VERÓNICA

Chapter 1

Dantes

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Original title: Verónica Chapter 1 of Verónica’s saga.
Dantes
originally published at www.relatosdantes.com
2017

VERÓNICA

CHAPTER 1

Few situations in life can make you lose control of things and yourself to the degree that this incomprehensible event took away from me. It took away from me the power of decision, it took away from me the good sense as well ... Sometimes I think that I still cannot get it back, and some others I think that maybe that day I really recovered it. I don’t know. There are few times when I feel much better than I felt before that day, and at times I feel the weight of guilt on my shoulders. This event changed my life ... our lives; it unleashed in me a certain lust that I would have previously been unable to feel, or admit. I must confess, expose this experience, and expect you to judge us, judge me and my wife, even though she does not think she has done anything wrong; but rather she thinks that she was reborn with all this ... Damn it! Do you see what I mean? It is in these moments when I feel good ... good for her and good for the excitement that gives me her new way of being, her new personality, her new way of feeling, of dressing, her new way of walking, her new … “Life”. She is another woman. God, maybe she was always there, but I never noticed her; I had not given myself the space or I had not had the courage to see her ... she was there, hidden, and sometimes even liberated; she was there ... waiting to get out!

My wife's name is Veronica, and she's a beautiful woman. My name is Daniel, and I married her four years ago. It was a fairytale wedding, we were anxious and very happy, we had waited for me to graduate and get a good job. We were dating since high school, and from that day came the thought of a dreamy marriage; we were very much in love ... well, we still are. The first year of married we dedicate ourselves to enjoy life; we went to expensive restaurants, we traveled when work allowed, we shared a lot with friends and we spent passionate nights under the light of candles. All that changed when our son Tomas was born, not in a bad way, but to orient our happiness in another direction. Now he is two years old, and we adore him; Veronica stopped working to take care of him, because I got a promotion in my work, and that balanced our income.

I have always admired the beauty of my wife. I often noticed the envy I caused in other men when they saw me holding hands with her. She is tall, slender; she has a very soft cinnamon skin. Her wizarding face and sculptural body would allow her to excel as a model in the most demanding fashion show. In addition, her breasts retained the pair of sizes that they gained after pregnancy; so believe me when I tell you that today, she has an impressive lead; firm and round breasts like melons, and delicate nipples that reign over her immaculate and smooth skin ... Ugh, let me tell you, objectively, that she is simply beautiful

Now that I think of it, everything that is happening to me, and what it has motivated me to write this story, did not happen in a gradual way. The truth is that the birth of my new wife was a matter of a day, and not even of a day, but of a night. The woman trapped inside my wife suddenly escaped that night, and took advantage of her best recourse: surprise, to do what she wanted with me.
About a month and a half ago, we celebrated our fourth anniversary of marriage. We decided to go out and celebrate, as we did for anything in our first year of marriage. She bought a very light and low-cut dress in advance. It was a thin cloth garment, of a semi-matured red color, that dramatically enhanced the shape of her body. The dress reached the thighs; thin braces crossed her shoulders and after crossing her naked back they ended up tied to a fourth over her hips. Those braces killed me since I saw them; if there is something I admire in a woman are firm breasts, and the way those braces tensed to hold Veronica's breasts ... Ugh ... they really amazed me. Looking at her, I could imagine introducing my hand between the braces and the chest of my wife, without touching the braces or her skin.

I spent all that day in the office anxious to see her that night, I imagined her arranged for our appointment, with that dress and some pretty high-heeled shoes; besides, I knew that she liked to wear shiny stockings to show off her beautiful legs; and Veronica knew that her garters drove me crazy. What else I could say? My imagination was only freezing time; that morning and that afternoon became an eternity.

When I got home, my patience was rewarded. I had never seen my wife so beautiful and desirable. My instincts awoke immediately when I saw her in that dress, the shoes and the shiny stockings with which I had imagined her. As she descended the stairs, she intentionally lifted her skirt to show me the lace garter belt that hugged the top of her thighs; it was black with red stitching; I had never seen it, it was surely a surprise planned for me, and wow, of course, it was a great surprise.

We had planned everything for that night. We would leave our son with Veronica's mother and we would go to a bar that we frequented in our university years. It was not very elegant, but she wanted to reminisce about old times, and seeing her dressed like that, I could not say NO to her desires. We would enjoy a romantic dinner, we would pick up Tomas, and we would go home to tear ourselves to pieces in bed.

We arrived at my mother-in-law's house about eight thirty, and I got off to greet her. I get along well with her, and whenever we see each other we talk a bit about how things are. But that night I did not want to waste time, so I decided to limit myself to make an appearance, to prevent Veronica from getting stuck talking to her mother. While we exchanged the usual greetings and watched as Tom laughed in the arms of his grandmother, I saw out of the corner of my eye that Ramón, my false father-in-law, did not take his eyes off my wife.

