My wife, with her striking curves—36, 30, and 48—stood at about 5’5″ and was the love of my life. Back when she was my girlfriend, we found ourselves in a long-distance relationship. She relocated to a new city for her job but struggled to find a place to rent on her own. Out of concern, I suggested she stay with a close friend of mine temporarily.
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One evening, wanting to surprise her, I took a train to visit. Upon reaching my friend’s apartment, it was already dark, and as I approached his open door, I was confronted with a scene that froze me in place. There he was, mounting my girlfriend from behind, his hands gripping her firm hips as they moved together in a raw, doggy-style rhythm. Trembling, I couldn’t look away; I simply stood there, silently absorbing the intimate act unfolding before me.
In the days that followed, my girlfriend confessed everything. She revealed how he had used her relentlessly, treating her like his personal plaything—taking her virginity in ways I never had. Their encounters weren’t confined to private moments; he exposed her on staircases, terraces, even in the presence of his friends. She admitted that being apart from me made her vulnerable, and he seized that, igniting desires within her that she wished to explore further. She said she enjoyed it, wanted it to continue, and I found myself powerless to intervene.
This unconventional arrangement endured for several years. Whenever I tried to reach her, he often answered the phone—sometimes she was pleasuring him orally, other times he was buried deep inside her voluptuous curves. Their union was more frequent and passionate than any we had shared. My wife still regards him as the most intense lover she’s ever known, crediting him with opening her eyes to pleasures she had never imagined. And even now, whenever their paths cross, their secret liaisons continue unabated.
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