I can’t stop thinking about it. The way his huge cock stretches me, fills me completely. It’s a primal need, a hunger that consumes me. I’m sitting here, on the staircase, the cool wood against my bare skin, and I’m aching for it. The lace of my bra and shorts barely contain my desire. I’m a slut for it, a whore for the pleasure. And I know he’s watching, waiting, ready to fuck me into oblivion. The thought of his thick cock pounding into me, making me scream, is all I can focus on. I’m dripping wet, my body begging for release. The windows are open, the blinds casting shadows that dance across my skin. I’m exposed, vulnerable, and I fucking love it.
Staircase of Desire: The Husband’s Fantasy
But it’s not just about the cock. It’s about the power, the control. He knows I’m his, his hotwife, his slut. And he knows I crave the humiliation, the degradation. I want to be used, to be fucked like a whore. The thought of him watching, knowing that another man is about to ravage me, sends shivers down my spine. I’m his property, his plaything, and I’m going to be fucked to orgasm by a huge cock. I can almost feel it, the stretch, the burn, the pleasure. I’m so close, so fucking close to coming undone. And he knows it. He knows I’m his, and he’s going to make me beg for it. I’m not just thinking about it; I’m living it. The fantasy, the reality, they blur together. I’m his slut, his whore, and I’m going to be fucked like one. The staircase, the windows, the shadows—they’re all part of the scene. I’m the star, the center of his attention, and I’m going to give him a show he’ll never forget. I’m going to fuck myself silly, and he’s going to watch every second. It’s a confession, a revelation, a truth that sets me free. I’m his hotwife, and I’m going to be fucked to orgasm by a huge cock. And I’m going to love every fucking second of it.

