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My Wife is a Whore

11th May 2020 - 14:40 | London, London


I was out one night with my wife, Mrs A. She was wearing tight white jeans, a red top, red high heels and a white denim jacket - she looked amazing.

Whilst we were at a bar I bumped into a couple of guys I used to work with and we chatted for a while as you do. After a few drinks they said they were leaving so we all went outside to say our goodbyes. Mrs A popped back in to use the toilet.

I chatted with my former colleagues for about 20 mins before they got in a taxi and left. But there was still no sign of Mrs A. I went back in the bar and found her chatting to a guy a lot younger than her. His hand was on her hip. I sauntered up close behind him at the bar and she was looking over his shoulder to me. I heard him ask Mrs A if she wanted another drink. She replied 'no thanks, but if you want to take me back to your place I would love a coffee.'

He said he was here for work and was staying in the Premier Inn down the road. She replied 'that's ok, lets go.'

She promptly left the bar with this guy, with his arm round her waist. I never saw her again until 8am the following morning when she got dropped off in a van with Sky Sports on the side. She had been fucked all night by him and had arranged to meet him again the following evening. The lucky guy was 7 years younger than her. She's such a whore. I love it.
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