The alley swallowed them like a secret—dim, quiet, and perfect for sin. Neon lights from the street flickered weakly against the cracked bricks, painting the scene in strokes of faded red and amber. The city noise melted behind them, replaced by the soft rustle of clothing and the warm, ragged breathing of a woman about to ruin her vows.
Yumi staggered against the wall, giggling through her slurred moans. Her blazer hung from one shoulder, her skirt was hitched high enough to tease the lace edge of her panties, and her heels had long since been tossed aside. She leaned heavily on the wall, clutching at it like she might fall over—though whether from the alcohol or anticipation, even she didn't know anymore.
Nathan took his time.
He didn't rush. Didn't push. Just stood in front of her with a calm, almost surgical gaze, drinking her in. She was a mess. Lipstick smeared across her cheek, makeup running from the sweat and heat, and eyes glassy and wide as they flicked—again and again—to the growing outline in his jeans.
"I shouldn't be here…" she muttered, her voice cracking into a giggle. "I'm married, y'know? I love my hubby... even if he's a limp-dick workaholic prick…"
She hiccupped, then hiccupped again. And then:
"I'm not a fuckin' street whore…"
Nathan didn't say anything. He just stepped closer.
Yumi flinched when he reached out, but she didn't stop him. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing a smear of lipstick from the corner of her mouth. She shivered under the gentle touch, her lashes fluttering like she was about to faint. Then his other hand slipped under her chin, tilted her face up—and he kissed her.
Soft. Slow.
The kind of kiss that married men don't give anymore. The kind of kiss that tells a woman she's not just going to get fucked—she's going to be used.
Yumi whimpered into it, her knees already wobbling. Her hands rose instinctively, pressing against his chest—then curling into his hoodie instead of pushing him away. When he broke the kiss, she was panting.
"I-I said I shouldn't…" she whispered.
"Then say no," Nathan murmured, his voice deep, calm, final. "Tell me to stop."
Yumi blinked.
Her mouth opened.
But no words came out.
Instead, she let out a drunken little gasp when his hands slid down her sides, gripping her waist. Then one hand snuck up, under her blouse, fingers brushing over her soft belly until they reached her bra.
"Ohh—d-don't—" she whined, pressing her thighs together. "It's just... m-my nipples are really sensitive right now, 'cause I'm ovulating, or drunk, or something…"
"Good."
He slipped his hand into the bra and rolled her nipple between his fingers, and Yumi shivered violently—eyes fluttering, mouth falling open in a breathy, helpless moan.
"You act like a tsundere, but your body's honest."
"I—I ain't curious or anything," she whispered, even as she leaned into his hand, arching her back to push her tits further into his touch. "It's just a little play, s'all. Just for a minute…"
Nathan chuckled and kissed her again, harder this time, tongue invading her mouth like he owned it. While she moaned into the kiss, his other hand slid up her thigh, fingers hooking into her panties.
"You're soaked," he muttered against her lips.
"D-don't say that out loud!" she whined. "I-it's just hot tonight!"
He pushed the fabric aside and dragged a finger along her dripping slit, watching her twitch and squirm at the lightest touch.
Then he knelt.
"W-what're you—n-nooo… not there, not—" she squeaked.
But he didn't listen.
He kissed her inner thigh, dragging his tongue up the soft skin, slow and lazy. Then he spread her legs wider, pulled the panties to the side, and devoured her.
Yumi shrieked.
Her hands slammed into the brick wall behind her as her body jolted from the first wet stroke of his tongue across her clit. Her hips bucked, but he held her in place, fingers digging into her thighs, tongue flicking and circling, teasing her swollen nub with slow, wicked precision.
She started to cry.
Not from sadness—but from the sheer overwhelming heat of it. She'd never been eaten like this. Not by her husband. Not by anyone.
"F-fuck… oh fuck, you're not allowed to be this good!" she sobbed, voice cracking with every trembling breath. "I'm… I'm married—!"
Her legs gave out.
Nathan caught her easily and pressed her against the wall, still kneeling, still lapping at her with ruthless hunger. She was grinding on his mouth now, mindlessly humping his face like a bitch in heat.
"I-I'm not a whore… I'm not—I'm n-not…" she whispered.
Then she came.
Hard.
Her back arched against the brick, a scream torn from her throat as her pussy gushed. Nathan licked her clean, slow and deliberate, as she collapsed in his arms, twitching.
Then, and only then, he stood.
His cock was rock hard. He slowly, purposefully undid his pants, let them slide down his hips. Yumi stared.
Her lips parted. Her eyes widened.
"…just for a minute…" she whispered, drunk off lust and cherry-slick heat. "It's not 'cause I'm curious or anything… just one minute…"
Nathan smiled.
Then he lined up.
And buried himself inside her.
Nathan buried himself in her in one slow, merciless thrust.
"Ah—ahhnnn~!" Yumi cried out, her voice ragged and trembling, a filthy blend of shock and raw, electric pleasure.
Her nails scraped against the brick wall, legs wrapped instinctively around his waist. Her pussy clenched around him like it was trying to suck him deeper, as if her body had already betrayed every half-drunk excuse her mouth had whispered earlier.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
His hips began to move, slow and deliberate, each thrust sinking in to the hilt with wet, obscene squelches.
"Hnnngh—n-nooo, you're too big—ahhhn! T-this isn't fair!" she whimpered, but her back arched to meet every thrust.
Her moans were slurred with pleasure, each one higher than the last, her legs shaking as his cock pounded into her with relentless rhythm.
Nathan leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear.
"What's your husband's name?"
Yumi blinked, her eyes wide, dazed, and glossy.
