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This second fucking was much slower, much more evenly paced, would last much longer and, if she ran to form, would take my wife to a much more intense climax.I hoped and expected to hear those wild, ecstatic, orgasmic cries soon.Though I could not understand what had come over her, at that moment I could do nothing but lie there, listen to the sounds of her infidelity, and feel the agonising, sickening blend of jealousy, anger, arousal, pride, adoration, impotence and misery that the cuckold knows so well.Finally, a short, muted, high-pitched squeal came through the door, then was choked off by the intensity of a climax as intense as I any had heard before.A long, deep silence followed, a silence in which all I could hear was my own anxious breathing.I pictured Marcus’ body held still above hers. I pictured his cock, long and thick, pulsating in her vagina as he filled her with his semen; I pictured their eyes locked together as his seed flowed through her orgasmically-dilated cervix. Was it some token of forgiveness on the part of my wife? I could tell that this was a private moment between people who had just been intimate, so I averted my eyes, looking down at the floor, catching the action out of the corner of my eye as the African rubbed down my wife with the towel. Her breasts, back, buttocks, pussy, legs, and feet all received a through rub.Finished, he threw the towel aside, pulled up his trousers and swaggered to gaze out the window. Upon which Anne reached down and collected her panties from the floor. Quickly, she slid them up her legs to cover her violated sex. The thin material being the only thing that would catch the fluid that would leak out. Then, she retrieved her bra from the chair. At last she covered herself with her skirt, blouse and jacket, but just stood awaiting instructions. She did not look once in my direction.African tormentor turned on cue and beckoned for her to again join him at the window. They seemed to speak for a couple of.
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