52. Wife's POV

*Knock *Knock

Hmm? I knitted my eyebrows, unsure where the sound came from.

“Don’t tell me Ray was right. Am I actually hearing things because of the stress?”

*Knock *Knock

…Oh. Guess not.

I pushed myself up from the sofa and walked toward the door, already half-expecting Lina. She probably came to check up on him.

*Creak

The door opened, and the moment I caught a glimpse of the figure standing outside, I yanked the door back until a narrow gap remained, just short of shutting it completely.

“My, My,” the old man growled, his tone mockingly wounded. “I am hurt.”

An involuntary reaction, the kind a prey has to its predator. My knuckles whitened around the handle, squeezing the life out of it. Sweat dampened my palm, slick against the metal.

My heart pounded anxiously in my chest as I stared at the narrow gap, forcing myself to speak up without making it anymore awkward than it already was, I-Is there… something you need?” My voice came out nervously scared.

He leaned closer, his one eye and that dirty mouth of his was visible from the small gap of the door, breath seeping through with his words. “YOU.”

My blood pressure spiked, my heart hammering so hard I thought my husband could wake up any second. I trembled, every nerve on edge. “W-What do you mean by that? [Even though I already knew the answer.] A-And please… be considerate of where you are.” I was certain my words were useless against him, but still, I needed to try—needed to make him realize there was a boundary he couldn't cross so boldly.

His mouth curved into a crooked smile, eyes feasting on my body, voice light and creepy. “What I mean… is exactly what you heard, lady”

“Now. Open. The. Door.”

A shiver cracked down my spine, leaving me trembling and breathless. The distance to shut the door was so small. All I had to do was pull, just a little, just one firm tug, and it would all end here. He would not be able to push any further. But why?... Why? Why? Why?

Why was I not pulling back?

I looked at my hand, trying to convince it to listen. Just pull. Just little more. You can't give up. Not today. Not now.

And my hand did listen... not my words, but his.

Damn it. I cursed silently, frustration and something dirty clawing at me. Was he holding the door from the other side, or... or... or...

*Sigh

I gave up. The tight grip I had before was gone, my strength slipping away with every second. It was useless to even try.

And then he pushed. The door gave way, my hand still numb on the handle.

The door opened slowly, in a dramatic way. My body coiling like a spring. I prepared myself to not give any opening to this lecherous old man. He took a step in, and I took a step back.

"I did not expect this treatment, lady." He stepped closer and I stepped further back, trying to create a safe distance.

"I… I have come to check on your husband as a concerned neighbor," his voice suddenly shaking. "This… this is how you are treating me?"

“N-No. That was not my inten-”

*Thud

My heel hit the shoebox behind me, making me stumble over it. He cut in instantly, shutting the door behind him. "Whatever it may be, I am hurt and you need to be taught a lesson."

My eyes widened, panic scratching my entire body, breath coming out fast. I could feel him closing the space between us, his presence overwhelmingly heavy.

This... Old bastard ❤

He leaned closer, with a creepy smile on his face. And my hand went up slowly to try to keep distance. "Y-You cannot… he is inside," I whispered pleadingly.

His smile softened, reassuring, in a wrong way. "Is that so?" he said.

...

Hnnngh.... ❤

His fingers shot right inside my cunt. Even my panties went along with them inside. Then slowly, he dragged his fingers out, bringing it close to my face.

This,” he whispered, his voice dirty and teasing, “this is your reality, lady. Stop pretending.”

He extended one hand toward me, palm open. My face burned as I hesitated, then shyly placed my hand in his.

“Better,” he murmured approvingly, pulling me closer. His chest pressed against mine, and his grip was impossibly tight, as if he had been starved for this contact for years. My breath shuddered at the pressure, words coming out weakly, “E-easy… its… too tight.”