Ramón is Veronica’s stepfather, and she married Gladys, my mother-in-law, two years after she became a widow. Then my wife was eighteen, and she had to endure living under their roof. She told me several times that she did not get along with him; she told me he was a sexual predator, and that she had often surprised him by spying on her behind the door when she was getting dressed As time passed I realized that she was telling the truth; That dirty old man, almost in his sixties, lost no opportunity to look at my wife's legs, so I, like Veronica, barely spoke to him, I just ignored him. Also: Veronica recently told me that, years before we got married, she had gone out to a party with some friends and she had obviously had too much to drink. She threw himself on the bed dressed as she came, and fell asleep seconds after touching the pillow. She told me that she dreamed about her stepfather's face, and that in the dream she felt hands running down her breasts and sliding down her bottom and crotch. She thought that the hands were mine, and she dedicated herself to enjoy the touches that she felt. That's why the next morning she was not too surprised to wake up remove sweaty and with her untidy clothes, since her dreams had been highly erotic. But she was struck by the burning in her nipples, as if they had been stretching all night, and the discomfort in her buttocks, as if she had been victims of strong squeezes. She confessed me that she imagined many things, things that she did not detail but that I eventually imagined; she preferred to forget everything to ensure the stability of her family.

Well, going back to the night of our appointment, while Veronica was turning her back on him, her dirty old stepfather was brazenly looking at her ass and legs. He did not seem to care that I was there. For my part, beyond seeing a dirty old man, I perceived something like a bad essence in that guy, and yet somehow I understood it. That bastard had lived for about ten years in the same house with the sculptural woman who is my wife, without being able to put his hand on her at least once. Suddenly I was reminded of the movie "Lolita", that of Jeremy Iron, and the not-so-crazy idea that Ramón had married Gladys just to be close to Verónica crossed my mind.

When we finally got out, Veronica asked me if I had noticed how her stepfather looked at her; She seemed annoyed, but something in her tone of voice surprised me. I thought that maybe it had only been my impression, and I told her that she was so attractive that night, so I told her to be ready, because she was going to dazzle many people with her body.

―Do you really think I'm beautiful? ―she asked with a smile, leaning coquettishly on the car.

―I'm not going to answer that question; I'm going to let you realize what you provoke with that little dress ―I said, and with great effort I turned my eyes away from her and climbed into the vehicle.

We went to the center of the city. The night, illuminated by numerous signs, began to unleash a crowd willing to enjoy it intensely. I remembered when Verónica and I danced until dawn, sometimes visiting up to three different places during the night. Then we went to a motel or a secluded place and we made love until we were exhausted with pleasure.

We arrived on Los Almendros Avenue. The paths, as always crowded with people, were allowed to be trampled by couples and groups that got lost in the different passages from where the music called with a bang. We drove a couple of blocks and spotted "El Cuervo", the place that had been our base of operations for some years. I looked at my wife, and saw a pleased smile come to her lips; she must have remembered the same thing as I did when we saw the classic sign with a black bird holding a jug of beer in its claws.

At the intersection with Calle Los Naranjos we were stopped by a red light. I looked at the passers-by who passed in front of our car, and I saw a girl standing in the corner, next to a mailbox. No doubt she was waiting for someone, since she was smoking a cigarette while looking toward the bus stop on the opposite corner. she was very attractive; She was wearing a miniskirt and a tight-fitting breastplate, and displayed the slenderness of her body in such a provocative way that she had a group of guys looking at her in a fascinated way.

Veronica realized that I was looking at her too. I could see it in her eyes when she put such pressure on me that I had to turn my face towards her.

―Do you like that girl? ―She asked me.

I did not answer; I was bewildered, she had never been jealous. I was going to ask her what she meant when she put her index finger on my lips and smiled at me; Immediately after that, she took from the seat a pamphlet that we had received some streets back and opened the door. He got out of the car and started walking towards the girl. Her wiggle was incredible, she looked like a panther in search of her prey. she approached the girl; I was intrigued, I wondered what she intended. She rose the pamphlet that she had in her hand, folded it just to the height of her breasts, leaned forward a moment, lifted her butt as I had never seen her done it in public, and deposited the steering wheel in the mailbox. At that moment I realized what she had done: the eyes of the men who looked at the miniskirt girl turned to my wife, as if they had discarded a prize of consolation to fix their eyes on the jackpot.

Veronica returned to the car in the same way she had gone to the mailbox. She had not deigned to look at those men, but in the smile she had as she approached, I could feel the security that she had of attracting the attention of any male who came across her curves. She got in the car, and I only got out of my stunning when I noticed the honks directed by the drivers behind me. "Move, idiot, you have big green light in front of you!", One of them shouted me.

I drove slowly. A little further on we came across a car that was leaving its parking lot. I stopped right behind so no one was ahead of me, and after a couple of maneuvers I took its place.

I turned off the engine, looked at Veronica and started to laugh. She did the same, and a moment later we were writhing with laughter.

―I can not believe what you just did ... ―I said, my voice choked with laughter. That poor girl could not do anything ...

―Not with those men, but what happened to you? ―she asked, trying to get serious and giving me a malicious look.

―I think you gave them that show on purpose ―I said, simulating jealousy.

―They were part of the show I gave you. ―And she changed the subject completely, while pointing out the alley crowded with people.

―What do you think if we walk along Paseo Quermez?

I was starting to like the situation. I liked what she had just done, and that knowing why she had done it, increased my interest, but I thought it would be much more pleasant to talk in bed.

―We could go to a more elegant place ―I replied.

―Please, I want us to remember our times as students ―and she looked like a spoiled child so I could not refuse. In truth, that night I could not deny anything to any of their faces.

