I sit here, my heart pounding, as I watch her lean against him. The tension in the room is thick, almost suffocating. She’s supposed to just jerk him off, but I know her. I know that look in her eyes, even if I can’t see it clearly. It’s the look of a woman who can’t resist the allure of a big cock. I can feel the jealousy and humiliation rising in my throat, choking me. She’s my wife, but in this moment, she’s his whore. **Her Desire: A Cuckold’s Worst Fear** The room is dimly lit, the shadows dancing across the walls as she moves. I can see the outline of her body, the curve of her hips, the way her top clings to her skin. She’s partially clothed, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. I watch as she leans in, her hand moving with practiced ease. He’s hard, his cock thick and ready. I can almost feel the weight of it in my own hand, the way it would pulse with need. But it’s not my hand on him. It’s hers. And she’s not stopping at a handjob. The sound of her swallowing fills the room, a wet, obscene noise that echoes in my ears. I can see the way her throat moves, the way her eyes close in pleasure. She’s tasting him, savoring him. And I’m left here, a cuckold, watching my wife swallow another man’s load. The humiliation is a physical pain, a knife twisting in my gut. I want to scream, to rage, but I can’t. I’m frozen, trapped in this moment of sheer degradation. As she pulls away, her lips glistening, I can see the satisfaction in her eyes. She’s done what she wanted, what she needed. And I’m left with the bitter taste of humiliation. I know I should be angry, but there’s a part of me that’s turned on by this. The part of me that loves to be used, to be humiliated. The part of me that is, and always will be, a cuckold.







It's ok…. it's only a blowing …..