He ignored me, his stinky, heavy presence pressing me further, his deep moans hitting my ear. My own moans matched the rhythm of his, heat and tension coursing through every nerve. I realized I was trapped between fear, desire, and the intoxicating pull of submission, unable to resist even if I wanted to.

“Lift your skirt up,” he whispered, the command ringing hard in my ear.

My eyes shut tight, shame crashing hot across my face, but my hands still moved on their own.

Oops, who was I fooling? They didn’t move on their own. I moved them. Every nerve awake, every thought screaming. Because I wanted to. Because I loved it.

I reached back, fingers trembling as they caught the hem of my skirt and slowly raised it, exposing myself to him. Humiliation crawling inside my every nerve, and I surrendered to it... Wholeheartedly.

More… humiliate me more❤, my mind begged silently, drowning in the twisted thrill.

*Smack

My body jolted forward as both his hands landed heavy across my ass, the sting spreading through me, stealing my breath.

“Ready for the lesson?” he whispered, voice rough and deadly.

My lips opened helplessly, the answer slipping out in a weak, shaking whisper against his ear. “Y-Yes…”

“Dirty little slut,” he whispered seductively, his breath tickling, his voice dripping with lust. “Look at this plump ass. Delicious”

I steadied my shivering legs, enjoying every word while whimpering in his ear.

“Tell me,” his crooked hand trailed lower, gripping me shamelessly. “Where is he?”

I gulped hard, my voice trembling. “In… in the living room.”

“And...” I took a pause, before completing the sentence. “H-he’s sleeping,” I added, shame thick on my tongue. I hadn’t said it to report his condition. It was a hidden message, my way of telling him to keep going because my husband wouldn’t wake. I hoped he caught on.

A grin spread across his face. “Good.”

We started moving towards our destination, intimately pressed to each other. He guided me brutally, the way I like and enjoy. My step backwards, with his hand coming down on my ass harder and harder, and I only held him tighter and tighter.

*Smack *Smack

Each strike jolted through me, my breath catching, torn between dread and an unbearable heat pooling in my womb.

The closer we came to the living room, the tighter my chest grew, every step a cruel reminder of how close I was bringing him to my husband.

I dared a glance over my shoulder, needing to see how near we were—only for his rough fingers to grip my chin and twist my face back in place. “No turning back, lady,” he murmured. “Stay still. Don’t worry… I’ve got you.”

My pulse thundered as I obeyed, every smack on my ass echoing like a drumbeat, shame and desire fusing into one.

We stood right at the doorway of the living room where my husband was sleeping. My back was turned to him, my body caught between fear and excitement. The old man swung both his hands together at my exposed ass.

*Smack

I staggered on my feet, legs bending, digging into the floor as though the hit had stolen my balance. My hands were tight around his neck. His palms grabbed me rough, squeezing, groping, slapping without pause. He spread my cheeks wide, like he was showing my husband the view he never had, of his wife's dirty ass. He held them there, then clapped them back together with a wet sting that made me bite down on my lip.

My stomach felt all light. My mind screamed this was wrong, but my body knew better. Each grope, each wet clap echoed across the room. His fingers slid through my crack, rubbing, digging in, kneading the soft flesh while his other hand came down sharp again and again.

*Smack *Smack

My legs buckled under it. Every time he struck, my thighs trembled, knees knocking. I clung tighter around his neck, desperate, my chest pressing hard against him. Shame burned inside me, a sick thought rising unbidden.

What if he was awake… watching this? My throat went dry. Just like last time… watching me like this, exposed, being ruined. God help me… I wish he saw this side of me again.

The old man tilted his head closer, breathing heavy. Then slowly, his fist tangled in my hair, pulling my head back. My body shook, throat stretched, lips opening into a faint gasp. His dirty breath brushed my ear, his grip cruel, as though he already knew every wrong thought inside me.

His mouth clamped down on my neck, sucking wet and loud, lips dragging, teeth scraping until I flinched. My knees on the verge of giving out, thighs rubbing together, and before I could stop it, a faint moan spilled out of me. The sound froze me inside, panic and thrill mixing, because I knew who was just a few feet away.

