Friday Night: Watching Her Get Pounded by the Bully

I’m here, watching her get fucked by another man, and it’s like a knife twisting in my gut. The mirror reflects her face, flushed and desperate, as he slams into her from behind. Her moans fill the room, each one a reminder of how much she craves this—how much she needs it. I can see the satisfaction in her eyes, the way her body responds to his every thrust. It’s a brutal dance, one I’m forced to witness, and it’s tearing me apart. But there’s something else too, a dark thrill that comes from seeing her like this, so wild and uninhibited.

The Agony of Her Pleasure

I want to look away, but I can’t. Her pleasure is a drug, and I’m addicted. Each time he hits that spot, her body convulses, and I feel it too, like an echo of her ecstasy. She’s a slut for this, for him, and I’m her cuckold, the pathetic husband who watches and waits. The naughtier she is, the more I want her, even as it kills me. It’s a sick cycle, one I can’t break free from. I’m trapped in this mirror, watching her get fucked, watching her come undone, and there’s nothing I can do but endure the agony of her pleasure.