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Sandra and I had been married for eight years, we were devoted to one another, I loved her and no one else, I had no doubt, that the feeling was mutual. We had friends, of course, and enjoyed the company of others but other than that we were a private couple.
I was 25 when we were married and Sandra 23.
I occasionally went for a few beers with my workmates and Sandra would, from time to time, go out with a few friends from work.
The rules were strict; Sandra had made that absolutely clear. There was to be no "hanky panky".
"If I ever find out that you have so much as looked at another woman, you're history." She would say.
She did not need to say it. She was the only woman I was interested in; I loved Sandra deeply and would never risk hurting her or destroying our marriage for anything, let alone a bit of skirt.
On our respective nights out, we would always make sure that we were home by midnight, at the latest. Sandra was never later than 11 o'clock.
On one particular night out, the two friends, I was with, picked up two women. My friends were both married and this had not happened before. I decided that it had nothing to do with me and continued to have a conversation with two other men who had joined us earlier, but I had never met them before. There names were John and Terry.
As the evening wore on John told us how he work for a firm in the town and how they had closed circuit television cameras. He said that he had some fantastic video footage of couples who would go around the back of the building on an evening for a shag never knowing that they were on camera.
We were laughing at some of the stories he was telling us when he said he had a key to the place.
"No one will be in until morning; the cleaners are always gone by Six o'clock, if we go now I can show you some fantastic stuff." He said.
I wasn't sure, but since it was only quarter to ten I had plenty of time left and my mates were now otherwise engaged. I could see no harm in it.
John knew how to get into the building without us being seen on the cameras and soon we were inside. We went upstairs into a room where there were monitors and a shelf with videos stacked on it.
Picking one from the shelf he said, "Let's have a look, ah yeh, this is from last Thursday night, my workmate has marked it with three stars. This should be a corker. Let's see if it's a good one, Thursday night is usually brilliant."
Terry and I sat on a long table swinging our legs while John inserted the video and started the video recorder from the appropriate place where the "action" started, and then he joined us, sitting on the table.
At first, we were just looking at the back of the building and there was no one in sight. The area was very well secluded and was a perfect place to take a woman even if it was well illuminated.
Then two people appeared, on camera the images were very clear and sharp.
John recognised the man "God, its Simon again, he is one lucky bastard, who has he pulled this time?
Simon was tall, around 6ft 2inches, blonde, and what most women would call, "drop dead gorgeous", the woman was about 5ft 6inches tall but she was at the other side of the man and difficult to see at first. They had their arms around each other's waists and she appeared to have her head tucked close to his chest.
They sat on a wall that was about 2ft 6 inches high but had a wide top with slabs on it. The slabs were about 3 feet long and two feet six inches wide. They were now facing directly towards the camera.
I felt my legs go weak and my stomach churn as I realised the woman I was looking at, sat with this blonde hunk, was my wife Sandra.
Simon took Sandra in his arms and started kissing her quite heavily, she was responding in kind.
John and Terry were now laughing aloud and shouting "Go on stick her one, she's begging for it".
Terry shouted "Give her one for me, you lucky bastard".
John bellowed, "Get between her legs for fucks' sake, stop messing about".
But this guy was in no hurry, he was calm and in total control of himself.
I said nothing. I was so ashamed, so embarrassed. God I didn't want them to know it was my wife that the man was working up into lather before my very eyes. I was shaking from head to foot, all the time hoping that she was going to push him away and leave hurriedly, but that wasn't happening.
The kissing was now extremely intense and I could see him moving his hand inside Sandra's blouse. She quickly grabbed his hand and moved it away from her bust. I thought she isn't going all the way, surely not, but the kissing continued and become more feverish.
Simon tried again ever so slowly to get his hand inside her blouse and again, moving ever so slowly. Again, she placed a restraining hand on his, but he pressed ahead and she allowed him to get inside her blouse and he began to fondle one of her breasts.
I swallowed deeply and audibly, but John and Terry didn't notice my distress they were both playing with their pricks and John was saying, "He's got her now, she's going, she's goiiiing".
Terry said come on sweetheart let's see you poppy for him.
I could see that Sandra's blouse was wide open and her white bra was clearly visible. This hunk had one of her tits in his hand and she was urging him on clearly in a trance of unbridled delight.
I wanted to run away, get out of this room, but how could I without giving away the things I wanted to hang onto – my pride and my dignity.
