When my wife, Selena, and I decided to rent a room in our basement, it was a great concept on paper. The revenue generated from the rental income would help pay for bills. She went through a lot of potential candidates to live in our home, weeding out those who we felt were troublesome. Our basement apartment did not have a separate entrance, so we wanted to feel safe with whoever was walking through our front door to get to theirs.
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While many applicants seemed like worthy candidates, it just so happened that my wife’s Arabic intern, a kid named Hussein, was looking for a place to stay during his internship. Hussein was about 20, in college while interning, and was the opposite of me in just about every way, despite me being a decade older than him. While I looked meek and put a lot of work into my appearance, Hussein was rugged, a man’s man. All the applicants came to see our place dressed well for a great first impression, but when Hussein came over to check out our place, he wore a sweaty t-shirt and jeans, and didn’t even bother to take off his construction boots upon entering our home. Selena insisted that Hussein was the one to move in with us, inadvertently insulting me by saying “it would be nice to have a man around the house.” I know what she meant though: Hussein’s big hands and stocky body implied strength, something I lacked.
I asked Hussein if he would be giving us first and last’s month’s rent by cash or check, but Selena cut me off. She and Hussein talked it over and decided that, with his minimal budget, the least we could do is let him stay rent-free, at least for a while. The idea was, by not worrying about money, he would be able to completely focus on the internship and his education. Hussein was watching me intently with his fists clenched as she told me this, waiting for my reaction, almost like she was prepared for me to object. I remembered what it was like to be in a sea of student debt while getting my degree, working and living month to month in different apartments. I explained what I went through, then told him I would be happy to help him any way I could. Hussein smiled at me and slapped my cheeks a few times. He didn’t mean to, but his slaps hurt since his hands were so thick.
My wife would come to bed late almost every night after Hussein moved in. I had no problem with her chilling out with Hussein in the living room while I slept because they were quiet. At times, I would be awoken by some furniture movement. I deduced that Hussein was a shower-in-the-morning kind of guy because I could smell his aroma all over her when she crawled into bed. I always knew where he sat the previous night, based on articles of his clothing I would see scattered around an empty space on the sofa in the morning. Sometimes I even found my wife’s clothes on the floor next to his.
As the days went by, Selena became better friends with Hussein, spending more time with him than me. Their relationship evolved from intern/employer to tenant/landlord, and eventually, roommate/friend. My wife and Hussein went out after work a lot – sometimes with other staff from work, other times to hang out with his friends. She would pay for meals when they ate out, and tickets when they were at the movies.
As each day passed, Hussein made himself more at home than I had expected. He would eat most of my food, sprawled out on my couch wearing his t-shirt and boxers, bare feet on my coffee table, watching soccer on my big screen TV. Sometimes he would
tell ask me to grab something (of mine) for him from the fridge. He soon took my generosity for granted – by the end of the week, he had me running to the beer store and cooking meals for him – Arabic dishes that I had to look up recipes for, to boot. Hussein wasn’t big on gratitude, at least not towards me. It was like he didn’t expect anything less of obedience and servitude from me.
My wife referred to Hussein as an Alpha Male who hadn’t unleashed his potential yet, taking pride in being a part of his life, helping him because we could. She said Hussein had complained to her that I was taking too long picking up his dry cleaning, and doing his laundry. I defended myself, saying there were so many hours in the day, and she agreed, suggesting that I cut back on time-consuming things in my own life to accommodate our Arabian tenant. I felt like she was protecting me by telling me about his displeasure of my servitude, and how I could satisfy his needs. Ironing took more out of my day, as I was getting his shirts ready with mine. I was extra careful handling his clothing because he once slapped me for burning his favorite shirt. Hey, it worked – I’m a much better ironer now.
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In spite of my wife’s intern turning into the new man of the house, Selena and I got along great. However, there was no intimacy between us. She talked to me like one of the girls she hung out with. Selena loved to talk about Hussein, and I could tell she wanted to tell me so much more about him but was apprehensive about sharing too much. When I told her she could share anything with me, I wish I hadn’t, because she told me – without remorse but excitement – that she slept with Hussein. Multiple times. Right under my roof.
I was in complete denial about it. But the more she talked about fucking Hussein like it was the most natural thing in the world, I realized I might not have been oblivious to her adultery as I thought. Maybe I just didn’t want to accept what was going on right under my nose. The concept of some kid shoving his big cock into my beautiful, faithful, innocent wife was just insane. And now it was my reality.
“How…how long as it been going on?” I asked.
