





mthic
likes adam556's upload

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It started innocently. Our neighbor, Mark, was going through a rough patch. His wife left, his truck broke down, and he needed help. My husband — told me to be kind. So I cooked for him a few times. Listened when he needed to vent. Ran errands when he couldn’t leave the house.
But it didn’t stop. Mark started calling late, asking for help with things that didn’t feel like emergencies. Fixing buttons, folding laundry, even rubbing his shoulders after ‘a long day.’ And asking me for sex. I felt… used.
I told my husband, I thought he’d be upset — maybe jealous. Instead, he leaned in and said, ‘It’s okay. Keep helping him. He needs you.’
I didn’t know what to make of that. Was it compassion? Or something else? Every time I said I was uncomfortable, he just smiled and said, ‘It makes me happy, seeing how needed you are.’
So I started letting him fuck me, I kept going over. And over. Until I wasn’t sure whose idea it really was anymore.
I love fucking him then coming home and my husband fucking me.
But it didn’t stop. Mark started calling late, asking for help with things that didn’t feel like emergencies. Fixing buttons, folding laundry, even rubbing his shoulders after ‘a long day.’ And asking me for sex. I felt… used.
I told my husband, I thought he’d be upset — maybe jealous. Instead, he leaned in and said, ‘It’s okay. Keep helping him. He needs you.’
I didn’t know what to make of that. Was it compassion? Or something else? Every time I said I was uncomfortable, he just smiled and said, ‘It makes me happy, seeing how needed you are.’
So I started letting him fuck me, I kept going over. And over. Until I wasn’t sure whose idea it really was anymore.
I love fucking him then coming home and my husband fucking me.


mthic
likes Sexyatsixty's upload


