go back to her simple, boring life? She's intoxicated by the romantic myths created by wealthy men, savoring different..." "The length and girth of a man... She's clearly a socialite in this circle now. My role is just to give her a home in name only. What can I do? Make a scene like your husband and get a divorce? Are you two doing well now?" My second sister was clearly embarrassed by my retort. She lowered her head, tears welling in her eyes. After dinner, she went to the kitchen to wash the dishes. I felt a surge of resentment. I went to the bathroom and turned the cold water on full blast. Yes, it's like owning a luxury car. You only have ownership, but the right to use it is in someone else's hands. Eventually, you discover that the car is actually a public bus; anyone can get on, but the owner doesn't even know who has been on it or how many people have been on it. Suddenly, the bathroom door opened, and my second sister slipped in. "Here's the mop, sorry." As the door closed again, I realized my little brother was proudly erect. "Oh no, she must have seen it and thinks I'm a pervert." Just as I was feeling embarrassed, her voice came from outside.
It's the weekend, and it's already broad daylight, but my wife still hasn't come home. I'm usually an early riser; I'd be out exercising and getting milk by now. But today I didn't get out of bed. To be precise, I was afraid to get up. I don't know how to face my second sister. Even though society is very open these days, and my wife has been with countless men, before last night, she was the only woman I knew. It's not that I'm not good-looking; she was initially attracted to me because of my appearance. I know my weakness: I don't know how to interact with others, especially women. If I hadn't lost control of my emotions yesterday, probably nothing would have happened. If only none of this had happened...
Actually, when I was little, because of my appearance, people always thought I was a little girl. Until I was five, my mother always dressed me like a girl, which made me feel very humiliated. So, during puberty, I deliberately acted more rebellious than other boys. But I gradually found that my deliberate attempts to appear masculine didn't earn me the respect of my classmates. On the contrary, many boys who developed early liked to play with me, sometimes gently rubbing (or stroking) my hand. Given the social environment at the time, touching a real girl inappropriately would have caused a huge scandal. {Actually, I'm not effeminate at all. Even now, seeing some grown men online who act neither male nor female and call themselves "cross-dressers" still makes me feel disgusted.} Later, two of my good friends had a fierce conflict, and one of them was eventually expelled from school. It wasn't until my homeroom teacher investigated the reason that I... I was surprised to learn that I was playing the role of someone's girlfriend. This was also the first time I had ever heard the word "homosexual." After this happened, I became the laughingstock of everyone. Girls avoided me, and even boys avoided me like the plague, fearing being called "homosexual." In the end, I was forced to transfer schools, taking two buses every day to go to a school 12 kilometers away from home. The teachers wanted me to live on campus, but I was afraid to. I didn't want people to pull down my pants to verify my identity in the dormitory. I shut myself off and became quiet. I longed to have a face like Ken Takakura, but fate played a cruel trick on me. My secondary sexual characteristics were not obvious. To this day, my Adam's apple is almost invisible unless you touch it. But I am a normally developing man, and I even have strong needs. However, my long-term self-isolation has left me with no friends. In a way, I envy my wife. She can actively get everything she wants, including me.
My parents were always proud of their son's handsome face when they were alive. Little did they know that this was the source of all my misfortunes. Unexplained exclusion, unwarranted attacks, and finally, when I met a mentor who seemed to understand and value me, I discovered over time that he was a bit abnormal. I remember when I met my in-laws after we were officially together, my mother-in-law was very happy, but my father-in-law had a long face and was firmly opposed. After half a year of effort, I finally won him over. He said helplessly, "It's not that I'm being paranoid, I'm just afraid that you'll be unfaithful and take advantage of my daughter in the future." Actually, it was the opposite. When I was with my wife, I was still a virgin, while she was already a seasoned prostitute.
"Dinner's ready!" came my second sister's voice from outside the door. She was actually much younger than me, but I just called her that because my wife called her that. But this time, I felt a surge of fear. I mustered my courage and went out, finding my second sister busy in the kitchen. Seeing me come out, she called out, "Come and taste it to see if it's seasoned." I wasn't very good at cooking. I went into the kitchen, and my blood began to boil. Although my second sister was wearing an apron, her nightgown underneath was almost transparent.
