How many males have eaten your wife?

Final part of the story "How many males have eaten your wife? - 1"
I awoke to find my wife still asleep beside me, and thought for a moment of the revelations she had made about myself that gave me so much desire.
I kept looking at her, and it made me horny again to see the breasts slightly more tanned than their bikini briefs. I imagined that she was talking with a dark-skinned, thin, muscular, hairy male wearing only his bikinis but no bra. She told me about this guy putting sunscreen on his body and risking his fingers several millimetres...NO! ...inches inside of his underwear.
She moved and spread her legs, leaving them in the position of a <unk>4<unk>. Her little mouth was exposed and I noticed that some of my pork slipped from it. Since we were breaking taboos, I decided to break one more by realizing an old fantasy which I had always repressed:
She woke up with a little moan.
I went to kiss her on the mouth with my lips full of pussy and fuck, feeling our tastes mixed together that little kiss seemed too exciting for her.
- You're tasting like joint and fuck mixed together.
- Is that bad?
- No, you didn't.
- Will you tell me the rest?
- You really want to hear it?
- It's too much!
- Where was I?
Don't be silly, he stuck his fingers in your underwear.
- She hastened to complete it with a smile.
- I fixed it.
- She said it with a silly face.
- Did it come in your cup?
- No. I was shaking and thought it's time to end this joke, said that it is time for me to go up because my husband would be arriving so I got up a little scared, quickly put on the bra and went out of the bathroom, started walking towards the elevators he stood up and ran after me slightly to say that it was also time to come up we entered the elevator and took advantage of our being alone to embrace me from behind i felt his hairy chest rubbing against my back i noticed the volume growing in its swing and lost control I let him kiss me and my resistances went totally to space.
"Did you let him kiss you?" I asked a little surprised. How far would they have gone?
- She had a little shudder in her response as she picked up my pinto to point it at your bouquet.
I asked as he penetrated her.
- He's got a huge tongue... wet and daring. It gets into people's mouths like a pint fighting with my tongue. His kiss is the kiss of an asshole! - She said in a warm, hoarse voice... Who was giving her more excitement:
- I insisted on hearing it.
- This is delicious!
I said, groaning with the desire to hear her tell it.
- Are you insulting me, or praising me?
And I was being sincere.
- You want to know more?
- I want to know everything!
- Are you sure about that?
That question was more to prepare me for what lay ahead than ascertain my willingness to receive confession.
Absolutely, I think I know where this is going to end up.
- The elevator stopped on our floor and I tried to go down, but he grabbed me by the waist, pulling me back against his body. I felt his strong hands and his hair again on my back. I tried to put it in my swing, and then I realized that I couldn't resist the urge any longer... so we kissed again... and I let the elevator door close on us all the way upstairs into his suite.
I asked, making a superhuman effort not to mock.
You want to hear it or not, I'll tell you the details.
I kept quiet and continued to hold my erection so as not to finish the climb ahead of time.
- He led me by the hand as soon as the elevator door opened again, and in a few seconds we were at his apartment's front door. He unlocked it using the magnetic card that I don't know where he got from and was immediately pushing me into bed, where I let myself fall down. Quickly like lightning he pulled my panties off of my bikini and I threw away my own bra while he ripped out his suspenders and tossed them away.
- Bigger than mine?
She looked at me with a meaningful smile, avoiding answering in words. His cock was thicker than mine and I learned long ago that women don't care much about the length of their penis but rather its thickness...
She went on to say:
- He pulled my legs up, arched my body and fell on his mouth in my little kiss... as he sucked me off he crushed and pinched my breasts the whole room seemed to smell of sex and that scent made me totally crazy with absolutely no shame I spoke to him like I've never spoken to you.
- Did you really talk like that? Fuck! You don't ever speak this way! - I could hardly stand such a boner. It would explode at any moment and I felt in my wife's voice that she was also very excited; she spoke trembling and between moans, but she liked to tell it. She was hot when telling me that I had horned myself. She got loose and talked dirty; used profanity not accustomed to speaking.
- But I spoke, there. I was out of control and wanted everything he could offer me. He turned my belly upwards and already had a condom in his hand. I don't know where it came from or how he opened it; I know that it was there and he put it on his penis with incredible speed. It must have been much practice motherfucker. Must climb all the time. Lying over me and went penetrating nice ... thick... His hands kept crushing my breasts and I threw my body up, hugging him with my legs. It was as if I were afraid that he would leave and stop offering me all this pleasure, so I felt like joking around with him and asked him to join in on the fun. We sped up our movements and made a lot of laughs together while he called me "cute little whore"
I was already mocking again and she began to tremble, groan and raised her voice to say:
Are you mad at me?
No, I'm dying of a hard-on and loving you like this.
I've been a whore before, and every once in a while...
"You mean you have much more to tell me?" I asked, surprised at the revelation.
- If you swear to always have a hard-on while I'm counting...
I didn't know what to say.
This was just the beginning of revelations, and I never... would have imagined that my wife who's always so serious and well-behaved could do what I found out she did.
Our lives are so much better, sex has become an incredibly good thing, we're closer and more complicit.
After opening up to me, she ended by telling about several of her friends who also don't have any saints. I came to realize that the most beautiful and well-cared for women in our various friendships are those who make themselves ready even though they seem extremely serious. When I commented on this with her my answer was: <unk>Understand this: a married woman becomes relaxed and no longer interesting for sex, not even with her husband; or takes care of herself and grows more attractive but never just for her husband. Either the woman has a whore inside of her, or she stops being a wife to be "a maid" in the house and family; and these are betrayed. A good-looking woman keeps her husband enamored, and an enamoured man is much more faithful than a woman. What kind of wife do you prefer?
I'd rather be married and in love with her.
Now I ask you, how many males have eaten your wife?
I 'll take it .