“Wasn’t long after we moved in,” Selena answered. “When you’re at work, we’re here alone together. It wasn’t something I set out to do, but now that I have, I have no intention of stopping.”
“How could you do this to me? To us?”
“See, I was worried about this at first. I knew you would see it as a betrayal. He said you would throw a hissy fit.” Selena was laughing at that last comment.
“You and Hussein…” I said trying to take her bombshell in. Again, the affair I could deal with, but her fucking her intern, someone who bullies me around in my own house, was a whole other story.
“I want you to know I didn’t set to hurt you,” Selena said trying to console me as she rubbed my back. “I still love you, and I want to stay married to you. But I want to keep having sex with Hussein…and I don’t want to have sex with you. At least not while I’m with him.”
“So, you’re with him?”
“Not in the romantic sense. I don’t love him. I love his cock. I love the way he fucks me. I love the way he treats you. It’s what usually kicks off our fuck sessions.”
“You gotta be kidding me.”
“Nope. Don’t worry. I accept you for who you are. You are a beta male, and he is an alpha. There is just a natural pecking order in life. Guys like you get the girl, but guys like him get to fuck the girl.”
“We need to talk about this.”
“And we will. Nothing has changed. You’re still my husband. I’m not really depriving you of sex because we weren’t really having any as it is. We’re still sleeping in the same bed every day, and my wedding ring is staying on my finger. But as far as sex goes, I’m not touching you. I told Hussein my body is exclusive to him.”
“So, what am I supposed to do for sex?” I asked rhetorically.
“I can always tell you about the things Hussein does to me while you jerk off. Would that help?”
She was bragging to me more so than confessing. She was proud of how she satisfied him, about all the nice compliments he gave her. She even told me about his stamina in bed, which impressed her since he was a stocky guy, how thick his dick was – 11 inches, and how he loved making her beg for more. Selena went into details about how she worshiped his big dick with both of her hands, tongue, and lips at the same time. She told me about the amount of cum he loved to splatter her face with.
This was not the prim and proper wife I had married, and she sensed my uneasiness, ceasing her discussion of the topic immediately. I told her not to stop because I didn’t want her to hold back anything from me. At this point, I figured the only way I could win her back was if she was completely open with me, so I encouraged her to keep telling me more. She kissed me on the cheek and told me how happy she was that she was able to talk to me this way. This made my anguish worth it.
“I know all of this is out of character for me, sweetie,” Selena said to me. “You have to understand, I never knew…if you saw the size of Hussein’s cock, geez, now I understand what a ‘beer can cock’ is. Thick as a baby’s arm. Your bully’s dick is just so goddamn big… it’s a massive cock, honey. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but you said you wanted honesty. I’ve never felt the urge to submit to someone…something…before I met Hussein.”
Selena went on to tell me how unsatisfied in bed she was during our coupling. She loved me, but I was too nice and delicate in bed. I felt like she was supposed to be the nice, delicate one, and wanted a man to ravish her hard, rough, and selfishly. When I told her I could have done those things if she had just talked to me, she surprised me by saying maybe, at one point, but when she met Hussein, all she wanted to do was submit to her Arabic intern. He was a natural bully and knew how to treat the both of us. That hurt, even though it wasn’t her intention to hurt me.
“No one has to know about this.” My wife said, patting my chest. “I don’t want it getting out that I’m sleeping with someone else, I don’t need people calling me a whore.”
“We can work this out, baby…” I whimpered.
“This isn’t up for negotiation.” Selena immediately said, nipping any hope I have of salvaging the status quo of our marriage. “This is how it’s going to be. You’re my husband, and I love you. But if you want to stay together, this is the new normal. I’m with you emotionally. But I’m Hussein’s girl physically. And I’m going upstairs to take care of him right now.”
“Listen, just to put things into perspective, why don’t you come upstairs with me. Let me talk to Hussein and tell him about our conversation. He’ll be happy you finally know about us.”
“Because he wants to fuck me in front of you.”
“I know, right? He said he’s going to make you watch him destroy me with his big cock.”
“Oh my God…”
“Process this. When it’s time to come upstairs, I’ll text you.”
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About 20 minutes later my phone went off. She was telling me to come to Hussein’s room. The walk upstairs felt like impending doom. I was sweating I was nervous. Hussein intimidated me enough; now he was going to fuck my girl and make me watch.
When I go to Hussein’s room, he made me lay on my back on the floor. I looked away instinctively, but Hussein snapped his fingers and pointed at his eyes with his index and middle fingers.