"Here you go," my second sister said without turning her head, handing me the chopsticks over her shoulder. I took them, and the sight before me had already aroused my little brother. My second sister didn't move away from the pot; she just leaned slightly to the left. I had no choice but to lean closer, reaching for the chopsticks over her. I felt my hardness touch something soft and elastic. My mind was already racing, and I couldn't even taste the food. "How is it? What are you spacing out for?" I took a step back and quickly said, "Delicious, delicious!" Looking at my second sister, her face was flushed, and she was laughing at me foolishly. I knew I had lost my composure, so I quickly bent down and left the kitchen, sitting down at the table. My second sister turned off the stove and strolled over... I sat down next to her. "I thought you weren't up to par, but yesterday I discovered you're even better than the yoga instructor I used to hire. I really don't know what my sister was thinking. Of course, even braised pork gets boring after a while; changing things up is only natural." Good heavens, like sister, like sister. It seems this second sister is no pushover either. As she spoke, she stood up and went to the kitchen to get some food. Looking at her beautiful back, I couldn't resist any longer. I rushed in after her. She was busy, and without a word, I lifted her nightgown. She let out a soft gasp, her hand on the stove, sticking her full buttocks out. "Hurry up, okay? It won't be good if my sister finds out..."
Perhaps due to excessive stimulation, I surrendered within minutes. Before I could even put my weapon away, I heard my wife's voice from the guest room: "Sister, you're up already? Where are my slippers? Hurry, I need to go to the bathroom." This sentence truly startled me.
It turned out that my wife had come home late yesterday and had slept in the guest room with my second sister. During dinner, I noticed that my wife's expression was perfectly normal; it seemed she hadn't noticed anything. My second sister, however, was much more awkward, her face flushed, constantly squirming on the stool. Perhaps she felt sticky down there and hadn't had time to wash, making her very uncomfortable. When my second sister got up to go to the kitchen, I noticed that there was a small wet patch on the buttocks of her pajamas.
Since there weren't many proper yoga studios in the area, my second sister's shop opened quickly. Because her shop was located in the more bustling northern part of the city, far from my home, she lived in the shop. Her business quickly became incredibly successful, and we saw each other much less often. Perhaps my second sister said something to my wife, because my wife was noticeably more family-oriented than before. Even so, I still felt a growing distance between us. She no longer nestled in my arms and watched her favorite Korean dramas with me like she used to, and even her speech became much more polite. In the end, she simply moved to the guest room to sleep, citing my snoring as the reason. At this point, I couldn't even feel sad anymore. Now, my wife had clearly become a stranger to me. We hadn't had sex for months. Last night, I dreamed of my wife, and when I woke up, I found that I had a wet dream. It's ridiculous that a married man would dream of his wife and even have a wet dream because of her.
I took a weekend trip to the outskirts of the city. Long hours of desk work have not only caused me to lose a lot of hair, but also given me severe neck pain. I really don't know what the urban construction department was thinking; they built such a massive square in such a remote place. The square is finished, but no residential areas have been built around it; there are still many low, dilapidated bungalows. The only downside is that the various small flowers in the square are quite beautiful, perfect for someone like me who wants to escape the hustle and bustle but is too lazy to go on a long hike. As I approached the bungalows near the square, I discovered that they had long been converted into commercial storefronts. One "massage" shop caught my eye. Why not give it a try? Perhaps a folk healer is hidden here. I lifted the curtain and went inside, finding a woman in her thirties watching TV. There was no one else in the room. A massage? The young woman stood up and asked me something. I nodded, a little surprised. I noticed that the masseuse's figure was very similar to my wife's. The masseuse led me to an inner room, where there was a simple massage bed surrounded by a thick curtain. The masseuse had me lie on the bed with my head facing inwards and began to massage me from head to toe. It was then that I noticed how sexy the masseuse was. Her face was undeniably beautiful, and her full thighs were dazzling in the dimly lit massage room, making my heart race. My little brother was already uncooperatively erect, the tent pitched high, and I wished I could turn into a little bug and burrow into the ground. Suddenly, the masseuse whispered, "You can touch me." I reached out my slightly trembling hand and placed it on her soft, warm thigh, then slowly moved it upwards. I tentatively touched that sensitive spot, and when I looked up, I found that the masseuse wasn't angry. Instead, she smiled gently at me. I mustered my courage and used my index finger to part the thin curtain
... Like a kite with a broken string, drifting further and further away, what can I do? I chase after her on the ground, hoping that one day she will tire of flying and fall back into my arms. What else can I do? I've read too many stories of wives cheating on their husbands on Tianya. Most rational husbands would painfully suppress their anger and give their wives a chance. After all, home is always a safe harbor. When they're tired of wandering, they will eventually come back. To be honest, I find it unbelievable when I see husbands excitedly describing their wives having sex with other men. How can one feel happy when their beloved is being played with by others? Even my last transaction with the massage girl ended halfway because the guilt that followed quickly overshadowed the initial pleasure. What am I doing? I'm doing such a dirty thing, exchanging sex for money. This is far more despicable than my wife's behavior. I must hold on to my wife; I can't let her leave me.
