3 Days of Watching my Wife Fuck

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Feeling like a bionic jackass by now, I walked over and pulled her to me apologizing to the maximum. We hugged and held each other for at least five minutes. I began telling her how much I loved her and continued apologizing for pushing the situation and the fact that I purposely kept it going with no regard for her feelings whatsoever.

The reality of what she was saying was crystal clear. I’m sure it would have been different if we hadn’t kept it going. Several times I did notice them overtly caressing one another as they made love, passionately kissing, caressing, and holding onto one other. When this all started, they simply fucked and when it was over, it was over. But in hindsight, if I had snapped into reality for a second, I would have noticed that it truly did develop into more than sexual intercourse between her and Stan.

As she explained her position, it was like a light bulb went off in my mind. I think it was more of a situation where I basically ignored it, choosing to keep the experience going rather than face facts. But the writing was clearly on the wall, and she was right.

Gina then said she was going to take a much needed shower and off she went. Not more than a few minutes after emerging from the shower, she began packing our things and, within thirty minutes, we were in our car driving home. She was utterly exhausted as she curled up in the passenger seat and fell fast asleep. She slept for six hours straight barely moving at all. I too was flat smoked and barely able to keep my eyes open as I drove, but I continued, thinking that if I just got us back home, we would somehow be back to normal.

It took many hours getting back home, but after consuming what I’m sure equaled three gallons of coffee, we made it.

I thought it might be weeks before she and I made love again after how many times she had intimate intercourse with me and the young men we had met, but a few hours after arriving at our home, we both rubbed up against one another as we passed in the hallway, and instantly began violently grabbing and tearing at one another taking our clothes off. We just dropped right in the hallway and had the wildest animalistic sex we had ever had in our home.

I’m sure some have skydived, bungee jumped, driven a Lamborghini 200 mph, or even flown on the space shuttle, but they never experienced what Gina and I did during last year’s vacation.

I can’t tell you how many times we’ve discussed that vacation since. Funny thing is though; we’ve never got more than a few minutes into the conversation before we both wildly begin sexually attacking one another.

We discussed trying it again next vacation, but every time we get worked up we find ourselves fucking. Somehow we always come to our senses telling ourselves, “It was a one time experiment. It was a one in a trillion series of events that fell into place. Our marriage is still intact, and we’d like to keep it that way. Why on earth would we risk anything else?”

Yes, we always talk the good talk, but who am I kidding? The power of that experience will never leave our minds, and inevitably the tumblers will someday fall into place again… and I’m certain neither of us will be strong enough to fight it.

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