I’d just witnessed my wife fucked to pieces by a three-man train and I had ejaculated to it per my nurse’s request.

I didn’t know how I felt in that moment except that I needed to get out of there.

I made my way out of the observation room into the labyrinth of hallways and elevators that constituted the guts of our local MWHR HQ. I couldn’t find my way out until a little roller bot appeared and told me to follow it to the exit.

It was a beautiful day outside. One wouldn’t think it was some monumental, unforgettable date. But it was. And I wasn’t alone in that. Outside in the plaza, as I hurried through, I saw a husband collecting his wife. She had just come out of the clinic, having completed her DIC appointment, and they embraced. A few other husbands sat around, also waiting. These were husbands who’d decided not to watch or weren’t invited to, and this then was their little safe station. How supportive these husbands seemed. That pathetic man was squeezing his wife so lovingly, so tightly, that I imagined he might squeeze the gallon of sperm she carried within right out of her. She allowed him to kiss her on her filthy mouth and to take her home loaded with a swishingly sperm-full womb.

Unlike these idiots, I had seen what my wife had just done. If they had seen what their wives had just done, maybe they wouldn’t be sitting around waiting for them to come out and put on this formality of “Nothing’s really changed between us, honey.” Everything’s changed! And I wouldn’t stick around to pretend it hadn’t.

I made my way out of the plaza, but then I heard him, and then I saw him. The infamous protestor in the robot costume with the giant dildo affixed between the legs. He had his signs out, and he was chanting. If those wait-n-huggers were one end of the moron spectrum, this protestor was the other end. I realized the roller bot had followed me far out into the plaza, and I snapped at it, “I can find my way from here.”

“Congratulations, and have a nice day.” It wheeled around and headed back toward the towering complex.

The protestor was loud. “Emperor doesn’t need us to breed; it wants us to heed! If it can’t bleed, it can’t lead! It spreads the seed to feed its greed!”

As I passed, I heckled him. “What’s next, creed, deed, weed, fuckface?! Nobody has a choice! You just make it worse for everyone.”

This older man looked me directly in the eye and shot back, “My biggest regret is accepting that nobody has a choice.”

I stopped and engaged. “Oh yeah? So how’d you do it?”

“Do what?” He twisted his wrinkled face at me, peering through long grey strands.

“How’d you keep your wife’s pussy to yourself?” I was radiating spite.

“I didn’t," he mumbled.

“Exactly!” I almost turned to go, to stomp off with my vindication.

“I never married. I was drafted. First-gen paramour. I fucked more married women and sired more issue than I could hope to count. But Emperor has the tally."

I froze cold as I realized who he was: a living legend, the very class of man millions of husbands first learned to fear and then to surrender their wives to. I was too dumbfounded and in awe to say a word.

He chanted, “Rejoice! We have a choice; raise your voice!”

Later, at home, I did anything to take my mind off it. I needed much more time than I had before my wife arrived home to try and work out what I would do.

“Hello! I’m home.” She came in and set her purse down, her voice hesitant but high and friendly.

“Welcome home,” I said.

She stood and stared for a moment. I shrugged. “So?”

She snickered, blushed, and touched her hair. “You didn’t meet me afterward.”

“We are meeting afterward, right now,” I said defensively.

She thought about it a moment. She was deciding to let it slide that I hadn’t met her in the plaza like the simps! I cocked an eyebrow at her. “So?”

She sat beside me, boldly, hip-to-hip with me on the sofa. “Did you stay at all?”

“I got coffee, dropped by the library, then went home.”

“Library? You didn’t watch? I mean, you didn’t watch me?” She put her hand on my lap.

“No. I didn’t want to. What was there for me to watch?” I placed my hand over her hand.

“You really didn’t watch me?” She held her breath even as she asked.

“No,” I lied, flat and plain.

She released a long sigh. “Oh. OK. Do you have anything to ask me, then?”

I put on an act of needing to think of something to ask, as if I wasn’t overflowing with questions anyway. “Alright. Let’s see. Who were the men, I guess?”

And then she lied her fucking ass off! “There was one paramour assigned to me.”

I nodded. “Yeah? A regular Adonis with a donkey dick, I’m sure.” I said it in a teasing tone, like I would be cool with it.

She winced and smiled. “Not actually. He was just regular. A normal kind of person, in every way. But the doctor told me, she said, this paramour has rare genes for endocrine function. Is that the glands?”