Paseo Quermez is quite well known. In itself it is nothing more than an alley with varied entertainment facilities: restaurants, pubs, bars, and a couple of nightclubs. Many students spend their leisure time there, usually on weekends. It is quite economical and attractive, so it is not uncommon to see people from different social strata traversing it from one end to the other, while the waiters besiege it with various offers to try to fill their premises. The only bad thing is that there are some insistent ones that do not leave you alone until one or another: either you enter your premises or you tell them in a bad way to disappear. Luckily they are the least.

We arrived at the entrance of the place, in which you could only go on foot. The sidewalk was made of stone paving stones, and in the middle, preventing the transit of vehicles, there were tall trees that must have been older than me: oaks, orange trees and even pines formed a line that extended to the end of the alley. The facades shone with lights; It was evident that the owners had invested a lot of money in remodeling their premises. Some restaurants had been transformed into dancing bars or pubs, but in general they retained their names and architectural styles.

I took Veronica by her waist as we walked. At times we looked at each other and smiling; I do not know if she remembered the same thing that I did, but surely she remembered something; her look and her smile revealed her complicity with me. We decided to take a walk around the entire place before deciding to go to the best place. I returned my attention to how attractive she looked that night and how the men who passed looked at her. I noticed that the looks were different, depending on the men that were looking at her. Some of them were shamelessly looking at her cleavage, others were turning to contemplate the swaying of her backside, and some others just looked into her eyes and then fleetingly traversed her body. I played dumb, but she seemed to like it, because she did not take too long to walk as she had done it previously towards the mailbox. To me, the situation, more than to made me proud, was making me raise the temperature; the woman to whom all those idiots looked with the face of a ram in heat had already been mine many times... and would continue to be so. That thought was funny to me, and I smiled again.

What am I going to deny at this point? I got aroused... I was excited to see my wife in that light dress and walking like a cat in the middle of a crowd of guys who looked at her as degenerate; I even thought I saw a couple of girls who gave him similar glances. I pictured her in bed while I reproached her for having exposed herself as a libidinous woman (in my life I had thought of calling her a whore), and I could almost hear her voice telling me that she had done it for me, that she had turned on that troop of stupids so that I realized how they wanted her, "And now I'm here, so you can give me what I need," he said with his wet lips brushing mine. But that was only in my head; I got discouraged thinking that she would never act like that, she would not follow the game. if I reminded her the guys looking at her, I am totally sure she would not know what I was talking about, and after a while she would possibly say: "Ah ... those in the mailbox; it was just to give you a little lesson ", and that would be everything. I was happy again when it occurred to me that I would tell her what I had imagined and I would ask her to play, to act. Of course planned would not be the same as spontaneous, but "What the hell," I said to myself, "worse is nothing."

About ten meters before arriving at the restaurant "Druida", I noticed that one of the waiters in the street was also looking at my wife shamelessly. His face revealed the surprise of having that tremendous "monument" in that place. At first I thought it was funny, but the impudence with which he looked at her as we approached began to bother me. He was a stubby, short guy, he looked about forty years old, he seemed to be sweaty, and surely his sparse hair did not help him in order to get customers for his restaurant. I got the impression that Veronica had noticed the morbid looks that he was giving her, and yet she kept walking provocatively. I thought how strange that was; She seemed to like being looked at like that.

Suddenly the guy came forward and stood in front of us.

―Sir, lady, please allow us to serve you in our cozy place. We have very good food, and at ridiculous prices ―he said obsequiously, without taking his eyes off my wife's neckline.

I refused with a courteous "No, thank you", but he insisted. He stood in our way, almost licking Veronica with his eyes, as if he was unable to give up serving her. After a few minutes of kind words, with which I tried to get rid of him amicably, I got mad. I took Veronica by her hand to take her away from there, but I felt that she was reluctant to follow me.

―Maybe we could eat here ―she proposed, in front of the exorbitant eyes of the annoying waiter, and I noticed that his eyes flashed flirtatiously―. Also, I think it's remodeled. Do we enter?

What can I say?, that night she did what she wanted with me. I let him guide me to the place, while the obnoxious waiter walked beside her, enjoying the glorious view she offered him. We passed in front of the bar, and the guy led us to a table attached to the wall at the end of the bar, on the edge of a dance floor. We sat down, and the waiter brought us the menus. While we were reading them, he stood next to my wife, with his eyes fixed on her neckline. There were men in the restaurant who had seen her as passed, but they were more demure; This guy looked at her without any dissimulation, with all his dirty desires painted on his face. I do not know if it was because of the idiot that I did not like at all, or it was because of my impression that Veronica displayed an absolutely inexplicable sensuality in front of him, but the fact is that it was starting to make me angry to see her exposed in the eyes of that depraved person.

After a while we were served what we had asked, and the waiter took off to get more customers. Our conversation was quite entertaining, we relished remembering old times, but at times I noticed Veronica a little absent, as absorbed in thoughts or sensations that I could not glimpse. I told her that she had not lost any of her power over men; she laughed pleased, and I think that night she felt it more than ever.

