The dimly lit room casts a warm glow over the scene, highlighting the curve of her exposed torso. Her head is tilted back, lost in the moment, as he grinds into her from above. The couch beneath them creaks with each thrust, a rhythm that echoes the raw intensity of their encounter. Her words, ‘It was so strange to feel another man’s cock inside me…’, hang in the air, a confession that cuts deep. I can almost hear her whisper, ‘I hope you enjoyed watching him fuck me baby…’, knowing that every word is a dagger to my pride.
Her Moans Echo in My Mind
The image is a snapshot of a reality I both crave and dread. Her body, partially obscured by shadows, is a canvas of desire and submission. The way he moves, confident and dominant, is a stark contrast to my own hesitant touch. I can almost feel the weight of his body on hers, the heat of their skin, the wetness of their sweat. It’s a scene that plays out in my mind, a loop of pleasure and pain, where I am both the voyeur and the victim. Her moans, real or imagined, are a symphony of betrayal and ecstasy, a sound that will haunt me long after the image fades.
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It Was So Strange to Feel Another Man’s Cock Inside Me…
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Hot Wife in Lace Lingerie on the Couch
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