There is a conundrum which has always perplexed me. If, one day, you went to surprise your wife when she wasn't expecting you, and you found her having sex with another man, what would you feel? Would you feel anger, or arousal, or betrayal.
Alternatively, what if you realised that she wasn't having sex voluntarily, but was in fact being raped? Would you feel rage against her attacker and launch a ferocious attack against him to rescue the woman you love?
I am sure you would feel just the way I described, and I would have thought that I would feel the same way, however, a few weeks ago, I discovered that my feelings were somewhat different.
Here is what happened.
Normally, on Friday evenings, my sexy thirty five year old wife goes to the gym, and since she always drives, she changes at home before and after her session, so she is travelling in a quite revealing outfit. On this particular Friday she phoned me to say that her car wouldn't start, so she rang me to tell me that she was going to walk.
I apologised that I couldn't get home until about eight, so she would probably be home before I arrived. I tried to persuade her not to go but she was adamant that she didn't want to miss her regular session, so I gave up on that argument, and assumed that she would walk the fifteen minutes in her regular clothes and change when she got there. I also assumed that she would keep to the pavement, rather than use the short cut across the park, particularly since it was rapidly growing dark.
Only about half an hour after Sam rang me, my last meeting was cancelled, so I was able to slip away, and I calculated that I might catch her either at the gym or part way home. As I got close to home I used 'Find Friends' on my phone to locate my wife, and what I discovered really worried me, since she seemed to be in the middle of the park and not moving.
My approach to the park was from the direction of the gym, rather than our home, and, wanting to get to Sam as quickly as possible, I parked in the car park and ran towards where her phone was located.
At first I couldn't find her, but then I did, and was totally shocked by what I saw. She was flat on her back, with a youngish guy on his knees between her legs. Her jogging shorts were around her ankles and his ankles were resting on them, effectively immobilising her lower body. Her hands seemed to be tied behind her back, maybe by cable ties, and something was stuffed into her mouth so her screams of protest were coming out as muffled grunts.
My trapped wife still had her panties on, and I assumed that he would remove those next, but, instead, he pulled up her stretchy top and her sports bra and started playing with her nipples. Sam has very sensitive nipples, so she was almost certainly getting turned on by her rapist's touch, which must have given her some conflicting emotions.
As I watched the young man caressing my wife's breasts I was also feeling conflicting emotions. I knew that I should rush over and save my vulnerable wife, but my cock was rock hard and my mind was working overtime, imagining how awesome watching this fit young man fucking my wife would be.
I continued to stand behind a tree, mesmerised by the action I was watching, and gradually accepting that I wasn't going to try to interfere, but would just enjoy being a voyeur. I must admit that apart from arousal, I was also enjoying a sense of revenge on my wife who had been rationing our sex life to a couple of 'quickies' once or twice per month, and even then it was always totally vanilla. No blow jobs, and no anal.
I wondered if the rapist would also take her virgin arse, I really hoped so.
Finally my wife's attacker pulled down her panties, and slipped them under his ankles, then pulled down his own trousers and briefs and started to stroke his cock. I couldn't see whether it was big or small from my vantage point, but I certainly hoped it was big. As he started to enter her I undid my zip and pulled out my own hard cock and started to stroke it slowly, being very careful not to squirt too soon, as I was the most excited I've ever been, but knew that if I ejaculated, my desire would instantly switch to some totally different emotion.
He started to enter my wife's pussy, which I assumed was already wet from his earlier attention, and soon he was plunging in and out of her hot vagina, and Sarah was making little grunting sounds on each inward thrust, although I couldn't tell whether it was from pain or pleasure. After a few minutes my wife's grunts were changing into 'ah..ah...ah' sounds which I knew meant that she was getting close to her orgasm, and that realisation brought me close to an orgasm of my own. I had reduced my stroking to just one finger on the underside of my engorged cock, just behind the purple head, but I was still getting closer and closer to squirting.