The blonde bastard was now pressing home is well-rehearsed advantage. He was experienced at this anyone could see that. Sandra was one of many women he'd had, that seemed self evident. He knew his way around a woman's body and his timing was perfection.
He gradually and tentatively moved his hand from Sandra's tits to her waist. It was obvious where he was heading, Sandra must have known by now that he wasn't satisfied with a kiss and a hand full of tit. Why didn't she stop now?
As his hand moved onto her thigh, she again stopped him bringing his hand back to her waist.
"She isn't going to poppy, the prick teasing bastard," John moaned.
The hunk redoubled his efforts moving his hand back to her breasts. She seemed to relax at this and he again kissed her with intensified passion. He wasn't giving up however long it took. He wanted a fuck and he was going to get one.
I thought Sandra might be happy for him to feel her tits but is going to defend he cunt or was it wishful thinking on my part.
"For God's sake Sandra, STOP." I screaming inside, Please, please STOP." Whatever I was saying inwardly my two companions were saying the opposite outwardly.
"Come on sweetheart; let's see yer go for him." Terry was saying.
John overlapping Terry's frustration, "If he doesn't fuck her soon, my spunk is going to be everywhere. For Christ sake get her legs open, stick it into her".
Sandra was becoming absolute putty in the hands of this very handsome brute of a man and, has he began to move his hand down once again, ever so slowly and tentatively, over her stomach her legs just opened impulsively as if with an involuntary movement.
He was now slowly massaging her crotch through her loose dress, both of them kissing more urgently, Sandra with her head cranked backwards to him tall and towering over her.
He began to slide her dress up her thighs, not far at first, as if trying to do it without her realising how far he had got.
Ever so subtly, he was revealing her thighs bit by bit and soon we could all see my wife's brilliant white knickers.
From the outside of her knickers, he began to massage her pubic bone while he continued passionately kissing her. Sandra was his, he showed no sense of urgency, and he wasn't rushing to his goal.
He gradually moved his hand up to the knicker elastic. Again, momentarily, Sandra appeared to move as if to resist. He withdrew slightly, before moving again, like an angler playing with the fish on the end of his line, slipping his hand gently inside the top of her panties his fingers stretching, reaching over her pubic hair. Sandra arched her body towards him in a clear gesture of total surrender.
I was sat there utterly crest fallen, I felt that I was no longer a man, not the man I thought I was anyway.
This blonde attractive, athletic looking guy was about to destroy my world and he couldn't have cared less. He must have known he was trying to shag a married woman, that she had a husband somewhere. He could have had just about any single woman in town but he was well on his way to taking my wife.
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"He's got his hand on her twat." Terry said rubbing his hand vigorously on his cock, which was out of his trousers and stood up erect. "Go on, give her a good finger fucking, yer blonde bastard".
"God he must me exploring her crack, look at her thighs." John drooled.
I was hurting so much now that I was just about to race out of the building and beat this bastard to a pulp but it was a video of something that had happened last Thursday. Whatever happened next, I could not do anything to stop it.
I could now see Sandra's thighs wide open and his hand was down inside the gusset of her knickers and there was no doubt about what he was doing. He must have had his fingers inside her pussy. His hand was jerking back and forward and Sandra's knickers were moulded around his fist so that his dexterity was clear to see and her pelvis had started to fuck his fingers.
Sandra was now ready, more than ready, of that there was no doubt.
Here timid attempt to defend her twat had been breached.
This hunky bastard gradually rolled her onto the wall and with her dress up to her waist he removed her knickers effortlessly. He contemptuously threw them to one side and onto the floor. He placed Sandra's legs either side of the wall and started to adopt what Sandra and I often referred to as "Fuck position one".
"Yes, at last, go on drive it into the bitch." John shouted.
Terry was wanking himself openly and saying. "Lucky bastard, lucky bastard, he's going to pop it to her, she's gone altogether, she's no chance now, she couldn't stop him if she tried".
"You're right mate, he triumphs again." John responded.
I just wanted to thump the pair of them. This was my wife and it was as if they were all shagging her. I was sick to the pit of my stomach but could do nothing. I was a prisoner forced to witness my own wife's adulterous betrayal.
As I watched events were unfolding fast. This bastard straddled the wall, dropped his trousers took out his prick and stood over Sandra for a moment, still not rushing, he could take her anytime he wanted and he knew it. He was savouring the moment.