He pulled back suddenly. My breath hitched when he stepped away only to press his crotch forward, shoving the heavy bulge right at my cunt. The hint was clear. My stomach twisted in shame as my body moved. Slowly, I dropped to my knees.

I reached trembling fingers toward his shorts, tugging them down. The stench hit me instantly, sharp and musky. My nose wrinkled, twisting helplessly, but I swallowed the disgust, gulping hard. As the fabric slid down, the thick weight of his cock bounced free, smacking against my chin.

I froze, half dazed, staring. It was only half-hard, yet already so heavy, dangling inches from my lips. The smell clung to me, raw and unbearable. My hand rose instinctively, wrapping around the heat, and the warmth seared my palm, strangely comforting in its filth.

Just as I leaned forward, ready to shame myself further, his hand knotted cruelly in my hair. “H-hey…” I whimpered, clutching at his wrist. He yanked, dragging me, my scalp hurting.

“Come on,” he growled, low and mocking. “Move your ass, lady.”

I had no choice but to crawl. My knees shuffled along the floor, my body bent low, pulled like an obedient dog wherever he led. My heart sank when I realized where he was guiding me—right infront ofthe sofa. Right infront of my husband.

My throat closed up, horror and heat rising together. I dared a side glance at him—peacefully asleep, unaware.

Wake up, I cursed him silently, rage and despair colliding. Wake the fuck up. See me. Save me. Or… damn me.

I wrapped my fingers around his cock, the skin rough, hot, sticky with sweat. Slowly, I stroked it, each pull of the skin making my cunt throb harder. My eyes slid sideways, fixed on the man just an arm’s length away—my husband, lying hurt, helpless, and completely oblivious.

A bitter laugh scraped my throat, but it never made it out. What a fucking bitch I am. Here I was, stroking an old man’s filthy cock—God, he probably hadn’t bathed in a week—right next to my husband, who had just been carried in from a clinic. I should be worried for him, praying for him… and instead I’m jerking this disgusting thing off.

The thought stung, but it also pushed my hand faster. I cursed myself with every stroke, shame burning through me. Slut. Whore. Bitch. My lips parted, breath trembling, and then finally I gave in.

I leaned forward, closing my eyes tight, and took that revolting cock into my mouth. The bitter taste hit instantly, musky and sour, making my stomach lurch. My throat gagged around him, spit leaking down my chin.

But I didn’t close my eyes for long. No. They snapped back open, locked onto my husband’s face, desperate and broken. Every wet suck, every humiliating bob of my head, my gaze never left him. Watching him breathe so peacefully while I drowned myself in filth.

“But where’d that hesitation disappear to, huh?” he growled, voice thick with amusement. “Minutes ago, you were trembling like a saint dragged into sin.” He hit his foot right on my cunt, “Now look at you.”

I moaned over his cock, while gagged alongside it, the disgusting stink pulling me deeper, burning its way into my nose, coating my tongue. My jaw ached, spit trailing down my chin, but I couldn’t stop. Not with his hand locked in my hair, keeping me right there.

He bent forward suddenly, his breath hot and foul against my ear. Both his hands stretched past my head, fingers clawing at my top until it was pulled over me in one shove. My tits jiggled at the impact, bouncing inside my bra.

“Fuck, yes…” His voice cracked in pure greed as he fumbled at the straps desperately, pulling until the bra gave way. My tits spilled free, the cool air hitting them a split second before his rough palms did.

“Ahhh,” he groaned, groping me like a starving man, squeezing until my nipples hurt. “This… this is what I always wanted. To lay my hands on these juicy tits. Oh. My. God.” His words poured like poison into my ears, each syllable making me hornier and crazier.

He pressed my tits together, kneading them desperately, his thumbs rolling over my hardened tips. I kept my mouth wrapped around him, choking, slobbering, while his hands made my chest ache.

