With a Stranger's Cum in Her Mouth (2)
"Anyone in there?"
A long, heavy sigh burst from both my wife and me at the same time.
We had come within a breath of having our raw, shameless state exposed to a complete stranger — and somehow, that still felt like a mercy.
Standing just outside the door was an older cleaning woman with a mop in her hands. She seemed to clean at this hour as a matter of routine, and she was stepping into the men's restroom as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"What is it?"
She looked at the two of us standing there frozen and blank, and asked the question as if she, too, had sensed the strange atmosphere hanging in the air.
"Ah… I… that is…"
I had nothing resembling a decent excuse. Beside me, my wife was frantically yanking down the hem of her dress, which barely covered the tops of her thighs.
"This is the men's room. A woman shouldn't be in here."
The cleaning lady spoke in a thick, gravelly voice, her eyes fixed on my wife.
"Something happen?"
"N-no. Nothing. Let's just go."
I grabbed my wife's hand and bolted out through the restroom door.
"What a pair of weirdos…"
Her muttered comment followed us out, but there was nothing we could do about it.
"H-honey…"
Once we had hurried out of the shopping complex, my wife caught hold of me. Her face was still flushed a deep red, and she looked thoroughly mortified.
"What is it?"
"I feel… disgusting…"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Here…"
Brows furrowed, she looked down at her lower body. From beneath the hem of the dress that barely covered her thighs, a pale white stream was seeping out.
"Still?"
"Yeah… it keeps coming…"
A thick, dense fluid was running down her plump thighs, clinging stickily to her soft, yielding skin.
That bastard…
It seemed a considerable amount of the nerd's cum — shot from that thick cock of his — had gone deep inside my wife's pussy.
Just how much did he unload?
I could still picture him spraying a generous amount across the bathroom tiles as well. He had looked like a scrawny little anchovy, but apparently he had more than size going for him — his stamina seemed formidable too.
Maybe I should have gotten his number…
The thought flickered through my mind, strange and faintly arousing, before I shook my head clear of it. This much deviation with the wife I loved was enough.
"Because of you… look at this."
She was clearly blaming me.
Until only recently she had been the picture of a demure, proper wife. The idea of her having sex outside the bedroom — and with a man who wasn't me — would have been unthinkable.
"Are you okay?"
"Hic… hic…"
Tears began to well in her large eyes. I could sense, however faintly, just how deep the shame she was feeling ran.
Was this my fault…?
"This isn't right…"
"Honey…"
"Don't talk to me."
"Babe…"
"I can't do this. I'm going home alone."
My wife had never once raised her voice at me. No matter what conflict arose, she never shouted, and even irritation was something I rarely saw on her face.
It was that very quality that had made me fall for her and decide to marry her…
Seeing an expression I had never witnessed in my life, I felt my heart go rigid in my chest.
"Honey… don't do this. Let's talk about it together."
"No… I'm going first."
She was resolute. The look on her face as she forced the words out through a voice thick with tears was deadly serious.
I did this for us…
Her reaction left me thoroughly rattled. Only moments earlier she had been getting pounded by a stranger's thick cock, letting out moans I had never heard from her in my life.
I could still see the juices running down between those plump thighs. The sounds she had made, the wetness pouring out of her — none of it matched the woman standing in front of me now.
Is she being a hypocrite?
Has the wife who was lost in her own arousal simply come back to her senses?
Watching her react this way left me just as confused.
Seung-yeon. What do you really feel?
I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and ask. Did she truly regret what had happened today? Then what the hell were those moans she had been screaming earlier?
"Honey!"
I called after her as she disappeared into the subway station, but she never once looked back.
With every step she took, her white dress seemed to ride up, as if the soft undersides of her ass might flash into view.
Is she going to be okay…?
The way her dress fluttered made me deeply uneasy.
No panties. No bra. If anyone realized she was wearing absolutely nothing underneath…
The image of her anxious, trembling eyes rose in my mind, and I found I simply could not let her go.
I'm going after her.
I started following her up the subway stairs.
She was climbing them in long, angry strides, not even bothering to hold her dress down.
"Hah…"
Looking up from below, I couldn't help my eyes going wide. Her long, pale legs, her plump thighs, and the inner curves of her ass were completely exposed.
Above all, the way her full, generous buttocks flexed with every step was entirely visible beneath the dress. Even from a slight angle below, her white flesh was on full display, and my heart began to pound.
