My wife’s friend fucked my wife in front of me

Hello friends, my name is Kishan and I’m here to share my story with you. This happened two years ago. Back then, I was very naive and innocent. I didn’t know much about the world. I had no idea what “sexual intercourse” or “anal sex” meant. When I saw a boy and a girl holding hands, I thought they were siblings who were celebrating Raksha Bandhan. But friends, I was completely unaware that girls who walked hand-in-hand with boys in markets, bazaars, and parks were actually engaging in intimate acts with them in private rooms. I had always seen girls smiling and laughing, but I was oblivious to their other side.

When my friends talked about sex, I would blush and feel embarrassed. When they showed me pictures of couples, I pretended not to see them. Besides, I was a very timid person. If any boy dared to say something to me, I wouldn’t respond; I would just run away. Gradually, my image became that of a scared and cowardly boy. All my friends used to say, “Kishan, when you get married, you won’t be able to handle your wife. Someone else will have to take care of her. He can’t even fight! How will Kishan ever satisfy his wife?” Slowly but surely, I became a fearful and timid man.

Deep down, I was terrified of sex. I had read in some books that engaging in sexual activity made men weak. When a woman came around, a man’s penis wouldn’t stand up. Because of this fear, I never tried to have sex or even learn about it. This fear of sex grew within me, becoming an obsession. Whenever a girl talked to me or tried to get close, I would panic and run away. Gradually, my friends started calling me “sexually phobic.”

A few months later, I got married. My wife’s name was Sanjana.

Interestingly, my wife was much bolder and stronger than me. While I was a skinny 50 kg man, she was a robust 80 kg woman. When our wedding night arrived, Sanjana quickly took off her clothes and lay on the bed. Following tradition, she even offered me saffron-infused milk.

“What’s wrong?” Sanjana asked in a sweet voice. “I don’t know how to have sex,” I stammered, filled with fear.

“Don’t worry! It’s not difficult at all. I’ll teach you!” she said confidently. I took off my clothes and sat beside her. She started touching my penis and trying to make it erect. Half an hour passed, but my penis remained limp.

“Come on, stand up! Stand up, for God’s sake!” I thought desperately. But my manhood was stubbornly refusing to cooperate.

“Don’t worry, I’ll suck it until it stands up,” Sanjana said reassuringly. She began sucking on my penis while I prayed silently for it to become erect. But it remained flaccid.

Sanjana became increasingly disappointed. She realized that something was wrong with me. She hoped that the next day would be better, but it wasn’t. Sanjana grew anxious and started confiding in my sisters-in-law, who teased her about our intimate life. She avoided telling them the truth about my impotence. After a month, she went back to her parents’ house. Every night, she would lie naked with her legs spread open, but I couldn’t touch her. Friends, I was consumed by shame and started drinking heavily.

Two months later, Sanjana returned home. We spent our days happily together, but at night, a wall seemed to separate us. Sanjana would turn away from me and sleep with her back to me. I felt immense regret. If only I had listened to my friends’ stories about sex, learned how to be intimate, and overcome my fear!

I was now contemplating suicide. I had a beautiful young wife, but I couldn’t satisfy her. One day, Sanjana asked for 10,000 rupees, saying she needed to go shopping. I gave her my ATM card. That night, at 10 pm, she returned home.

“Sanjana, where were you?” I asked.

“I went shopping, as I told you,” she replied.

“But you left at 10 am! Where were you for so long?” I questioned.

“It’s none of your business!” she snapped and went inside to change her clothes.

Over the next month, Sanjana started going out frequently, spending thousands of rupees each time. She had spent a total of 60,000 rupees by then. My heart sank. I was devastated. I had been thinking about suicide before, but now I felt utterly defeated. I suspected something was wrong with Sanjana.

One day, she went to the bathroom and talked on her phone for hours. Driven by suspicion, I secretly checked her call history.

“Hello darling! How are you? Tell me more about your husband. When will you finally sleep with me again? Your husband’s penis has been craving my pussy for ages!” a man’s voice boomed from the phone.

My blood ran cold. My wife was having an affair with another man! I checked her gallery and found pictures of her engaging in explicit acts with him, including oral sex and anal intercourse.

I confronted Sanjana, showing her the photos.

“Sanjana, what is this? Who is this man? How could you do this to me?” I shouted, my anger boiling over. I slapped her. She grabbed my hand and stared at me with cold, menacing eyes.

“Listen, Kishan! I have been sleeping with him, and I will continue to do so every week because you are a coward!” she spat.

I was shocked and humiliated. My wife, the woman I loved, was calling me names and threatening me. Driven by rage, I beat her mercilessly.

A week later, Sanjana’s lover confronted me in the market with fifteen of his friends. They surrounded me and beat me brutally.

“You impotent fool! You can’t even satisfy your own wife, yet you dare to hit her!” he yelled. “I will kill you!” He then fled with his gang when the police arrived. When I returned home, everyone asked what had happened. I lied and said it was an accident.

Now, I lived in constant fear of Sanjana. After beating me, she seemed even more emboldened. She openly talked to her lover on the phone in front of me, laughing and flirting. One day, I saw them together in a park. They were kissing passionately. He then took her into a tree’s shade and began raping her. Tears streamed down my face as I watched this scene unfold. It was all my fault.

That night, Sanjana returned home. My mother asked her where she had been all day.

“I went to the temple,” she replied casually. But I knew the truth. Sanjana’s fear of me had vanished. She started meeting her lover openly.

One night, at midnight, Sanjana brought her lover into my bedroom while everyone else was asleep. “What is going on?” I cried out in anger.

“I’m tired of hiding,” she said defiantly. “From now on, he will come every night at 12 and sleep with me. If you object, I will tell everyone that you are impotent!”

That night, Sanjana’s lover raped her six times while I sat there helplessly, watching the humiliation unfold. Now, seven months have passed. Sanjana is pregnant with his child. My family congratulates me on becoming a father. But friends, what should I do?