The favela warehouse
My wife and I had been married for 3 years, and since the first year of marriage we had opened up our sex life. She had some occasional partners, most of them close friends who we were gaining trust in.
We were 25 when we moved near a favela, and things began to change. It all started with a guy who always bought bread at a bakery near our house. My wife is 5'6" tall and has a body that attracts attention despite her small breasts. She's very white and usually draws glances when she passes by. This time was no different. This guy lived in the favela up the street from us. He always came down to buy bread at the same time as her. It started with a few glances, then some laughter, and it wasn't long before they exchanged contact information.
He was a six-foot-one black guy, about 23 years old, thin and toned. My wife told me about him, and I immediately noticed his interest—it wasn't unusual; he was her type. When she had the chance, she explained to him that she was married but had a casual relationship. Within a month, she brought him home, and he fucked her on the first day. He left surprised by her talents and especially by her asking him to cum inside her during their first encounter. He soon became addicted; whenever he needed to, he'd come over and relieve himself inside her. She loved it and always invited him over to check it out. It didn't stop there; one day, he decided to introduce her to a friend, and sure enough, the very first time, she asked him to cum inside her too.
The two of them visited frequently; practically every week, one of them would go over to feed my wife's thirst. It turns out that a white girl this available and thirsty isn't anonymous in the favela. Soon, she had a third friend, then a fourth, and practically every day, someone would come over and deposit cum in her. She had become famous in the community; among the "cribs," almost all of them had milked her. Her pussy had already shrunk, and she could barely feel my tiny white penis anymore.
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One day we were invited to a party for one of the favela managers. A car picked us up, and we climbed the hill for the first time. After a barricade where two men with rifles were playing cards, we entered a large, beautiful house with a pool. There was no music, and when we entered the living room, I noticed there were only two women at the party: a brunette in a bikini and my wife. There was barbecue and unlimited drinks, and there were eight men in total. Twenty minutes after we arrived, the birthday boy arrived. He introduced himself by his nickname, "Pelé."
Pelé was a tall, corpulent black man, wearing an extremely shiny watch and a very thick gold chain that rested on top of a Flamengo shirt.
— That's the white one, boss.
He approached her, placed his hand on her waist, and kissed her cheek. After that, he greeted me and introduced me to "Cátia," another woman at the party. Well, the music started, and soon the drinking began. After a few drinks, my wife was already twerking in her bikini with Cátia, showing off for the audience. The first man my wife met at the bakery approached her and began fondling her butt in front of everyone. Soon, another approached and did the same, then another, and the purpose of the party became clear. Pelé motioned for my wife to come closer, and she promptly did so. While she admired her body, he said to me:
— You're very generous with us, I couldn't leave you hanging today, Catia is all yours. And, of course. Your wife is all ours.
Catia approached me and caressed my thigh, while Pelé ran his hand all over my wife's body. He was sitting in a chair near the pool. My wife turned to face him, and he was already running his hand over his shorts. She knelt down, smiling, and placed her hand on his thighs under his shorts. She looked surprised at what she had found with her hands, and he smiled proudly. She removed her hands and unbuttoned his shorts, then pulled down his underwear, revealing a large, thick black cock. She began sucking it slowly, sliding her tongue along its length, while Catia stroked my cock over my pants. After sucking, my wife turned her back to him and faced me. She lifted her ass, and he pushed her panties aside and guided her to his cock. She slowly sat on that thick cock, moaning louder with every inch. Pelé placed his hand under her thighs and lifted her up onto his thighs, exposing that he had inserted his entire cock into her.
It was clear that his cock had opened her pussy even wider. I really don't know how she could have taken it all. Pelé began lifting her up and down so that his cock went all the way in and then back out. She stood there with her pussy being fucked while the other men watched, laughed, drank, and talked among themselves. It wasn't long before Pelé came inside her right there, smiling with satisfaction. When he pulled out his cock in that position, her pussy was broken and oozing with juice, and that was just the beginning.
After the manager put her on the floor, two other men approached, caressing and squeezing her ass and breasts. The first pinned her with his hands on the chair and began fucking her right there while the other rubbed his cock in her face. After a few minutes, another came inside her, and seconds later another black cock fucked her, and it went on like that, one after the other until everyone at the party had cum inside her. Cum dripped from her raw pussy down to her legs, and she trembled with pleasure. I came too, in Cátia's hand and in full view of my wife with her panties to the side and completely open. That was my wife's initiation party, the favela warehouse.
