As some of you may remember, I recently found my loving wife in bed with another man. I came home early, expecting to find her alone; and instead, I found her legs spread with a giant cock pummeling her cunt like a machine.

Since then, I’ve barely gone home at all. It’s been over a week, and I’ve worked late every night. I get home well after she’s gone to sleep and leave for work well before she wakes. She’s tried talking to me several times, happily approaching me with her words while staring at me with her bad-news eyes.

Nine days after I caught her with her lover, I decided it was best left alone even though we both knew I caught them.

Ten days after the heart-breaking discovery, I got home around twelve at night. I walked through the side door leading from the garage and found my wife sitting at the kitchen table facing the door. She looked distraught, eyes red from crying. When she saw me, she jumped up and hugged me.

I had already decided to not necessarily forgive but forget about the whole thing. It didn’t really matter what she was about to tell me, but I figured it would go over easier if I listened.

She sat me down and told me her side of the whole story. In her account, she never wanted to cheat on me. Our neighbor, the big-dick guy I caught her fucking, forced her to cuckold me. He’s always wanted to fuck her, and he used our credit card bill to blackmail her. (My wife used to, or rather currently, has a gambling addiction. The bill proved that she’d fallen off the bandwagon again, and she didn’t want me to know.)

All while telling her side, I sat blank-faced, simply waiting for her to stop talking so I could get some sleep. I did find it interesting that she said he found the bill over three months ago, which caused an intrigued expression to come across my face. She thought I was about to ask her a question, so she confessed to fucking the neighbor almost five times a week since he started blackmailing her. (That explains how she’s able to take his big dick so easily.)

Absent-mindedly listening to her story, I knew I should feel sympathy or empathy for my wife, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything. As she talked and cried, her voice just reminded me of the way she moaned and screamed on that man’s cock. It made me sick.

Finally, she finished talking and I told her it was okay. For the most part, it was, but I could never see my wife as a sexual being again. The image of that bigger cock destroying my wife’s once lovely, little pussy filled me with hate, grief, self-pity, and every other negative emotion.

As I stood up to leave, she stood up with me and tried to kiss me. Instinctively, I leaned away and headed to the bedroom, leaving her there alone to cry some more.

Lying in bed, I remembered my depressive tendencies. I realized that if I didn’t try to fight for my wife at that moment, my depression would consume me again. Last time I was depressed, it cost us thousands in medical and therapy bills, and my wife developed her gambling addiction.

My wife was still sitting in the kitchen, her head laying on the table and tearing running down her face. As she looked up at me, I leaned down and kissed her. She immediately returned my kiss and jumped up from the chair. She wanted badly to say something, but I kept my lips against her and slid my tongue into her mouth to keep her from reminding me of the darkness.

I sat her on the kitchen table and pushed my pajama bottoms down, revealing my average-sized cock. We broke our kiss long enough to remove our tops and her bra. Her glorious perky tits jiggled in front of me as she wiggled out of her bottoms.

Before she could say a word, I spit on my cock, lubing it up, and thrust into her semi-wet love tunnel. The bigger cock stretched her wide and deep, but our lovemaking was about more than physical pleasure. With our happy-ever-after livelihood on the line, her pussy responded to my intrusion quickly.

Within minutes, her pussy was dripping wet and gripping my hard cock. She moaned and cried out for me to fuck her harder as she opened her legs wider and put the heel of feet on my ass. I held her waist and laid her back on the table and fucked her as hard and fast as I could.

My mind cleared of darker thoughts as I watched my beautiful wife’s tits bouncing and rocking on her chest. She bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes as her back arched and her legs began to tremble. Her hips bucked and twirled on the table as lightning bolts of orgasmic electricity arced through her body and to all her extremities.

As she screamed louder than I’d ever heard her, her intimate muscles squeezed my engorged erection, forcing me over the edge. I collapsed on top of her as my spasming shaft shot rope after rope of pent up cum into her convulsing canyon.