Has he stood with one leg either side of the wall and Sandra's legs either side of him he looked down at the black mot of hair surrounding her pussy.
Slowly he lifted her and pulled her towards him and taking what looked like a handsome length of cock in one hand, he parted the lips of her protruding petals with the other.
He placed the bell end of his cock into the crack he had opened and then forcefully jacked it into her, grabbing her legs again he pulled her fully onto it.
He pulled her backwards and forwards along the length of his cock while at the same time thrusting his hips.
Sandra's head was half hanging over the wall, her hair draped downwards. I could make out the delirious look on her face as the fucking began.
My two companions were now in rhythms of delight and were variously saying the most awful things in-between their own groans and heavy breathing.
"Get the bitch spunked yer blonde bastard, don't let up now".
"Come on send the bitch home with one up her, she's probably married, pop it to her."
"God, look at their arses they are both going like fiddler's' elbows."
"Look at her, she's gone man, she's just aching for some sludge, get some pumped up it. I told you she would poppy".
My mind was so numb it didn't register who had said what.
I was trembling from head to foot with first, suppressed nausea and the then contained rage. I just wanted the whole thing over and done with so I could get away and confront the woman who had betrayed me while making out she loved me and was faithful and insisted on absolute loyalty from me in return.
At that moment I heard Terry say, " She's bucking, she's on her way, look at her go."
"Fucking Jesus" cried John, jumping off the table to his feet and urgently pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and getting it to his cock just too late to catch his first spunk shot, his body jerking his hands and fingers plastered in his white sticky semen, "Jesus, I've fucking come. I've shot my load."
I could see all the signs of orgasm that I had witnessed in Sandra so many times. She was jerking uncontrollably all the way along her body. The man whose mercy she was at appeared to turn towards the camera and smile as Sandra was delivering pussy juice all over his cock.
"The bastard, there he goes again, he knows the camera is there, he does it every time the arrogant shit." John said, jealously.
Now I was livid, my wife had given her self to this man but to him she was just another conquest.
He was getting his end away, having his hole, and was enjoying every split second of the thrill. He started shagging like a man obsessed. I have never seen hips so supple and flexible, he was like an athlete with immense speed and endurance.
Sandra then did something she had never done for me.
"He's got her coming again the bastard, look at her face, she's wild, wild." Terry said as he walked towards the screen "Fuck it, I going to spunk all over the monitor." and he did.
It was running down the screen.
"You silly pillock" John said. "Get out the way, I want to see her shoot again."
As Terry moved away, John said "She's shooting now, she fucking shooting, look at his fucking arse go man, just look at that arse go."
Without stopping the hunk reared up and looked up to the sky and I could see, his entire body begin to jerk and convulse. His thrusts became more urgent and unbelievably more rapid than before.
"He's bloody spunking her." Terry said "Go on sink yer fucking sludge up it, fill her cunt up."
"Terry had moved back in front of the screen, "Get yer arse out of the way, I want to see him cream her, yer silly bastard." John shouted with urgency.
The blonde hunk fell forward shoving himself as far between Sandra's legs as he could.
Her legs came up and wrapped around him without once stopping her own fuck rhythm.
I knew then that the worst was happening. He was ensuring that she took every last drop of his sperm as deep into her as he could get it and she instinctively made her cunt as available as she could to accommodate it.
Using his entire physique and superior strength to subdue Sandra ensuring she could not move if she wanted to, he was now driven only by the male imperative to fulfil its instinctive animal purpose, he pinned her in place while his zealous, writhing and thrusting reached a trance like crescendo.
He turned again to the camera. He appeared to have entered a state of crazed delight and his eyes seemed to roll up into his head as he throbbed and jerked about three final times then his face and body relaxed into a completely self-satisfied, exhausted calm.
When I arrived home, Sandra was sat in the chair watching television.
"Right who is the blonde bastard that fucked you last Thursday?" I screamed at her.
She looked shocked but once I confronted her with the details, she admitted everything.
"Why Sandra, why?" I yelled at her.
She burst into tears crying uncontrollably begging me to forgive her, but how could I ever trust her again?
For a few months we tried to patch things up until one day I overheard her telling one of her friends how great the sex had been with Simon.
I tried to resist him but once he was inside my knickers I was ready to fuck," she said, "He was just too gorgeous, I couldn't resist him. I'm having his baby now; I really don't know what to do."
We were finished.
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