I heard them enter a rhythm. They were not having sex. They were FUCKING. I'm not sure I ever fucked my wife. I only made love to her, and poorly ...t that.And hearing my wife get FUCKED made me hard. Very, very hard. My compulsions got the better of me. I reached down into my pants. I was hard, wet, and excited. And I engaged myself, in the most shameful way I ever did.I heard them get rough. I heard slapping. I heard her pleasure. She was loud. Louder than ever with me. I was so. She sat there, just looking at him. About an hour ago, he had taken a break and had a shower. His hair was now dry, but it was a rugged mess from running his hands through it repeatedly. He had tossed on a pair of loose black pants and a grey tee that she'd laid out for him. His hand kept reaching for his coffee mug, bringing it to his lips. But it was empty, and it had been for a while. It was a subconscious habit, more than for the want of a drink.She would get him a fresh cup soon, but for. More

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