The first time he saw his wife’s photo was in the group.
It wasn’t some carefully posed glamorous shot, but a few casual, slightly lazy private photos. Her sleepy face, the side profile just wrapped in a bath towel after a shower, the glimpse of her collarbone and the curve of her chest while looking down at her phone… and one of her lying on the bed in just an oversized T-shirt, knees slightly parted.
The group exploded instantly.
Someone typed directly: “Fuck, I’m hard just from looking.”
Someone was even more blunt: “That one lying down… I’m already jerking off to it.”
Others started fantasizing: “If I could ride her right now, take her from behind, and make her open her mouth…”
As he read the replies, he couldn’t help but get hard himself. His wife’s body was being slowly taken apart, imagined, and played with through text by others. That mix of shame and excitement shot down his spine like electricity. He replied: “Keep going. She likes hearing it.”
The replies grew even more explicit.
Someone said they would pin her in front of a mirror and take her from behind so she could watch her own expression while being fucked; someone said they would have her kneel, licking while using their hand on her; and someone directly used that word—
“Spit-roast her.”
His breathing grew heavier as he read.
That night, he read those messages to his wife. At first she just blushed and laughed, but gradually she grew quieter, her breathing unsteady. When he read the part about “two men using her at the same time,” she lightly bit her lower lip, her eyes already glistening.
“Do you… really want that?” he asked.
She didn’t answer directly, only spread her legs a little and whispered: “Keep… reading.”
A few days later, it actually happened.
Two men came to their house. One was the most active in the group, the one with the crudest talk; the other was relatively quiet but kept staring at her. His wife wore a loose white shirt with nothing underneath. When she sat down, the fabric clung to her chest, her nipples faintly visible.
The atmosphere started off polite, but desire quickly tore it apart.
Someone reached out and touched her thigh; she didn’t pull away. The other leaned in to kiss her, his hand sliding straight under her shirt to squeeze her breasts. She let out a soft moan, leaning back against the sofa. He sat beside them watching, already painfully hard.
Soon she was pulled onto the carpet, on all fours.
One man moved behind her, one hand pressing her waist while the other spread her cheeks, the head of his cock pressing against her wet entrance before slowly pushing in. She let out a muffled grunt, fingers clutching the carpet. The man in front knelt before her, bringing his fully erect cock to her lips.
“Open.”
She obediently opened her mouth and was completely filled.
This was what they called spit roast.
The man behind started thrusting rhythmically, each stroke going deep, producing wet slapping sounds. The man in front grabbed her hair, controlling the depth of her movements, occasionally pulling out to let her catch her breath before pushing back in. Her mouth was stuffed full, only able to make muffled whimpers as saliva dripped from the corners of her lips onto the carpet.
He sat to the side, stroking himself, watching his wife being used by two men at once. Her back arched slightly, her ass quivering with each thrust from behind, her breasts swaying with the motion. Occasionally she glanced sideways at him, her eyes watery and dazed from being filled, yet showing no resistance.
The man behind suddenly sped up, pounding harder, each thrust driving her forward so she took the cock in front even deeper. Her voice turned into broken whimpers, her body visibly trembling—she was close.
“So tight…” the man behind muttered, slapping her ass hard.
The man in front also quickened, finally thrusting deep into her throat as he came. Her throat moved as she swallowed most of it, the rest spilling from her lips. Almost simultaneously, the man behind growled and came inside her, hot liquid pulsing in.
She collapsed, knees weak, still gently trembling.
After the two men pulled out, he walked over, lifted her still faintly twitching body, and kissed her wet lips, tasting another man’s flavor.
“Want to do it again?” he whispered in her ear.
She didn’t speak, only buried her face in his shoulder and nodded lightly.
Later they did it again, this time with her lying down, one man entering from the front while the other had her turn her head to keep sucking. He watched from the side, occasionally reaching out to pinch her nipples or slipping his fingers into her mouth so she was taking two at once.
When it was over, the room was filled with the smell of sweat and semen. His wife lay on his lap, eyes half-closed, a trace of white still at the corner of her mouth, her body covered in marks of use.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead, whispering: “Next time… should we call a few more?”
She gave a soft laugh, her voice a little hoarse: “…Whatever you want.”