Your Slut Wife is a Whore

Well Hello boys Let's start then~

After You Were Gone

The mountain air was cool as the sun dipped behind the peaks, casting long shadows through the open doorway of your home. You’d just stepped inside after a long day training in the hills, clearing your head from the growing unease that had been gnawing at you for months.

Chi-Chi stood framed in the entrance like a vision from one of your worst nightmares and darkest fantasies combined.

Her high bun was half-undone, strands plastered to her sweat-slicked neck with drying semen. Thick, pearly ropes crisscrossed her face—streaks over her sharp cheekbones, heavy globs clinging to her full lips, one long strand dangling from her chin like obscene jewelry. Her massive breasts heaved under the ruined blue harness, the thin straps barely containing them; cum had been sprayed in heavy arcs across the tops and valleys, pooling in the deep cleavage before trickling down her toned stomach. Between her spread thighs, her tiny thong was soaked and stretched aside, white rivulets leaking steadily from her swollen, gaping pussy and running down the insides of her thick legs in slow, glistening trails. Her platform sandals were splattered. The sharp, musky scent of sex and strangers hit you like a wall.

She didn’t move to cover herself. Instead she tilted her head, dark eyes gleaming with a mix of cruel amusement and raw, predatory hunger.

“Welcome home, husband,” she purred, voice still husky from screaming earlier. A fresh bead of cum slid from her lower lip; she caught it with her tongue and swallowed deliberately. “You’re just in time. They left maybe… twenty minutes ago? Still nice and warm inside me. Feel?”

She took one slow step forward. Another. The wet squelch of her thighs rubbing together was audible.

You froze.

Chi-Chi stopped inches from you, close enough that you could see the individual splatters on her skin, smell the mingled sweat and seed of at least half a dozen men. Her hand reached out fingers still sticky and trailed lightly down your chest, leaving faint white smears on your shirt.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she whispered, breath hot against your ear. “You’re thinking of leaving. Packing a bag. Walking out th