We finished eating, and we stayed after dinner. Suddenly I told her I would go to the bathroom and then we would go home. The private bathroom was on the other side of the dance floor, which was full of people, so I tried to avoid the crowds. While I was washing my hands I just thought about taking Veronica home to unload all the "fever" that had caused me to see her walking on the street. And I must confess (much to my regret) that I knew that the degenerated look that the disgusting waiter had discharged would also be in my mind when we rolled around in bed. But how would I know that it would take much longer than I expected to enjoy her? God, and there is more!, How would I know that I would not be the only that would enjoy her that night?

I left the bathroom and, among the people who danced, I saw the waiter sitting with his back to the bar, looking at Veronica again. If you had seen that face, he looked like a movie villain enjoying the fantasies that were born from his dirty mind, and it was obvious that those fantasies had as protagonists the legs of my wife. Veronica did not look at him, and yet she let her dress rise higher than the middle of her thigh on her crossed legs, to the beginning of her garter belt; It seemed like she was showing it to that guy. My curiosity and my sexual excitement went beyond my will, and I was hidden among the people to see what happened. The waiter was still sitting watching her, and I thought that she knew he was stripping her naked just with his sight, but I let him do it. Her movements, as she did not know I was spying on her, were deliberately sensual: she threw back her shoulders to emphasize her impressive bust, and slid her hand over her legs, to the delight of that miserable one. I could even see that for a couple of seconds she had stared at the bulge that the waiter had under his pants. I could not take it anymore, this time the rage won, and I made my way through the dance floor until I reached our table.

As soon as I sat down, I rudely asked for the bill. Seeing me upset, he looked away from my wife and went to the cash register. Veronica looked at me; I know her very well, and believe me what I tell you: she was aroused, she could not hide it from me. And although it is hard to believe, it also aroused me. When the waiter came with the bill, I did not even check it, I just put my credit card on the tray, and I saw him going back to the box. I did not cross any word with Veronica; Now she knew that I was upset, just as I knew that she was aroused; But she seemed to take it as a game.

Two minutes later the waiter appeared and told me that my credit card was blocked, that it did not approve the amount.

―That can not be. Try again, and this time focus yourself, okay? ―I said in a derogatory way.

―I tried several times, and the device did not respond ―he answered, now in an unhelpful tone, very different from the one that belonged to any waiter, as if he were charging a delinquent debtor. I started to get angry, and I was going to put him in his place when I remembered that I did not bring the checkbook; I almost do not use it, I always use the credit card and the ATM. And the damn bad luck of that day, or the damn fate- i do not know-had arranged for that I did not even have any money on cash. I was bewildered for a few seconds, I suppose it has happened to all of us, we drowned in a glass of water. It bothers you that things do not go the way you planned and you lock yourself in without finding a solution, no matter how obvious it may be. That's how it happened to me, until it suddenly sprouted on its own.

―Then I'll go to an ATM and so that way I will pay in cash ―I said while I was getting up―. Come on, Veronica ―and I extended my hand to my wife.

The guy blocked my way.

―I will not let her out; Nothing guarantees that you will return ―he said in an almost insulting tone.

I offered to leave my documents under warranty, but that son of a bitch refused. We argued for a while, and started threatening to call the police. "I'm going to imprison you," said the idiot, as if he were dealing with a criminal. We were about to come to blows when Veronica interposed.

―Why do not you go alone and I stay, as a guarantee that you will come back to pay? ―she proposed. She sat back down and addressed the waitera―. You would not think that my husband is going to abandon me for an account, right? ―she said, crossing her legs. God, I had the impression again that she was playing with that slob. The guy was speechless, and I knew that it would not be an inconvenience. I also realized that it was the quickest solution to get out of that stupid mess I had gotten myself into.

―Are you sure? ―I asked.

―Of course, and return as soon as posible ―she said

I looked at the waiter, who made a gesture of acceptance and returned to sit with his back to the bar, to continue looking at my wife. I could not get out of my head that she liked to insinuate herself to the waiter, even though it was only to provoke me, but that made me angry anyways.

I went to the exit door, and when I passed in front of the cashier ―an old man with glasses that seemed to be nothing but skin and bones― was giving me a look full of suspicion; Maybe he was the owner or the administrator, or at least I got the impression that he thought I would leave without paying.

I left as fast as I could of the Quermez walk. I knew there was an ATM two blocks away, but when I arrived, I cursed my bad luck: a handwritten paper, stucked on the screen of the device, indicated that it was broken. The worst part was that I did not know where I could find another ATM near there. I asked some passing guys, and they told me to continue three blocks down the same street, so I could find a branch of the South American Bank. It took me five minutes to travel the three hundred meters, and I found a lot of people lining up for the dirty money. I had no choice but to join the line, I felt I was never moving, and the fourteen minutes that took me to get the money seemed like an eternity.

I flew back to the restaurant. Before entering I looked at my watch; More than half an hour had passed. But I was already there; I would pay the bill so I could get Veronica out of that den that I was sure she would never come back. I looked for her at the table where I had left her, and I almost had a heart attack: she was not there. And where was the damn waiter by the way? I scanned the whole place, and she was not there either. I looked everywhere, not knowing what to do. Finally, I went to the cash register, surely the old man who who was there could give me some indication about it. But there was only one waiter standing to one side, as if he stood guard. I was about to question him when a door opened behind the bar, and I saw that the old man was coming out of what looked like an office. When he saw me he gestured for me to wait, and he went back inside. He came after about three minutes, settled into the cash register and presented me the tray with the bill. I took out the money, I paid him, and then I went through the place thoroughly, determined to find Veronica. I even went to the women's bathroom. But she was not anywhere. I was completely alarmed, and I was about to go back to the cash register to demand that the old man tell me what had happened to her, but suddenly I saw her appear through the same door behind the bar.

