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After I done watching the recording of Sharon and Or, I left the office, went to an electronics store, bought hidden network cameras (with even better quality), and installed them in every room in the house, including the bathrooms and the toilet – if something is going to happen in my house, I want to know about it. The cameras will only record if there is movement, so it will be easier for me to know if something is happening, when, and where.
Since all of this took quite some time, I had to make up for the lost hours at work. I informed Sharon that I would be coming home later than usual.
I continued working while occasionally receiving notifications on my phone about movements in the house – Sharon had arrived and was alone at home, so I didn't pay much attention to it.
Meanwhile, I had time to think about what I wanted next. A few things were clear to me:
– I really love Sharon
– From one hand It hurts to see them.
– From the other hand, seeing them turn me on like i never felt before.
– My climax was so satisfying, like sex itself (which I hadn't had much of recently)
What's the conclusion? I had no idea.
Was it a one-time thing? Do I want it to continue?! Should I tell them that i know?! "Is it possible that something sweet will come out of it and Sharon will be like that with me either? What does this say about me? About Sharon? About Or? Too many questions were running through my mind.
My head started to hurt, and I couldn't focus on work anymore. I left earlier than I had planned. During the drive, I decided to just wait and stop overthinking for now. I'll see what happens in the next few days and think it through then. Maybe it was really a one-time thing and will help release Sharon sexually?! Turn out i was so wrong 🙁
I opened the front door and saw Or sprawled out on the chair at the table, a plate of food in front of him—looked like he was in the middle of eating. His head was tilted back, eyes closed, with this dreamy expression on his face. I shut the door a little louder than usual, just to make sure they knew I was home. Or jumped slightly and shifted in his seat, like he was adjusting something under the table. Three seconds later, Sharon popped up from underneath it, her hair a mess.
"Here’s the fork—I found it!" she said proudly, holding it up. Then she looked genuinely surprised to see me. "Hey, honey! What’s up? I thought you said you’d be home late?"
"Yeah, I wasn’t feeling great—my head was killing me and I couldn’t concentrate. What about you two? Getting along alright?"
I knew exactly what Sharon had been doing under the island. It was obvious. Obvious, painful… and somehow arousing.
Or and Sharon mumbled something about everything being fine, that they were just sitting down to eat.
I joined them for dinner. Throughout the meal, Sharon and Or ignored each other and didn't exchange any word. Both were interested and focused on me – I didn't know how to handle this.
We finished eating, and Sharon went into her usual evening routine with the baby—bath, breastfeeding, then putting him to sleep. But this time, instead of nursing him in his room like she usually does, she brought him to the living room and breastfed him right there with us.
I asked her about it, and she answered innocently that it was just more convenient in the living room—better than sitting alone in the baby’s room. As for breastfeeding without a cover, I didn’t even bring it up. I know her too well. She’d just say, ‘Breastfeeding is the most natural thing in the world—it’s just food for the baby.’ But the way Or kept sneaking glances? That wasn’t so natural. And maybe… that was exactly the point.
So there we were, all sitting in the living room. Sharon was focused on the baby, Or kept glancing back and forth between her breasts and the TV, and I couldn’t stop looking between the two of them—still stuck on what I’d seen under the kitchen table just minutes ago. Judging by Or’s lingering stares and the bulge in his pants, he hadn’t exactly finished and was clearly still turned on. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was drained, overwhelmed, and completely unable to make sense of it all. I just needed space.
"Alright, I’m gonna call it a night. My head’s still pounding, and I’m wiped out. I’m gonna take a shower and crash."
Neither of them said a word—just smiled and kept on doing their own thing.
I put on my new waterproof earphones—figured if anything happened, at least I’d be able to hear it—and headed for the shower. I was turned on and started to touch myself. It didn’t take long before I heard Or’s voice.
"Do you know that I didn't cum earlier, right? And now you're sitting in front of me like this. I'm going to explode."
"You know that I didn't cum from last night, right?" she replied playfully.
"i told you before I can't start and not cum. I can barely control myself once I start."
"I'm sorry, but I didn't expect him to come in the middle. He said he'd be home late. Lucky for you, the fork was in your hand." she giggled.
"I didn’t expect you to surprise me like that in the middle of dinner. And you know what they say—‘Don’t leave things half done!’ so make me came instead of sitting like this with your boobs out!" He wasn’t joking. He sounded genuinely irritated.
