I stand here, watching her slip into that black mesh lingerie, the fabric clinging to her curves like a second skin. Her tits spill out just enough, nipples hard and visible through the thin material. I can’t help but stare at her ass, one cheek peeking out from under the thong, a tease that makes my cock ache. She knows I’m watching, knows I’m her cuck, the one who gets off on dressing her up for another man. It’s a fucked-up game, but it’s ours. I’m the one who helps her into those thigh-highs, the garter straps snapping into place with a sound that echoes in the bedroom. Her long, dark hair cascades down her back, a waterfall of lust. She turns to me, lips slightly parted, a subtle smirk playing on her face. ‘How do I look?’ she asks, and I know she’s not asking for my approval, but for my submission. I’m her cuck, her willing participant, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The blinds are drawn, the world outside forgotten. It’s just us, and the promise of what’s to come. I’m her cuck, and I’m fucking proud of it.