Desire and Deception: A Cuckold’s Night of Uncertainty

I saw the anklet first, a black band around her ankle, a symbol of her submission. It was a gift from me, a token of her willingness to be used, to be taken by any man who saw it. She was tipsy, horny, and ready for anything. The stranger, a man I didn’t know, spotted it and saw his chance. He bought her drinks, whispered in her ear, and led her to the restroom. I watched from a distance, my heart pounding, a mix of humiliation and arousal coursing through me.

Her Skirt Hiked Up, Ready for His Cock

I imagined the scene: her skirt hiked up, her panties pushed aside, her pussy wet and ready. The stranger, a faceless man, would fuck her hard, using her for his pleasure. She would moan, beg for more, and take every inch of him. The thought of it made me hard, but it also twisted my gut. She was mine, but in that moment, she was his whore, his slut to use and discard.The image of them, her in her black high-heeled sandals, him pounding into her, is seared into my mind. Her legs wrapped around him, her heels digging into his ass, urging him deeper. The stranger’s hands gripping her thighs, his cock sliding in and out of her married pussy. She would come, screaming his name, her body shaking with pleasure. And I would be left with the memory, the humiliation, and the knowledge that she was mine to share, mine to watch as she took another man’s cum.I wonder if she thinks of me when she’s with them, when she’s being fucked by strangers. Does she remember the anklet, the promise it represents? Does she care? Or is she lost in the moment, a slut in heat, taking whatever cock she can get? I don’t know, and that uncertainty, that lack of control, is both my torment and my thrill.