I did not say anything, I took her by her hand and we went out into the street. I felt relief for having taken her out of there, but at the same time I was invaded by all kinds of doubts and suspicions. What was she doing in that office? I did not know, and I could not think of anything; I was furious, and I got worse when I noticed that she was breathing agitatedly, that her face was pale and that she had just touched up her makeup. God, it seemed to be in a nightmare.

We got in the car, I started it and we finaly left the place. I drove a while with my eyes fixed on the pavement in front of me. She did not say a word, and she did not even look at me. Finally I could not take it anymore and stopped the vehicle on a lonely street.

―What the hell were you doing in that office? ―I asked, not hiding my anger.

Veronica looked at me and looked down; She seemed confused, and even helpless. I was about to explode, when suddenly I saw that a strange change was taking place in her. She had fallen into a kind of trance, and began to speak in a monotonous but clear voice, while keeping her eyes open but her gaze lost, as if she was mentally seeing what she was describing.

"As soon as you left, the waiter told me that they needed the table and that I could wait in the owner's office. I accepted... I followed him behind the bar and entered the office from which you saw me leave. There was a desk, a couple of chairs and an armchair against the wall. I sat on the couch, I thought the man would go back to work, but he stayed leaning on the desk. He looked at me the same as before, but now there was no one else, and I got nervous... He ran his hand through my neckline, my legs... and began to say that what we had done was very wrong, that if he had wanted he would have imprisoned both of us. I knew that it was stupid, but the tone in which he said it was frightening... I did not say anything, I was just listening while he was saying that I should be grateful that he had let you go find the money without calling the police.

I did not know what to say. I felt that my fears were about to be confirmed.

"Suddenly he change the subject," Veronica continued. "He told me how good I looked with this dress, that I was a gorgeous woman and that he thought I was very sensual from the first time he saw me. He told me that it was a pleasure to see me walking, and that pleasure would be even greater if I did it there, in the office, and he offered me a hand to help me to get up. I felt confused, I was flattered by his words, but I doubted his intentions, I could not react due to my nerves. But I decided to stand up and take a few steps around the room. "

I looked at her without being able to believe what I was hearing; she just looked at her hands, which were over her legs. I was furious; My wife had modeled that guy, that son of a bitch with whom I had almost come to blows. But I was getting even more angry because her story was starting to aroused me. I stared through the windshield while I continued listening.

"I was a little scared," my wife continued, "I walked the best way I could, the way I might like it, I just wanted him to stay there looking at me, leaning on the desk." I felt admired, desired by that man, I liked to show myself, and without knowing how I decided to play, I began to walk sensually, while his eyes burned me -to my astonishment, Veronica was speaking without the slightest hint of shame-, so I began to wiggle closer and closer to him, almost touching him. every turn, I liked to see him devouring my neck with his eyes, I felt more wished than ever ... Suddenly he stretched out a hand and left a strap of the dress hanging from my arm ... I did not do anything, I kept walking, and when I went back he pulled the other strap off my shoulder, and the dress was wrapped around my hips, I tried to raise it, but he was faster, he held my hands and whispered in my ear, " Please keep walking. " I let go of the dress, that slipped to the floor, I was only in my underwear, the clothes that I was wearing for you. "

When she said that, she gave me a neutral look, as if I was not talking to me, but to a copy of myself that had taken a place in her head. I felt a terrible jealousy, and at the same time a tremendous erection.

"You were the only one who had seen me with this set of underwear, and now that guy was doing it as well... But I kept walking. I do not want to lie to you Daniel, I kept walking, more proud and sensual than before. That idiot had never seen a body like mine in all his life, and his disrespectful gaze burned my skin. I felt so desired and exposed, that I was completely out of control. Despite this, I continued, I did not mind to show my ass almost naked to that degenerate".

I did not find words to express what I felt, or rather I kept quiet, because if I opened my mouth to say somethng, it would only be to insult her. Besides, I did not want her to notice the bulge that had grown under my pants. I did not dare to look at her, but I think my silence encouraged her to keep talking.

"After looking at me without saying a word, the waiter picked up the dress, went to the door and opened it. I got scared and hid in a corner, so that nobody from outside would see me. I thought he would leave the office, but he just peeked out and said a few words that I did not understand. He went back inside, and after that, the guy who was in the cash register came in, that old man with glasses you paid him for. They closed the door, and the old man's face lit up when he saw me almost naked. "Keep walking," said the waiter... And I obeyed. The degenerate looks had doubled, and I felt dirty; now it was not just a disgusting guy who enjoyed looking at me, but two, and one of them could be my father... The old man's smile was an anxious and disgusting grimace. "Did not I tell you, Don Pancho, that she was hot?" The waiter commented. "

―And you let that pair of bastards get aroused because of you! ―I finally burst, but I realized I was aroused. At the same time, in order to get away from my accusing eyes she lowered his head, and then she saw the erection that bulged my pants. I was ashamed; If I was aroused, how could I reproach her for the same thing? I looked stiffly towards the street, and suddenly I felt that she was leaning a hand on my leg and then she slid it to gently caress my cock over my pants. While doing so she rested her head on my shoulder and continued telling me more about what happened.

