Adultery The Liberal Husband

[Sengolan]

The stranger began a slow, agonizingly deep rhythm, each slide out leaving her pussy gaping and dripping, only to be slammed shut again by the sheer girth of his shaft. He looked at me, his expression cool, almost bored, while Sushma was in the throes of a primal ecstasy. "Look at her, Aman. Look at how she takes it. She's not just accepting this; she's craving it because you're just... not enough."



Sushma let out a broken, wet moan, her eyes rolling back into her head. "He's right... oh god, he's so much thicker," she gasped, her voice a velvet rasp of desperation. "Aman, your cock is just a tease... it’s a toy compared to this. I can feel every single vein of his prick filling me... stretching my walls until they scream."


The stranger let out a low, dark chuckle, his hand sliding down to grip her heavy, rounded ass, lifting her slightly to drive himself even deeper. "You hear that, Aman? Your wife is starving, and you're just the man holding the menu."


"I can see it," I rasped, my hand trembling as I watched the way her pussy clamped around him, the cream-colored juices of her arousal foaming around the base of his cock. "I can see how much she loves being used by a real man."


"I love it!" Sushma shrieked, her back arching violently as he slammed into her again. "I love how he just owns me! Aman, you're so sweet, so careful... but he's just... he's just destroying my cunt! Your little, soft prick could never make me feel this kind of pressure. I'm a slut for it... a soaking wet slut for a cock that actually fills the void."


The stranger shifted his angle, his hips snapping forward with a rhythmic, punishing precision. The sound was obscene—a heavy, wet *slap* of flesh against flesh that echoed through the shadowed corner of the gallery. He leaned in, his voice a dark vibration against her ear. "Does he even know how to handle a pussy this wet, Sushma? Or does he just like to watch while a real man does the work?"


"He doesn't know!" she wailed, her fingers clawing at the polished floor. "He's insufficient! He's just... a spectator to my pleasure! Oh god, yes! Drive it in deeper! Stretch my pussy open until I can't even close around you!"


I felt a surge of electric heat, a cocktail of inadequacy and raw, primal arousal. The "liberal" husband I had tried to be was now a spectator to his own wife’s awakening. I stepped closer, my own cock pulsing in a frantic, painful rhythm, my hand sliding over the curve of her shoulder to feel the tremors racking her body.