“I’ll help you look,” she said as she pulled me after her.
I followed and scanned the rooms as we passed them. We scoured the first floor and finally nodded at the stairs to the second floor offices. Katy made sure to go up before me on the stairs, and I knew exactly what she was doing by it. She was giving me a good view of her white panties. I was a little delirious with drink and panties when she backed up from a doorway and pushed on my chest.
“Mmm, maybe we should just go home.” She glanced around.
It took me a second, but I heard voices from the room and one was Debbie’s. I pushed around Katy and into the office. Katy tried to stop me by hauling on my arm, but I wasn’t slowed, I just pulled her frail frame along with me. Debbie was in there. She, or someone, had removed her little mini-dress. All she had on were her garters and stockings. She was laid back on the desk as elephant guy worked his uncovered erection in and out of her vagina. Four other guys stood around her, one with his cock in her mouth.
I was blown away at the sight. Debbie had never done anything like this. Was it the booze? Was she really that pissed at me? Was she drunk and not aware of getting fucked? Or maybe she had been doing this all along, mixing with the romance of the office place like she said everyone else did? Was this an every day occurrence? Was this why she didn’t wear panties to work under her dresses? How many cocks would she take before coming home every day?
As if to answer the question, elephant guy strained against my wife’s hips and shot his load into her. He pulled out to show that he wasn’t even wearing a condom. Debbie made no move except to open her legs wider as the next guy moved up and slid his cock into her. He pumped her forcefully, comfortably, like he had done it before. No condom on him, either. The desk shook slowly as he fucked her. Debbie put out for me twice a week. Here she was taking everyone who was waiting without complaint and we were barely married a year. I felt cheap, cheated, and disgusted.
Bitch.
Katy finally succeeded in pulling me away and out the door. “I’m so sorry.”
I just blinked.
Katy wrapped me in a hug. After the typical “timer” on “friendly” hugs had elapsed, I grew aware of the close press of her barely covered body. I could still hear the desk rhythmically scraping along the floor behind me. The sound of the fucking – the grunts, the moans, the scraping of the desk, and my wife’s muffled cries of pleasure – stirred me into passion.
I should have been in there. My penis hardened rapidly. She should have been asking me for more sex if she needed it. She should have been getting her pleasure from me rather than from some dude with whom she worked. My erection ached. It was pressed into Katy’s crotch and I realized I was making movements against her that spoke of my lust.
Why was I turned on by the situation in the room behind me? Was it because my wife liked it? Whatever it takes to make her happy? Or was it more that she still loved me and stayed married to me while making sure she took care of her needs with quiet affairs? Did I somehow admire her for being so independent and yet still coming home every night? Why was I burning with lust? I hadn’t gotten hard until I was out of the room, so it wasn’t the sight of her getting fucked. It wasn’t just some visual stimulation. No, it was much different than that. Was it some form of worship where I had a low self-esteem and viewed her as a better person? Or was I the better person but secretly admired her trashy, fuck-everyone values? Was I totally off the mark? Too deep in my thinking? Or too shallow?