I pulled back with a wet pop, gasping, sucking in air like I was drowning. Strings of spit clung from my lips to his cock, sliding down to my knuckles. I wiped at my chin, smearing drool across my skin, then wrapped one hand around his shaft, stroking it hard and slick, up and down. My wrist ached, but I didn’t stop, couldn’t stop.

And all the while my eyes—red, watering, and burning with lust—never left the man sleeping on the sofa.

“Up,” the old man grunted, grabbing my wrist and tugging me hard. I stumbled to my feet, chest heaving, spit still clinging to my chin. He crouched down low in front of me, his rough palms sliding over my thighs.

“Let me…” he muttered, voice raspy and reverent.

He turned me, my body facing my husband on the sofa. My pulse hammered in my throat as his fingers hooked into my panties, tugging them inch by inch, dragging them down in a slow, mocking strip. I stood still, frozen, my knees weak, my eyes locked on the man who meant everything to me—sleeping, helpless, unaware.

My panties slid down my legs and pooled at my ankles. I looked at him then looked at my husband—with a filth smeared on my heart. My lips trembled, shame dripping with every word as I whispered inside my head, “I love you… I love you so much. Please, open your eyes. I beg of you… please.”

But he didn’t. He just lay there, breathing softly, while another man exposed me right in front of him.

The old man’s face pressed forward. His nose brushed my open cunt, inhaling deep, his hot breath fanning across my folds.

“Ahhh,” he moaned, his whole body shuddering. “This… this is heaven.”

The heat of his breath made my thighs quiver. I pressed my pussy against his face without meaning to, grinding softly, a pathetic moan slipping past my lips.

“Mmmphhh—ahhh!”

Then his mouth clamped down. His tongue lashed against me, rough and greedy, sucking and slurping like he wanted to eat me alive.

“F-fuuuckkk!” I screamed, clapping both hands over my mouth, body jolting. His tongue dove deep, flicking, circling, slurping every drop I had to give.

My legs shook violently, my knees nearly giving out as wave after wave crashed through me. My cunt gushed against his tongue, soaking his mouth as he drank it in like water.

He didn’t stop. He kept sucking the shit out of me, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of my trembling body. I clawed at his few strands of hair, grinding harder into his mouth, every scream muffled against my palms.

“Ahhh—ahhh, nooo—p-please—I’m—ahhh—f-fuckkkk!”

I collapsed on the floor, my body breaking, my voice cracking as shame and ecstasy swallowed me whole.

He licked his lips like he’d just tasted something divine. Then he slapped my thigh, rough and impatient.

“Be strong, lady,” he rasped, his voice thick with hunger. “The real fun is about to begin.”

My chest rose and fell fast, my lungs begging for air, but I still nodded. “Y-yesh… the real fun…❤” My voice cracked, enjoying the shame curling in my belly. I responded by spreading my legs wide open, shamelessly inviting him in.

He looked at me, smirked, then shook his head. “Ahhh, not like that. I can’t in that position. Stand up.”

My knees wobbled, but I stood, where he positioned me, facing the sofa—facing my husband still asleep, his chest rising so peacefully while I prepared to let another man use me. The old man stepped behind me, and I heard the wet sound of him spitting. A second later, the thick smear of spit coated his cock, and then it pressed against me.

“Hnnn,” I gasped, my cunt twitching as the blunt head rubbed up and down my slit. The pressure made me shudder, my fingers digging into the edge of the sofa for balance.

He leaned close to my ear, his breath hot. “Hmmm… I was this close to fucking your cunt last time. And you ran away like a scared little bitch.”

A sharp smack landed on my ass, the sound cutting through the air. I jerked forward, my face twisting, my tits bouncing at the impact.

“Try running away now,” he growled, his cock pressing harder against my hole.

I whimpered, shaking my head. “I… I can’t… I don’t...want to…” My voice was pitiful, needy. The truth was filth—I had nowhere to run, and I didn’t want to.

