Good morning, my love.

"Good morning, my love!" I whispered, embracing my young wife, kissing her neck and inhaling the scent of her warm, sleep-warmed body. Stroking her back through her semi-transparent nightgown, lowering my hand onto her firm, smooth buttocks, remembering how just last night she had given herself to me with all her love and tenderness, I thought about how tonight we had an unforgettable concert by our mutually favorite band to look forward to. Anticipating that after the concert, she would be mine again, and only mine.

"Hello, Petrov," my wife replied and nestled against my shoulder, not returning the kisses, embarrassed that her teeth weren't brushed yet in the morning. She never reciprocated my affection in the mornings,

which, I must admit, annoyed me somewhat. What also always drove me crazy was that she almost always called me by my last name and very rarely by my first name, only when she was angry with me about something.

"Should I make breakfast while you're in the shower?" I asked.

"Of course. Just not a lot, I'm trying to eat less again," she replied, stretching languidly.

Her body, even without diets, looked as if it had stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. Jet-black, wavy hair. Thin, uncorrected but well-defined eyebrows. Large, beautiful brown eyes. Scarlet lips, shaped like Cupid's bow. A slender neck with two small moles. Not large but perky, size B breasts. A wasp waist and a rounded bottom. And of course, her legs... no, her legs... no, her beautiful, slender legs. No matter how you looked at it—any man's dream.

She got out of bed and, shuffling across the floor in her bare feet, went to the bathroom while I went to the kitchen to make breakfast.

"Petrov, take a sedative, or I won't be able to go to work with eyes red from laughter," she mumbled, choking on her semolina porridge and laughter. I retreated to the bathroom.

"You didn't forget we're going to the concert today, did you?" I shouted, trying to be heard over the noise of the shower.

"Of course I remember. Pick me up after work and we'll go straight there. Just don't come early like you usually do, wait for my call; I have a report for the boss today, I might be late," she shouted back.

She worked as an office manager, and a classic suit suited her extraordinarily well. She sometimes wore non-prescription glasses for a more serious look and appeared like a true business lady, or a teacher from an adult porn video.

The day passed unnoticed, and in the evening, after her call, we were on our way to the concert. Parking the car in the lot and forgetting about it until the next day, we went to a bar to warm up. After a couple of cocktails, my beloved was clearly tipsy.

"Did you eat anything during the day?" I asked her.

"Nope," she replied, winking playfully, "I'm on a diet."

"Then don't drink too much, or you won't make it to the end of the concert," I worried.

"And if I don't make it, will you carry me home in your arms?" she flirted.

"Alright, I'll drag you somehow," I replied, as if reluctantly.

We got home without incident, cheerfully and loudly telling jokes and funny stories from life. Arriving home, we settled in the living room on the sofas, turned on music, and went to see what we had at home to drink and snack on. My wife, practically completely drunk, tired and intoxicated, sprawled on the sofa, giving us full carte blanche to handle things in the kitchen. Her skirt had ridden up a bit, showing the lacy edge of her stockings and the most intimate triangle in black panties. Her blouse was disheveled from the ride on my back and jumping around on the street, revealing a beautiful bra and magnificent breasts within it. Her tipsy gaze and hair disheveled over her shoulders made her look simply like a nocturnal goddess in the semi-darkness of the room.

The guys paid no attention to my wife's appearance, thereby relaxing my vigilance. Everyone was drunk, not just her, which allowed our company to behave in a relaxed and simple manner. While I was cutting up snacks, the guys smoked and whispered quietly behind my back; I only heard giggles and some phrases that I practically couldn't make out, or didn't want to make out and delve into the essence of what was said.

Continuing the drinking session in the living room, I barely noticed that my wife and I were always poured a bit more than them, and consequently, my wife quickly got drunk and fell asleep right on the sofa in the living room, taking up almost the entire sofa, sprawled on it as she pleased. Her bottom was exposed, her legs tangled in an extraordinary knot. Her arms tucked under her head completely pulled up her blouse, allowing a view of her flat stomach and navel with a piercing.

"Guys, pour yourselves drinks while I carry my wife to the bedroom!" I said, practically in the words of D'Artagnan, but my legs after all the drinking wouldn't obey me, and my coordination left much to be desired. And of course, I needed the help of two others so as not to fall somewhere in the dark hallway with such precious cargo.

We carefully, as it seemed to me, carried my wife to the bed and laid her down, thoughtfully covering her with a blanket. My drunken eyes didn't even see how the hands of one of our guests lingered under the blanket for a long time, pulling my wife's panties down. But he didn't take them off completely, only pulled them halfway down. And of course, I couldn't understand that my wife's sigh was not the sigh of a tired woman but a sigh from the penetration of his finger into her crotch.

We returned to the living room and continued our drinking session with stories about life, women, and our youthful exploits.

Through the drunken haze, tired from all the drinking, I gradually started listening more than talking. My body wouldn't obey, and my head refused to perceive reality. I was starting to fall asleep...

I woke up with a terrible hangover. I had slept right on the sofa in the living room, in an uncomfortable position for it. My arms were numb. I was thirsty and wanted to start perceiving reality.

In front of me lay a disc, and on a piece of paper was scrawled: "Watch it. You'll like it."

On weak legs, I got up from the sofa and with hands trembling from the hangover, inserted the disc into the computer's drive. What I saw stunned me and practically instantly brought me to my senses...

...

