My Wife's Working Holiday Tales (4)
I lay there limp, gasping for breath. The sticky, fishy sensation inside the blanket was utterly revolting. The aftershocks of that explosive pleasure hadn't faded yet, and my whole body trembled faintly. My heart was still pounding fiercely, but it wasn't just from excitement. It was deep self-loathing and misery.
I didn't want to admit it, but I couldn't deny it anymore. That orgasm I'd just had was more intense than any I'd ever felt in my life. More than our first night together, more than all those countless moments after marriage when we'd clung to each other in blissful happiness.
Watching my wife get treated like an animal by another man, swallowing his cum like holy water—that filthy pleasure was the peak of my existence. A husband who gets turned on by seeing his wife fucked by other men... Could there be anyone more pathetic and worthless in the world?
I couldn't even look at her face. Head bowed, I let out a long sigh from the depths of my lungs. My shoulders slumped under the weight of despair.
Then her soft hand wrapped around my shoulder.
"Honey...? What's wrong...?"
Her voice was cautious. As if sensing my despair, she turned off the smartphone screen and faced me. Her gaze lingered briefly on the faint wet stain spread across the blanket.
"Is it... because of this?"
Her finger pointed lightly at the damp blanket. I couldn't lift my head. All I could do was nod faintly. I felt so dirty and ugly.
"Just... I feel so pathetic..."
My throat choked up; the words wouldn't come out right.
She gazed at me silently for a moment, then pulled me into a gentle embrace. Her warm, fragrant embrace nearly brought tears to my eyes.
"No, honey. It's okay. Really, it's fine."
I buried my face in her bosom and just sobbed quietly. She waited until I calmed a bit, then spoke carefully.
"You know, honey, there are more people with this kind of tendency than you think. They call it... netorare."
"...N-Netorare...?"
I vaguely knew what it meant, but me? That? I lifted my head and looked at her. She met my eyes steadily and explained calmly.
"It's when you feel jealousy and excitement at the same time seeing the person you love being loved by someone else... or dominated physically like this. It might seem perverted, but... in a way, it could be a very natural phenomenon."
"A natural... phenomenon...?"
I echoed in disbelief. How could this be natural?
"Yes. Think about it, honey. You love me, right?"
"......Of course."
"Then, doesn't it make you a little proud that I seem attractive to other people too? It's proof of my value. But when that person desires me, even takes me... you feel jealousy and anger toward him, but at the same time, a sense of superiority for possessing me—or the humiliation of having me stolen—turns into pleasure. It's love and possessiveness twisted into an extreme form."
Her sophistry was strangely convincing. It pierced the chaos in my mind and neatly labeled it netorare. She took it a step further.
"Maybe... for people like you, honey, with a bit of a... masochistic side, it's even more common."
She nailed my masochistic tendencies perfectly.
"Seeing the person you love dominated by someone stronger and more overwhelming... you project yourself onto that. The desire to be treated like that yourself, mixed with the humiliation of your precious one being taken. Those two emotions combine to create an immense pleasure you've never felt before. It's not just a perverted desire—it's part of how you love, part of your sexual taste."
I was speechless. Her words pierced the deepest, darkest corner of my heart where I'd hidden my desires. I wanted to deny it, but I couldn't.
I'd felt an inexplicable excitement and dopamine rush watching her writhe in another man's arms—wanting to save her, yet thrilled by the situation itself.
"So... don't blame yourself too much, honey."
She cupped my cheek softly and kissed me. A tender, warm kiss.
"This could be proof of how much you love me. Loving me so deeply that you even want to love seeing me ruined by someone else... Isn't that it?"
As her lips parted, I stared at her blankly. There was no blame or contempt in her eyes—just warm understanding and deep affection for me.
That gaze melted my defenses bit by bit. Maybe she was right. Maybe I wasn't a pervert; maybe my way of loving was just a little different.
Sensing my wavering, she kissed me briefly again, then slowly started moving the hand that had been holding my wet cock. Though it had gone limp after cumming, it began to respond faintly to her soft touch.
"See? Your body doesn't lie."
She whispered softly. Her touch was gentle, but the implication was heavy.
"Hearing about me with other men, watching those videos... your body reacted like this. No need to deny it forcefully. Just... accept it. How about thinking of it as our new secret game?"
"...A game...?"
"Yeah. A secret play just between us that no one else knows. I tell you everything about what I did with other guys outside—every detail, nothing left out. You listen and get all worked up like now. You comfort the me marked by another man. You show with your body that you're my real man, and that I'm ultimately yours. Doesn't just imagining it turn you on?"
Her words were terrifyingly sweet. I knew it was sophistry, but I was falling into her logic. Those words swirled in my head, stirring humiliation and a strange possessiveness.
She was mine alone, yet her body was defiled by other men. And I would ultimately claim that sullied body. How twisted and contradictory.
"Th-That... really... okay...?"
I asked in a trembling voice—my last gasp before losing reason.
She looked at me fondly, like I was cute, and pecked the bridge of my nose.
"Of course. It's fine. This is just... our unique way of loving that others might not understand. It's a way for us to connect more deeply and intimately than ordinary couples. When I'm in another man's arms feeling it, I'll always think of you. 'Ah~ Honey would love seeing this.' And coming home to tell you, seeing you get excited... that would be my greatest joy."
She knew my heart too well—what I wanted, what words weakened me most. She dragged out my deepest desires and wrapped them in the name of love.
I had no response to my big sis's words. My mind was a jumble. Her sweet poison was slowly numbing my reason.
Wrapped in the name of love, I didn't know how to answer that horrific proposal. Head bowed, mumbling, she stroked my hair gently.
"Of course... if you don't want it, honey, I absolutely won't do it."
Her voice was endlessly tender, as if giving me all the choice.
"I'll tell Miles never to contact me again, delete all these videos. And today's thing... we'll pretend it never happened. If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll do anything. Really."
For a brief moment, hope flickered. Yeah, if I say no now... maybe we can go back to normal. This nightmare night could be dismissed as just that.
As I mustered courage to speak, she continued.
"But..."
She stared straight into my eyes. Even in the dark, they sparkled, piercing me.
"Your face right now... it's so red. Like you want to."
I flinched and pulled away from her hand. No mirror needed; my face burned like fire.
Her words, her touch, the video flashing back—blood rushed to my face.
She chuckled softly at my reaction.
"Your body is this honest... denying it with your mind just makes it harder on you."
She drew close again, embracing me softly. Her voice whispered intimately in my ear.
"I'm not saying do anything right now. Just... know this exists. That you have this desire inside... How about we acknowledge it together and start from there? Think of it as a process of getting to know each other more deeply."
"...Getting to know... each other more deeply...?"
"Yes. Even just roleplay in imagination is fine. Like... I got called by the boss at work today and got scolded really bad, but actually it wasn't scolding... in the empty office... you know. Just tell you that fantasy. You get excited listening. Stop right there. How's that? Isn't that okay?"
Office. Boss. Fake-scolding sex. Those few words made my lower belly tingle again.
She sensed it like a ghost and hugged me tighter.
"I just... want to love you more deeply, honey. I want to know everything about you, accept everything. Even the dark parts you hide—I want to embrace them all. No other intentions, really."
Her voice rang true. Her care, her love felt desperate. Thinking this was her effort to love me deeper melted my last resistance like snow.
I leaned fully into her embrace, exhaling shakily. Finally, I nodded faintly.
"O-Okay... sis."
Feeling her satisfied smile as "sis" slipped out, she held me and stroked my head for a long time.