Even so, this is too much.
Watching her climb the stairs with her bare white ass completely uncovered was deeply alarming. I was the one who had suggested she go without panties and bra — but that had been when we still had the car.
Of all times for the car to break down, leaving me no choice but to send her off alone. That had never been part of the plan.
My heart started hammering.
I glanced around, terrified someone might see.
Fuck…
There was a man standing behind me.
Even at a glance he looked like trouble — a massive frame stuffed into a tight short-sleeved shirt, tattoos running the length of his arms, a clutch bag in one hand. He looked thoroughly menacing.
One thing was certain: his eyes were locked on my beloved wife's ass.
He was leaning forward, rubbing his bleary eyes as if trying to confirm what he was seeing.
"Hoo…"
Once he verified that nothing at all covered those full, round buttocks, a lewd smile spread across his face.
He didn't even notice me staring at him. His gaze was fixed solely on the space between the folds of her white dress.
No. Seung-yeon.
Every instinct screamed at me to call out to her right then. To tell her to pull her dress down. To come back to my side.
If that woman weren't my wife, I would have been staring a hole through her ass myself…
Unfortunately, the woman baring her entire lower body was my wife.
Seung-yeon. Snap out of it!
"Hahk… ptoo!"
Just as the thought crossed my mind, the tattooed man spat a thick wad of phlegm onto the ground. The filthy gesture, done without the slightest regard for being indoors, said everything about his character.
As he brushed past me, I thought I caught a faint whiff of alcohol on him.
Fuck…
I couldn't find the courage to shout to her. All I could do was stand there, stunned, and watch the man rapidly close the distance behind my wife.
He climbed the stairs until he was right beneath her.
His heavy, striding gait and thick thighs stood out sharply.
A few steps behind her now, he had his eyes planted squarely on her bare white ass.
Thud… thud… thud…
For a split second, it looked as if his hand was reaching under her dress.
W-wait…?
I panicked at the sudden movement — but his hand never touched her buttocks.
What is he doing?
There was a phone in his hand.
Did he take a picture?
I couldn't be sure, but he had clearly done something furtive behind her back.
My beloved wife climbed on, completely unaware. She kept touching the corners of her eyes, wiping away the tears that wouldn't stop coming.
"You all right?"
After staring at her ass for a long while, the man appeared in front of her. The faint smile on his face somehow made him look even more unsettling.
"Oh my…!"
My wife, still crying, jumped at his sudden appearance. Hot breath spilled from her face, which had flushed even redder from the tears.
"Why you cryin', pretty girl? Somethin' wrong?"
He spoke to her in a thick regional drawl.
"Pardon…?"
She managed to wipe her tears and answer him. It was clear she had no idea he had already seen every inch of her lower body.
"Heh heh. Want me to help you out?"
The gold watch on his wrist flashed as he looked at her with the most solicitous tone he could manage. His eyes raked her up and down, and I could almost see him swallowing the sweet saliva gathering in his mouth.
Then he pulled a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to her.
"But… damn. You really are a beauty."
"Ah… th-thank you."
Her voice trembled as she accepted the stranger's kindness and dabbed at her tears with the handkerchief.
"Where you headed?"
"Excuse me?"
"I said, where are you going?"
"Why… why do you ask?"
She answered warily, meeting his gaze. His eyes were fixed on her chest. Without a bra, the soft contours of her full breasts would be completely visible through the fabric.
"A pretty little thing like you cryin' like that — figured I oughta help."
"Ah… I'm fine, really."
"Come over here a second, will ya?"
"What…?"
His rough hand closed around her slender wrist. The hand gripping her was covered in vicious tattoos.
What the fuck is that bastard doing?!
His sudden move startled me as well. And yet, for reasons I couldn't explain, my legs refused to move.
I looked around — but in this quiet suburban station, there wasn't a single station attendant in sight.
That crazy son of a bitch…!
If he threatened her, I was ready to act that very second.
"Oh my…! What are you doing?!"
My tearful wife tried to shake off his arm.
"Just come over that way a minute. Got somethin' to say to you."
"What?!"
"Just a second. Only a second."
"N-no!"
"Hey now!"
The lecherous look he had been giving her hardened. Through the thin fabric of the dress, her full breasts and pink nipples stood out in stark, shameless relief — held fast by the wrist he refused to release.