My wife doesn’t know I know the truth

To this day, my wife doesn’t know that I know the real truth. I still get proper hard when I think about it, no lie About 10 years back, my wife, let’s call her Amaka, 28, and I were about to finish university. We were both 18 then, proper young adults. Amaka and I met in secondary school and had only ever been with each other, taking each other’s virgin*ty I was over the moon, happy that I didn’t have to worry about her being with another guy I’m a medium built guy, 28, about 5’6” with a 5 inch d#ck.

Amaka is a 5’4” igbo babe, thick thighs, big yansh, small tummy, long hair, and small bre@sts Amaka was always the quiet, reserved type, not one to draw attention or act wild. She usually rocked simple clothes like T-shirts and jeans, always wearing those big granny panties. But once in a blue moon, she’d wear a th@ng under her jeans, and when it peeked out, ehn, I’d nearly lose it right there Our relationship was sweet, we mostly hung out with each other or our families. Our routine was solid good morning texts, meeting at school, lunch together, then texting all day after. But two months after graduation, I noticed Amaka changing. She started wearing more makeup, her clothes got tighter, and she was rocking th@ngs almost every other day. She also seemed to be pulling away, sometimes forgetting to send her usual good morning text or ghosting me for hours before dropping a Wetin you dey do? text with no explanation.

This went on for about a year. I was working a job with odd hours, and Amaka was in uni, still living with her parents. Around this time, we had a big fight over a rumor that she was hanging out with a guy named Chinedu behind my back. Amaka swore it was a lie, saying Chinedu only gave her a lift to cl@ss one day when her car broke down. Even though our friends were telling me to investigate, I decided to trust her and let it slide. But I started noticing changes in the bedroom too. Amaka, who always had a full bush, started shaving clean. She was trying new positions like revers* cowgirl which didn’t work for me because I’d keep slipping out with my small d#ck She was also getting bolder, mo@ning louder, talking dirty, and I could feel she wasn’t as tight as before.

One day, we had plans for a date and to chill at her place since her parents were out of town. I finished work around 4 PM, but Amaka texted me saying she couldn’t make it because of a group @ssignment due the next day. I asked for more details, but she didn’t reply for like two hours. When she finally texted back, she ignored my question and asked what I was up to, if I was busy. Thinking she might want me to come over, I said I had no plans. She didn’t reply for another 30 minutes, and I started feeling something was off, like she wanted me to be busy.

Trusting my gut, I sent another text saying, Actually, I’m going to hang with Tunde and his babe. Amaka replied in seconds Okay, baby, enjoy! Maybe we fit do something tomorrow. I love you! That’s when I knew something was wrong I waited an hour, then drove to her place, a townhouse in a quiet estate. I p@ssed by and saw the lights off, thinking maybe I was overreacting. But as I turned onto the next street, my heart sank Amaka had parked her car a block away on purpose. I parked and walked to her front door, about to knock, but I stopped to listen. I heard Amaka giggling and a guy’s voice, muffled by the door. There were ki$$ing sounds, then a door shut, and the voices stopped. The front door was locked, so I went around to the back to check if a window was open. It was dark, and I felt nobody would spot me.

Then I saw it and froze. In Amaka’s dark bedroom, lit only by moonlight, I saw the outline of a nak*d guy, his back to me, thru$ting hard into her bed. I could see a pair of legs resting on his shoulders, just the calves and feet visible. I couldn’t hear anything since the window was shut, but I could almost make out the bed hitting the wall I watched, shocked and strangely turned on. I felt cold, heartbroken, and h@rny all at once. Part of me wanted to believe it wasn’t Amaka. My d*ck was rock hard, and my breathing was fast. Then, everything became clear. The guy got up, and I saw the outline of his huge, thick d*ck, maybe 8 inches. He knelt down, facing slightly away from the window, and the woman got up to put his d*ck in her mouth. Her back was to me, but it was becoming obvious who she was After about 30 seconds, she turned and got on all fours, backing up to his d*ck. My heart broke it was definitely Amaka. 

Her face was sweaty, like she’d been running. Her eyes were closed, mouth open, as the guy slammed into her, fast and hard. I’d never seen her like that, scre@ming and gripping the sheets, her small bre@sts shaking from the speed.

I lost control. I barely touched my d*ck through my trousers before I exploded, shaking as I watched my babe getting pounded while my small d*ck spilled cvm. I crossed my legs, holding the tip, but the cvm oozed through my boxers and trousers, leaving a sticky mess. It looked like I’d pissed myself. I looked up and saw Amaka squ@t on his *ick, then lean forward and squ*rt all over him and the bed. I left and drove home in silence The next day, Amaka gave me a weak excuse, and I didn’t say anything. A month later, I got her to admit she cheated, but she lied, saying the guy only touched her through her th@ng, and she gave him a handj*b. She still doesn’t know what I saw.