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My guardian angel with special shoes!” I waited until she had finished, and when we had gave our goodbyes, I turned my back to her. I couldn’t bear for her to see the tears coursing down my face. I shakily inhaled, and tried to pace myself, torturing myself with the possibilities that I had shamed myself. Did my hand linger on her back a second too long? Were they properly situated, and not too low, or high? I had taken a dreadful risk smelling her hair, would she feel my breath on her follicles? Realising the futility of the exercise, I mentally recited a Haiku to steady my nerves, an eccentric quirk of mines designed to fend off anxiety and panic attacks by channeling my energies elsewhere. Turning the collar of my trench coat upwards, and prissily fussing with my tie, I went home, to lick my psychic wounds relishing the rain and the beauty that Kelvingrove Park had to offer. Sometime later, after a shower and nap, I returned to my bedsit to find a rather ominous sounding text. She choked, gagged, and slurped; smacking her lips with satisfaction when he withdrew from her mouth. She was getting her fill now. A third person walked in, or a fourth, I couldn't tell. I was so overwhelmed by what was happening I was on the verge of cumming in my pants or calling the whole thing off. I sat patiently, listening to my wife getting fucked. I could hear guys enjoying her tight, pink, hole - I listened as their cocks filled her, making wet, squishy sounds punctuated by my wife gasping for breath. One guy began to hesitate, managing to stutter, "I'm... going to cum..." "Cum in my mouth, baby!" my wife called, and only a moment later I heard the familiar sound of her swallowing, knowing that her throat was filled to capacity with a stranger's cum. I listened as she pulled off just enough to catch her breath... then heard her swallowing again. These guys were abusing her, degrading my slut wife, using her as nothing more than a cum dumpster, taking advantage of her body.
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