"When I start to get upset and raise my voice in protest, she has to have Amir smack me around until I've learned my lesson. And because I was acting like such a jerk, she revokes my bed privileges for the rest of the month, which turns into another, then another, because I keep whining and acting ungrateful, forcing Amir to repeatedly put me in my place. By the time a year has passed, the divorce has gone through, she's pregnant, and they're cuddling on the couch, naked, watching television, while I kneel on the floor and suck Amir's cock, with tears running down my cheeks. Every so often, when I'm not putting in enough effort, he pulls my off of his cock by my hair and slaps me across the face as hard as he can, before pushing me back down, and ramming his dick down my throat. If only his cock wasn't so much bigger than mine, and he wasn't so much stronger and more manly than me, maybe I could've kept my beautiful wife. Maybe she'd at least still respect me, instead of giggling, "Yeah, choke on that dick, loser. Suck that superior Indian cock, like the pathetic little white boi you are, you useless little faggot." If only I was a real man, like Amir..."