Then he pushed. His cock forced its way in, stretching me open, filling me with a thickness that made my mouth fall open in a silent scream.

“Ahhhhhh!” he groaned, loud and guttural, his voice echoing off the walls.

“Hnnnnnnghhh—yeshh!” I wailed, my forehead pressing against the edge of the sofa, inches away from disturbing him of his peaceful sleep. My pussy tightened around him, swallowing him deeper.

He started to move. His hips slammed against my ass, hard, ruthless. Wet slaps filled the room, each thrust rocking me forward. I gripped the sofa edge tighter, knuckles white, my arms trembling.

My eyes were locked on my husband’s sleeping face. Every pump of the old man’s cock into my cunt made the shame double, made my chest flutter.

Behind me, his voice growled loudly. “You remember, don’t you? How sweetly you motivated him last time, when he tried opening the door that was stuck? Hmmm?” His hips snapped forward, burying himself deeper inside me. “How about some more words?”

I was in no position to speak, as the only thing that slipped out of my mouth was my broken moans. “I… I c-can’t…” My voice cracked, swallowed by the wet slap of our bodies colliding.

*Smack

His palm crashed against my ass, pushing me forward. “Come on, lady. For the love of your life. Don’t fail him now.”

My eyes blurred with tears. Shame burned hotter, crawling up my throat. I shut my eyes tight, but the image of my husband’s peaceful face was carved into the dark. Words tumbled out, shaky, torn between lust and humiliation.

“Y-you’re strong… you always work so hard… so… so rest now,” I whispered, voice trembling with filthy moans. “Don’t wake up… keep sleeping… please… just sleep, love…”

The old man chuckled darkly, thrusting harder, his cock grinding against my walls with every word I forced out. “Mmmm, that’s it. Good wife. Motivating him to stay asleep while I fuck his precious woman.”

I bit down on my lip, sobbing into the sofa, every humiliating syllable making my cunt clench tighter around him, as if my body itself wanted this filth to never end.

*Knock *Knock

The sound jolted me harder than the thrusts ever could.I instantly scrambled off him, thighs slick, and darted toward the door, nerves rattling. Pressing myself against the wood, I peered through the peephole.

Lina. And her husband.

My breath locked. I stayed perfectly still, praying. Another knock. My pulse thundered. And then—silence. They turned away, walking off. Relief flooded me, shame chasing right behind it.

But before I could even breathe, his hand clamped around mine, dragging me back. No words. No orders. And... my body obeyed. I bent down in front of him without thought, palms flat to the floor, forehead nearly pressed against it. Like a pet.

I pushed it further, sliding one hand back, tugging my ass wide open, cunt gaping for his cock, stretching myself for him. A trembling, crazy smile spread across my lips as I looked back over my shoulder.

He crouched beside me, growl low in his chest, and slammed himself back inside. The fucking started hard, rough, his hips clapping against me. My moans broke out, wild and shameless.

“Y-yeshh… f-fuck—ahhhmmmfnn—yeshh!” I cried, voice bouncing against the hallway walls, too loud, too filthy. My body buckled, my palms smacking flat on the floor again and again as he pounded me.

His hand fisted my hair, yanking me upright. His mouth meeting mine, messy, deep, intimate, stealing every breath. My moans spilled into his throat as his cock drilled me mercilessly, and I came—once, twice—my body jerking, clenching, losing control.

“Ahhh, you dirty bitch…” he groaned, hips grinding, balls slapping wet against me. With a final thrust, he pulled free, stroking fast, spilling thick hot ropes all over my back, my ass, streaking me in filth.

I collapsed flat, twitching, still twitching. The mess smeared across my skin, dripping down. He leaned low, pressed one last kiss against my ass cheek, and stood.

Without a word, he walked off, leaving me sprawled out in the hallway, used, shaking, and smiling like a woman gone mad.