"The old man got in my way, he told me that you had left me there to pay the bill... and they laughed... Then he put his hands on my waist; I took a step back but he followed me; I tried to give another one but I ran into the desk, and that wretch took me by the hips. I asked him to get away, but he ignored me, his hands went down to my butt, and began to fondle it to his liking. He asked your name... I told him that your name was Daniel. "last name?," he insisted, squeezing my buttocks. "Daniel Montenegro," I replied, and I asked him again to please let me go... "What a firm ass you have, Mrs. Montenegro," he told me, getting closer. "

Veronica clung to me, her lips ran over my ear, her breathing was panting, and the massage in my package was getting stronger and stronger. I was still struggling between my arousal and the anger that was flooding me.

―That old man touched you? ―I said, and my voice sounded like a tormented moan.

―Yes, Daniel, he touched me. He did not care when I said no; he squeezed my buttocks, he licked the neckline of my bra ... And I did not push him ... I just asked him to move away, but I did nothing to get rid of it ... I felt dirty, Daniel ... I felt helpless, a dirty helpless whore!

She had never said that kind of words. It amazed me that she referred to herself as a whore. And I liked it too; She looked like another woman: rude, hot; but at the same time shy and demure, trying to defend herself by assuring that she had said no. The embarrassed tones of her story, mixed with her arousal, revealed the shame he felt at what had happened to him. I just kept listening.

"The waiter told me that you were a damn cheater, and that he was going to get even with his wife's whore. He grabbed my hair and stuck his nasty tongue in my mouth; his hands were lost under my underwear ... "The bitch is wet, Don Pancho," he said, while he put a couple of fingers in my crotch ... The old man took my tits out to suck them like a baby ... I asked them to stop, Daniel, but they did not listen to me. " Her breathing became more agitated, and she took out my cock to start masturbating it slowly. "They took me to the couch ... I asked them to leave me alone, but they kept fingering me and insulting me ... They called me a bitch, and they realized that I could not resist enough ... they pushed me and fell backwards on the couch, the waiter pulled my pantie off with a jerk, and said he would leave me the stockings and the garter belt, because that way I looked like a bitch ... The old man pulled my bra down to my waist and kept playing with my tits ... The fat guy opened my legs with his own body, forced me to open them as much as possible ... He insulted me and put his disgusting fingers in my vagina, he said I was a filthy bitch ... He said he was going to put his whole hand, I could not see, but I felt his violent attacks ... "Veronica's arousal grew, so she tightened my cock harder, and she started to masturbated it more quickly. "I groaned, Daniel, I was getting aroused by his touchings and I started enjoying them ... I stopped fighting with my legs and opened them for him ... for that dirty man who was abusing me ... The old man showed me his cock, It was flaccid but enormous ... "Suck Don Pancho's dick, bitch," he said, and he put it in my mouth ... The old man's sweat was delicious, Daniel ... I felt how he was hardening his dick little by little , and I sucked it with cravings, like a real bitch.

I did not know what to do, it was too much for me. The rage wanted to turn into violence, but I was too hot, her story and the way she was telling it made her massage in my cock gave me an unexplainable pleasure, I had never been as hot as I was in my whole life.

"I took it with both hands and I desperately sucked it..." Veronica continued. "it was getting harder and bigger, and the old man was touching my tits while he was fucking my mouth..." Suck it, bitch, suck the dick of your oldy man ", he insulted me while moaning... it was delicious, Daniel, I did not want to take it out of my mouth... I was hungry for his cock... I want to suck your dick as well, Daniel, I want to show you how I sucked that cock!" She stopped talking and dropped into my dick, which was erected, and she started to suck it as she never had. Her moist, warm mouth devoured me, her tongue seemed a swirl going through my cock and my balls.

―You like to suck, huh? bitch... You sucked another dick and you liked it, fucking bitch! ―I said, although with some fear; I had never called her a whore. But I realized that she liked it, because she sucked it more eagerly.

"Yes, I liked it... I felt it hard, and sometimes it spilled spurts of cum... I swallowed everything, and I sucked it with more hunger... Suddenly he took it out of my mouth, stepped aside, and then the waiter grabbed my legs and put them on his shoulders... I resisted... but it was useless, he penetrated me. I rested a hand on his belly to try to push him ... but it was useless ... I was still moaning with pleasure for having sucked the old man's cock, and that seemed to warm him more, because he was fucking me with rage ... I was writhing of pain and arousal ... My hand stopped pushing him in order to caress his hairy belly that hit my legs with every thrust ... That idiot raped me Daniel, he fucked me so hard... and he enjoyed fucking me ... He enjoyed fucking your wife! "

―And you also enjoyed, damn bitch! ―I said, while I raised her dress to her waist; her underwear looked amazing―. Keep sucking, bitch! ―I slapped her on the buttocks as I insulted her like the whore she was. ―So you like all the dicks, right? Anyone can enjoy you as it pleases, because you're just a bitch... a fucking bitch!"

