Chapter 1 – The Stretch

It's 6:00 p.m. on Monday. Corrine, your wife, comes out of the bedroom already changed into her usual gym set, the tight sports bra and matching shorts. Blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, a light gleam of sweat already on her skin from the short warm up she always does at home. She leans in, presses a soft kiss to your cheek, and murmurs

Corrine: “Don’t wait up, okay? Coach Jim is making me stay for the extra stretch class today. Also, could you look for my passport, pretty please? It should be on my office somewhere. Love you”

The door closes. Five days until the anniversary trip. Saturday.

You head to her home office to grab the passports like she told you. Bottom drawer, right side. You find them… and under a stack of papers sit several unmarked DVDs. One has a handwritten label in her neat handwriting: “No. 1 – Good Girl, Good Stretch”

You figure it’s some private little surprise she recorded for the trip. You take it to the living-room, turn on your laptop, slide it in, and hit play.

The video starts shaky. The camera is set on a low table in an unfamiliar living room. Your wife steps into frame, adjusting the angle until her full body is visible. The first clear shot catches her left hand as she steadies the camera: the wedding ring is right there, plain gold band catching the light while she smiles at the lens, warm, a little playful, the same smile she gives you when she’s about to ask for something.

Corrine: “Ready?”

She asks

A tall, heavily built man steps in behind her. Broad shoulders, dark hair cropped short, thick arms. Coach Jim, you recognize him from her stories and photos at the gym. He doesn’t speak at first. His hands simply slide under the sports bra from behind, cupping and lifting those massive tits like he already owns them. She lets out a breathy laugh and arches into his palms, the ring flashing again as she reaches back to rest a hand on his thigh, real close to his hard erection

Corrine: “Mmm… careful with the clothes, I still have to go home to him later. Don’t rip anything.”

She whispers, looking straight at the camera.

Jim ignores the warning. He yanks the bra up over her breasts so they spill free, heavy and flushed, nipples already tight. He gropes them hard, thumbs circling, squeezing and lifting until the soft flesh overflows his hands. One hand drops between her legs, rubbing over her shorts with slow and deliberate pressure. She spreads her legs for him without being asked, rolling her hips against his fingers.

Coach Jim: “Look how wet you already are. Been thinking about this all day, haven’t you? Sitting at home with that ring on, already soaked for me.”

Corrine: “Yes… Been aching for it since last time. I kept touching myself thinking about you stretching me again.”

He pushes the shorts and the small pair of panties down her thighs in one motion. She steps out of them carefully, still glancing at the camera like she’s making sure the angle is good. The ring stays visible every time her hand moves. Jim turns her, guides her down to her knees on the rug. His cock is already out, thick, heavy, dark and already leaking. She doesn’t hesitate.

She leans in, tongue out, and takes the head between her lips with a hungry sound.

The camera catches everything, the way her cheeks hollow, the spit that starts to shine on her chin, the slow bob of her ponytail as she works deeper. Jim’s hand rests on the back of her head, not forcing yet, just resting. She looks up at him, eyes half lidded and filled with lust in a way you haven't seen her before, she pushes forward until her nose presses against his stomach. A wet gag, then she holds it, tongue working around him, you can see the bulge forming on her cheeks. Her left hand comes up to stroke what she can’t fit, the wedding band against the thick base of his cock.

Coach Jim: “Fuck… good girl. Take it. That’s it. Show the camera how deep you can go for me while you’re still wearing his ring. Let him see what his wife does when she’s hungry.”

He groans.

She does. Several long, messy strokes, spit running down onto her bare tits and dripping from her chin. She pulls back just enough to breathe, then sinks down again, taking him deeper each time, eyes watering but never looking away from his face. When he finally pulls her off with a wet pop, strings of saliva connect her lips to his cock. She is breathing hard, smiling, face all flushed, a trail of spit still hanging from her lower lip. She's never done that for you

Jim doesn’t give her time to recover. He hauls her up, turns her around, and pushes her down onto all fours on the rug in front of the camera. Her breasts hang and sway as she gets in position. He kneels behind her, grips her hips and sinks into her in one fast thrust. The wet sound is loud and filthy. She moans, open, shameless, and pushes back to meet him, thick thighs spreading wider.

This isn't your wife, you think. She is never that eager, that willing and submissive.

Coach Jim: “Still so fucking tight, even after all the times I’ve stretched this married cunt. You keep coming back for more.”

He growls, hips slamming forward.

Corrine: “I know… ah—fuck, Jim—keep going. Stretch me more. It feels so good when you ruin it. I need it.”

He fucks her hard in doggystyle, one hand yanking her ponytail so her back arches, the other spanking her ass until the skin pinks and jiggles. She keeps looking back over her shoulder toward the camera between moans, eyes teary, mouth open, tongue out. Every time she braces herself the wedding ring shines again.

After a while he pulls out, grabs her under the arms, and lifts her entirely off the floor. He locks her legs up high, folding her into a full nelson so her legs are forced up beside her head and her body is completely open and suspended against his chest. The position leaves nothing hidden from the camera. He drives back into her from below, using his strength to bounce her on his cock. Her tits bounce hard with every thrust, and she can do nothing but take it, arms trapped, legs locked wide.

Coach Jim: “Look at you. Wearing his ring while I fold you open and use you like this. You’re not even trying to close your legs.”

Corrine: “I don’t want to, keep me like this… stretch me deeper. I love how helpless I feel when you hold me.”

She gasps, completely fixated, fully submitted.

He keeps her locked in the full nelson for a long stretch, pounding up into her while she moans and drips onto the floor beneath them. Then he lowers her onto her back on the couch, right in front of the camera, and settles between her thighs in missionary. He hooks her legs over his arms, spreads her wide, and sinks back in deep. This angle puts everything on full display, the way her folds stretch around him, the wet shine on her inner thighs, the wedding ring still glinting on her hand as she reaches down to hold herself open for the lens.

Coach Jim: “Tell the camera, tell him what his wife needs.”

he orders

Corrine: “I need this, I need to be stretched and filled by a real cock. I’m his wife… but I come here and beg for this. I love being used like a slut while I still wear his ring.”

She moans, staring straight into the lens while he fucks her.

He keeps her in missionary, driving into her hard and steady, her breasts bouncing with every impact, until he finally pulls out. He strokes himself over her body and finishes across her tits, stomach, and the mound between her legs. Thick ropes of cum land on her skin, some of it streaking across the hand that still wears your ring. She lies there panting, legs still open, smiling at the camera one last time while his cum slowly slides down her body.

The video ends.

Your wife is either on her way to him right now… or already under him again.

Five days until Saturday. Four discs on the drawer.