Watching Her Dance: A Cuckold’s Hotel Encounter

The sound of his fingers tracing the curve of my breast, the soft fabric of my dress barely containing my excitement. I can feel his breath on my neck, his hands exploring, claiming. It’s a thrill, a dance of power and desire. The hotel room is dark, the city lights flickering through the curtains, casting shadows that play across our bodies. I’m the hotwife, the one who invites the bull, who watches as he takes what’s offered, who revels in the power of sharing.

The Thrill of Sharing

And there’s a moment, a pause, where I can feel his hesitation, his question. Do I want this? Do I want him to continue, to take more? The answer is in my body, in the way I arch into his touch, in the way I guide his hand to where I want it. I’m the one in control, the one who decides. The bull is just a tool, a means to an end, a way to explore the depths of my own desires. But it’s not just about the physical. It’s about the power, the thrill of watching someone else want what’s mine. Of knowing that I can give it, or take it away. It’s a game, a dance, and I’m the one leading. The bull is just following, caught in the web of my desires. And I love it, every second of it. So, when he asks, when he hesitates, I know what I want. I want him to continue, to take more, to give me everything. And I know he will, because I’m the hotwife, and this is my game. I’m the one who decides, who controls, who shares. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.