"The old man wanted to fuck me as well, Daniel," he continued moaning. "He ordered the waiter to move away and sit on the couch, then he took my hair, and put me on all fours and forced me to suck the black cock..." "she suck it so good, Don Pancho, she is like a luxury whore " said that bastard, while I was savoring his dick. It was less juicy than the other, but it swelled a lot in the head every time the guy put it in my mouth. " Where was the woman who was ashamed to say "penis"? I thought in the middle of my mental maelstrom. "The waiter squeezed my tits and the old man was touching my legs and my ass ... I lifted my ass so he could know that I wanted to go beyond... and I stopped sucking the waiter's dick to say:" Put it to me, Don Pancho, to the bottom". They both laughed and insulted me again ... They told me I was a hot bitch ... and that's why they were going to fuck me like a dirty bitch ".

―You lifted your ass? ―I shouted―. Come on, bitch, show me how you did it! ―She knelt in her seat and started shaking her ass while she was sucking my dick. At that time there was no one on the street, so it was very unlikely that anyone would see that ass, wiggling, but she did not know it; she simply exhibited it, as if there were many eyes watching her.

"The old man put his penis in me... it felt so big and hard, Daniel... He literally destroyed me... I could barely suck the waiter's dick because of the moans of pain that tore me and the arousal that was burning me... The old man was slapping me in the ass while the waiter continued to insult me, he liked my expression of arousal while I was sucking his dick... And that shitty old man fucked me without mercy... but it was delicious! "

I imagined her receiving the onslaught of that old man while I sucked the damned waiter's dick, and the image I got in my head aroused me incredibly. That pair of idiots had never touched or even thought about touching a woman as beautiful as mine, and that woman had given herself to them without restrictions. She said that she had opposed some resistance, but if it was true, it had only served to incite them to treat her with greater brutality.

―Go on, bitch, suck... suck! ... suuuuuuuuck! ―I kept telling him, while hitting his ass again―. You're going to swallow all my cum, just like you swallowed theirs! ―She had never allowed me to cum in her mouth, and now she did not say anything; she seemed to experience an orgasm every moment, to be possessed by a delirium of nymphomania.

Suddenly, I do not know how, I realized that a bum was coming, surely to ask for money. My first thought was to start the car and drive at full speed from there, but the morbid could more.

The guy was going to cross in front of the car, but when he noticed Veronica's ass, lifted and wiggling on the right-hand seat, he stopped suddenly, as if trying to convince himself that he was not seeing visions, and went to look what was happening inside the vehicle. Dazzled by the ass of my wife, he moved forward until almost sticking to the window, to see how she was sucking my dick.

―There's a bum looking at your ass out there, bitch ―I said to Veronica. She just kept sucking me―. Shake the ass you have to sexually arouse that poor guy. ―And I gave her a strong spank that seemed to rekindle her arousal. With both my hands I began to open her buttocks so that the bum one could see the thread of her underwear enclosed between them. ―Go on, shake it, show him the bitch you are!

The homeless man crushed his face against the glass and he stayed there, with his eyes bulging. He was a mix of rags and filth, and you could tell he was drunk.

―Fucking bitch, you like to excite even the dogs on the street ―I said out of me―. Move your ass and provoke him so he could try to break the glass and get in to fuck that cute ass you have. ―And she shook it even more to the delight of that unhappy guy, while I continued insulting her.

The bum took out his cock and began to masturbate. Amazed by the spectacle, he began to lick the glass as if it were my wife's ass.

―He took out his cock, bitch, took out his grubby cock to jerk off looking at your ass and the cunt you have ―I said, as he showed the bum how I was hitting her ass.

―Let him in ―she said suddenly, while she was fiercely rubbing my throbbing cock―. Let him in so he can fuck me... It does not matter if he is a dirty bum... Let me suck his dick... Aaayyyy... and swallow all of his cum... Aaahhh... Let him suck my tits... let him fuck my ass...!

If that bitch wanted it, I was going to get it to her I thought derangedly. I lowered the window glass, and the dirty man's hands entered like boliders to touch my wife's ass. Veronica shuddered when she felt them, looked back, and when she saw that unclean man touching her buttocks, she tried to move away.

―No, Daniel... please... do not let him hurt me ―she said in a pleading voice, while I held her head against my legs to keep her ass lifted. She had believed that I would not allow him touch her. But I was not me anymore, and Veronica was not herself either, because she could have freed herself, she could have struggled to get away from those disgusting hands; but her burning body contradicted her plaintive requests.

―Look at that butt, bitch, and that legs ―said the bum with a raspy voice. His grimy hands ran over my wife's legs and ass, contrasting with the smoothness of her skin. Suddenly he poked his head through the window to suck her pussy; I could see his tongue coming and going as he pleased between my wife's buttocks.

Veronica's pleas were turning into excited babblings. Her body began to follow the movements of the fingers that invaded her anus and the movements of the tongue that ran through her vagina. And she went back to suck my dick wildly.

I had reached the climax, and I could not take it anymore. I was seized by strong convulsions for every spurt of semen that emptied into my wife's throat. I had never had such a wild orgasm. Her moans were diminishing, but she never tried to move away; she devoured to the last drop of cum, and after that she continued moaning like mad at the penetration of her ass and vagina, perpetrated by that destitute. She also experienced a tremendous orgasm, her face glowed with pleasure, my cum dripped from the corners of her mouth. She was about to fall unconscious from the voltage of her own ecstasy.

