You enter your home, the door was unlocked. Strange, as your wife normally leaves the door locked when she’s home. You walk into the entryway and notice a pair of shoes strewn to the side.

They aren’t yours.

You hear something from upstairs. You start walking up the steps, and catch glimpses of other articles of clothing scattered here and there. A pair of white sports shorts, a sleeveless jersey with a number and name on the back. “Bugs” it says. At the top of the steps is a womans blouse and skirt. Your wife’s. At the end of the hall you see the door to your bedroom askew ever so slightly, sounds growing louder as you approached the top of the stairway. It’s your wife, and she’s making clearly distinct moaning noises. Just before the doorway in her bra. You begin to creep towards the room.

As you make your way closer to the door her moans become louder and more pronounced. The creaks of your bed resonate in your ears. Something is happening to her. She’s begging for something, something huge but you can’t make it out. Just as you are about to push the door open you hear the sounds of a man grunting and taunting your wife.

Finally you push the door open and see it. Your wife on her knees, stark naked and dripping with sweat. Her hair is matted and messy, makeup running. She is kneeling next to a tall, muscular alpha of a man with silver white hair. His towering demeanour adds credence to the massive size of this cock, a long girthy member dripping with fluids from your wife’s sopping wet pussy that he was pounding not moments before. He furiously strokes his sizable shaft, liquids flinging wildly around as he builds to the explosive climax.

Your wife’s mouth is open, tongue hanging out like a panting bitch in heat, awaiting that delicious treat being held just out of her reach. You stand there, slack jawed at the sight before you. Saying nothing, you can only watch as the man finally unloads his sticky mess all over your wife’s face. Rope after rope of hot, pearly white jizz plasters her wanting face, painting her in a thick layer of manly seed. It lasts longer than any orgasm you could ever hope to achieve, a testament to the difference between you and him.

After what feels like an eternity, watching this stranger dump an impossible amount of baby-batter all over your wife’s face, he turns and looks you dead in the eye. A piercing gaze that speaks volumes, reaching deep into your soul and planting a firm, undenyable truth into your very being. Your wife was his now. And you knew it.

He then, for some strange reason, pulls a carrot out from nowhere and takes a big manly bite out of the crunchy vegetable and says to you…

“Nyeeeh. What’s up, Doc?”