“He had great glands. Interesting.” I smirked. “Was he any good at sex?” I gently elbowed her.

She did a yes-no nod-shake of her head, then looked me in the eyes. “He took about three minutes. I didn’t orgasm. And then I was told that completes the appointment.”

I had to ask more, just to see how much more she could lie. “What position was it done in?”

She cleared her throat and lied again. “I lay on my stomach, and he applied himself from behind. I didn’t see his face during it. I told him not to put his hands on me, and he respected that.”

I kept a straight face, but I was boiling over inside. But then she kept maintaining eye contact, bringing her face closer and closer to mine, and she kissed me. Suddenly, all my rage was gone for a couple of seconds. It occurred to me in that interval that she was lying for my well-being. She was hiding the awful shit she knew I would hate to keep from hurting me. If she didn’t care about me, she would have just told the truth and let me deal with it whichever way or not at all.

And then she whispered, so quietly I barely heard it, and her lips barely moved, “I love you.”

I remembered the observation port from earlier that day, the one-way viewing pane that separated me from her. And now, she wasn’t behind a barrier. She was face-to-face with me, her body touching mine, her hand on my lap and under my hand, so warm and real. I looked at her and felt such sharp regret that I hadn’t embraced her when she came out. Those idiots may have been idiots, but even they knew enough to receive their wives properly.

“I couldn’t wait for you to return to me,” I said.

“That’s why you went home?” she said, her lips pressed to my ear.

“Are you really mine?” I asked.

“Don’t ask that. You know the answer.” And she ran her hand up under my shirt.

I had no fight left in me. I gave in to her and this moment. I lay back on the sofa, arms over the backrest, and she slid down onto the floor between my legs. With a frantic energy, she undid my pants and pulled them down, yanking them off my ankles like I was wrong to have had pants on in the first place.

“Show me you know the answer to your own question,” she said.

My erection was standing straight. She kept her hands at her sides and went after my dick open-mouthed like she was bobbing for apples. She sucked on the end of it like candy on a stick and looked up into my eyes as she moaned.

“You aren’t done having sex today? Your DIC appointment didn’t satiate you?” I really wondered.

With my dick pressing out the hollows of her cheeks, she gave me a little headshake in the negative.

“It made you want sex more?” I asked, petting her hair as she sucked loudly.

My glans suctioned between her lips, she gave me a deep, slow nod to affirm. She wasn't depleted after all that insane fucking!? No! Her DIC appointment had made her ravenous.

She sucked me as her hands travelled up her body to her hair, and she undid it, allowing it to drop free. How beautiful. I wanted to make her tell me more beautiful lies. “Was he someone you’d like to fuck again?”

She shook her head. “Mmuh-uh.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder.

Her tongue moved over my glans like she was trying to lick permanent ink off it. She pressed the tip of her tongue into my dick hole like she could squeeze-slip it in. Oh, I can’t contain myself when she does that. My knees came together, and I closed my thighs around her shoulders. My toes curled. “Did you like how he felt penetrating you?”

She pulled away from my cock, making a popping sound with her mouth as my dick came bouncing out, covered in her saliva. “I’ll admit, he wasn’t bad. He waited and made sure I was ready. But he just wasn’t you, and he wasn’t as good as you.”

She stood and pulled off her blouse. Then, arms behind her back, she undid her bra and let her straps slip off over her shoulders. I throbbed to see her tits, the same perfect tits I blamed for getting her noticed by the ministry! She let her bra drop down off her arms onto the floor between my feet, and I sat admiring them.

“You made me into a mom.” Then she placed her fingers over her lower abdomen, over her womb. “If today… if it happened like the ministry wanted… and I got pregnant…” She began to lose her words.

I hushed her. “Shhh. Come here. I’m not going anywhere. Come here.”

Her eyes went from fearful to seductive in a single blink. “You’ll always be mine?”

“Don’t ask questions you know the answer to," I said.

She began lowering her jeans, bent over, her tits hanging, looking at me. “And if I have another DIC appointment?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said.

She stood, revealing her pubic hair and her pussy lips. “I want you to lick me.”

I swallowed, hard. “Lick you?”

Her hand travelled down below, and with two fingers she gently parted herself. “I need you to lick me deep.”

I lay down on the sofa, head on the armrest, and closed my eyes. She threw a leg over my face, braced herself, and lowered her pussy onto my open mouth. What would I taste?!