First, unclear images, glares from lamps and the chandelier, all three guys and their indistinct voices.

"Well, shall we go?" said one of them.

"Yeah," replied another.

The door to the bedroom. A hand turns the knob, opens the door, and turns on the light. It's visible how under the blanket, curled up, my wife is sleeping.

"Let's pour some into her," a voice is heard off-camera. Then the sound of a bottle neck touching a glass, and one of the guys approaches the bed with a glass of vodka. He roughly and without emotion took my wife by the neck, lifted her into a sitting position, and tilting her head back, practically poured the contents of the glass into my wife's mouth. She tried to resist and choked, but drank a lot. After that, they repeated the procedure with the glass once more and threw my wife's limp

body back onto the pillow.

One was the cameraman, and the other two walked around the bedroom and rummaged through the dresser drawers and wardrobes. Valuables quickly disappeared into their pockets.

"Oh, look guys, lube. That'll come in handy. Wow, and a dildo too, that'll also come in handy," said one of the two and threw them onto the bed.

"Well then, shall we begin?" said the cameraman and set up the camera on the nightstand so that the bed was fully in the frame. One of them approached my wife and roughly slapped her cheeks. She only mumbled incoherently in response and, without even looking, tried to pull away as if from an annoying fly. It was clear—my wife was very drunk.

They threw the blanket onto the floor, and the view revealed my wife's half-naked body, with her panties pulled down earlier. They undressed her slowly, first her skirt, then her blouse, bra, and panties. Left only her stockings. The entire undressing process was accompanied by rough kisses on the lips and breasts. With six hands, they stroked my wife's body, reaching into all possible openings, even her ears. One of them positioned my wife on the bed so that her arms and legs were spread out. Then they undressed themselves and drew lots. From their conversation, it was clear that each of them would have sex with her in every orifice, but the lots would determine who would go first, second, and so on.

First by lot was classic sex. One of the guys took the lube and generously smeared my wife's crotch. Then he pulled her by the legs to the edge of the bed and flipped her onto her stomach so that her legs were on her knees on the floor. Slapping her hard on the buttocks, he aimed his not-so-small member straight into her and with a powerful thrust drove it in all the way to his balls. My wife gasped but didn't wake up. Only reflexively tried to push him away with her hands. He took her by the wrists, crossed her arms behind her back, and started fucking her. He fucked her hard and for a long time, but after cumming, he kept his cock inside my wife's womb for a long time. All this time, while he was raping the girl, the other two were jerking off their dicks and egging him on to go deeper, fuck faster. Pulling away from her, he slapped her buttocks once more and went to the table to pour himself a drink.

Next came the turn for oral sex. The second rapist didn't change positions. He simply squatted in front of my wife's head and, taking her by the hair, opened her mouth with his hands. His member was larger than the previous one and barely fit into my spouse's small mouth, but he persistently shoved it in. And then, simply rocking her head, he raped her mouth. She choked and couldn't breathe properly, but all these attempts to pull away only aroused him more. He came abundantly. Semen flowed from my wife's mouth down her chin onto the sheet. After finishing ejaculating, he pushed my wife's face into the puddle of semen that had formed on the sheet and left her lying in it.

The third guy, without thinking twice, approached the girl's butt, generously smeared it with lube, and inserted a vibrator. He turned it on and, watching it rock in time with her moans, went to the table to have a drink for the three of them.

"To a beautiful end to the evening!" a toast sounded. At this time, my wife began to come to her senses, either from the pain or from the anal sex. She tried to turn onto her back, but the guys quickly grabbed her and poured another half glass of vodka into her mouth. With the remaining vodka in the glass, they wiped her face clean of semen. She passed out again.

I could never get my wife to agree to anal sex. No amount of persuasion or tricks helped me. The forbidden fruit remained out of my reach. And here, some barely familiar man was simply pounding my wife's ass. She writhed and moaned in pain but couldn't offer any resistance simply physically. He came like a beast, growling and arching. Pulling his cock out of her ass, he wiped it on the sheet and gave way to the first rapist.

The whole action continued for about three and a half hours. They switched places, fucking her alone and in pairs. By the end of the second hour, my wife was no longer resisting. She simply flopped around on the bed like a lifeless doll. The finale was sex with triple penetration. From such a video, I became terribly aroused, but I watched without looking away until the very end. At the end of the video, they filmed her in various poses and, threatening brutal reprisal, turned off the camera.

I sat in a stupor for about 20 minutes. Then I got up and went to the bedroom. Opening the door, I saw my wife lying on her stomach. Covered in dried semen, with buttocks reddened from the blows, disheveled hair, and smeared makeup, she was sleeping peacefully.

After cleaning up the mess and wiping my wife's body with a wet towel, I stared at her buttocks. How attractive and close they seemed at that moment. I couldn't resist, smeared her buttocks with lube again, and entered her. What sex it was! From the pleasure, I almost lost consciousness. I was fucking my beloved woman in the ass. From the strong rocking and unpleasant sensations, she woke up and tried to get out from under me, but I held her under me and fucked her until I came. I had never come for so long and sweetly before. It seemed to me that a whole sea of semen poured out of me into her ass. I pulled out my cock. Lay down next to her and said quietly: I love you.

She turned her face to me, looked at me silently with a questioning gaze, and then asked a question to which I still cannot give an answer: Is it true that you fucked me all night? I felt good. But I don't remember anything.

We still live together. And the disc also lives in our home, only my wife doesn't know about it.