Chapter 1 — The Confession of a Three-Way Affair

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. All characters are adults aged 18 or over.

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The way Sarah—so gentle, so innocent, raised only within the confines of family and duty—faced her own sexual desire with such quiet courage,
overcoming the shame and awkwardness that made her hesitate,
asking me questions, listening to my thoughts, accepting my words—
she looked so beautiful to me, so admirable.

With swinging or three-ways, the most important thing is discretion.

What do you think the greatest strength of the internet is, madam?
It's none other than absolute anonymity.

I haven't actually been online for very long myself,
but whenever I've peeked into hobbyist communities,
I've seen people enjoying themselves, participating freely based on their own tastes and preferences—
without ever needing to reveal who they truly are, without demanding personal details from others.

You once said I seem like someone who lives freely, enjoying both sex and life.
But I believe life itself is inherently lonely for everyone.
To overcome that loneliness, we pursue hobbies, build various relationships,
and perhaps swinging or three-ways are just desperate struggles to escape solitude—
sharing our primal loneliness with others, experiencing the joy and ecstasy of sex together.
The intense physical pleasure of sex is merely a bonus we receive.

I prefer married women over single ones.
I love the boldness of a wife,
the lewd charm of a woman cheating on her husband who pours out her dissatisfaction with their hollow sex life into my arms.
I love the sight of a married woman greedily sucking another man's cock down to the root,
her body convulsing with ecstasy as she moans and cries out.
I love taking another man's wife, watching her spread her flower and take my cock deep inside,
her hips thrashing wildly as she rides me.

Without that thrilling edge of infidelity, without the bittersweet ache that follows,
the peak wouldn't mean anything. It would be empty.

Perhaps every married woman secretly dreams of adultery.
Maybe they live their lives fantasizing,
enjoying the hidden tremors of suppressed desire within their bodies.

Maybe every woman in this world carries the filthy, seductive nature of the queen in the French novelist's play—
who lures passing men into one night of pleasure, then has them stuffed into a sack and thrown into the Seine.
It's just that this lewd nature is hidden beneath a coat called "rationality,"
and their inner whore is disguised by the morality and ethics we humans have imposed—
all to conceal their shame.

If so, I confidently call this so-called rationality nothing but the arrogant lie of weak humans hiding themselves.

Understanding and loving your spouse might be deepened through the experience of others.

Imagine sucking another man's cock while your husband watches,
or spreading your pussy for a stranger to lick while your husband stands by,
your body trembling with sexual ecstasy.
Logically, it's hard to accept.

But if you wrap those feelings in compassion, in love and understanding,
a higher realm of bliss awaits you.

That's how it was for me.

This emotion—this sensation—might just be the pleasure of a three-way.

Back in college, I was interested in literature and writing.
I even submitted work to literary journals and newspaper contests.
But reality steered my life in a slightly different direction.

Sex outside normal boundaries—like swinging or three-ways—
can provoke jealousy in your partner.
And that jealousy, that anger, intensifies sexual pleasure and stimulation to the extreme,
elevating it into a sadistic kind of satisfaction.

When another man's wife sucks my cock,
when I plunge my thick shaft deep into another man's wife's cunt,
when I lick the wet, glistening arousal pooled in another woman's slit—
or when I see a woman, her face flushed with excitement, sucking another man's cock to the root while glancing at her husband—
doesn't a strange, illicit thrill surge through you?

I see no difference between three-ways or swinging and eating delicious food.
It's only a matter of what you eat, how you eat it, and in what manner.

There is a commonality among people who do three-ways or swinging.
Of course, not everyone fits this, but many do.

First, both spouses genuinely enjoy sex and are open about it.
Second, they only engage sexually with someone the other has approved.
Third, they aren't reckless—they care for and love each other.

In fact, their bond is often stronger, more affectionate, than that of ordinary couples.

Ah, let me tell you about my experience last weekend.

The couple I briefly mentioned in my last email—we'd exchanged many messages and phone calls,
and I felt a solid sense of trust and security with them.

I'll write you the full account of what happened.

Forgive me for being explicit.

The husband was 39, the wife 36—three years younger.
They've been married ten years this year.

I'd already built a rapport with the husband through emails and calls.
He seemed reluctant to talk about his family life,
so I won't go into details—only that their situation was similar to yours.

The wife had agreed, more or less, after being persuaded and encouraged by her husband.
He'd asked her, "Wouldn't you like to try being with another man, just once, together?"
She'd questioned him thoroughly, checked my photos and information,
and after a day of silence, gave her quiet consent.

When I met her in person, she was even more attractive than her photos—
a vibrant woman in her thirties, with fuller breasts than I'd imagined,
her body radiating the rich, sensual maturity of a woman who's lived.

That day, I called the husband again to confirm.
Truthfully, I was more worried about the wife.

Could she really open her body to a stranger, right in front of her husband?

I kept thinking—what a vast world this is.
Something so rare, so unlikely—yet here it was, happening in reality.

The entire day passed in a haze of anticipation. I didn't even notice time slipping by.

They lived in Sujin, but we met at a motel in Sadang-dong.
To cut to the chase—we fully satisfied each other's sexual desires.

Both couples were young, in their thirties,
and clearly enjoyed sex, understood each other, and loved one another.

The only difference from you and your husband?
She didn't struggle internally.
She freely expressed her sexual desires and fantasies, demanding them from her partner,
and enjoyed herself without guilt.

We agreed to meet at a motel in Sadang-dong.
They'd booked the room first and called me when they arrived.
As I struggled through the traffic jam on Namtaeryeong Hill, the phone rang.

The husband gave me the room number and said they were already there, having a beer—told me to hurry.