My wife grew increasingly cold towards me. Finally, on the evening of March 11, 2008, I had just finished watching the news and went to my study to finish the task my boss had assigned me. My wife walked up to me expressionlessly. "Let's get a divorce," she said. "Are you going to marry someone else?" I was so shocked I almost bit my tongue. "No, I just don't want to be a burden on this family anymore," I said. Before I could explain further, she turned and left. My mind went blank. "Started with love, ended with abandonment"—that phrase couldn't be more fitting for me.
Afterward, I did a series of foolish things. First, I caused a scene at my wife's workplace. Then, I launched attacks on the homes of several of her lovers, each one a different story. As a result, two of them had their families broken up, three couples separated, and some even left home for other places. I became the infamous cuckold. Ultimately, my wife resigned and disappeared without a trace.
I spent six months in a daze, feeling as if my soul had been hollowed out. During that time, I texted and called her countless times, begging for her forgiveness, but there was never any response. One day in September, she suddenly returned. Perhaps because we hadn't seen each other for so long, I thought she was even more beautiful,
exuding an alluring charm with every gesture. But the look in her eyes was no longer clear; it was as if seen through a thin veil, hazy and indistinct. She no longer loved me. It was a strange look in her eyes, a defensive look born of past hurt.
This time, she came back to get a divorce again. Although she treated me like a stranger, I still loved her. I couldn't lose her. I would never let her go unless I died.
Seeing that I had made my point clear, she sat down helplessly to the side. "Fine, then I'll move back in. You can't interfere in anything I do anymore. But if you can't stand it later, it's better to end it now." It seemed like a threat, but I wasn't afraid. If she gave me a cup of poison, I would drink it without hesitation. Everything seemed to have returned to the way it was before. I felt a quiet happiness in my heart.
The next day, as soon as I got off work, I busied myself preparing a lot of food and drinks. I wanted to have a small celebration. Besides, I hadn't touched my wife for more than half a year, and I missed her terribly. I was busy in the kitchen when my wife came home. She saw the candles and red wine I had lit on the table and exclaimed in surprise, "Oh!" "How romantic! Come, let me introduce you. This is my boyfriend, Xiao Wang." I then noticed a young man behind me. He seemed a little embarrassed; he clearly knew who I was, and they had already discussed how to deal with me. Xiao Wang politely nodded to me. I suppressed my displeasure and gestured for them to sit down. During the meal, my wife changed into a thin, sheer nightgown. I was shocked to notice that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. At the table, my wife and Xiao Wang sat on one side, and I sat on the other. My wife was only talking to Xiao Wang and barely paid attention to me, while Xiao Wang occasionally spoke to me... That one sentence made me less embarrassed. My wife kept putting food on Xiao Wang's plate throughout the meal. Suddenly, she said, "I want some red wine." I quickly handed her a glass, but she didn't take it. Instead, she turned her head and looked at Xiao Wang with deep affection. "I want you to feed me," she said. Xiao Wang took a sip of wine, glanced at me awkwardly, and then kissed my wife. I sat numbly across from her, the food in my mouth long since tasteless. But the passion across the table didn't end. My wife unbuttoned her collar, revealing her already aroused breasts. The young man lowered his head, passionately sucking and playing with them, as if the flavor of the entire meal was concentrated in my wife's breasts. Like her breasts, I knew my wife was deliberately trying to provoke me. I took a deep breath, completely ignoring the passionate performance across from me, and continued eating calmly. My wife's hair was disheveled. Suddenly, she lowered her head, seemingly taking something into her mouth. I glanced across the table and saw her head rising and falling, sucking passionately. That guy's hands weren't idle either, moving in and out between my wife's legs. Finally, my wife straddled me, facing me, lightly biting her lip, her body swaying up and down, her eyes fixed on me with a defiant look. I bravely met her gaze, trying to force me to submit in this way. How naive.

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