The bum, seeing her completely at his mercy, withdrew from the window and tried to open the door, probably to get into the car or get Veronica out of it. But my orgasm had already made me recover my sanity: so I started the engine, pressed the shift lever and accelerated to the bottom. I almost tore the hand of that bum.

―Cunt bitch, I'm going to find you and I'm going to fuck you! ―I heard him scream before turning at the next corner.

I drove to my mother-in-law's house. Veronica sat up in her seat, and while trying to regain control of herself, we both fell silent. The empty streets induced us to continue like this, without saying anything.

Suddenly Veronica began to speak, as if she returned into her mental images once again.

"The waiter ejaculated in my face, and the old man inside of me... Then they let me alone, and I went to clean myself and dress in the office bathroom... When I came back, the waiter was sitting on the couch, and indicated me with a gesture that I could sit next to him. He tried to kiss me, and I turned my face away; then he pushed me and pulled my dress up; I remained with my back to him and my butt uncovered. I tried to straighten myself but he stopped me; I asked him not to continue, and he told me: "Whores always want more." He touched my buttocks again, so abruptly that brought me a moan of pain; the old man told me that I could not refuse to anything , that as long as you did not return, the guarantee that you had given to them was still theirs ... And when I felt so unable to prevent them from doing what they wanted with me, I thought they were right ... The waiter said he wanted to try my ass; I begged him not, that if he wanted to, I would suck his dick but I would not put it in there. He said he had already put it in my mouth, and now he wanted to know how it felt to put it my ass... I resisted, but the old man immobilized me, and my resistance was as useless as before. The waiter lubricated a finger on my pussy and then he started introducing it into my ass. I moaned in pain, but they said that I would like it, and suddenly, without knowing how, I began to moan with pleasure. That finger in my ass felt so good, and I started to move rhythmically; I lifted my ass so he could fingering me in a better way and I squeezed my anus to feel it harder. They called me fucking whore, fat ass, devourer of dicks... They also made fun of you... "You have to see this whore, she likes that we fuck her ass," they said to each other. I liked the strong blows on my buttocks, they hurt me but they made me feel more mistreated, more abused... Suddenly the old man told the other that he was going to see how things were going outside, he went to the door, opened it and then he went back. "The cuckold arrived," he told the waiter, "you have to return his whore in good conditions." The waiter let me go, and with his cock still erected, he told me to go to the bathroom again to clean up myself. So I did, and before I went looking for you, he said: "Come back soon so we can fuck you again."

That's where Veronica's story ended; There was not anything to say. The experience that night had changed my life, and she knew that I had no right to reproach her for anything, because she had excited me with everything that they had been done to her. And yet, she seemed embarrassed. I thought maybe the story of the restaurant was false, that her intention had only been to provoke me. I did not know, the conjectures came and went through my mind while driving. The anger was gone, but not the arousal, and that increased my confusion. What happened had made me know an aspect of me and my wife that I completely ignored, an aspect that my moral conscience rejected almost with horror. I looked at Veronica and the anger returned, and out of the rage, it emerged the arousal. It was like a circular automatism, incredibly morbid.

We arrived at my mother-in-law's house well after midnight. She was on the first floor comforting Tomas, and we asked him what had happened. She told us that our kid had had a nightmare and that she had brought him a glass of milk because he could not calm down. He cried a non-stop, he seemed scared, and did he not even calm down in his mother's arms. We went to the kitchen, and Gladys poured him a glass of warm milk.

―Where are Tomas' stuff, Mum? ―Veronica asked.

―On the dresser, in my bedroom.

―I'm going to get them ―she said, and left the kitchen.

Gladys asked me if we had had a good time. I answered that we had, that the food had been good and that there were many people. The conversation did not go further, because Tomás was still afflicted, and we dedicated ourselves to comfort him. I was not too worried about my son, since those fits of fear were not uncommon in him. Gladys told him a funny story to get a smile out of her, but it was hard enough to do it.

Immersed in my thoughts and attentive to the story of Gladys, I did not notice how long ago Veronica had gone up to get Thomas' stuff. When my mother-in-law saw her grandson more calm, she asked me more in details about that night. I answered vaguely, until suddenly I was surprised Veronica delayed so much, and I told Gladys. She did not care, she told me that maybe she had gone to the bathroom, or that she was looking for some lost toys from Tomás; It reminded me that our son noticed the lack of even the smallest toy. That reassured me a little, and I thought it was stupid to worry about her after what had happened, and that we were now safe in my mother-in-law's house. Then a word flashed in my head: "Ramón!", And at the same time I shouted "Shit!" I do not know what face I put on, but Gladys got scared, and asked me if I was fine. I did not answer him; In my mind there were too many suspicions to think of an answer. According to my calculations we had arrived at 12:40, and now the kitchen clock read 1:15; I could not believe that time had passed so quickly. It had been more than half an hour since my wife was upstairs, and perhaps in the same room where her bastard stepfather was sleeping. I got up to go and look for her, when she burst into the kitchen.

Her face left no doubt: She had something to tell me.

END OF CHAPTER 1.