Your wife was fucked in college like this

"Look at this shit." I sent the gif to my buddy Dave first, then regretted it immediately. Too late. My thumb hit send before my brain caught up. Phone buzzed right back. "Holy fuck. That's your wife?" "Yeah." "College?" "Yeah. Fuck. Yeah." I was sitting in my truck outside the gas station, engine still running, because I couldn't go inside like this. Hard in my jeans. Had to wait it out. The clip kept looping on my screen. That guy, shaved head, built like he played college football or something, had her folded up on the couch like nothing. Her feet were just dangling. One knee hooked over his elbow. He wasn't even straining. She's tiny. Always was. 5'1 on a good day, blonde back then too, but shorter hair. That couch in her old apartment had those stupid striped throw pillows. I remember them. I remember thinking they looked cheap. The angle in the video's from the side. You see his hand on her hip, fingers digging in. Hers on his thigh, not pushing exactly. More like she's holding on. Her other arm's tucked somewhere under her, probably trapped by how he's got her legs. He moves slow. Deliberate. Like he's in no rush at all. She takes it. That's the part that gets me every time. She just takes it. I knew about this guy. Not his name. She never gave me that. But she told me once, drunk, years later, that there was this one dude sophomore year who used to come over between classes and just use her. Said it like it was nothing. Said she didn't even have to text him. He'd just show up. Sometimes she'd still be in her pajamas from the night before. She'd answer the door and that was it. I asked if he was big. She laughed. Wouldn't answer. Now I know why. The way he's gripping her, it's not even sexual really. It's like he's moving furniture. Efficient. Her body's so small against him. His back's all veiny. You can see the muscles in his shoulder working when he shifts his weight. She's got a little tramp stamp or something, barely visible. Black and white. Maybe a butterfly. I never asked about it. I watched this thing probably fifteen times in the truck. Kept expecting to feel something different. Anger. Jealousy. Instead I just kept noticing new shit. The way his balls hang. How her toes point when he goes deep. The fact that she never once looks at the camera. Like she's not even performing for it. Just getting fucked. My phone buzzed again. Dave. "Bro you okay?" I didn't answer. Just kept staring. Her ankle. The way it flexes every time he bottoms out. There's a freckle on her shin I never noticed before.