I’m in the bread aisle, my nipples hard under this tight shirt, and I know he’s watching. I can feel his eyes on my ass, my hips, my cleavage. I’m his hotwife, always on display, always on the prowl. I bend down to grab a loaf, my skirt riding up, and I hear his sharp intake of breath. I smirk, knowing I’ve got him hooked. I’m in control, and I love every second of it. I’m his fantasy, his obsession, and I’m going to make him wait. I’m going to make him beg. I’m going to make him mine.