She Is a 10
Copyright© 2026 by RogueTen
Chapter 5
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 5 - A saintly yoga wife, her burned-out "nice guy" husband, and a creepy basement janitor slip into one messed-up loop of lust, guilt and voyeurism. This isn’t about cheating, it’s about something worse: when you suddenly realize it turns you on to see your perfect little world get dragged through the mud – and you don’t want it to stop.
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Consensual Drunk/Drugged NonConsensual Romantic BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Cheating Cuckold Sharing Slut Wife Wife Watching Wimp Husband RAAC DomSub Humiliation Light Bond Rough Spanking Gang Bang Group Sex Orgy Swinging Interracial Black Male White Male White Female Oriental Male White Couple Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism Facial Fisting Masturbation Oral Sex Spitting Squirting Voyeurism Public Sex Prostitution
You step out and hide behind the doorjamb, listening. Just as you thought, your absence is taken by the lecherous old man as his chance.
“Daughter, do you really not remember anything, or did you just not want to say it in front of your husband?” he bleats nastily. Annette grows wary.
“What do you mean? Yesterday there was something I should hide from my husband? I hope you and I didn’t...”
“Exactly!” the satisfied janitor answers. You lean out to see his shining mug.
“My God, I can’t believe it,” Annette says, covering her face with her hand in shame. “How could I? Yuri was home! He could have seen! I hope we used protection?!”
“Yuri was in the shower. And no, we didn’t — there wasn’t time for that,” the old man says benevolently.
Your wife gasps.
“The last thing I need is to get pregnant with your child!”
“And what’s so bad about having my children?” the old man frowns.
“That I’m married. And I should have children by my husband,” your beauty says firmly. “So I guess I need to go get pills today.”
“Honestly, I just wanted to say thank you. It was fantastic.”
“I can’t say the same,” Annette says, displeased. “I don’t remember anything. Maybe there was nothing at all — I’d rather think there was nothing. Got drunk, cheated on my husband ... what am I doing...”
You like the notes of remorse in your wife’s words. It’s the same Annette — your Annette! Yes, there are blatant contradictions in her soul, but contradictions in human souls are constant. And the stronger, the more alive a soul is — the stronger the contradiction!
... And then the old man cuts off your newborn joy: he stands up and drops his pants and underwear!!! Grabs his already-hard cock!
“What are you doing?!” your wife protests. But there’s something in her voice ... as if it isn’t real outrage, but a parody of it. As if Annette is saying only what she’s supposed to say, while inside she feels and thinks something else. For instance ... purely as an example ... she might be hypnotized by an erect, huge foreign penis...
“I just thought, daughter — so you don’t forget anything — you could take a picture,” Omar says, jerking his huge cock. His balls wobble in the air with the movement of his hand.
“Take a picture of what?!” Annette stares, shocked along with you. “YOUR COCK?!”
“Yeah. It seemed to me you really like it.”
“What nonsense! Who do you think you are?!”
And again: your wife’s words aren’t a firm refusal. You know Annette — if she wanted to, she could nail the old man to his chair with a single word, and with that same word make him tuck his cock back into his underwear. But she doesn’t. No. Annette sits there in front of him ... you’re afraid of the comparison, but like an adoring fan in front of a star. All her “no”s are worth nothing. Omar feels it. You feel it.
“Why nonsense, daughter? You said it yourself: ‘So big! What a cock!’”
You tremble at quotes from Annette’s mouth. Words she will never say about your cock. Words she’s already said to another man — clearly admiring the difference between his and the familiar one, yours.
“Stop!” Annette cuts him off. “Don’t ... repeat my words! I know what I said!”
Your beloved blushes thickly. You see how, under the table, she clamps her legs together and grips the hem of her dress, tense.
“Bitch,” you think involuntarily, getting hard. The slut in your proud wife begins to glint again, like gold, and your cock hardens from it.
“Why are you shy, daughter? Come on, film it on your phone,” Omar says, jerking confidently. His big cock sticks up above the table like a tank barrel. His big belly, utterly unsexy, doesn’t stop that cock from shining with beauty and masculinity. Omar can sink lower, age, get fatter — but that piece of male equipment, granted by nature, will always be his secret weapon for attracting females.
You bite your lip until it hurts. Yesterday Annette was drunk. Yesterday you could explain a lot. But today ... today she should be outraged and throw the brazen old immigrant out! At the very least call you, so you drag him by the ear down to the basement and lock him there like a pig in a pen!
But no. Unexpectedly Annette ... goes silent.
And that silence makes you start to shake. You see her staring straight at his cock.
Then at Omar’s face.
Then back at the cock.
How her toes curl and uncurl nervously.
And then your beloved slowly takes her phone and points it at Omar’s cock.
“There we go, good girl,” he says brightly. “Not bad for Grandpa, huh? Better than the young ones — they don’t make them like this anymore!”
Annette can’t help it; she gives a nervous smile at the janitor’s braggadocio.
She looks at the phone screen. Your wife has switched on video. And she clearly wants nothing interesting to slip out of frame!
Your hands start trembling. If drunken Annette were filming a stranger’s cock, you could blame it on alcohol. But now, what do you blame it on?!
“Gods, my love, I’m in the next room — what are you doing?!” you whimper inside yourself.
And your cock is in ecstasy.
A faithful wife never affected it like this ... you slide your hand into your underwear and start to pleasure yourself. You flinch, involuntarily, from several flashes of pleasure at once across your whole body. Your cock has been needing your hand badly.
And Annette starts to drift away from the phone. It’s still filming while she looks at the huge cock live.
“You like it, daughter?” Omar asks.
“Just ... keep going,” she says, forcing it out — and corrects herself at once. “I mean, finish!”
“To finish faster, I need help,” he says meaningfully. “Show me your little tongue, daughter.”
“W-what?”
Annette is clearly disoriented.
“Show Daddy your tongue.”
Now outrage floods you. “Daddy”?! Who does this old devil think he is! You’re sure your proud wife will scold him now, but she looks at him for a long, unreadable moment, and then ... sticks out her tongue.
Not just the tip. Annette pushes her tongue out the way porn actresses do when they’re expecting a man to spill into their mouth. You’re furious. And so is your cock, which starts twitching. Where’s the justice?! So, some filthy janitor is “Daddy” to your wife now, and who are you? A bag of money?!
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