Did she really fuck him while I was in the next room?

Memory floods back, the taste of another man’s cum still lingering on my tongue. I can almost feel his hands on my hips, his cock thrusting deep inside me, claiming what’s mine. The thought of my husband waiting at home, eager to clean me up, sends a shiver down my spine. He knows his place, doesn’t he? A good little cuck, ready to lick and suck until I’m spotless. I wonder if he’s thinking about me right now, imagining the filth I’ve been in. Maybe he’s got his dick out, stroking it, dreaming of the day he can watch me get fucked by a real man. But for now, he’ll just have to settle for the leftovers, won’t he? The taste of another man’s seed, the scent of another’s sweat. It’s a dirty job, but someone’s gotta do it. And he’s just the cuck for the task.