I can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and jealousy as I watch her, my wife, standing there in that light pink sweater, her top pulled down just enough to tease me with a glimpse of her cleavage. She knows I’m watching, knows I’m imagining what’s underneath, and that’s the thrill of it all. The way she looks at me, that playful smirk, it’s like she’s daring me to say something, to acknowledge the game we’re playing. And I do, because I can’t help myself. ‘You’re not wearing anything under there, are you?’ I ask, my voice rough with desire. She just smiles wider, and I know I’m in for a night of pure, unadulterated pleasure and pain. The kind that only a hotwife can deliver to her cuckold husband.