Hotwife Orders Pervert to Wank and Eat His Load

The sound of my voice echoes in the dimly lit bathroom, commanding and unyielding. ‘Du darfst für mich wichsen, du Perverser. Ich gebe dir zehn Sekunden, um zu kommen. Iss deinen Schleim danach auf.’ I stand with my back to the camera, my bare upper body exposed, wearing nothing but white short pants. The light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow on my skin. I’m relaxed, confident in my power over the pervert watching me. And there’s a yellow box on the shelf, a mundane detail in this intense moment. The camera captures the upper portion of my body, the lower part blurred, focusing on the command I’ve just given. Ten seconds. That’s all he gets. I can almost hear his ragged breathing, his desperate strokes. The anticipation is thrilling, knowing he’s at my mercy, his pleasure entirely in my hands.

Hotwife’s Command: Ten Seconds to Cum

The power in this moment is intoxicating. I’m the one in control, the one dictating his pleasure. I can almost feel his urgency, his need to obey. The countdown starts in my head, each second a delicious torment for him. Nine, eight, seven… I imagine his hand moving faster, his breath coming in short gasps. Six, five, four… The tension builds, a palpable energy in the room. Three, two, one. Done. I can picture his release, the mess he’s made, and the knowledge that he must clean it up, eat his slime as ordered. It’s a perverse pleasure, this control, this degradation. But it’s not just about the act. It’s about the psychological game, the power play. I’m the hotwife, the one who decides, who commands. And he’s the pervert, the one who obeys, who serves. It’s a dynamic that excites me, that makes me feel alive. The bathroom, the yellow box, the dim light—it’s all part of the scene, the setting for my command. And as I turn away, I know he’s still there, still watching, still waiting for my next order. It’s a game we play, a dance of power and submission, and I’m the one leading.