“I’m sorry, but the baby’s here eating—it’s not the time or place to do this, or even talk about it,” she said. “You’ll have to wait or take care of it yourself.”
Or didn’t say a word, and that was the end of the conversation.
I stepped out of the shower just as Sharon was heading upstairs to put the baby to sleep. I could barely look at her. She wished me goodnight as I walked into the bedroom. Good night? I thought. What night, and what’s so good about it?
I didn’t cry, but tears still ran down my face as I lay there, trying to process the day—trying to figure out what had just happened, what was going to happen… and what the hell might happen tonight. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep.
I woke up in the morning feeling like I’d slept like the dead. I had no idea if anything happened during the night—or what. Part of me was relieved I’d installed the cameras. “Relieved” might not be the right word, but… you get what I mean.
I was up before everyone else, and Sharon was still asleep beside me. She looked so beautiful lying there, peaceful. I yearned to reach out, to touch her, to feel her warmth—her body, her love.
I caressed her, first on her back along her spine, then gently down to her round, firm buttocks. I lingered a bit on the lower part of her buttocks (the area I love to caress, between the buttocks and the leg) and then moved up to her smooth thighs.
I kept caressing and kissing her, a little less gently now. Still asleep, she let out a soft moan and mumbled, ‘Yes… Or…’ I froze. In that instant, a storm of emotions hit me—fury, deep humiliation, bitter disappointment. All of it tangled into raw frustration. But more than anything, I just wanted her. Not just sex—I craved her love, her closeness, the intimacy we used to share. And as I kept touching and kissing her, my frustration twisted into something even more painful. I felt humiliated… tears started to fall as I got harder.
I left her soaked underwear and gently moved towards her breasts, the breasts that I hadn't touched for so long and that I missed so much. Finally, I cupped her swollen boob, but immediately Sharon jumped and woke up half panic:
"Honey, you know I can't handle you touching my breasts. It's too sensitive right now."
My mind highlighted the word "you."
I didn't know how to respond, I lowered my hand and understood—what applies for Or doesn't apply for me. These are two different worlds with different rules, but what is my role in this world? I didn't have to wait long to get the answer.
"Honey, if you've already started, you know what they say—‘Don’t leave things half done!’ make me came " She smiled and gently pushed my head down. I was in shock. Was she seriously quoting Or now?!
She pulled down her underwear and pushed my head into her pussy. The moment my tongue touched her clit, she let out a strong moan, perhaps even too strong.
I started to drink her, and not just as a phrase. She literally was dripping like that night years ago when Or fucked her mouth, and I had no doubt that something had happened during the night. There was no other explanation.
I felt so small and humiliated. Here I am, a married man, a senior manager, who sees himself as strong, going down and pleasing my wife after she (probably) pleased my best friend, and it was him who managed to bring her to such a strong arousal. and now i'm pleasing her with great lust just to feel close to her.
I licked and sucked every area of her pussy, and it was so tasty. Quite quickly, I felt Sharon was approaching her peak. She pushed my head hard onto her clit and raised her hips accordingly.
"Yes… here… just one more second…"
And then she screamed, "Aaaahhhh I'm coming!!!!!! don't stop !!!! Yessssss Aaaahhhh"
I had no doubt Or heard it—maybe that’s what she wanted? I couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not, but I started wondering if the neighbors heard it too. She was never vocal during sex before—always too self-conscious, afraid someone might hear.
A second later, we heard the baby crying (he was probably startled by her scream). I didn't have time to say anything, and Sharon pulled up her underwear and ran to him.
I had hoped that this would lead to sex, penetration- the long-awaited intercourse that I had been craving for almost a year.
"I got ready in a rush, shouted, ‘Bye! I’m going to work,’ and bolted out of the house. I didn’t want to see Sharon, and I was afraid I might run into Or—but more than anything, I just needed to find out what had happened during the night.
During the drive, I got a motion alert from the house. I hit play, and heard Or’s voice:
"Yeah, half sugar."
Some background noise from the kitchen, then he spoke again:
"So? I heard you had a good morning," he chuckled.
Sharon giggled. "Yeah, haha. What? You heard that?"
"Hard not to," he said with a grin. "Sounds like it was really good."
"It was… incredibly satisfying," she admitted.
"Good. That’s his job—he’s your husband." He emphasized 'his job', like he was making it perfectly clear that this was a husband's duty—not his.
"Yeah, well… after the last two days, I needed a release," she said, teasingly.
That did it—I had to get to the office and see what happened last night. My pines was already aching.
