The lace on her nightgown catches the light, a cruel reminder of what I’m missing. I’m trapped, listening to every moan, every whisper. She knows I’m here, knows I’m hard, knows I’m desperate. The thought of her, wet and wanting, while I’m stuck in this closet, is almost too much. But she’s clear: touch yourself, but don’t you dare cum. It’s a command, a taunt, a promise of what I can’t have. And I obey, because that’s what I am. Her cuck, her toy, her little secret.
Her Wet Whispers, My Silent Suffering
Her voice is a siren’s call, drawing me in, teasing me with what I can’t have. I can almost feel her, almost taste her, but I’m locked away, a prisoner to her pleasure. The sound of his grunts, her moans, it’s a symphony of torture. I’m so hard it hurts, but I can’t touch, can’t release. It’s her game, her rules, her command. And I’m just the cuck, the one who listens, who waits, who suffers. It’s a cruel, beautiful dance, and I’m just a pawn in her erotic chess match.
Pregnant cuckold tumbler
Hotwife Marks and Locks Cuck
I Love Teasing You Before He Gets Here
I Love Teasing You Before He Gets Here
Change Poses – Give Her More Pleasure
I Know You Are Scared of My Big Hard Cock, Subby
I Fucked Your Wife So Hard Last Night, She Couldn’t Walk Straight
Living Room Submission: Cuckold’s Command