"H-Huh...?"
He didn't slow down.
Slap—slap—slap.
Her body jolted with every thrust, her tits bouncing, her soaked pussy splattering juices with every impact.
"What's. His. Name?" Nathan repeated, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust.
"A-Ahh! K-Kenji! His name's Kenji—ohhh fuck—!"
Her eyes rolled up for a second, her voice cracking into a sobbing moan.
"D-don't make me say it—ahhhnn~!"
Nathan grinned, lips brushing her temple.
"So Kenji's wife is getting split open in a filthy alley by a stranger with a bigger cock…"
Yumi let out a garbled scream—half shame, half orgasmic bliss.
Her body tightened, her pussy spasming around his cock like it was about to milk him dry.
[SYSTEM: Kink Detected – Public Degradation]
>> Activate?
[Y/N]
The glowing blue box flickered at the edge of Nathan's vision—floating just over Yumi's shoulder.
He pressed yes.
The alley shimmered faintly with magic—and suddenly, they weren't quite alone. A thin veil fell from around them. Footsteps echoed nearby. The illusion of privacy crumbled.
A man walked past the alley's entrance—looked in—paused.
Yumi saw him.
"N-No! Don't—ahh! Don't look! I—ahhh~!"
Her words said no, but her hips bucked harder, grinding against Nathan like she was starving for more. Her nipples were hard and flushed, her clit twitching, her body trembling under the heat of voyeuristic shame.
Nathan didn't stop. He slammed into her even harder.
"Don't hide now," he growled, fucking her through her spiraling arousal.
"You wanted this. You wanted someone to see what kind of married slut you really are."
Yumi let out a scream—"HNNNNGH—AHHHHH!~"—as another orgasm crashed over her.
She came again, her pussy clenching wildly around his cock, her thighs quivering, her voice hoarse from moaning like a whore in heat.
And the man at the alley entrance?
He watched.
Frozen. Staring.
Yumi looked at him.
Her face twisted in horrified, euphoric shame.
Nathan didn't slow down.
Didn't let up.
Didn't even pretend to give her mercy.
The raw slap of his hips against her ruined pussy echoed through the alley like a war drum. Her body was soaked—slick with sweat, cum, and spit—and it only got filthier with every thrust.
Then the crowd came.
One by one, they passed by the alley's entrance—some gasping, others laughing, a few pretending to look away. But most?
Most stayed. Most watched.
Smartphones were raised. The air filled with the cold, mechanical clicks of camera shutters and the low hum of people whispering.
"Oh my god, she's getting wrecked…" "Who lets themselves be seen like that?" "She's still moaning? What a slut."
Yumi heard every word. She felt every eye on her. Her body shook—not just from the rough fucking, but from the wave of shame crashing down on her like a dirty tide. Her mouth opened in a sob, but no words came out—only moans, filthy and slurred, her eyes wide and glistening.
Her mascara ran in black streaks. Her legs quaked with every thrust. And her holes?
Ruined.
Her pussy was sloppy and red, drooling cum like it had given up all pretense. Her asshole twitched with every motion, stretched wide from Nathan's fingers and the brutal pounding she took without resistance.
"Smile for them," Nathan growled, pulling her hair back just enough to lift her face toward the watching crowd. "Let them see how proud you are of getting used like this."
Yumi's lips trembled.
Then she came.
Hard.
A violent, body-wracking orgasm tore through her as her soaked pussy clenched around him like a vice. Her asshole spasmed, gaping slightly from the pressure, still wet from his fingers. Her legs gave out completely, dropping her to her knees with a slap.
The spectators gasped.
Phones zoomed in.
"She's squirting—Oh gods, look at that!" "Someone tag her husband. He needs to see this."
Nathan finally pulled out, his cock dripping with a mix of her juices and his cum. Yumi collapsed fully—face-down, ass raised, twitching. Cum oozed from both holes, her body still spasming in post-orgasmic shudders.
And Nathan?
He didn't even zip up yet.
Instead, he knelt beside her discarded handbag, fingers digging through it until he found her wallet. Neatly folded bills—crisp, clean, and completely undeserved.
He flipped through it.
Pulled a few notes out—fives, tens, maybe a twenty.
Yumi moaned weakly, barely lifting her head as he walked back to her.
"N-Nathan…?" she mumbled, her voice shredded. "W-what're you…"
He didn't answer.
He crouched behind her ruined ass, still twitching, still leaking.
And with a smirk—he stuffed a folded bill between her cheeks.
She gasped.
Then another—he slid it in slow, pushing it gently into her convulsing, overstimulated asshole. It twitched, clenched instinctively around the crumpled money.
Yumi moaned again.
Louder.
Shamelessly.
Her ass kept fluttering around the inserted bills like it didn't know whether to push them out or suck them deeper.
"Tip jar," Nathan muttered, voice dry with amusement.
He patted her ass like a bartender wiping down a counter.
Then, casually, he pocketed the rest of the cash and leaned close to her ear—his breath warm against her skin.
"I need this," he whispered. "Don't worry… I'll give it back."
She barely managed to lift her face from the filthy ground, eyes hazy with cum-drunk exhaustion.
"When we meet again."
And with that—he stood, zipped up, and walked off into the night like nothing happened.
Behind him, Yumi was left twitching on the alley floor.
Cum leaking from both holes.
Money shoved up her gaping, quivering ass.
Surrounded by strangers snapping pictures, whispering, laughing.
Her phone vibrated in her bag.
Incoming Call: Kenji ❤️
She didn't move.
Couldn't.
Just lay there moaning—used, broken, and paid for with her own fucking wallet.