He nodded in agreement. I got the sense that wasn’t the reaction she’d been hoping for.
Then… silence. If I had to guess, it was probably the awkward kind. Or was cold toward her—something I’d never really seen in him before. Then again, there were clearly a lot of sides to him I didn’t know.
A few minutes later, I heard Or say, “Thanks for the coffee. I’m heading out,” and then the sound of the door closing.
I nearly ran into the office, trying to adjust my hard-on so it wouldn’t be obvious. Just the thought of what I was about to see had me insanely turned on. I stepped inside and locked the door behind me.
I stripped off my pants, sank into the chair, and opened the footage from last night.
There we were in the living room. I skipped forward. I saw myself heading into the shower—it was a weird feeling, watching myself like that. I jumped ahead again. Sharon was putting the kid to bed, and Or was still in the living room… I skipped a bit more.
Sharon stepped out of the kid’s room and walked straight into the shower. Watching her undress and step under the water was insanely hot—I was so focused on her I didn’t even notice what Or was doing in the living room. I didn’t expect him to follow her… especially not into our shower instead of his guest one.
He didn’t sneak or hesitate, he simply entered and went straight to her. Her eyes widened in shock as he grabbed her firmly by the neck, tilting her head back.
“You little tease,” he growled, his voice low and intense. “You start something with me and then walk away? then you provoke me with those boobs like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing?”
His hand tightened just enough to make her gasp, and with his other, he slapped her breast hard, gripping her nipple and twisting. I’d never seen Or like this—commanding, rough, dominant. It was surreal. I almost didn’t recognize the guy I’d known for over a decade always so nice, kind and respectful.
Honestly, I was scared. I was sure he is hurting her. He was actually choking her. And Sharon? She didn’t resist. She just smiled at him—wicked, hungry.
Still holding her by the throat, he pushed her down to her knees. She looked up at him, breathless, as if asking what he wanted next.
He pressed harder on her neck- “Open up” he ordered.
My wife obeyed immediately, unbuckling his pants, tugging down his underwear. He was still in his work clothes. Sharon never even touched me before a shower—but with Or, she didn’t seem to care.
He pull her head in to his crotch and only then released her throat. Her nose brushed his balls as she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
Even on video, seeing his cock always shocked and filled with envy —thick, smooth, powerful, with a prominent vein pulsing along the shaft with a pair of smooth and enormous balls hanging below. It suited this version of Or—raw, intense, and in total control.
Sharon wasted no time. She started kissing and licking his balls, clearly eager. Or grabbed her head—one hand under her chin, the other twisted in her hair – he stopped her.
He nodded his head “No teasing,” he said, his voice sharp. “Suck.”
No warning. No slow build-up. He shoved his cock into her mouth in one hard thrust, burying it to the base. I didn’t even know something like that was possible, especially with a cock that size. My body reacted instantly—I came, hard, without even touching myself.
Sharon’s eyes flew open, surprised, but Or just closed his eyes and held her still, making sure every inch of him stayed inside her throat.
Then he started thrusting. Fast. Relentless. Holding her head and moving it in sync with his hips. He wasn’t making love—he was using her mouth like it was a sex toy. And the craziest part? She didn’t fight it. She gave in completely.
After about a minute, he pulled back, just for a moment, and said, “You need more spit. Here.”
He bent down and spit a thick line of saliva right into her mouth—twice.
And Sharon? She moaned. Closed her eyes. Started rubbing herself furiously, two fingers buried deep between her legs.
I came again. Couldn’t hold myself. And even then, I kept stroking. As I was there, in it with them.
Or kept going. For nearly 5 minutes, he fucked her throat like a porn star—deep, fast, brutal rhythm. Sharon had to stop touching herself just to steady herself against the shower wall.
Then suddenly, he pulled her head tight against him and growled, loud:
“Take it, you filthy slut… I’m coming!”
And I came with him. Again. Third time in a row.
His whole body tensed, staying deep in her throat while he came in long, powerful spurts. I counted five. Sharon swallowed every one.
When he let go, she dropped on her hands, coughing and gasping. Or just smiled, calm again.
“Thanks, Sharoni,” he said sweetly—like he hadn’t just dominated her mouth like an animal.
He pulled his pants back up and turned to leave. “Now you get why I said—once I start, I have to came – i can't control it.”
And then he walked out, leaving her there.
Sharon licked her lips, caught her breath, and just… continued her shower like nothing even happened.
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