I have a feeling wife is fucking a couple of friends

The suspicion didn’t hit me all at once. It was a slow, creeping thing, like a fog rolling in off the lake. Sarah’s old friend, Chloe, moved to town a few months back. They’d known each other since college, over twenty years. Sarah had told me stories, the kind you laugh about when you’re older and supposedly wiser. Stories of wild nights, of being, let’s be frank, a pair of dirty sluts. I never thought much of it. Ancient history.

But then Chloe got a boyfriend, Mark. And that’s when the dynamic shifted.

Suddenly, my wife wasn’t just having lunch with an old girlfriend. She was a permanent fixture with them. It was always the three of them. Heading to bars I’d never heard of, hitting clubs she said were “too loud” for me, always stopping by their house for a “quick drink” that lasted half the night. I’d be left on the couch, watching the game, pretending I didn’t notice how her perfume was a little stronger when she left.

At first, it was just an annoyance. I felt like a third wheel in my own marriage. But then, I stumbled across it. I was browsing for some porn, something straightforward, and I found this video. It was about a married couple who used their wife as a… well, a “fuck doll” for their friends. The wife was this beautiful, willing centerpiece for their shared lust.

And a switch flipped in my head.

It wasn’t jealousy that curdled in my gut. It was a hot, sharp spike of pure arousal. What if that was Sarah? What if my wife, the woman I’ve shared a bed with for twelve years, was their personal plaything?

The pieces started to fit together in this twisted, perfect puzzle. Why would she always want to hang out with a couple? She’s not a third wheel. She’s the main event. I started imagining it. Vividly. Sarah on her knees between them in the back of a Uber. Mark, his hands on her hips, taking her from behind while Chloe watches, her fingers tracing patterns on Sarah’s skin. Chloe whispering in her ear, reminding her of the girls they used to be, unlocking that wildness I haven’t seen in years.

Now, I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s all I see. When she tells me she’s going out with them, a jolt goes straight to my cock. I just grunt, “Have fun, honey,” and my mind is already painting pictures. Her moans swallowed by their kisses, her body used and cherished between them.

This weekend… fuck. This weekend they’re all going to a three-day music festival. Camping. No hotels. Just a tent and the three of them. I told her I had to work, but the truth is, the thought of them out there, covered in sweat and festival grime, high on music and each other… it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever conceived.

I know I’ll be here. In this quiet house. My hand wrapped around my dick, stroking it raw to the images my brain conjures. I’ll imagine the way Mark must taste her, the way Chloe must guide her mouth, the sounds she makes when she’s completely lost, when she’s their slut.

Is it real? Or do I just want it to be real so damn bad that my mind is building the evidence for me? I don’t know. Sarah would never admit it. She’d blush and call me ridiculous. But that’s part of it, isn’t it? The secret. The knowing smile she might have.

I think I’ve unlocked something in myself. A new kink. This burning, obsessive turned-on feeling that comes from imagining the woman I love being the ultimate object of desire for others. It’s confusing as hell, but Christ, it’s powerful. My phone is right here. If anyone wants to talk about it, to feed this fire… I’m all in.