What I'm about to tell you isn't a fictional story; it happened in reality. Although my 25-year marriage was going smoothly, sexually, it was as cold as Siberia. My wife and I maintained only formal dialogue, for public consumption. In bed, we rarely had any kind of contact, such was the disinterest on both sides. Our sex life prior to this period was quite conventional. Although we had sex fairly frequently, we didn't engage in more daring practices. Oral sex was as conventional as it gets, and anal sex was out of the question. It was missionary sex with very few variations. Despite everything, I never imagined my wife would cheat on me. It didn't seem like her. She didn't display any traits of a fiery, sex-hungry woman.
But one day I was forced to change my mind. Let's get to the facts without any hint of fiction.
One day, due to difficulties at work, I had to come home early. "Arriving home late" had never happened before, but on this fateful day, it did. Before entering the living room of my residence, I passed through a small hall-like room with a door leading to the living room. Upon reaching this room, I heard moaning coming from the living room. I silently walked to the half-open door and through the crack saw the scene that nearly made me faint.
A muscular, glossy-skinned black man sat on the couch, leaning against the back, and my wife knelt between his legs, performing the typical cock-sucking motion. Every now and then, the man would perform the same fucking motions, except the pussy was my wife's mouth. At these moments, he would push her head against his cock, and the slut would choke and cough, but she wouldn't stop. On the contrary, she opened her mouth even wider, as if trying to swallow every inch of that monstrosity. From my position, I could see my wife's ass hiding a thong, the string buried deep in her crack, marking the cleavage of her buttocks in a way I'd never seen before.
Then the black man stood and continued thrusting into my wife's mouth, who was still on her knees. From this new position, I could see the size of his cock. It was gigantic and thick, a veritable black serpent throbbing with desire. But my wife swallowed with gusto, drooling and gagging, while his hands gripped her hair, pulling her hard with each thrust. Saliva ran down her chin, and her eyes were watery, but not from sadness—it was pure ecstasy.
Then they both stood and kissed with a passion I thought impossible for her. His tongue invaded her mouth as if it owned the space, and she responded with animal hunger, biting his lips and moaning softly. The next step was to have my wife sitting on the sofa, legs spread. Then he knelt and began to suckle her pussy with a devotion that made me dizzy. He didn't lick—he devoured, sucking her clitoris as if it were the last source of life on earth. She moaned, arching her back and burying her fingers in his curly hair.
He slid up and sucked her breasts eagerly, nibbling on her nipples until she cried out in pleasure. Then, standing before her, he commanded her to suckle again, which she did with a submission that left me astonished. It was as if he controlled her with invisible strings, and she was a puppet eager to please.
Then it was the man's turn to sit on the couch and, with his cock hard, order her to sit on his lap, facing away from him. She sat, and his gigantic cock was duly swallowed by her pussy. She rode his rod like a whore, moving up and down with a frenetic rhythm, while his hands gripped her hips, guiding each movement. He held her by the waist and drove the stake into her with brutal force. They fucked like this for a long time, her moans echoing through the room. Every now and then, his hands crushed her breasts as his gigantic cock ravished my wife, and I could see the pleasure etched on her face—a pleasure I had never been able to evoke.
I think he got tired of the position, so he forced her onto all fours and mercilessly rammed his cock into her pussy. She let out muffled screams into the arm of the sofa, and he moaned like an animal, sweating and pounding hard against those buttocks, now red from the impact. From his position, I could see the black man's balls slapping against my wife's ass, and the wet sound of penetration filled the air. My cock was hard, my hands were shaking, and I almost came right there, without touching myself. He called her a bitch, a slut, and she begged for more, begging for more force, more depth.
When he finally stopped, I thought it was over. But no. He rolled off her and sat on the couch, and she fell back on him, sucking his cock, slick with her own juices. She sucked with a devotion that seemed religious, licking his balls and swallowing the swollen head with obscene pleasure.
Then came the climax. He put her on all fours again and licked her asshole. I could see her body writhing with desire, her back arched as his tongue explored a territory I'd never dared to invade. Now she was moaning loudly, and her fingers dug into the sofa. I couldn't see it clearly, but I imagine his tongue was roaming my wife's folds, preparing her for what was to come. I felt she was about to lose her asshole virginity, though I still doubted it due to the size of his cock. I thought my wife would reject him, as she always did with me. After all, she claimed not to enjoy anal sex. But I was sorely mistaken.
After licking her asshole for several minutes, the man reached into her bag and took out some lubricant, which he used to coat the head of his cock and the entrance to her ass. With his cock pointed at the entrance to my wife's virgin anus, he nuzzled it and began to thrust. Every now and then, my wife wiggled her ass and pressed her ass toward the man, as if begging for more. She gave a high-pitched scream when the head entered, and he stopped, asking if it hurt.
She said yes, her voice trembling, but immediately added, "Please don't stop." He continued, pushing his black shaft into her with cruel patience. It was only a matter of time. Dexterously, the black man slowly pushed his rod in, and my wife swallowed until, with a long moan, she welcomed that huge cock into her ass. My wife's anal virginity had died in the cock of a well-endowed black man, and she felt more alive than ever.
After nestling that monstrosity in my wife's ass, he stood still for a while, as if letting her get used to it, until he began to move, fucking her ass with deep thrusts. I noticed he held her tightly by the waist and pulled her against him, while she moaned and begged for more, once again assuming the role of submissive whore. He thrust hard, sweating and growling, calling my wife every name in the book. And she loved every word, every thrust.
I was pissed, but uncontrollably horny. I'd never seen my wife like that—wild, free, completely in control. It was like seeing a stranger, a woman I'd never met in 25 years of marriage.
After a while, he pulled his rod out of her and sat on the couch, ordering her to face away from him, but to sit with her ass. She did so without hesitation, guiding his cock inside her with her own hands. There wasn't much anal resistance this time, as her already-torn asshole swallowed his gigantic cock without difficulty, and she began riding him again, this time with a look of victory on her face. While the man feasted on my wife's ass, she masturbated frantically, and I could see her orgasm several times, her body trembling with ecstasy.
Finally, after much fucking in this position, he forced her onto all fours again and thrust his cock inside her once more. He pounded, pounded, pounded, until he came in my wife's ass with a roar. So much cum ran down her ass and thighs, forming a white stream that dripped onto the floor. Then, exhausted, he threw himself on the couch, allowing my wife to resume sucking that now semi-flaccid monster, licking it clean as if it were her last meal.
When I realized they were finished, I quietly left and went to my car, which was parked near my house. It took about half an hour before I saw the man come out. I don't know what they did (or if they did anything) in the meantime, but I imagine they kissed, showered together, that sort of thing. In truth, I was a mix of horny and angry, not knowing what to do. But it was intriguing and different, it was. My relationship with her didn't change at all, but I know that experience was good for her—and, paradoxically, for me too.