So… Now that I have had sex with another man, did you enjoy it as much as I did? And could you handle it all the time? That’s the question that keeps echoing in my mind. The memory of his cock inside me, the way he used my body, and your eyes watching every filthy moment. It’s a fucking rush, isn’t it? Knowing that you’re there, seeing me get fucked by someone else, knowing that you can’t do anything about it. It’s a power trip, a fucking high that I can’t get enough of. And you, my dear, you’re the perfect spectator, aren’t you? Watching me get used, watching me get fucked, and knowing that you can’t do a damn thing about it. It’s a fucking thrill, and I want more. I need more. Can you handle it? Can you handle watching me become the slut I was always meant to be?
The Thrill of Being Watched: A Cuckold’s Delight
The thought of you watching, of you seeing me get fucked by another man, it’s a fucking turn-on. It’s like you’re there, but you’re not. You’re a ghost, a shadow, watching me get used, watching me get fucked. And I love it. I love knowing that you’re there, that you’re watching, that you can’t do a damn thing about it. It’s a fucking power trip, and I’m riding it hard. Can you handle it? Can you handle watching me become the slut I was always meant to be? Can you handle watching me get fucked by another man, over and over again? It’s a fucking thrill, and I want more. I need more. Can you handle it?



