It wasn't until a full, excruciating thirty minutes had passed that Marcus was finally able to satisfy the demanding, giggling, torturous girls with the cheap, stupid products they wanted.

All of them were taking way too much time on one single, stupid piece of jewelry. They had to look at themselves in the mirror, move to different angles, then ask each and every single girl in the group for their honest opinion on their looks.

And of course, if even one of them was not satisfied, if one girl said, "Hmm, no, Janine, it makes your neck look weird," the entire, agonizing process would start all over! It was too much. It was hell.

In normal cases, on any other day, Marcus would have been elated to have this much business, but not right now. Not while this was happening.

And not to mention the commentary! The entire thirty minutes were filled with their constant, nonstop chatting about the man's stamina and his obvious performance.

The sound from upstairs only increased as time went on, coupled with the girls saying things like, "Wow, he's still going?" and "Whoever is at the receiving end of that, she's definitely having all her holes rearranged completely."

"Grhhh!" Marcus gritted his teeth, slamming his fist hard onto the counter top. BAM! The four, measly notes of 50 crowns, the 200 crowns that started this whole nightmare, were scattered on the counter table.

The rhythmic, pounding sound didn't stop. Neither did the moans.

"Ahm~ mm~ NGH!"

That was Lily's voice, unmistakably! Marcus glared up at the ceiling, his face a mask of pure rage, but his pant, his traitorous, disgusting pant, was now fully tight.

His whole mind, his entire, awful, corrupted brain, had been taken, hijacked, by imagining exactly what they were doing upstairs all this time.

"I should, no, I am going to kill that bastard!"

Marcus slammed his fist on the wood once more. BAM! He stormed out from behind the counter, stalking over to the back room. He reached under a pile of dirty rags and yanked out a heavy, wooden baseball bat.

"I put this here for safety," he hissed to himself, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the handle tight. "In case any thugs showed up. And I didn't have to use this to this day, but RIGHT NOW!"

He was breathing heavily, huffing, panting, his whole chest heaving, as he once again glared up.

He gripped the heavy wooden bat, his knuckles white, and took one furious step towards the stairs, ready to finally go up there and commit a murder. But just as his foot hit the first step, the damned bell rang once again.

Ding-a-ling-a-ling!

Marcus whipped his head around, a murderous glare on his face, fully prepared to scream at whoever it was. He was shocked to see... it was the last batch of girls. The same exact ones who had just left!

"Oops! Sorry!" one of them chirped, giggling as she ran back inside. "We forgot our purse!"

"Ah!" Marcus just... deflated. His rage... his momentum... everything... just died. He wanted to die. He literally just wanted to fall over and die right there on his stupid, dusty floor.

Why? Why was he suffering so much? What had he ever done to deserve this cosmic level of torture?

'Fuck!' he screamed inside his aching head. 'This is... this is just... my life!' He wanted to curse his entire life out, loud, for the whole world to hear. And then, defeated, broken, his bat hanging limply in his hand... he turned back to the stairs.

The girl finally left.

"H-he must be forcing her!" Marcus whispered to himself, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wooden bat. "He must be forcing Lily to do all those awful things that she doesn't want to do! Yes, that's it! I should save her! I must save her!"

He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to build up his courage, and finally, finally, climbed the stairs. His rage was a hot fire in his chest, but something else, something shameful and hot, was making his legs feel weak.

The door to his own house, his home, wasn't even locked. He entered the building as easily as Alex had, trying to be stealthy, creeping on his own cheap carpet, trying not to make any sound at all.

But it was useless. It wasn't his sound that resounded through his house, it was theirs.

At this close, the sound was disgusting. It was so loud. He could distinctively hear the wet, sloppy, slapping sound of flesh on flesh. Smack! Smack! Thwack! And it was coming... oh no... it was coming from his bedroom. Their bedroom.

Marcus took a heavy gulp, his throat suddenly bone dry. He gripped the wooden bat so hard his hand ached.