Then she climaxed with a loud, but muffled, shriek, and I erupted, squirting my white ejaculate over the tree I was standing behind, then slowing to a trickle which slid over my fingers. Sam bucked around in the throws of her orgasm for quite a while after I finished, while her rapist just kept still, fully embedded in her convulsing sex. I wasn't sure, but I sensed that he hadn't finished, so I wondered what his plan was. Then I found out.
The rapist withdrew his cock, climbed off my wife, and then flipped her over onto her front, and she and I figured out what his plan was at almost the exact moment. He was intending to bugger her, but our reactions were very different, she commenced trying to shriek through her gag, twisting and turning to try to avoid the inevitable, whereas I started to get hard again. This was turning into the most sexually exciting event of my life.
With Sarah now on her front I was sure she wouldn't be able to see me if I moved, and I didn't think the guy would be looking anywhere other than my wife's gorgeous and available arse, so I moved quietly to a different tree which gave me a much better view. In fact I saw his penis just as he was moving towards her virgin anus, and I was thrilled to see that he was pretty big, which made me even more excited. My loving wife had never once allowed me to fuck her bum, and I was enjoying the revenge, in fact, I was enjoying it so much that I'd pumped it hard again.
As he started to work slowly in and out, I started masturbating in earnest again.
Sam was shaking her head from side to side, and grunting like crazy, I was pumping my cock ferociously and grinning like a madman, and the rapist finally got all the way in and really started pumping fast and hard. I wasn't sure whether my wife could cum again with anal penetration, but honestly, I didn't care, as long as the guy fucking her got to cum, and I got to cum for the second time.
Just as I could feel that boiling feeling in my balls, the rapist started his final approach, ramming in and out of my wife's stretched arsehole He and I climaxed at almost exactly the same time, but my orgasm was small and over quickly, and his seemed to go on and on. Finally he was finished, and he withdrew his deflating cock, pulled up his pants and jeans, reached into his rucksack and brought out a pair of snipers, which he used to free Sam's wrists, then he just walked nonchalantly away.
I watched my defiled wife as she removed the gag and threw it to the ground, then pulled up her panties and shorts, and started to walk towards the park gates and home.
Up to that point I hadn't given any thought as to what I should do when it was all over. I could just about get to my car and drive home and be there before Sam, but she would surely want to know why I didn't pick her up, which would have avoided her getting raped. Arriving just after her would get the same response, so, I decided that the best course of action was to go to the pub for half an hour and arrive home exactly when she was expecting me.
Sipping my pint of delicious London Pride I had a chance to mull over my action, or rather inaction, when I should have rushed across and saved my wife, and also to try to understand why I was so turned on by watching my wife get raped. Later, about half way through my second pint, I still hadn't figured it out, so I decided to finish my beer and head home. I wasn't particularly looking forward to what I assumed would be hysterics, followed by a lengthy visit to the police station, but I knew I had to do it.
"Hello honey I'm home!" I called expecting her to be lying on the settee crying, or maybe she would rush into my arms, but neither was the case.
"Hi Darling, I'm in the lounge. Have you eaten?" She called back, sounding very cheerful. How strange, I thought.
I walked through into the lounge and bent and kissed her on the cheek.
"Did you perhaps call into a pub on the way home?" She asked with a little smile on her face.
"I may have done." I answered smiling back.
"Good for you." She said, still smiling, which would have been odd under any circumstances, but since I had just seen her brutally raped, her reply was downright weird.
"I had a big lunch with the clients, thanks, so I'm not really hungry, but I think I'll make some coffee, do you want some?"
"Yes please." She answered, still cheerful.
The rest of the evening was completely normal except that she was nicer than she had been for some time. Curiouser and curiouser I thought to myself. When we got to bed she stroked my cock, and I started to replay the view of her rape in my head and I quickly got hard. She then slid down the bed and took me gently into her mouth, which was one more odd thing, since it was the first blow job she had given me for at least five years, but, I definitely wasn't about to query her actions.