“Watch this, Zamel,” Hussein said, insulting me with a derogatory Arabic word. My wife got comfortable on her knees while Hussein stood before her with arms crossed. She began worshiping his big dick with her tongue, lips, and both hands without any regard for my reaction. Once half of his cock slid between her pouty lips, Hussein took control and gripped the back of her head before thrusting his hips backward and forwards rather aggressively.
The way Hussein was skull-fucking my wife’s mouth scared me, but I didn’t want him to stop. The cocky look on the Arab’s face told me he was enjoying the show he was putting on in front of me. My first instinct was to rush to Selena’s aid, but her body language told me she didn’t need to be rescued. My sweet, innocent girl was being manhandled by this stocky Arab, and there was nothing I could do about it even if I wanted to.
To see her tongue lap up Hussein’s hairless, sand-colored balls was so foreign to me. My girlfriend never gave me a blow job – a hand job was the most I ever got as far as “oral” sex was concerned. She wouldn’t even look at my dick when she was tugging on it. And now here she was, mesmerized by the young Arab’s big dick. It was like she wished she had a third hand to take care of her intern’s enormous cock.
Hussein, the horny young male that he was, began getting impatient with my wife. At this point, I realized that, while Selena was hypnotized by Hussein’s big cock, blowjobs and handjobs weren’t her forte – she didn’t know what she was doing. She genuinely liked tasting his sweaty cock because she licked it like a tootsie roll. But at that moment, Hussein wanted a cum receptacle. He took the initiative and began skull-fucking her pretty mouth. She was doing a terrible job keeping up, gagging and spitting his cock out to take breaths. Hussein became annoyed and tossed her on the bed on all fours, so she was facing me. He smacked her ass as he got behind her, grabbed a handful of blonde hair with one hand and her tight ass with another. Grabbing a magnum XXX condom and wrapping it around his dick so quickly that it seemed like a magic trick, Hussein motioned for me to come to him with his finger.
“C’mere, Zamel,” Hussein said to me, nodding me over to him. “Lie on your back with your face under Selena’s pussy. I want you to have a bird’s eye view of the destruction I’m about to cause.”
“Yes, Hussein.” I meekly obeyed, not knowing how to behave.
“Touch my dick and fuckin’ die.”
“Understood, Hussein,” I replied.
“I should be thanking you, Zamel,” Hussein chuckled as my wife moaned while he entered her. “Really, thanks for NOT fucking your wife. I appreciate how tight she is, I really, really do.”
“Uh…you’re welcome, I guess…” I said, making Hussein laugh at me.
“Alright, stop talking, you’ll kill my boner. Remember, touch my dick and I’ll slap the shit out of you in front of your wife.”
“Just put it in already!” Selena shouted. “You guys are killing me here!” She wasn’t kidding – her pussy was dripping onto my face.
Hussein bullied his enormous Arabic cock into her tight pussy. The girth of his big Persian cock was wider than the girth of my thumb. It was curved and hit my girl’s pussy in all the right places. I know because she was screaming how good Hussein was giving it to her. And every time she did, Hussein would look down at me and smile, that cocky grin that drew my wife to him in the first place.
Before long, the alpha male Arab swiftly slid his enormous cock out of my wife’s soaking wet pussy, whipped the condom off his big dick, sling-shotted it at me and laughed as his pre-cum slid down my nose and lips. I wiped it off with the sleeve feeling completely humiliated thankful that my wife was too caught up in her orgasmic bliss to care about her intern’s pre-cum dripping off my face. Even though I was sure she had cum already, perhaps multiple times, she wasn’t done. Neither was Hussein. The only one who had fully orgasmed was me, and I was the only one in the room with clothes on.
“Are you kidding me,” Hussein said looking at me incredulously. “Dude, did you just cum in your pants?”
“…yeah…” I said with my eyes down.
“You didn’t even touch yourself,” Hussein said shaking his head. My wife was looking at me like she was impressed and disgusted at the same time.
“You can leave now, sweetie,” Selena said while pointing to the door. “I think what you just did speaks volumes.”
“I…we need to talk about all of this…” I whimpered feeling ashamed, embarrassed, betrayed, and no longer horny.
“Later,” Hussein said. “Right now I got a nut to bust, and you’re killing my hard-on. Again. Get the fuck out.”
“But this is my—”
The last thing I heard as I shut the door closed behind me was my wife moaning orgasmically as I wimped out to her cocky young Arabic intern and his massive cock.
For full video see: Help My Wife: Desperate Husband Paying to Get Cuckolded