My heart pounded as I knocked on the door of Room 5-something on the fifth floor.
My lewd, throbbing cock—already hard and soft several times that day—was now slick with pre-cum.

The husband opened the door with a smile that instantly put me at ease.
The wife's shy, blushing smile was irresistibly cute and alluring.

They were both in robes, sitting with beers, waiting for me.

Through the gap in her loosely tied robe, I caught sight of her pale, smooth thighs,
and her plump, round ass—hiding her dark, intimate folds in a way that made me even more aroused.

My cock stiffened instantly, growing thick and heavy.
I felt a flicker of embarrassment,
but the sheer excitement of being in a closed room with two people—three of us, alone—overwhelmed me.

After a quick shower, I had no spare robe, so I was only in my undershirt and briefs.
We exchanged brief greetings, and then the husband went into the bathroom to shower.
For a few minutes, I was alone with the wife.

I asked her about her life, why she'd made this decision, what sex positions she liked.

She answered in a soft, almost whispery voice—so modest, so captivating.

From her full, red lips, she said:

"I like being on top. I've always wanted to try it with another man."

Hearing such words from a woman who looked like the perfect, virtuous wife—
my desire doubled, then tripled.

I naturally wrapped my arm around her waist.
Glancing toward the bathroom, I gently squeezed her soft, plump ass.

I thought I saw her lips tremble slightly.

From then on, I boldly kneaded the ass of this sweet, innocent 36-year-old married woman—
a woman who looked like a proper, demure lady.

This pleasure—this feeling—was completely new to me.

A married woman. A woman in her mid-thirties.
Me, caressing another man's wife's hips, licking the nape of her neck—
and doing it all right in front of her husband.

You can't understand this feeling unless you've lived it.

I even thought—being born a man was worth it, just for this.

When the husband came out of the bathroom, he noticed right away.
He glanced at me briefly, and we shared an awkward, knowing smile.

To ease the tension, I offered to give the wife a massage.
She lay face down on the bed, still in her robe.
The husband sat on a chair beside us, watching.

My "skilled" hands moved slowly—from her calves, up her thighs, over her ass, along her back, to her neck.
When my fingers lingered in the deep curve between her buttocks,
I felt her body tremble, her legs part slightly.

She was clearly aroused—women always breathe unevenly when they're excited.

I placed my hands on her breasts, gently kneading them through the robe.
Then, slowly, I slipped my hand inside, touching her bare skin.

I hadn't expected it—but as if to heighten my arousal even more,
she pressed the back of her hand against my cock for a few seconds,
then suddenly grabbed it, slowly stroking it back and forth.

I was only in briefs and an undershirt, so I let her—
she pulled my cock out through the hole in my underwear.

Now holding it directly, she stroked it slowly, staring at my shaft.
I watched her—but also glanced at her husband.

I was finally living a dream.

I saw the husband flinch slightly as he looked at my cock.
Mine was already fully erect, glistening with pre-cum.
Compared to my thick, heavy cock, his own—standing there in front of his wife—
looked small, almost pitiful.
I felt a twinge of guilt.

But my cock was already swollen beyond full hardness—
my shameless, massive shaft throbbing with need.

I rubbed it against her ass, along the curve of her waist,
groaning softly as I pressed it into her flesh.

With her free hand, she was touching her clit and perineum,
running her fingers from her calves up to her thighs again and again.

Meanwhile, the husband had taken out his own erect cock and was masturbating beside us.

My "massage" continued.

I turned her onto her back.
She lay there, legs spread, no panties on—
then pulled me toward her, her mouth moving toward my cock.

She wanted it—fully, deeply—into her mouth.

I glanced at the husband.
He gave me a subtle nod—go ahead.

But then—

perhaps the presence of two men was heightening her arousal—
I knelt down and started stroking her pussy with my hand,
then lowered myself, licking her slit with my tongue.

She naturally spread her legs wider.
She let out short moans, pressing my head down harder—
a woman who'd tasted another man's touch had nothing left to hold back.

I was so aroused I felt like I might cum any second.

Meanwhile, she stayed on her stomach, taking my hard cock deep into her mouth,
sucking it down to the root.

It felt like I'd stepped into a porn video—
like I was now the star, living out a fantasy with another man's wife.

As she kept sucking,
she started making animalistic sounds, grinding her hips wildly,
begging me without words to shove my cock into her pussy.

Her small, pretty mouth was stuffed full with my thick shaft—
longer than her forearm.

At my gesture, the husband climbed onto the bed.
He slid his cock into his wife's already soaked pussy in one smooth motion.

Then we switched positions.

I focused on licking her pussy while she sucked her husband's cock—
just like in those videos.

It was almost funny how perfectly it mirrored the fantasy.

A short while later, I pushed my cock into her pussy.

For a moment, I wondered—could my thick shaft really fit into her small, delicate hole?

We all watched slowly, savoring the sight—
my massive cock disappearing completely into her body, not an inch left outside.

She trembled with excitement and ecstasy.
He watched with a mix of shock and arousal.

The look on their faces—like they were witnessing the end of the world—
was different for each of them.

Between me and the wife, all space had vanished.

As my thick shaft sank into her body,
it felt like we'd been fused together for years—
like those conjoined triplets I'd once seen in an old photo.

She kept her husband's cock in her mouth, but her eyes were fixed on her own pussy—
wanting to see my cock enter her.

She stared at herself, spreading her ass cheeks with her hands,
smiling at her husband—flushed, aroused, utterly beautiful.

That sight—so cute, so hot—made me speak.

"How does it feel," I asked, "sucking another man's cock while your husband watches?"

She didn't answer right away.
Instead, she looked at me and whispered:

"Do I look… too shameful to you?"

"No," I said. "Not at all. Madam—"