'It's humiliating!' he screamed inside his head. 'This is just plain, awful humiliation! I am a failure!'

As a man, Marcus was feeling completely emasculated just for even hesitating right here. He should just burst in! He should go in and smash that bastard's handsome, suit-wearing head open, saving his wife like a real hero!

But... but... the closer he got to his own room, the tighter his traitorous pants felt. His heart was beating wildly, hammering against his ribs, not just from rage, but from... anticipation.

'W-what would I see in there?' his awful, awful brain whispered. 'Is he doing her in doggy st—'

SLAP! Marcus actually slapped himself, hard, right across his own face. He shouldn't be thinking about it!

He was a husband! And right now, his wife was being defiled by another man! He had to stop it!

"Arh~ ngh~ Slowly! Alex, slowly! I can't~ I can't take anymore~!"

That was Lily's voice! It was high and broken and panting! Was she in pain? Was she... not? He had to see. His hand, shaking, reached out.

He gripped the cold, brass doorknob. He turned it... slowly, slowly, slowly. He pushed the door open... just a crack. Just one, tiny, silent inch.

He peeked inside.

There, inside his own bedroom, both Alex and Lily were completely, shamelessly naked. They were on his bed, their bed, and Alex had Lily in a position Marcus didn't even know was possible.

She was laid flat on her back, but Alex had grabbed both of her legs and pressed them all the way back, until her knees were right up beside her own head. He was looming over her, a dark, powerful shape, pounding into her with a raw, brutal energy.

But what truly made Marcus stop dead in his tracks, what made the baseball bat feel suddenly heavy and useless in his hand, was the sheer, unbelievable size of that monster cock.

It was just too much. It was too big. It was a thick, dark, unreal thing, and it was plunging deep into Lily's glistening, pink pussy with every single heavy, slapping thrust.

Her snow-white, juicy ass cheeks, which were propped up and totally exposed, were already a little red from the force of the impact. And he could see it all. From his tiny, cracked-open view, he could see the black monster of Alex slowly, brutally stretching the delicate, pink walls of her little pussy.

Marcus felt like he was having a heart attack. His breath caught in his throat, and the baseball bat almost slipped from his sweaty grip.

His other hand, moving all on its own, instinctively shot down towards his own, pathetic, little brother. Before he even knew what he was doing, he began to rub it gently, his eyes completely glued to the filthy, horrifying, amazing... scene before him.

Alex, as if he could feel his audience, paused for just a second. Marcus, lost in his dazed, horrified arousal, didn't see the vicious, knowing smirk that spread all across Alex's face.

He just felt the change in rhythm.

Alex slowed down the frantic, hard pounding. He started making his sweet time, deliberately... pulling his massive bbc almost all the way out. Stretching her wide. Letting Marcus see... just before plugging... slowly... agonizingly... right back... deep... inside.

"Tell me, Lily, whose cock is better?"

Alex chuckled, his voice a low, arrogant rumble in the thumping, sweat-soaked room.

"Is it mine... or is it your pathetic little husband's?"

He stopped all movement, pausing his brutal, pounding rhythm right at the very top.

He held himself there, perfectly still, the huge, glistening head of his cock just perfectly aligned with her wet, throbbing, completely-stretched-open pussy.

He was teasing her, torturing her and the pathetic, hidden audience he knew was watching.

Lily was a complete and total mess.

She was obliterated. Her hair, usually so neat, was a wild, tangled, sweaty disaster, plastered to her face and the pillows. Her eyes were completely glazed, blank and unfocused, her pupils rolled up so far into her head that only the whites were showing.

A thin, shining string of drool was leaking from the corner of her slack, open mouth, her tongue lolling out like she was dead. And now... oh god... now that he had stopped... paused... for just one single, agonizing moment... her brain... was able to... think.

How did she get here? What was happening? Why... why... was she suddenly... seeing heaven? Why was every single nerve in her body on fire?

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.